I arrived at my new home after marriage, where the parents and other family members were ready to welcome me in for the next ceremonies. A vessel full of rice was placed at the main door, which I had to kick to enter the house, denoting that now my food is in the new home and that my entry brings prosperity and abundance. I put my feet in the vermilion powder mixed with water, representing the arrival of good fortune and purity. I was feeling uncomfortable, as any new bride would do, on the very first day after my wedding in my husband's home. With all the relatives around, and various games to play with my husband and in-laws, I was sooner feeling better and relaxed.
I played Ring finding game with Rohin in which, ring is left in mixture of milk and roses petals, and we were allowed to put only one hand in the mixture to find the ring. It is done five times and traditionally it is said whomsoever found the ring most times will be leading her spouse the entire life. So, naturally, I was the one to find the ring three times. I exchanged handful of black seasme seeds with all members of my immediate in-law family, a ritual to symbolize give and take. I started enjoying every moment. Getting to know your people while having fun is an amazing activity.
It was not even a week into marriage, the time of "judai" (separation) came. Rohin's leaves weren't approved, and he had to leave for US alone, as my Visa was also not ready. After a week of Rohin's departure, I went to the Visa office, and saw a variety of people here and there. When my turn came, a lady dressed in a decent white and black official attire asked me to show her my marriage certificate and photographs. She asked me a few personal questions and congratulated me on my Visa Approval. Finally, the days of judai were over.
My journey was 27 hours, 9 hours flight from Delhi to Amsterdam Schiphol Airport, a halt of 9 hours, then again a 9 hours flight from Amsterdam to Minneapolis. I got the window seat in the airplane, waiting to meet my husband soon. I spent 18 hours in the flight watching clouds outside, sleeping and watching movies.
So, getting off the plane a month and four days ago at the Minneapolis - St. Paul International Airport was a different experience altogether. I was astonished by not just the huge number of people, but their different types. Television in India hadn't shown me the variety of humanity, their complexions and clothes, and cultures so distinguished from my own. It took me more than an hour in the line to reach the custom's window.
The black woman with her tight trousers and an inch-long purple-pink nails with nail-art on checked my immigration papers and demanded a copy of my husband's I-94 (a document which is given to you when you enter US and taken back from you when you leave US). As I was unable to provide that copy, I was taken into a big hall with 3 officers behind the desk and various passengers waiting for their turn to come. My heart was pumping much faster and all my jet-lag was all gone due to fear of unknown. I was handed a yellow slip with a number imprinted on it. I was called after a large turbaned Sikh with small, serious spectacles. They wanted to know when my husband last entered US and hence asked me to present a copy of his passport, which was thankfully available with me.
When I came out after clearing the custom's process, the airport, which was a microcosm of a universe half an hour ago was now quiet with only a few people scattered here and there. When I was offloading my luggage from the conveyor belt, I was told by a short, fat man of about late forties that my husband was waiting for me outside the airport and is tensed. Oops!! It was already 2 hours when my flight landed. The customs process had taken me so long. Leaving apart all my tiredness, I went out with all the blushing and naive enthusiasm of a new bride.
"Welcome", the first words that Rohin uttered after meeting me. We stayed at Rohin's mamaji's house for around a month and then shifted to our own apartment six days ago. Until the start of my new life in America, I had never experienced jet lag. It was, to me, a concept as foreign as sea-sickness, which only sophisticated people ever talked about. I went out with Rohin almost every second day to see places around. "Mall of America", the biggest mall in the city, was as big as Kolkata (the largest city in India by Area). With all Christmas decorations, the Mapplewood mall, the Rosedale center, the Downtown, everything looked stunning. American supermarkets are the stuff of legend in India, sight-seeing venues unto themselves. To me, it was like wandering through a giant lit-up refrigerator. Apple ciders, which don't even exist in Delhi took up an entire lane here. The city looked like a dream city covered with fresh white snow all over.
When in my appartment, I was demonstrated the function of garbage disposal system by Rohin. Though we also have garbage disposal systems in India, very different from these ones and they are called the "Streets". I was warned by my husband not to put my hand inside the sink even when the garbage disposal is off. Initially, I was perplexed for a few days, scared to touch anything for fear it might cause the house to collapse or the kitchen to explode.
