My language of an ideal relationship was shaped and tuned to the true love my sister found.
The discovery was made when a once-boyfriend was unable to hear or imitate the sounds that spilled out of my mouth and perhaps because of it, our communication was impaired.
While she, (though limited by Skype and devices of technology built to bridge distances,) bounced back and forth between English and Nepali connecting his and her worlds in words, literal speak, and implied meaning–there are some things you just can’t translate.
So I too took suit and launched into a bi-lingual affair where our ears understood each other but our hearts were deafened by the other relationship-things that we did not want to hear.
And my sister and the man who loved her right, they picked up new sounds learned in shared experiences so exclusive to them that it brought them even closer.. and I, with a heart that’d be once glued and twice taped, felt…left behind and audio-impaired.
But now I’m older (and maybe not wiser) but I have enough wisdom to know I can’t have exactly what she has…and that’s okay because now, oh my love, now I have a man with his tongue split into two and between his two and my two we are a terrific trifecta of three– of him, me, and the us we create in between.
We refuse to be bruised by words that are accidentally (and admittedly sometimes intentionally) misused because when we communicate, we do so above religion, beyond race, and into a space where differences are there but their harm is obsolete . And so between his culture and history, and the craziness I live and inherit in my country we build tight ropes and cross ways and fly overs into each other’s souls knowing that we don’t just hear each other, we understand. we’re listening.
and on top of that, we see, we smell, we taste, and we touch the complexities of two different continents, of two different lives, that somehow magically end up being bound…by the strangest of similarities in our minds.
But the best, the best by far is able to speak it all and when I say, “ma timilai maya garchu,” he says “rakastan sua, baby,” and we can leave it to the silence to translate, “i love you”–but it isn’t necessary.