Vietnamese Woman Abandons Career for Cross-Border Love in India

Nhu Y never imagined that offering a glass of orange juice to a stranger at a conference would lead to a transnational love story and the challenge of navigating a culture as traditional as her own.

In March 2024, at the Vietshrimp Aquaculture International Conference in Ca Mau, Nhu Y’s booth was next to Abhishek Khandelwal’s. She noticed this foreign man so engrossed in his work that he hadn’t even taken time to drink water. With a kind gesture, she offered him a glass of orange juice. Their meeting was brief, as both were occupied with their professional responsibilities. However, over the next three months, regular text messages gradually brought them closer together. "No one said 'I love you,' but we both felt like we were leaning toward each other," Nhu Y, 31, from Hau Giang, recalls.

Nhu Y and Abhishek Khandelwal. Photo courtesy of the couple

Despite their growing connection, there seemed to be a cultural barrier. Khandelwal, 30, hails from Patna in northern India, where the concept of arranged marriages is deeply rooted. It was unusual for a man to marry a foreign woman. At first, his parents strongly opposed the relationship. They even traveled over 2,000 km from their hometown to Bengaluru, where he worked, to dissuade him and introduce him to a "suitable" girl from their community.

To ease the tension, Khandelwal stopped contacting Nhu Y for half a month. Only after his parents left did he finally tell her about the family's resistance. "That’s when I realized he was under so much pressure. He didn’t dare to confess because he was afraid I’d get my hopes up and then get hurt," she explains.

Khandelwal refused to give up and continuously tried to convince his parents. He even sought help from his cousin in Europe, who had influence within the family. Eventually, by the end of 2024, his parents reluctantly agreed to a video call with Nhu Y. The language barrier turned the meeting into a "disaster" since she couldn't speak English. His parents expressed disappointment: "If you can't even talk for a minute, how can you live together for the rest of your life?" That comment hurt Nhu Y’s pride but also strengthened her determination. Despite switching to a high-stress banking job, she dedicated herself to studying English every night.

On many days, she only had time to drink milk instead of eating food before class. By the time of the second call, his parents were surprised by her progress in English. Moved by her sincerity, they said: "If you two have tried so hard for each other, we will support you."

To further prove her commitment, she decided to quit her job and travel to India to experience his family’s lifestyle. "I believed the door to my career would open again at any time, but I could not miss the opportunity to find the right partner," she says.

Nhu Y’s mother-in-law gives the bride a dowry and a big hug at the wedding in Mekong Delta City of Can Tho on Nov. 9, 2025. Photo courtesy of Nguyen Minh Tri

It was only when leaving for India that she finally told her family about her romance with the Indian man. Her mother kept asking: "Why did you choose such a thorny path?" Nhu Y couldn’t provide a convincing answer, but she knew that if she had to choose, it would always be Abhishek.

Her month in Bengaluru helped erase any lingering doubts his family may have had. She quickly adapted, learning things like how to clasp her hands together and say "Namaste," understanding Hindu temple rituals, and the significance of the red dot on a woman’s forehead. Her natural warmth and eagerness to learn transformed his family’s initial surprise into affection. The day she had to leave for Vietnam, his parents had tears in their eyes. "At that moment I truly knew I had another family," she says.

A few months later, Khandelwal came to Vietnam to meet her family. To impress his future in-laws, he even shaved his beard, which is now a fashion statement for Indian men. The top business executive became a simple son-in-law in the Mekong Delta, watching Doraemon cartoons and making an effort with Vietnamese, which made Nhu Y’s parents "love him like their own child."

With all barriers finally shattered, his parents became more involved in organizing the wedding than anyone else. They went through every detail of Vietnamese weddings online, even texting their future daughter-in-law about the meaning of each item to ensure everything was prepared correctly.

The groom Khandelwal, his parents and young people go in a procession to pick up the bride on the wedding day in Can Tho on Nov. 9, 2025. Photo by Nguyen Minh Tri

The wedding in Can Tho on November 9 was an unusual blend of cultures: Next to the traditional Vietnamese wedding arch, made of coconut leaves and adorned with images of dragons and phoenixes, the groom’s family invited an Indian monk to perform a ceremony at a Hindu temple in Ho Chi Minh City. In Hindu wedding style, the groom led the bride around the sacred fire seven times while promising the key principles of marriage: sharing food, building wealth together, hoping for children, and remaining eternally faithful.

An Indian meal after the ceremony erased any lingering concerns about cultural differences related to food. Nhu Y’s mother says: "Both sides felt closer. I am wholly content to let my daughter get married to someone from afar."

The happiness continued with another wedding, this time a Hindu one in Patna a few days later. Following the rituals, the Vietnamese bride became an official member of the Khandelwal family.

For him, his family’s worries about a "foreign daughter-in-law" have completely vanished. "My smart and kind Vietnamese bride has completely won my family over," he says, thanking both families, and especially her for co-authoring a beautiful love story.

"In a world filled with hate and instability, true love will always win. We are proof."