One evening, we invited Bob and Evie to come over and taste the pakoras Raj had prepared. Once Bob tasted them, he became so obsessed that it was practically all he would talk about. Bob went on and on, praising Raj to no end. Raj only smiled and nodded her head as she formed the potatoes and cauliflower into small balls, coated them with a paste of chickpea flour mixed with spices, and deep fried them in cooking oil.
Any time I invited Bob to come to our place instead of us going to his, he would ask if he could bring along a friend so he could try the pakoras. “They go great with beer,” he would tell his friends.
For about a month and a half, Raj fixed pakoras three to four times a week. She did not object once, and after a couple of months, almost all our friends had met my wife and eaten her famous pakoras.
In January 1971, a reporter named Connie Remlinger asked to meet my wife and me so she could write a story about us for The Kentucky Post. The next day, she sat in my office and asked me all about my wedding from start to finish. An hour later, she asked if she could take pictures of us.
“Let me talk to my wife about it first,” I said.
I called Raj right away. “Raj, there is a lady from the newspaper here who wants to do a story on our wedding. She would like to take a picture of us.”
“What?” Raj exclaimed. “Why?”
“I don’t know. She just wants to take some pictures.”
Raj sounded hesitant, but she agreed.
“You have such long beautiful hair,” Connie said as soon as I introduced her to Raj. “Would you like to go put on a good sari? Then I will take a few pictures of you two. It won’t take long at all, I promise.”
Raj changed into her best sari, and we followed Connie outside into the early afternoon sunlight. Connie took out her camera and began giving us directions on how to pose. After snapping a few shots, she looked at us thoughtfully and said, “You know what I’d really like to see? Kris, have you carried Raj across the threshold yet?”
“No, what do you mean?”
“Oh, it’s an old tradition where the husband carries his wife in his arms into the house.”
Raj stared at the reporter in shock. Then she looked at me in disbelief. “Kris,” she said. “How are you going to carry me to the apartment on the second floor? I am too heavy!”
“Kris is good and strong,” Connie encouraged. “He can do it.”
As I bent to pick Raj up in my arms, she couldn’t stop laughing, her dark eyes shining as she smiled. I carried her to the building, looking toward her face and she looking toward mine with Connie several feet in front snapping picture after picture.
The story appeared on the front page of The Kentucky Post on January 23, with the title, “Want Ad Bride Didn’t Read It.” It was a constant source of amazement to the people of Covington that I would search for my wife by placing an advertisement in the newspaper, and after going to all this trouble, the woman I chose in the end never saw the ad. A few weeks later, the St. Elizabeth Hospital publication, Stethescoop, reprinted the story with the heading, “Mr. Bedi Finds a Wife.”
Long-awaited journey starts with Shagun of Good Luck from the family at my home in Nov. 1961
To the right of me, my sister-in-law with her brother and my younger sister
My mother and maternal grandmother at the railway station
Railway station, with my father and his friend who helped with depositing the money
Boarding the train to Bombay, a 1,200-mile journey over 34 hours
Boarded the ship on Nov. 26, realized truly leaving my family, tears start flowing
Ship sailing away to take me far away from home
Getting off the boat in 1961, reaching for my passport
At the residence of The President of the University of Tennessee, trying to score with his daughter, 1962
My first job at McDonalds in the summer of 1962, posing with Cherokee Indian children
Achieving hard-earned goals with sweat, tears, and blood: my Masters degree in 1969
My mother, pumping the water for our water buffalo in 1970. This is a task I used to do before leaving India
Marriage ceremony in 1970: My three sisters at the shop where I folded the cloth bolts during my high school years
Carrying my wife, Raj, across the threshold to my apartment in Covington, Kentucky in 1971
Promoted to Assistant Administrator at Providence Hospital in Cincinnati, Ohio in 1972
Visiting Kashmir, India in 1981, dressed as Kashmiris
Celebration of 10th anniversary of Providence Hospital in 1981
Enjoying the National American Institute of Industrial Engineers Convention
Mr. Gilreath, the administrator, awarding me a plaque of Excellence Service with Providence Hospital. I then accepted the position of Executive Director at a 500-bed complex to be built in New Delhi, India
Last goodbye kiss from Kathy, 1983
I partnered up with OSCAR television and appeared in a TV ad after achieving number one in sales at Gwalior Annual State Mela (Fair) in 1987
Awarding OSCAR TV to a winning athlete at the ceremony in 1988
Two to three weeks after bringing Raj to the US, I took her to Coppin’s
