When being lost in translation did me good
They say marriages are made in heaven. I never believed in this age-old adage. In fact I dreaded the word. But when you are 25 and on the verge of completing your professional degree, it’s all your parents, relatives and well-wishers can think about.
Most of the time, the queries and conversations revolve around nuptial alliances and prospective bridegrooms. Everyone is hopeful the alliance will turn into reality.
I kept dilly-dallying the whole affair till as long as I could. I had other plans. I wanted to pursue higher studies abroad. Most of my peers were also taking the GRE and TOEFL tests to secure admission in foreign universities. I followed suit believing life was everywhere and anywhere but not here.
A few months of coaching and I was ready to take the plunge. The tests went well and I got admission in a little known suburb of Fargo. Later, when I checked online, I found the temperature there could dip to as low as minus 40 degrees Celsius. It really bothered me but neverthelessIhadmadeupmymindto convince my parents to give me a chance.
Meanwhile, my parents pleaded with me to meet a prospective bridegroom who had comeallthewayfromCanadato find a bride. After a lot of deliberations and calls made to and fro, I agreed. The boy would come to the university along with his family and whisk me away to a coffee joint where we would be given some space to get to know each other better.
I wore my best jeans and a cropped top. I used to keep my hair really short those days and I was teased by my peers for being a tom boy. The moment I reached the gate of the university, I saw a mammoth group of 15 people sizing me up from head to toe. While everyone was observing me, suddenly someone in the group said,
(The girl already looks an American).”An uproar of laughter followed.
I could barely breathe and quickly ushered myself into the car. The motorcade followed us and we reached an upscale restaurant of Ludhiana. We were finally left alone and the gaggle of his relatives and close ones assembled outside chatting in gregariously.
I let the guy know that I had secured admission in a US university and would be travelling soon. To which he replied to my horror,
(Then that can lead to trouble).” I chose to show off my vocabulary and he spoke in pure Punjabi dialect, using some archaic words that I could not comprehend.
We definitely needed a translator. In that half an hour, we could not fathom the implicit connotationsofmarriage,which eventually didn’t happen anyway. That day I realised that being lost in translation actually did me good.
Over time, I found my mojo here in my motherland and decided to settle here and nowhere else.
MY PARENTS PLEADED WITH ME TO MEET A PROSPECTIVE GROOM WHO HAD COME FROM CANADA TO FIND A BRIDE. AFTER A LOT OF PERSUASION AND CALLS, I AGREED