CHAPTER SIX
The Hindi word for religion is dharma.
As the month of October rolled around, bright sunny mornings turned into warm spring days. After a cold winter, the glowing radiance from the sun allowed us to bask in its tepid heat. The evenings became lighter and we knew summer was on the horizon.
I was so busy getting everything organised for our impending trip, I almost forgot that this was in fact the month I was supposed to have had my traditional white wedding.
* * * *
Our hectic lives were disrupted by the death of our dear old dog Jasper. He passed away in his sleep, it was terribly sad, he had been a part of our family for so long. Dad and Andrew dug a grave for him in the backyard, and with great sorrow lay Jasper in it. We gathered round for a small family funeral, but I couldn’t bring myself to look down at our wonderful pet who had given us so much love, even though they had wrapped him in his favourite bedtime blanket. As Dad and Andrew covered him with soil, each of us recited a memory of a special time with our dear friend. It was an emotional goodbye, we all shed many tears. For weeks afterwards, Penny, the cat, mourned our dear dog, meowing a soulful cry as she wound her body around our legs, the sadness showing in her eyes.
* * * *
We were counting down the days until we were to leave for India.
Kishore and I were getting ourselves ready for a night out. Fresh from the shower, I dressed in a pair of smart, black trousers and a midnight blue silk shirt. I was still wearing my silver and gold necklaces, which sat elegantly against my skin. The silver chain with the dangling cross hung slightly lower - they complimented each other. Admiring my reflection in the mirror, I did an overly dramatic twirl and made a show of batting my eyelids. I decided that tonight I looked and felt classy. I wondered, with a chuckle, which character from the New Zealand TV show Gloss I looked like the most; Gemma, Chelsea, or maybe Magda?
Once Kishore was ready, we decided I would drive my car so that he could have a glass of wine or two. Linda had invited us to Fisherman’s Wharf, a fine dining restaurant, because she wanted us to meet the new man in her life. She had been very secretive, keeping his identity under wraps and would not tell us a thing about him.
As our car sped along, Kishore and I tried to guess just who Linda's new boyfriend could be, perhaps someone who worked at McAllister and Co, or possibly a client? We were approaching the lanes leading onto the Harbour Bridge, there was a large truck not far up ahead so I pressed my foot on the brake.
"Julie," Kishore said.
"Mmmmm… yes dear?" I absentmindedly replied, keeping my eyes firmly locked on the back of the truck.
"Julie, you know you should have both hands on the steering wheel."
Whoops! I checked my hands - I had one on the steering wheel and one resting on the handbrake. This habit I had adopted recently, probably a bad one! I was about to move my hand that was resting on the brake when I felt Kishore's warm fingers enclose mine.
"Leave it there," he muttered as he gave it a gentle squeeze, "Let's see how far we can go without moving our hands."
It was risky but lady luck was shining on us, the truck disappeared into the distance and the traffic cleared as my car ascended the huge bridge and coasted down the other side, even the lights stayed green as we exited the motorway. I parked the car near the restaurant with Kishore's fingers still resting on mine, on top of the handbrake. We got out and shut the doors, and again clasped our hands together as we walked towards Fisherman’s Wharf, which was as close to being under the Harbour Bridge as a building could be without actually being in the water.
The night was dark and we stopped for a moment to look up at the top of the metal bridge towering high above us. The lights that helped to guide the traffic stretched across the huge arch, making the bridge look like a twinkling yellow rainbow. We turned to admire the illuminating glow from the cars and nearby buildings that reflected over the inky black water.
Following the waiter to our table we saw Linda and her mystery boyfriend were already there. Recognizing him instantly, my jaw almost hit the floor, I couldn't believe who he was. Lance, a guy I had gone out with just once, and quite frankly, for me, once was enough. He was a driver for the company I used to work for, O.S.W. Our 'date' had begun with me meeting him at a bar as pre-arranged, only when I arrived I saw he wasn’t alone and quite drunk; he and his rowdy group of very intoxicated friends were sharing a table.
The evening had been a disaster from the moment I had got there to the time I left - who brought their friends along on a first date? Lance had been so drunk that he made an absolute fool of himself and was a complete embarrassment to me. I didn’t stay long, just an awkward hour, and made my excuses to go home… alone.
It was a huge coincidence, Kishore Patel was also at the bar that night, only we didn’t know each other then, well, Kishore knew who I was, having seen me around McAllister’s. However, this was before the day he’d finally bitten the bullet and given me a flower. While sitting by himself at the bar in the pub that night, Kishore saw that I was uncomfortable with Lance and his drunken friends. Now he wished he’d had the courage to rescue me… and so do I.
For Linda's sake, I hoped he had matured since then. I was very relieved to see his mullet haircut had been replaced with a short back and sides. As Linda made the introductions and I prepared myself to confront him, it became clear Lance had not told her about me. He pretended to not know me and I soon found out that he now drove a van for another company so there was no connection from our days at O.S.W.
Fine, I decided, let sleeping dogs lie. If Lance had told her nothing about us then I wasn't about to mention it either. Besides there really had been no 'us', just that one, ill-fated time at the bar. We ordered dinner, and as our various seafood dishes arrived I noticed Linda and Lance looking at each other with x-rated eyes.
I was pleased I hadn't said anything about that doomed date, it was obvious they were smitten. They couldn't keep their hands off one another and as for those looks they kept exchanging, boy, they were steamy. Sadly, in contrast, the conversation round the table was as dry as a piece of stale bread. That was until we ended up on two subjects that were controversial - race and religion. These were especially risky topics of conversation considering present company.
Half-way through dinner, Lance, with his knife and fork poised in his hands, looked at Kishore from across the table, "So, Kee-shore, tell me how long has it been since you left Pack-ee-stan?"
Kishore and I took sidelong glances at each other, we had been through this with people before. It was like asking a person from America if they were Canadian, an Irishman if his accent was Scottish, or asking a New Zealander which part of Australia they were from. I couldn't help myself, I wanted to get back at Lance for what he did to me at the bar that night so I spoke up. "Lance, KISHore is from India, not Pakistan."
"Same thing, innit, it's the same country."
Linda nudged Lance but it was too late, he was in too deep.
"No, Lance, it is not the same country at all. Tell me…," I said as I got out my imaginary wooden spoon ready to do some stirring, "…are you religious?"
"Me?" He scoffed, "Nah, not interested."
"So where, in your opinion, do humans originate from."
He snickered, "Monkeys, we all came from monkeys."
I nodded, that being the answer I expected him to give, "So, if we all came from monkeys, originally our ancestors were monkeys, right?"
I saw a slight change in his face; he was beginning to see the hole he was digging for himself, "Umm… yeah I suppose so."
"So whether you support the evidence for evolution or believe in Adam and Eve or any religion, humans must have started from one male and one female, whether it be two monkeys - or two other types of beings, black or white - Chinese, African, or Dutch." Lance squirmed in his seat and combed his hand through his hair but unfortunately for him I was on a roll, there was no stopping me. I was still thinking of him as the drunken guy in the pub, ignoring me as he swilled beer after beer. Tonight was my chance for redemption and this was my moment.
I continued. "So, as we are all humans, populated from two beings, those very first two beings could have lived in India… so it's just possible your ancestors could be Indian." I didn’t know if I was right or wrong but what did it matter? At this stage I didn't care. "Lance, more and more people are immigrating to different countries, the world is becoming smaller. Mixed marriages are occurring more often, you never know, race may eventually become so intertwined that the whole world will become a melting pot of culture, with a little bit of each race in each person. All pure races will be gone. I have already traced my ancestry, I have in me Scottish, British and even French!"
I abruptly stopped, wondering if I had gone too far. I looked at the faces of Kishore, Linda, and finally Lance. His head was down and I got the impression he wished the big hole he had dug for himself would magically swallow him up. Thankfully, Linda quickly intervened, tactfully changing the subject to a safer topic - the weather.
After my outburst, as the evening progressed, we were able to get onto more civilized conversation and to Lance's credit I could see he was trying, despite his previous lame attempt at small talk. It was obvious he was younger than Linda but I could see he was just what she needed in her life. Anyway, who was I to judge when a couple should or shouldn’t be together?
Later, as we sat in the car and buckled our seatbelts, Kishore held up his hand for a high five. He was proud of me. His dear sweet Julie had spoken her mind, standing up for what she believed in. Although, I was sure he was oblivious to who Lance actually was. He had not recognised him as the guy from the bar that night, I enlightened him.
"Oh is he that guy?"
"Yes, Kishore he is that guy."
He again held up his hand and I gave him another high five.
"No wonder you had a go at him, Julie, you really got him back for what he did to you at the bar, good on you!"
"Linda’s a wonderful person and you have to work with her Kishore, so I hope for her sake she knows what she's doing."