San's Memoirs - From India to Chicago

Transition



"Hey look! It's so beautiful! They look like soft cotton balls", I exclaimed as I watched fascinated at the snowfall outside the window of my seat while our plane prepared for the final landing over Chicago O'Hare airport. Within half-an-hour Roshan and I were out in the baggage claim and I struggled to hold onto every moment that was passing by at a racy pace since the past few weeks. I was married for only two weeks. It was a traditional Bengali wedding. I met Roshan on the Internet seven months back, which led to where I was right now. For the first time in my life I was far away from my home and family, and I felt strange walking beside this man who was my only acquaintance-friend-relative, all rolled in one, in this strange land, and he was also my partner for life. As we stepped out of the baggage claim, I felt a sudden chill of horror of what might be. I remembered reading horrible stories about new brides leading a miserable lonely existence in this country. My mind went back to my life that was. What was I thinking? Why did I leave my parents, my friends, my job, and my cozy, secured life and come away to a faraway land with someone who I knew but only a few days? Roshan chattered away happily, assuring me how wonderful our life would be together. I didn't want him to know that he had a weakling for a wife, so I smiled bravely and sulked inwardly thinking how lonely the two of us would be. Just then, Roshan waved at a smiling group of people whose features seemed very familiar to the clan I had left behind in my homeland, India. Then there were series of introductions, hugs and handshakes. All my fears suddenly melted away and I smiled, laughed, hugged, shook hands and almost cried with relief to know a few more names other than Roshan's.



Growing up in Mumbai, I had always experienced a winter that had nothing to do with cold. Hence the necessary Chicago clothing, the coats, earmuffs, gloves, boots, everything added to an exciting experience for me. The term "layers" found a new meaning in my vocabulary. As Roshan drove to our apartment, my eyes feasted on the blanket of snow on the trees and rooftops, the street lights, the malls, McDonalds and Pizza Hut. Reaching the apartment, Roshan opened the back door that led to the kitchen and said to me – this is your home and kitchen, build it up the way you always wanted to. It was an incomprehensible emotional moment of apprehension, sadness and joy all at once.



My earlier anxiety of being an alien in a strange place now seemed so juvenile as our phone kept ringing from the moment we stepped home. A plethora of wishes, invitations, and concerns started pouring in from people I knew nothing about. Roshan quickly briefed me about each of them as the calls came in. He started jotting down dates in a calendar for parties, gatherings, events, etc. My head started reeling, I didn't know whether it was out of jet lag or it was due to the struggle to keep up with what was going on. Roshan looked at me, smiled and said – don't worry, you will get used to it. I soon learnt about a huge culturally thriving community in Chicago of which Roshan was an active member. I met and got to know his friends and acquaintances from this community. Initially, it was overwhelming for me to have so many strangers chitchat so warmly and casually as if they have known me all my life. But, it was a pleasant art of communication, which I later started enjoying. Simultaneously, I was also trying to adjust to my new life, playing the role of a wife, trying to understand a 'husband', and experiencing the hiccups of a new relationship. I realized over time that I had watched too many Hindi movies back home that had formed the basis of my theories of a married life. I slowly learnt that Roshan and I could be great friends sharing a life together and still keep the title of being a husband and a wife.



I was learning a whole new way of living and surviving. At first, there was a lot of resistance from my own immature and typical mind-set in which I grew up. Before I knew it I got embroiled in my own life, with my husband,my home and my own activities of entertaining and getting entertained, gatherings,Chicago's cultural organization, parties, picnics, etc. Soon after, my wish to get a taste of the world outside the community landed me a job at a retail store. I thought it was the best platform to meet people from different cultures. I soon picked up the common lingo and knew that the weather and the weekend were the safest topics to harp on when talking to strangers. Although initially, it was difficult for me to understand why people would look at me as though I have lost it when I told them that I wished it snowed more often!



A whole year had passed; it was the same day of the year as last year. We decided to celebrate in a new Japanese restaurant that had opened nearby. We both loved sushi with wasabi. As we drove up the ramp to the highway Roshan put on the new A.R. Rehman CD that he gave me as an anniversary gift. My mind trailed off to the one year that had gone by. I had seen enough in this past year – the excitement and struggles of getting into a new life, the complexity of society without the parental umbrella, the joys of independence and the helplessness of isolation. I missed the ramblings of my friends in Hindi and Marathi, now replaced by mainly Bengali and English, missed the land of Tagore, but, I thought of all the experiences I had gathered in the past one year, and I could see this naïve, apprehensive girl change into a woman of the world, if I can say that! My parents would be so proud of me. I smiled, leaned back on the seat, and relaxed with a feeling of completeness. I started planning some new goals to reach – a career and a profession. It would be a whole new world of explorations and opportunities. As we walked into the restaurant I thought - Wow! Marriage does change life forever!