Then came a pause. Not being the type to make hypocritical small talk, I poured myself another drink, but was nice enough to ask them if they wanted one too, to celebrate their new idiot box.
“No thank you, it’s still early,” said the man, while his wife silently appraised the remaining things in the apartment, gazing longingly at my trendy kitchen.
“She is new to America,” explained the husband, “She is staying home these days, but will soon get a job. But she gets bored, so I am thinking we should be buying a television set for her.”
“Good thinking,” I said obviously disinterested. I glanced towards the woman, who was now looking at the spice rack.
“Oh you keep zeera, haldi and dhania!” she exclaimed.
“Well yes, for whenever I want to cook a desi meal.”
“Oh…you seem so American…where are you from?”
“Um, Pakistan I guess.”
“You are going back there?”
“I guess.”
“Oh, you will be so happy. Your mother will take care of you and so will your family. These Americans are so cold. Always wanting to be quiet and clean and neat. No fun. Not one of them plays in the rain, you know. All of them have umbrellas.”
Apparently, it didn’t take much for this woman to begin listing her woes against America.
“Why did you come here then?”
She paused before replying. “I got married.”
Her husband glanced at her with pride. “She is adjusting,” he said, “she has learnt how to use the washing machine already, even though it has only been a week since she came here. And I am teaching her how to use the cash register at the 7-11 where I work, so she can get a job too.”
Wow, what ambition!
There was something about the couple that I didn’t understand. Maybe it was because they seemed to be so happy, despite not having much. (I mean, no cell phone, no cab fare and no TV up till now…). Or maybe it was because despite the fact that they weren’t in the best of places they were living happily in their own little world, instead of going all out and trying to become ‘American’ like many of the immigrants in the US. (Maybe I was one of them too?)
Maybe it was the alcohol, or God knows what, but I told them to help themselves to the stuff in the kitchen, the spice rack, the Tupperware and the cooking utensils. Expensive items that I had bought, being brand conscious and all. I had thought that I would take them with me, but something told me the couple needed them more.
“Oh, see, Nikhil! This is how we Asians are to each other. We help each other out when we can!” exclaimed the woman excitedly, as she began to collect the stuff in a shopping bag.
The doorbell rang (no more knocks…maybe the friend was a little more with it.)
Within minutes they were gone, but not after thanking me profusely, calling me ‘bhaiya’ and what not. I poured myself yet another drink, called a cab and headed towards the bar, washing the whole incident off me…for that time, at least.
But a few days later, as I began packing the life that I had built for myself over the course of many years into boxes, I came across the couple’s umbrella. They must have missed it, but had chosen to let me have it.
It hangs, as I said before, near the entrance of my apartment. It has been more than a decade since that rainy day in May, and sometimes, the umbrella smells like the rain, promising new, clean beginnings that can allow you can start anew, to forget the past, and be comfortable with the thought of tomorrow.
I think I’ll let it hang there for a little while longer. Or maybe I will throw it away. It is, after all, tattered and torn.
I’m not sure though.
∞
ABOUT THE EDITORIAL TEAM
Curated and Edited by
Naheed Hassan
Sabahat Muhammad
Edited by
Mimmy Jain
Mimmy Jain has been a mainstream Indian journalist for the last 27 years and has worked in senior positions at publications such as The Economic Times, The Times of India, The Financial Express and Mint. You can find Mimmy at https://www.facebook.com/MimmyMGeorge, and at ‘Living in the Happily Ever After’ (mimmyjain.wordpress.com).
Sundari Venkatraman
Sundari Venkatraman tried drawing, painting, tailoring, embroidery, knitting, gardening and an umpteen other things before she discovered writing. Double Jeopardy is her first novella, and has been published by Indireads. Contact Sundari at http://www.facebook.com/AuthorSundariVenkatraman
Zeenat Mahal
Zeenat Mahal (@zeenat4indireads) is currently doing an MFA in creative writing from Kingston University, London. She won a BBC short story competition in 2001 and has been a regular contributor to newspapers. She is working on a literary novel with elements of magical realism, while continuing to write romances. She can be contacted on her FB page https://www.facebook.com/pages/Zeenat-Mahal.
Sucharita Dutta-Asane
Sucharita Dutta-Asane is a writer and independent fiction editor based in Pune.
In 2008, she received Oxford Bookstores’ debut writers' (second) prize for her anthology, The Jungle Stories. Her articles, book reviews, short stories, and a novella, Petals in the Sun have been extensively published across electronic publications.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Aman ki Asha
Romancing the Border
Peaceniche.org
Tehelka
The Dawn Group
&
Khudi
Khudi is a youth-focused social movement working to promote a democratic culture and pluralistic politics in Pakistan. Through varied initiatives, Khudi promotes the use of peaceful dialogue and discussion as the primary tools for dispute resolution, and aims to foster a culture of healthy debate within society. To this end, Khudi organizes regular trainings, seminars and debates, as well as partaking in public services and civil society associations and engagements.
Khudi’s work also includes the publication of Pakistan’s first bilingual monthly youth magazine ‘The Laaltain’ and the production of socially aware TV content for young Pakistanis. Khudi believes that direct and long-term engagement with the country’s youth is the best route to building a more progressive, prosperous and peace-loving Pakistan.
www.indireads.com
Love Across Borders Page 10