Walking in the streets of Bhaktapur, I heard the sound of people singing in chorus and paused to spot the source.
It’s was old door with intricate wooden work, wide open. I looked inside and saw a group of women in bright red saris standing in the courtyard and singing, one or two of them playing a dholki. Why are these people so happy? Is this a wedding? Should I go in?
While I stood there perplexed wondering if I should go inside, I saw a young woman coming my way. She’s also going to join others inside.
“Excuse me, is there a wedding happening inside?” I asked her, pointing towards the people singing.
“No, it’s our temple,” she said with an expression that can only be characterised as duh, “this is how we worship.”