‘You’re too tall to be a hobbit,’ Olive said kindly.
‘Thank you,’ Jason said.
‘Have you got any friends we can set Nikki’s sister up with then?’ Olive asked. ‘Tall ones?’
‘I don’t really believe in the whole Indian set-up thing.’
‘Why not?’ Olive asked.
‘Too much pressure. Everyone gets so involved – friends, parents. They start putting deadlines on everything, as if every relationship between a woman and a man must lead to marriage. It’s stressful.’
‘Exactly!’ Nikki said. ‘Imagine going out with someone your mum picked for you. That’s an immediate turn-off.’
‘Then if it doesn’t work out, you have all of this explaining to do.’
‘And people to avoid.’
‘Too much drama,’ Jason agreed.
Nikki noticed Olive’s attention switching between them as if she was watching a tennis match. She slipped back to the trivia tables, giving Nikki a wink over her shoulder as she left.
A wild wind battered the bus windows with rain. Passengers hurried off the bus and ran, huddled, towards the temple. Nikki gripped the edges of her rain jacket hood but the wind bit at her cheeks. Last night, after she closed the pub and had her last cigarette outside with Jason, they had discussed quitting smoking. ‘I’ll quit with you,’ he said. ‘We can help each other out. Of course, this means I’ll have to have your number. You know, for tracking my progress and inspirational pep talks.’
Now after braving the rain and managing to arrive at the temple’s wide awning, Nikki contemplated having her last cigarette. She made her way along the edge of the building and cut across the car park, ducking into the alleyway. The cigarette was well worth it. She took a long draw and wondered how she was going to quit, but the idea of having an excuse to talk to Jason made it worthwhile.
Deep in thought, Nikki finished her cigarette and stepped out of the alleyway. Behind her, a gruff voice called out. ‘Excuse me,’ he said.
She turned around to see a stout young man wearing a checked shirt with the top buttons undone to expose the curly hairs on his chest.
‘Is this the temple?’ he asked. Something in his voice gave Nikki the impression that he wasn’t asking, but telling.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Are you lost?’ She matched his stare. His lips curled back in disgust as he stepped towards her.
‘Your head should be covered,’ he said.
‘I’m not in the temple yet,’ Nikki replied.
The man stepped towards her. There was a hard look in his eyes. Nikki’s stomach fluttered with nerves. She glanced around and, with relief, noticed a family milling in the temple’s entrance.
His eyes followed her gaze. ‘Cover your head in the presence of God,’ he said eventually through his teeth. He stalked off, leaving Nikki bewildered.
All of the women were already in the classroom when Nikki arrived. They were busy in their conversations and Nikki did nothing at first to interrupt them. She was distracted by her encounter with the man. She had never seen somebody so aggravated by an uncovered head on temple grounds. Who was he to order her around?
Tarampal Kaur trailed in after her and took her seat at the furthest end of the room. She laid out her pencils in a row and then looked up expectantly at Nikki. ‘I’ll be with you in a moment,’ Nikki told her. The other women looked up as if noticing Nikki for the first time.
‘We talked about our stories on the bus all the way here,’ Manjeet said.
‘On the bus? Couldn’t other people hear you?’ Tarampal asked.
‘Nobody eavesdrops on old lady chatter. To them it’s all one buzzing noise. They think we’re discussing our knee pain and funeral plans,’ Arvinder said.
‘You could at least try to be discreet,’ said Tarampal.
‘Ah, being discreet gets us nowhere,’ Preetam said. ‘Remember playing coy and pretending not to want it?’
‘And not talking about it afterwards. I always wanted to know – was it good for him? Could he try to last longer next time?’ Manjeet said.
‘Or possibly add a few more tricks to his repertoire,’ Arvinder added. ‘There was so much of this.’ She reached out and squeezed two imaginary breasts, then pantomimed a man rocking rapidly back and forth. ‘Then it was over.’ The women screeched with laughter and applauded the reenactment.
‘You’ll be caught for talking about these things,’ Tarampal said. ‘And then what?’
The women fell silent and exchanged looks. ‘We’ll deal with it if it happens,’ Sheena said finally. ‘Like Arvinder said, nobody listens to us.’
‘Come on, Tarampal,’ Manjeet said with a nervous smile. ‘It’s just a bit of fun.’
‘You’re taking a big risk,’ Tarampal said. She began gathering her things. ‘If you’re found out, it’s not my problem.’
The look of dismay on Manjeet’s face was clear. Arvinder reached out and squeezed her arm comfortingly. ‘The only way we’ll be discovered is if somebody tells,’ Arvinder said. ‘Are you planning on reporting us? Because if you dare do it, Tarampal, then we’re all witnesses to the fact that you were in this class as well.’
‘So what?’ Tarampal asked.
Preetam stood up and walked slowly to Tarampal. Suddenly she had the gait of a fierce matriarch from one of her dramas – tall and powerful, with her chin tipped upwards at an angle so she could stare down Tarampal.
‘We’ll say that you started all of it and then became resentful when we didn’t like one of your stories. That’s the word of four women against one. And Nikki, who can convince people because she has a law di-gi-ree,’ Preetam said.
‘Um, I don’t have a law degree, and also, surely there’s a better way …’ Nikki started.
‘You’re shameless, all of you,’ Tarampal spat. She stormed out of the classroom.
‘Wait, Tarampal, please,’ Nikki called, following her. In the hallway, Tarampal paused, clutching her bag to her chest. Her knuckles had gone white. ‘Tarampal, before you rush to tell Kulwinder about our classes, just please—’
‘I don’t plan on going to Kulwinder again. I tried. She didn’t want to hear it,’ Tarampal said.
‘Oh,’ Nikki said. She didn’t know whether to be angry at Tarampal or pleased with Kulwinder. ‘Then who are you so afraid of?’
Tarampal didn’t answer Nikki’s question. She glanced at the small window in the classroom door. ‘Did you see how the women ganged up on me in there?’ she asked. ‘I’ve known them for years and they’ve just turned their backs on me. What makes you think you can trust them?’
‘They were just trying to protect themselves,’ Nikki said.
‘You’re sure about that?’ Tarampal asked.
‘Yes,’ Nikki said. But when she peered at the widows, an uneasy feeling came over her. They were chatting amongst themselves, their voices tinny and barely audible in the hallway. She knew nothing of their world.
‘Why don’t you come back inside, Tarampal? We can work something out.’
Tarampal shook her head. ‘I’m not going to risk being associated with these classes. Those women have no integrity. They don’t care about their late husbands’ reputations. I have Kemal Singh’s good name to uphold. Do me a favour and throw out my registration sheet. I want nothing to do with these stories.’ She stalked off.
‘We should ask her to come back,’ Manjeet was saying when Nikki returned to the classroom. ‘You know what she’s capable of.’
‘Listen, Manjeet. Didn’t we stand by you when Tarampal found out about your husband leaving you? She left you alone once she knew she was outnumbered,’ said Preetam.
‘What do you mean?’ Nikki asked. ‘What was Tarampal going to do?’
‘Nothing now,’ Arvinder declared. It didn’t answer Nikki’s question. Arvinder’s chest was puffed out with pride. ‘Don’t worry, Manjeet.’
‘Hai, but her bus just left. She’s going to have to wait twenty minutes now for the next one,’ Manjeet s
aid.
Nikki watched the temple’s car park from the window. Tarampal emerged from the building and walked briskly towards the street. A silver BMW slowed down next to her and a window rolled down. Tarampal stooped to chat with the driver and then got inside.
‘She just got into someone’s car,’ Nikki said. ‘Is that safe?’
The women looked at each other and shrugged. ‘What would a dangerous man want with old ladies like us?’ Arvinder asked.
‘Tarampal’s only a few years older than me,’ Sheena said defensively. ‘She’s in her forties.’
This shouldn’t have been surprising to Nikki. The smoothness of Tarampal’s face bore such contrast to the dreary widow’s clothing she draped herself in. That stooping walk, that sigh as she sat at her desk, were just affectations to play the withered and weary character expected of widows. ‘It’s okay to just hop into someone’s car and be driven home here?’ Nikki asked.
‘It’s probably not a complete stranger. People offer me lifts home from the market all the time. They usually identify whose son or daughter they are first,’ Arvinder said.
‘Was it a silver BMW?’ Sheena asked. Nikki nodded. ‘It was probably Sandeep then, Resham Kaur’s grandson.’
Preetam let out a humpf at the sound of Sandeep’s name. ‘That boy who thinks he’s too good for any girl in this community. He even rejected Puran Kaur’s great-niece from America. Remember her? She visited for a wedding. Skin like milk and her eyes were green.’
‘Resham told me they were contact lenses,’ Manjeet said.
‘Hai, Manjeet, you believe everything you hear. Of course Resham would go around spreading rumours about the girl and claiming she wasn’t good enough for her precious boy,’ Sheena said. ‘She’s one of those old-fashioned Indian mothers, completely infatuated with her sons. When her eldest got married, she slept in the bed between him and his wife for a month to prevent them from having relations.’
‘It took him a month to ask his mother to leave his bed? What a wimp,’ Preetam declared. ‘If that were me, I would have pretended to cry loudly in my sleep every night like a terrified new bride until she got sick of it and left us alone. I would say, “Make a choice! Your mother or me?” And he’d choose me.’
‘My mother-in-law did the same thing,’ Arvinder said. ‘Not on the wedding night, she left us alone that night. But many nights I’d fall asleep and wake up to see her snoring peacefully between us. I asked my husband, “Doesn’t that noise bother you?” He said, “Noise? What noise? She’s my mother.”’
Nikki’s mind was still on Tarampal. ‘Why does Tarampal have to maintain her husband’s reputation if he’s dead?’
The women exchanged looks. ‘Kemal Singh was a religious pundit,’ Manjeet said, ‘good at telling fortunes and doing special prayers for people. Some people still pay respects to him. She’s being a devoted wife by making sure that his reputation stays clean.’
Arvinder snorted. ‘Devoted wife? She’s got better things to do with her time.’
‘She still has an image to keep, doesn’t she? She depends on it. I wouldn’t be surprised if she came knocking on all our doors tonight with a special prayer,’ Manjeet said.
‘I’d show her these and she’d leave in an instant,’ Arvinder replied. She held out her palms. The women snickered at what was clearly another one of their inside jokes – something about Arvinder’s fortune lines, Nikki guessed.
Sheena looked up. ‘Nikki, don’t concern yourself too much with Tarampal,’ she said. ‘As long as the men don’t find out about these stories, we’re fine.’
Nikki thought about the temple’s dining hall, and the strict divide that ran like an invisible force field between the men and women. ‘I trust that won’t be a problem,’ she said. ‘None of you really chat with the men, do you?’
‘Of course not. We’re widows. We don’t have any more contact with men. We aren’t allowed,’ Preetam said.
‘Not such a bad thing,’ Arvinder said.
‘Speak for yourself,’ Sheena retorted. ‘I didn’t have as many good years with my husband as you all did with yours.’
‘Good years? Between the cleaning, cooking and fighting, where was the time for good years?’ Arvinder looked up at Nikki. ‘The girls in your generation are luckier. At least you get to know the person before marrying him. You can separate the idiots from the bloody idiots.’
Manjeet giggled in appreciation. Sheena remained pensive, her eyes downcast. Nikki could sense that it was time to change the subject. ‘Who has a story to share?’ Nikki asked.
Arvinder’s hand shot confidently into the air.
The Shopkeeper and His Customer
The shopkeeper was busy stocking his shelves when the door of the shop opened and a woman walked in. She was slim but her hips were wide and she was wearing modern English clothes but she was Punjabi. He asked her, ‘Can I help you?’ She ignored him and went to the back of the shop. He thought she might be a shoplifter but then he wondered how she would smuggle the stolen goods out of the shop in such tight-fitting clothes. He followed her to the back of the shop and saw her looking at the rows of spices.
‘Which one do I use for making tea?’ she asked.
The correct answer was cardamom and fennel seeds but the shopkeeper did not want to say. He wanted her to keep asking questions in her very sweet voice.
‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘I don’t make tea.’
‘If you tell me, we can make tea together,’ the woman said. She smiled at him. He smiled back and leaned close to help her with her choices. ‘Maybe it’s this one,’ he said, picking out a packet of mustard seeds. He held it to the woman’s nose to give her a whiff. She shut her eyes and inhaled. ‘No,’ she said. She laughed. ‘You don’t know anything.’
‘I may not know anything about brewing tea, my dear,’ the shopkeeper said, ‘but I do know how to keep that smile on your face.’
He put the packet of seeds back on the shelf and tucked her hair behind her ear. She leaned towards him and gave him a kiss on the lips. He was surprised. He was not used to this sort of behaviour in his shop, even though he had started flirting with her first. The woman took his hand and led him to the back room of the shop and turned around to face him.
‘Why is she leading him to the back room? Shouldn’t he take her? How does she know where it is?’ Preetam asked.
‘Don’t interrupt me,’ Arvinder snapped. ‘Do I butt in when you are narrating a story?’
Sheena put down her pen and gave her wrist a stretch. ‘This is hard work,’ she commented in English to Nikki.
‘It’s not making any sense,’ Preetam argued, ‘unless she has actually been there before. Maybe she is a girl that he wanted to marry but his parents wouldn’t allow it so she has come back in a disguise.’
Arvinder looked irate but Nikki could see that she was considering the suggestion. ‘Okay, Sheena, put in that detail as well.’
‘Where?’ Sheena asked.
‘Just anywhere. So anyway, we’re getting to the best part. The woman started taking off her clothes. She twirled around until her sari had completely unwound from her body.’
‘I thought she was wearing modern clothes,’ Sheena said. ‘Why is she dressed in a sari now?’
‘Saris are a better image.’
‘So change that as well? No modern clothes?’
‘No woman wearing a sari would be as forward as that.’
‘Rubbish. All over London women are carrying on like this, no matter what they wear.’
‘London, maybe. The goris do this, but not in Southall,’ Manjeet said.
‘In Southall too. You know that hill behind Herbert Park? Young boys and girls are always meeting there. We had relatives visiting one summer and we took them there in the evening to see the sunset. We saw a Muslim woman wearing a full hijab dashing from one parked car to another – from one man to another. All kinds of things happen,’ Preetam said.
‘Is that where Maya got caught then?
’ Manjeet asked. The room became a vacuum. The women shifted in their seats, reminding Nikki of the uncomfortable looks on the faces of those women in the langar hall when the Green Dupatta had been holding court. Something about Kulwinder’s daughter made people react in this way. ‘What?’ Manjeet asked, looking around. ‘Tarampal isn’t here any more and I never got the full story because I was in Canada.’
‘He found text messages on her phone,’ Preetam said. ‘That’s what I heard anyway.’
‘You heard, but what do you know?’ Arvinder asked, turning to her. ‘I didn’t raise you to speak ill of the dead.’
‘Hai, but everybody knows now, nah?’ Preetam said. ‘It’s been nearly a year.’
‘Not everybody,’ Sheena said, nodding at Nikki. ‘And she doesn’t need to know. I’m sorry Nikki, but this is a private matter. It’s not something Kulwinder would like us discussing.’
It was another reminder that the women did not fully trust her. Why can’t I know? she wanted to ask as the women exchanged looks and glares. Sheena looked particularly annoyed. It all made Nikki more intrigued by Maya and her salacious past. It was more for curiosity’s sake that Nikki wanted to find out about Maya, but perhaps she’d also have a better chance of building her relationship with Kulwinder if she knew. She considered bringing this up with the widows – after all, it was in their best interests that Kulwinder thought the English classes were going well – but Sheena suddenly took over directing the class.
‘Go on with your story then, Arvinder,’ Sheena said. She pointed to the clock. ‘We don’t want to be here all night.’
There was a noticeable pause. The women looked at Nikki. ‘Yes, let’s move on,’ Nikki said. ‘We were right in the middle of it.’ She gave Sheena an appreciative smile, which was returned. The others began to relax.
Arvinder shrugged. ‘I don’t know where to go next.’
‘Describe his organ,’ Sheena offered. ‘Big or small?’
‘Big of course,’ Arvinder scoffed. ‘What’s the point of a skinny carrot entering you?’
Erotic Stories for Punjabi Widows Page 11