Our Bollywood Style love story

When you have been married for over 38 years like we have been, you don’t come alone. You are part of a package that is so intricately intertwined living, learning, growing and evolving together.

Our love story has always been at the centre of my being and my universe. It has been my compass guiding me back to a place of gratitude whenever life has thrown a curveball my way. So I humbly share with you openly and wholeheartedly our journey of love, commitment, perseverance and immense growth. (You may also enjoy some parts shared here).

Location and time: 40 years ago in India

The beautiful beginning..

Bollywood movies were a huge part of my growing up. Being a dreamer and a visualizer, I always dreamt of meeting my real life hero one day. ⁠
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My list was crystal clear: he would  be romantic, loving, kind, strong, confident, courageous, and good looking, just like a Bollywood hero.  Oh, and of course he would sing and dance! (For my friends who may not be familiar with Bollywood movies they are almost always full of songs and dances). ⁠
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As destiny would have it my family moved back to India after living in Canada for seven years (story for another day). One of the reasons was that I would pursue my post secondary education there while we also reunited with our extended family.
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While I was going through a big cultural shock and being very wary of strangers (a warning from all my well-wishers), my hero showed up at the most unexpected time.  It took me almost a year to recognize him.  How these events unfolded for us was nothing short of any Bollywood movie. ⁠

For him it was love at first sight. He saw me in the bazaar and knew he wanted to marry me. This is so him. Always knowing what he wants and giving it all that it takes to get it. He introduced himself to me while I was at a juice stand with 4-5 other friends. We all thought he was so well-mannered, respectful and handsome. This incident became the talk of our hostel (dorm) in my all girls college.

I was skeptical as I had never met anyone so confident. It seemed too good to be true and I was told to be careful. Meanwhile, all my friends totally connected with him and became his ambassadors.

He said that he understood my hesitation but that he was serious and wanted to marry me. I said he would have to speak to my father if he wanted to marry me. And he said, “when can I meet him?” Tables turned. I had to write to my father who was always very open and close to me.

The two of them met in my hostel. While my friends spied on them I nervously paced back and forth in my room, blown away by the courage and sincerity of this man.

After their meeting, my father told my mom he was so impressed and that he had never met anyone so confident, respectful, and well-spoken. My older brother, however, was not convinced as he wanted me to finish my studies. All this time had given me an opportunity to get to know him. By now, I knew this was the man of my dreams and insisted that I wanted to marry him.

He was a veterinarian by profession and serving in the Indian army as a Captain. During our 10 month engagement we wrote to each other every day, and my friends would steal my letters and tease me around our college grounds. It was truly a scene out of a Bollywood movie.

We got married on November 07. We had to sneak in our honeymoon as my in-laws were concerned about the unrest in Kashmir, which is where we wanted to go. Instead we snuck away on their scooter to Simla, 169 KM away, in the middle of November.

Halfway during the trip I had him stop and send a telegram to my in-laws so they wouldn’t worry about our well-being. This was the most daring thing I had ever done, and yes, he was amused.

We had to stay apart for 6 months so I could write my exams, but he fully utilized his vacation time and we got an opportunity to travel and see the Taj Mahal and Kashmir. Right after my exams I joined him in Assam for 6 months, experiencing the novelty of the Indian army life as a newly married couple.

We had such an amazing time the first year and half of our marriage traveling, being with our families, and enjoying the army life. While we were in Assam amongst the beautiful tea gardens, the army head office notified my hubby that being an army officer, he could not be married to a foreign national. That was the army rule.

Life had been a dream to this point and the reality had to kick in at some point, I suppose. We had a serious decision to make. Either he would leave the army or we would leave my Canadian citizenship. We mutually decided he would leave the army and we would move to Canada.

From my experience it was all fairly simple. We would go to the embassy and I would sponsor him. Once the application got processed we would get on a plane and start a new life. Pretty simple and exciting. So I thought.

The Lowest Point

On a fine summer day we travelled 6 hours on a bus to go to the Canadian embassy in New Delhi. As I said, my understanding was that we would go to the embassy and I would apply to sponsor him. It would take 3-4 months for his application to mature. That’s how it was many years before when my brother applied for his wife. Apparently not anymore!

It was all a big blur as the officer explained to us how the rules had changed and I would now have to go back to Canada, get a job and then apply for my husband.

This was the most unexpected outcome of our long trip to the capital. The twenty-two year old me argued with all my might. “How is that fair? I am a Canadian citizen. He is my husband and very capable of supporting himself. Why do I have to prove that I can support him?”

Nobody cared to answer my genuine questions. It was what it was. The lowest point in our lives. That’s what it was.

As we stood outside the embassy, in the scorching heat, amongst the tall concrete buildings, the world seemed so cold, unfair, and unfriendly.

The ride back home was long and confusing. We had no idea what we would do. My family had moved back for good and we had no extended family in Canada except for one relative.

Also, while I was raised to believe that I was capable of doing anything, I had led a very protected life. My hubby had also proudly taken on the role of my protector as we travelled in India. I could feel his helplessness and hesitation in having to send me off on my own to deal with the unknowns. It wasn’t that he didn’t have faith in my ability; it’s that he wasn’t sure how I would navigate alone. That’s something he didn’t feel right about.

I explained to him how it was so much easier being a female in the Canadian culture. While it put him at ease somewhat, I could only imagine how difficult it would be for him to visualize something he had never experienced.

I, on the other hand, had my own concerns. Where would I stay? How would I get a job? I had completed my Bachelors and Master’s in English but had no formal training of any kind. The job situation I had heard of was not ideal. Of course, these were in my head alone as he already had so much to deal with.

Lost in our thoughts, discussions, concerns, and dilemmas we reached my parents’ house.

Looking at our disturbed, long faces my father asked what was wrong. When we shared our story, he looked at us both and said, “If this is what you both truly want then I will go with her.”

We both looked at each other so grateful and relieved. Although it made the decision easier it was still the most difficult one we had ever made or would ever make.

It not only meant being separated from each other for an unknown period of time, but it also meant we would be looking struggles right in the face.

The alternative wasn’t any easier as family separations were a huge part of the army life. And it would mean signing up for a long-term difficult life style as compared to short term challenges. Also, how could we undermine the immense independence and opportunities Canada had to offer.

With this joint purpose, understanding, and wisdom, we confirmed our decision. Both of us feeling somewhat at ease with my father’s presence, and said our goodbyes.

Before heading into that plane, I turned back one last time, trying hard to fight back my tears, to catch a glimpse of the love that had become my entire world.

Our teary eyes could have never imagined the trials that lay before us.

New Beginnings

It was March 1984 when my father and I landed in Vancouver. The relatives we knew lived in the Okanagan Valley (a region known for its wineries and orchards), a good 4 hour drive from Vancouver. They had graciously come to receive us and would, of course, keep us at their home while I looked for a job. This was just the way of the immigrant families.

As we entered the valley surrounded with two beautiful fresh water lakes and fruit orchards in full bloom, I was blown away by the beauty of this land. Why did we ever leave here? I was grateful to be back.

The sense of confidence and freedom with which I was able to make my way around was so uplifting that every challenge now seemed exciting.
It was a small town with a lot of Portuguese settlers. People often mistook me for being Portuguese as there weren’t as many people of Indian origin there back then.

Finding a job was somewhat of a struggle. I wanted to work in a bank or with the city, but I was the new girl in town with an unfamiliar ethnicity and no connections or references. I knew I could not be picky. A job at the local drug store was my foot in the door. My aspirations and dreams would have to be a part of my future visions for now.

Of course, I would have to wait for the probation period to be over before I would get a job letter to sponsor Ravi. Every night, like a journal, I would write him a letter penning down the details of my day and sharing the dreams of a life that awaited us.

Walking to the small post office to mail my letter and pick up the one that awaited me was the highlight of my day. These hand written letters full of hope, vision and possibilities of our future life together were the thread by which we both held on.

Phone calls to India were a novelty back then. You had to get a third party to connect you. On the India side you had to go to the phone exchange. Majority of families did not have a phone in the house. The quality of the calls was very poor. It was always a challenge for soft spoken people like me. To top it all the cost of these calls was astronomical. Good old letters was the way to communicate.

The immigration office wasn’t too far. The day I got my job letter I went and filled out the paperwork. This must have been well into May. The officer told me it would take 3-4 months to process the application. While I wasn’t happy with the timeline, I had resigned to what was beyond our control. I filled my days by dreaming of the future.

The small staff at the drug store became my little support group and community. In my free time I tried new recipes and started to create a recipe book which I still have. I graciously accepted how life was teaching us patience and perseverance, but what awaited was truly unthinkable.

The Unthinkable…

The year was 1984. On one fine morning I woke up to the news of Operation Blue Star in Punjab, India. The Indian government, under Mrs. Gandhi’s rule attacked the Golden Temple to capture Sikh Militants taking refuge in the temple. The entire state was sealed. No mail, no phone calls, no contact what so ever.

From my colourful, vibrant dreams I now had to deal with the darkness that seemed to have taken over my entire world. Our pain and suffering, of course, pales in comparison to those who witnessed first hand the loss of human lives and loved ones. But at the time that clarity was far away from my thoughts as I prayed and missed everyone who mattered in my life.

It didn’t stop there. The after math of Operation Blue Star was the assassination of Mrs. Gandhi, the Prime Minister of India, on October 31, 1984. Now all of India was at a stand still, and so was my entire life along with it.

While my hubby witnessed a lot of the riots, attacks, and killings that took place everywhere, I suffered in isolation by the unknown, and the uncontrollable.

One can develop the resilience and grit to face life’s challenges and continue to pursue our highest dreams. But it is when life throws at us the most unimaginable and uncontrollable circumstances that we truly learn to resort to the power of faith and trust. At such times the heart has no other choice but to lean on hope. Hope, one realizes, is the biggest blessing bestowed upon us humans to endure the darkest of times.

And hope I did, for better times for all. (To be continued…)

With love and gratitude,

Devinder 💖

🦋 Lets us learn, grow and evolve together 🦋