Standing in the desert is like standing in an ash-tray. In the bright sun, the landscape is always like an over-exposed photograph. If the people were fair, they would be ghosts. The camels leave you sore as you have no option but to hump when you sit on them. And they take you over the desert waves, full of slippery sand that responds to the warmth-bringing sunrise or cooling sunset instantly.

The camel riders. Their long kurtas and lungis and draped shawls flutter in the wind. Their loongas (ear-studs) glint and they smoke bidis with squinting eyes. A local, 7 year old kid races past bouncing away on an irritable camel. He is all colours and movement and panache.

Ajay, the shopkeeper in Jaisalmer was the second wise-man I met after Toronto’s Jamaican cab-driver. When we went to his shop, we realised that earlier shopkeepers had fleeced us. Ajay said “Never mind. You paid a little more. What is done is done. Don’t worry… Just imagine you missed beer or a lunch at some restaurant.”

He continued “Did you go to the desert? In the sand..?

With friends or boyfriend?”

I answered friends.

“Oh.. you must return with your boyfriend next time.”

His eyes narrowed and he leant forwards savouring each word…

“It will drive you crrr—aa—zzz—yyy.

They say that couples who are about to divorce come to the desert to spend their last few days together. On leaving, they are unable to get a divorce.

I think there is something in the sand.. scientifically.. that has this effect on the mind….

The foreign-girls who come here fall in love with the camel-riders. It’s no big deal for the riders. Girls come and go. It’s casual flirting. But the girls lose it.. they go mad!”

At night, all strangers were friends and music was a-thumping in the heart. Ramesh and Kamlesh – two performers in drag did the Rajasthani dances, swirling, bending touching their chins to the ground while raising one eyebrow after another. We followed their steps with intense eye-contact and before I knew it we were all dancing together around the bonfire.