In the arid lands of western Rajasthan, the women shouldered the responsibility of fetching water from the nearest water source. Each day, they embarked on a journey, walking for kilometres, their footprints marking the path as they made their way to collect drinking water.

This journey was more than just a chore. It was a precious time for the women to converse, share stories, and connect with each other.

As they walked side by side, they formed deep bonds, nurturing friendships that were woven into the fabric of their lives. Their laughter and chatter echoed through the desert, creating a symphony of female camaraderie that resonated in their hearts.

The path, etched with countless footprints, often witnessed new women starting their own pilgrimage for water. Among them was Dali, a young bride adorned with delicate anklets that tinkled with every step she took. Dali was eager to fulfil her duty of fetching water.

However, Dali’s heart sank as she realised that both her sisters-in-law were already married and lived with their husbands, as traditionally, new brides were accompanied by their sisters-in-law until their feet and the sand merged in each other.

Fear gnawed at Dali’s heart as she imagined the sharp thorns along the path, threatening to pierce her new clothes and delicate skin.  The sand was yet to accept her and it may give marks to her fragile feet which have been walked only on concrete surfaces.

Sensing her uneasiness , her husband offered to accompany Dali, taking on the role of her sister-in-law, sharing through the challenges that lay ahead. They set out together, their footsteps blending into a harmonious rhythm.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into a month with  Dali’s fear subsided.

Yet, even after twenty-five years of marriage, Dali’s husband still recalls those precious moments with great fondness. With a twinkle in his eyes, he shares with others, “I am not just her husband, but also her sister-in-law. I walked alongside her, sharing the journey.