Threads of Tradition: Tales Of Indian Arranged Marriages

4.

The days that followed felt like a whirlwind of new experiences and adjustments. London was a sprawling, vibrant city, so different from the serene and familiar streets of Jodhpur. Every day seemed to bring new challenges—navigating the public transport system, adapting to cultural differences, and figuring out how to settle into a city that felt so vast and impersonal.

Devansh was incredibly supportive, but his demanding work schedule meant he was often away. He left early in the morning and came home late, his day filled with meetings and deadlines. While I understood the demands of his job, the loneliness of being alone in a new city was hard to shake. I had gone from being surrounded by my family and friends to feeling isolated in a place where I knew no one.

In the beginning, I spent my days exploring the neighborhood around our apartment. I wandered through parks, visited grocery stores, and stopped by quaint cafes, trying to familiarize myself with my surroundings. London felt like a bustling, indifferent place compared to Jodhpur, where everyone seemed to know each other and there was a sense of community.

On the third day, I decided to tackle the London Underground for the first time. Armed with a map and Devansh’s instructions, I headed to the nearest station. Standing on the platform, waiting for the train, I felt a mixture of excitement and nervousness.

When the train arrived, I was struck by the efficiency and the rhythm of it all. People moved with practiced ease, and I found a seat by the window. As the train sped through the city, I watched the diverse landscape flash by—tall buildings, historic landmarks, and the Thames winding through it all. The city’s diversity fascinated me, from the various languages spoken to the blend of modern and traditional architecture.

Over the next few days, I started to grow more comfortable navigating the city. I visited landmarks like Westminster, the Tower of London, and Buckingham Palace, and I often found myself retreating to quieter spots where I could sit with my sketchbook and draw. Architecture had always been a passion of mine, and in those moments, I found a sense of familiarity amidst the unfamiliarity.

Despite the solace I found in sketching, the homesickness was hard to shake. I missed my family, the lively festivals, the scent of incense from my father’s favorite brand, and the laughter of my cousins. I called home regularly, but the distance was palpable. London felt like a different world entirely.

One evening, after a particularly long day of exploring, I returned to the apartment to find Devansh already home. He was on the couch, his tie loosened and his laptop open. He looked up as I walked in and greeted me with a tired but warm smile.

“You’re back earlier than I expected,” he said, closing his laptop.

“I decided to come home,” I said, setting down my bag. “I went to Hyde Park today. It’s beautiful, but… I miss home.”

Devansh’s expression softened. He came over and gently cupped my face in his hands. “I know it’s hard, Paridhi. Moving to a new place is always tough, and London can feel overwhelming. But you’re doing so well, and I’m really proud of you.”

I managed a weak smile, feeling comforted by his support but still weighed down by my loneliness. “Everything here feels so different. I miss the warmth of home, the festivals, the colors. It’s like I’m just another person in a sea of strangers.”

Devansh sighed and pulled me into a hug. “I know. I felt the same way when I first moved here. It takes time to adjust. But I promise it’ll get better. You’ll find your place.”

We stood there for a while, wrapped in each other’s embrace. At that moment, I realized how much I appreciated Devansh’s steady presence. He might not be overly expressive, but he had a way of making me feel less alone in this new chapter of my life.

Over the next few weeks, Devansh encouraged me to pursue my career in architecture. He introduced me to some of his contacts, and I started attending networking events. While they were intimidating at first, I gradually began to feel more comfortable, using these opportunities to learn about the architectural scene in London.

One evening, after a particularly insightful event, Devansh came home with a surprise.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said as we sat down for dinner. “You’ve been missing designing, so I spoke to a friend who runs an architecture firm here. He’s agreed to meet with you next week. It’s just a conversation, but it could be a good start.”

My eyes widened in surprise. “Really? You arranged that for me?”

Devansh nodded, smiling at my excitement. “Yes. I know how important your career is to you, and I want to help you succeed here. London has so many opportunities, and I’m sure you’ll find your way.”

Tears of gratitude filled my eyes, and I reached across the table to squeeze his hand. “Thank you, Devansh. I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t need to say anything,” he replied softly. “I just want you to be happy and find your place here. We’re in this together.”

As the days went by, I began to feel more hopeful about my future in London. The homesickness was still there, but Devansh’s support gave me the confidence to take small steps toward building a life in this new city. I started reaching out to local architectural firms, seeking opportunities, and immersing myself in London’s design world.

Adjusting to this new life was still a work in progress, but I began to see that London could become my new home. It might not be familiar or easy, but I was learning to shape my life here, one step at a time. With Devansh by my side, I was starting to believe that we could make this marriage and this new life work, despite the challenges we faced.