‘Miss Universe’ for a day

Rameshinder Singh Sandhu  

WHENEVER my maternal uncle, who lives in Germany, visits India, he brings along his German colleagues and friends who are eager to explore India and its vibrant culture. Last year, one of his young co-workers took the risk of travelling alone.

During the last leg of her trip, she visited my maternal home at Butala village in Amritsar district. Curious to discover rural Punjab, she did not want to miss the ongoing three-day annual fair at the village that my uncle had told her about.

I was instructed to be her guide and my grandmother was told to welcome her. Brimming with excitement, the visitor arrived in the afternoon, and in the evening, as planned, I took her to the fair. ‘Let’s walk, it’s the best way to explore any country,’ she told me.

I was reluctant to take her around on foot, knowing how excited village residents would be to see her. As we stepped out, I prayed they would behave themselves. To my horror, she was stared at, at every door; some were keen to know who she was and where she had come from. As we marched further, windows were flung open and men climbed rooftops to announce to neighbours and friends that she was coming. ‘Gori in our village!’ voices rang out, but we continued to march on with a smile.

A group of naughty children with runny noses ran into us in the next street. Again and again, they shook hands with her and asked her in broken English all the questions they had mugged up in their English class at school.

It began with ‘What is your name?’ and ‘How are you?’ but soon veered to ‘How old are you?’, ‘What is your father’s name?’ And the most embarrassing, ‘Are you single or married?’ For a moment, the queries stumped her, but as the children left, she couldn’t stop laughing. Her positive vibes drew a trail of admirers.

As we entered the fair grounds, revellers disengaged from the fair. She became the source of chief amusement; the showstopper. Children and young women ran to her to take selfies and ‘groupfies’.

Even elderly men of the village stopped by to catch a glimpse of her and asked me introduce her to them. She was taking pictures of the fair, while the crowd was busy taking snapshots of her; but she kept her smile. As we strolled back home, I told her she had become a celebrity and the villagers would remember her for long. ‘I know,’ she said, ‘I could feel their excitement. It was a Miss Universe experience for me!’

The next morning, she left for Delhi to catch her flight back to Munich. In a few weeks, we received a postcard from her, thanking us for the hospitality. ‘Tell the villagers their Miss Universe misses them, too. Do thank the children who made me laugh — my best travel experience; will return soon,’she added.