TrendingVideosIndia
Opinions | CommentEditorialsThe MiddleLetters to the EditorReflections
UPSC | Exam ScheduleExam Mentor
State | Himachal PradeshPunjabJammu & KashmirHaryanaChhattisgarhMadhya PradeshRajasthanUttarakhandUttar Pradesh
City | ChandigarhAmritsarJalandharLudhianaDelhiPatialaBathindaShaharnama
World | ChinaUnited StatesPakistan
Diaspora
Features | The Tribune ScienceTime CapsuleSpectrumIn-DepthTravelFood
Business | My MoneyAutoZone
News Columns | Straight DriveCanada CallingLondon LetterKashmir AngleJammu JournalInside the CapitalHimachal CallingHill View
Don't Miss
Advertisement

A bride hunt at Sukhna’s promenade

Tribuneindia.com invites contributions to SHAHARNAMA. Share anecdotes, unforgettable incidents, impressionable moments that define your cities, neighbourhoods, what the city stands for, what makes its people who they are. Send your contributions in English, not exceeding 250 words, to shaharnama@tribunemail.com Do include your social media handles (X/ Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, LinkedIn)
Illustration: Lalit Mohan

Unlock Exclusive Insights with The Tribune Premium

Take your experience further with Premium access. Thought-provoking Opinions, Expert Analysis, In-depth Insights and other Member Only Benefits
Yearly Premium ₹999 ₹349/Year
Yearly Premium $49 $24.99/Year
Advertisement

I grew up in Sector 5, Chandigarh, a stone’s throw away from the iconic Sukhna Lake. There are so many fond memories of visiting the lake during my childhood but one memory in particular is unforgettable. I was still in school in Class XI. A friend, who lived close-by, would often cycle over on weekend evenings, and we would go for walk or a run on the lake’s promenade.

Advertisement

On one such evening, as we were walking along the bustling promenade teeming with evening joggers and families on a weekend outing, we were stopped by a woman in her late fifties or early sixties. She looked directly at me, and straightforward asked me if I was married yet. I exchanged confused glances with my friend and told her I was still in school.

Advertisement

As we were about to walk away, she stopped me again and with an anxious expression, blurted out that she was desperately looking for a wife for her son, and if I was interested to meet him she would be so relieved.

My eyes widened in shock as I looked around for my friend when I saw that she had walked away because she couldn’t control her laughter. “I am only 17, aunty. Sorry, and good luck to you,” I blurted out and ran to join my friend. We doubled down with laughter, still stunned by what had just transpired. Meanwhile, the aunty had walked away, visibly disappointed with her failed attempts to procure a daughter-in-law.

This memory comes rushing back every time someone mentions about Sukhna Lake.

Advertisement

Shaira Sahgal Mohan, Kuala Lumpur

Advertisement
Show comments
Advertisement