Sambit had dragged him into Houston to Little Delhi to buy a new suit, and not just any suit, but a kurta pajama, an Indian suit with pants and an embroidered tunic. Part of Diwali, Sambit had explained, was wearing new clothes and cleaning your house and welcoming the goddess Lakshmi, who would bring wealth and goodness to her devotees. The goddess part was a bit too much for Derek, but he could get behind a clean house and an evening with friends and family, and if it meant he got to go with Sambit to the temple, he would even put on his kurta pajama and hope he didn’t look as uncomfortable as he felt. Sambit and the shopkeeper had brought out suits of every jeweled shade for his approval, but Derek wasn’t used to that much color and settled on a burnished gold tunic with simple maroon beading and embroidery accompanied by white pants. He still felt odd in the high collar with no tie or jacket, not that he really needed a coat in Houston at the end of October, but this was what Sambit insisted was traditional attire for this kind of event, and Derek was willing to do pretty much anything to make his lover happy.
