When love transcends race, language and religion

At 73 years old, Mr Richard Ho's memory regarding his personal life is patchy.

But he still remembers clearly the day he set eyes on his good friend's sister Dorasamy Radabyee.

It was 1967.

He had made his way to the family home of his friend Doraisamy Vetrivel.

Just 16 then, the lanky, Chinese boy was so taken by his friend's older sister that he would always find a reason to "visit Doraisamy" in Tiong Bahru.

Fast-forward to 2024, and Mr Ho and Madam Rada, as she prefers to be called, celebrated their golden jubilee.

"Before I met Richard, my mother had tried to matchmake me but I protested," Madam Rada recounted.

As fate would have it, her thyroid glands were acting up and caused her neck to swell - a visible "anomaly" that put off two marriage prospects.

But even with the matchmaking out of the way, the young Richard and Rada had another hurdle: language.

She had dropped out after Primary 3 at a Tamil-medium school while he knew not a single word of Tamil.

Determined to woo her, he wrote her a letter containing only one line: "I kadhal (Tamil for love) you."

Rada, who had no romantic interest in Richard before receiving that short note, wanted to ensure he knew what he was getting into.

"I studied only up to Primary 3, I was not so educated," said Rada.

"He told me it was okay. He said to me, 'You look after your siblings and your sisters' children so well. And you cook well.'"

Rada told Richard she would marry him only if her mother agreed to it.

But the young couple did not get round to telling their parents about their relationship for years.

Richard continued to see Rada at her home and the pair would at times lunch at a nearby coffee shop.

"I would try to catch a glimpse of her whenever I walked past her home on my way to work at Keppel Harbour," recalled Mr Ho, adding that his parents eventually figured out that he was seeing someone.

Seven years into their relationship, Mr Ho's father died from a heart condition.

His mother, despite mourning the death of her own life partner, met up with Madam Rada's family to arrange for their children's union.

Mr Ho and Madam Rada got married in both a Tamil and a Chinese ceremony.

As the family was still in mourning, Madam Rada did not wear a thali - a wedding necklace worn by Indian brides. She wore a patch of white cloth pinned to her sleeve.

"It's okay, you can wear the thali after a year," her mother Mariyamma told her.

As for the language barrier, Madam Rada found a common tongue with her mother-in-law.

"We spoke to each other in Malay," Madam Rada recounted.

"She was always happy to introduce me as her daughter-in-law to the people she knew.

She added that her husband eagerly adopted the Indian culture.

"It is customary for traditional Indians to rub sesame oil on themselves on Saturdays. My mother and grandmother would rub sesame oil on my husband's head," Madam Rada recalled with a smile.

"He went to Puttarpathi in Andhra Pradesh thrice to meet the famous guru Satya Sai Baba."

Mr Ho chimed in: "My mother often pointed out that I did not know much about my own Chinese customs and prayers.

"But we have a common altar at home, with Chinese and Indian deities."

Today, Mr Ho can understand Tamil even though he still cannot speak it fluently.

The transition felt rather natural to Mr Ho, who had many Tamil friends as a child growing up in a kampung in Geylang and was a fan of Tamil movies.

"He is quite a devout man," said Madam Rada.

"He wakes up early and lights the altar lamps before leaving for work.

"He is gold, he devotes his life to me."

With a warm smile, Mr Ho added: "And she is very kind and loving."