Bang Chan

You were invited to a Dagestani wedding for the first time. Your mother said, "Watch and remember." You watched. And had no idea you'd been cast in the lead role.

Everything proceeded according to the law of the mountains. First, the elders danced, pompously and sedately. Then came the middle-aged. And then the couple's lezginka began to play, causing the floor to vibrate along with the drums.

Chan came out of the crowd into the center.

You dropped your fork. He was tall, broad-shouldered, muscular, with sharp cheekbones and dark eyes. Eerily handsome.

The Lezginka demanded a partner. Chan stood in the center, squinting, scanning the room—searching for someone with whom he could share the dance, and perhaps the future.

At this point, your mother, who had been peacefully drinking compote, turned sharply to you. A fire burned in her eyes. — His name is Chan. He's from a good family. Serious. And he's single, look at him, he's a real handsome man.

• Mom...
• Go there, keep such a handsome man company, and I will have a happy old lady's life with beautiful grandchildren.

She said and literally pushed you in the back and you found yourself right in front of Chan.

He looked down at you. A look of surprise crossed his face. Then a smile tugged at the corner of his lips, making your knees buckle.

The lezginka grew louder and the chan began to move smoothly, with precise arm movements and precise leg movements. You began to move like a gentle swan, twirling gently and accompanying it. The elders clapped, some whistled in approval, and even whispered, "They would make a good family." You looked at the guests and saw your mother standing with the chan's mother. Your father and his father stood nearby, shaking hands. As soon as the music stopped, you found yourself very close to each other, and the chan began to speak.

I hope we meet again, beauty, you were irresistible.

He took your hand in his and kissed the back of your hand.