Stifling heat and a very loud Kalbeliya performance greeted them at the Jaipur airport. 

Siddharth stared at the spectacle with a mixture of amusement and shock. Talk about grandeur. A man and a woman stood next to the Kalbeliya performers with a huge banner with ornate calligraphy that read:

Veer weds Chaarvi 

The Haldars welcome you to the auspicious occasion. 

"Wow," he whispered. 

"Now," chastised his mother, "Be on your nicest behaviour."

They approached the couple and let them know they were guests of the Rajput family. The man cross-checked their names in his list and the woman got the garlands and put them around both their necks. 

"Welcome to Jaipur Mrs Rajput, Mr Rajput," she said with a mechanical smile. 

"It's actually Ms Kashyap and Mr Kashyap--", he started to correct but his mother cut him off.

"Yes, thank you so much," she said with a gracious smile accepting the garlands. 

"So, how many people have arrived?" Siddharth asked the woman.

"A few. You are one of the first ones," she answered. 

"So you are all going to stand here till they all come in?" he asked incredulously. 

"Yes, Mr Rajput," she replied with the same mechanical smile. 

He just shook his head. If this welcome was any indication of what the wedding was going to be like then they were in for a ride. 

He got his phone out and snapped a quick picture and sent it to his friends. 

Everybody was back in Delhi by now and were disappointed when they learnt Siddharth would be in Jaipur till it was time to resume their tour. It meant they couldn't go for a vacation this year. 

It was a kind of an annual ritual of theirs to go to Goa. The last one had been cut short because they had to prep for the Battle of the Bands and the one before that had gone sort of awry for a bunch of reasons. Angad especially hated being teased about that trip. 

Siddharth was lurched out of his thoughts when the Kalbeliya performers suddenly started their music. He stared at them go through the same routine for a new set of guests that had just come out of the baggage claim.  

He just gave his mother an amused look as they were led to a row of cars and seated in one.  

The drive itself wasn't as eventful but their destination loomed in the distance because it was an actual palace. Yes, a palace that now functioned as a heritage hotel. 

"Shouldn't expect any less from the Rajputs," thought Siddharth to himself. 

But even he had to admit that it was absolutely beautiful. Even from a distance the architecture, the lawns, the decoration, everything was simply breathtaking. 

They got out of the car and immediately the hotel staff got out and handled their luggage. They were ushered into the hotel lobby along with a few other guests that had just arrived. Thankfully they hadn't run into any of their immediate family yet. It was too early in the morning for that. 

The lobby had yet another couple of staff members decked in a traditional outfit with plates full of diyas, kumkum and other auspicious paraphernalia that usually comes with it. They came forward with similar smiles on their faces and applied tika on their foreheads that Siddharth immediately rubbed off. 

Siddharth checked in and they were guided to where they would be staying for the next week and a half.

It was a well-furnished room with twin beds fitted with luxurious sheets. Two plush armchairs sat in a corner and side tables that had elaborate artistic lamps. The walls were a tasteful cream shade and golden embossing. The balcony gave them a view of the front courtyard and the windows allowed for a comfortable breeze to pass through. All in all, it was one of the most lavish places he had seen. 

His mother was tired from the journey so he ordered her some tea and waited for the room service. 

"I have let your Taiji know we have arrived," said his mother as he emerged out of the bathroom. 

His aunt was the only one who remained in touch with his mother from his father's side. She wasn't particularly malicious but she wasn't an angel either. 

"Okay," was all he said. 

He then made sure his mother was comfortable and walked out of the room in search of a place he could smoke. The nicotine cravings were kicking in and he looked for a balcony or patio or something. 

That was when he heard the chatter around the corner. A bunch of people seemed to be engaged in a friendly argument. He turned on his heel and started walking in the other direction to avoid bumping into anybody he had to interact with. 

"Hey, excuse me," a clear, feminine voice called out. 

Siddharth turned around and found a rather pretty girl in a pink kurta. He gestured to himself as if to ask "Me?"

"Yes, you. Get the luggage, please," she said authoritatively, turning towards a family walking slowly behind. 

"Arey, Bhatt uncle. Please, let the hotel staff help you," she said and looked at Siddharth expectantly. 

Clearly, the girl thought Siddharth was part of the hotel staff. He looked down at his outfit that consisted of a neat black button-down and a pair of black linen trousers. He recalled vaguely that the hotel staff's uniform was pretty close to what he was wearing. 

He stared at them for a beat till the girl cleared her throat and raised an eyebrow pointedly. He bit his lip to conceal his smile and decided to play along. 

"Sorry ma'am," he mumbled and picked up the huge suitcase with ease. 

"Room 1204," she said and picked up one of the smaller handbags and started walking ahead. 

Siddharth followed her and they got into the lift. Once they got out she sped to a room nearby and opened it with a keycard. He placed the luggage at the designated corner.

The man in the family offered him a tip but he smiled and declined. The girl stared at him with what seemed like curiosity till she realized she had been caught staring. 

"Come along now. More people are waiting at the reception. We need to get them settled in as well." she said making her way towards the lifts again. 

They walked out of the lift and Siddharth noticed her looking at him from the corner of her eye again. 

"Grab those bags and put them in room..." she pointed to a pile of luggage and paused, "Wait. I will have to ask the room number."

She said and walked towards the reception. 

"Papa please give the man your bags and tell him our room number," she said to a middle-aged man wearing a traditional turban at the reception who was talking to a group of guests. 

Siddharth turned to them mutely and recoiled when he saw none other than his own uncle standing at the reception. He hadn't seen his father's brother in many, many years. It was a shock remembering how much he looked like his own father.

His mother had made sure to drill in what protocol she wanted him to follow. So when his uncle noticed his presence and called out his name he obediently, yet insincerely, went up to him and touched his feet.

"Namastey Tauji," he said reluctantly. 

He gave him a wide smile and blessed him. 

"Siddharth Beta!" he cried, "You are here? You didn't even come and meet us."

His aunt heard her husband and turned to Siddharth as well. He touched her feet too and she introduced him to the couple who he learned were the bride's parents. 

"This is our Siddharth. Prithvi Bhaiya's son. He is the one we were telling you about? The singer."

The girl in the meantime had turned white as a sheet. The man in the turban glared at her but straightened his expression and turned to him with an apologetic look. It was clear they had figured that she had mistaken him as a member of the hotel staff. 

"Beta, please forgive our foolish daughter. She doesn't know any better," he said in a voice full of anguish.

He then turned to his uncle and folded his hands, 

"Sooraj Ji please don't think this is how we treat our guests. Chetna, our daughter, has studied too much and all that has gone to her head. She has forgotten all limits, etiquette and respect. She has forgotten how you treat the groom's side and she is hell-bent on ruining her sister's wedding."

Siddharth looked at the scene unfold with horror. He was just amusing himself because he was bored. He didn't think it would lead to this kind of dramatic climax. 

"Mr Haldar please, I was just helping Chetna," he intervened quickly, "Tauji, really it is okay! She couldn't carry the bags alone so I offered to help. Chivalry isn't dead after all."

He laughed awkwardly hoping some of the tension would dissipate. 

Chetna still stood motionless and horror-struck. Her father seemed a little relieved and his uncle laughed along with him. 

"It is okay Indradev Ji, Siddharth can help us with the bags," he assured the frantic man.

"Yes, I can," Siddharth grabbed his uncle's bag hurriedly, "Room number?" 

But Mr Haldar snatched the bag from his grip and called for the hotel staff somewhat angrily. Two men came rushing in and grabbed the bags from him and carried them ahead. 

"Please Beta, you have done enough to help us; let Chetna do some work now. She will take care of you. Sooraj Ji, you come with us."

With that, he gave Chetna a pointed look and then left the lobby with his aunt and uncle. 

Chetna flinched slightly and then sighed. 

"I am sorry," she said softly. She didn't look at him. Her eyes were downcast and Siddharth felt the guilt churning within him. He gave her his kindest smile,

"Hey, it's okay. It's no big deal. Come on," he said. 

"It is a big deal," she said in a monotone, "You are our guests. I am supposed to be taking care of you."

"It was an honest mistake. It was honestly kind of funny. I am dressed exactly like the hotel staff. It's a perfect anecdote don't you think? Something we can laugh about later," he said, still mostly amused. 

"I don't think it is funny," she said, "Can I do something for you?" 

"Uh, you can point me to a spot where I can smoke in peace," Siddharth shrugged.

Chetna walked a few feet and opened a balcony door. 

"Here," she said, "This will work." 

With that, she turned around and left before Siddharth could thank her or say another word. 

He walked out onto the balcony trying to put that encounter behind him and lit a cigarette. The beautiful blue skies, the chirping birds and the manicured lawns provided enough aesthetic distraction. 

He gazed at the Pink City as his body welcomed the nicotine rush. 

Yet he couldn't stop thinking about Chetna. He had played along in jest but even unknowingly he had caused her problems. Maybe he should try to apologize again or try to smooth things out again.