I am a Black American and my husband is from Bangalore. For the past two years, we have lived in multiple corners in India, from his hometown to the foothills of the Himalayas. We have been met with lots of curiosity, but thankfully, never malice.
I am grateful for my husband’s family who have always showered us with love. I remember visiting my father-in-law in the ICU only a few days after we had met in person for the first time. He was beaming with pride as he told his nurses and doctors that I was going to be his daughter-in-law. I felt lucky to be shown such incredible kindness and acceptance. At Deepavali celebrations, weddings and other family functions, I have been similarly welcomed by my husband’s many aunts, uncles and cousins. In their company, my husband and I feel wonderfully normal.
Becoming accustomed to the stares and occasional questions from strangers has been challenging and taken time. I have never been able to navigate public spaces in India with anonymity, but my husband’s anonymity has been shattered. Ultimately, there’s nothing we can do about the unwanted attention so we do our best to ignore it and not let it hinder us. We are always tickled when asked if we have a love marriage? It would have been very cool to have been matched by Sima Aunty!
Our experience has shown us that there is greater tolerance in India for Blindian couples than we expected, and we’re grateful.
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