Julie & Kishore

by Jackson, Carol

  Six months went by with Kishore knowing the girls routine probably better than she did herself. Each time she came to the office he practiced the lines he had been rehearsing. Early in the morning, as he locked himself in the bathroom, he studied his appearance in the mirror while shaving. He took on an expression the same as the actor from that TV show he had been watching, Miami Vice, what was the guy’s name? Oh yes, Don Johnson. With his lower face covered in shaving foam and razor in hand, Kishore imitated the star, saying the lines he heard western men use when asking a girl out, ‘Hi baby, would you like to go out for a drink sometime?’ or ‘Hey sugar, how would you like to go to a movie?’

  Sadly, he always missed his chance and he found himself watching the girl complete her tasks and leave the office. He kicked himself as each opportunity went by without gaining the courage to speak to her.

  To his delight, his next chance arose one morning when a little celebration was being given for Linda, a senior accountant of the firm who had just been promoted to second in charge under Mr McAllister. All the staff, about ten people had gathered in the lunch room at morning tea time, with Mr McAllister himself producing a cake. Gillian, managing to escape the switchboard, hurried in, carrying two Tupperware containers.

  “Look who I found,” she declared, giving Kishore a quick wink and a smile. His mouth dropped open, trailing behind Gillian was her, the red-head. Setting the containers on the table, next to the cake and a pile of serviettes, Gillian took off the lids.

  “I made these last night,” she proclaimed, “Afghans and a chocolate slice, made with weetbix.”

  Kishore, remembering to close his mouth managed a side-long glance at the red-head as she shook Linda’s hand. He saw her pale-pink lips forming the word congratulations. She seemed to be especially happy today she had a certain glow to her cheeks.

  He frantically thought of things he could say to start a conversation, a lot of people were in the lunchroom and she was right there in front of him, so it should have been easy, ‘Would you like a piece of cake?’ or simply, ‘How are you?’ Turning towards the table he picked up a serviette and an afghan, he berated himself, ‘Come on Kishore, this is silly, just say hello.' He gathered his strength and committed himself to the fact it was now or never. Holding his breath, with the biscuit in his hand he turned back to look for her - but she was gone. His eyes quickly scanned the lunchroom but she wasn’t there, he had once again missed his chance.

  Indian boys are shy - he’d be the first to admit it. Despite this he was sure he’d fallen in love with her. The thing he loved most was her stunning hair although her smile made him feel all funny inside.

  When she came into the office, she was like a breath of fresh air, walking around chatting to the other staff members, always cheerful and happy, so carefree and easy going. Kishore knew she didn’t even know he existed. She smiled politely at him but she had never even said his name. Even so, just looking at her was enough to make him hold his breath, his heart beat faster and his palms go sweaty. These were the classic signs of a person falling in love.

  Kishore, who had just turned twenty-three years old was of average height with cocoa brown hair and eyes, his skin was caramel and smile broad. He was certainly ready for a relationship and even though he had never had a girlfriend, he was ready for marriage. He didn’t believe in going out with a girl, just to go out with her. He knew when he finally met a girl he did like, in that way, it would be with the intention of commitment for a lifetime. Since coming to New Zealand, he had spent Friday and Saturday nights trying the nightclub, pub and bar scene but it wasn’t for him. So he spent his weekends wandering around the shopping malls alone, alone and bored but he had soon learnt this was not the way to find a wife.

  Having almost given up on bars he decided on a Friday evening to go out one last time. It was a last minute decision but he hoped it would help take his mind off the red-head. Maybe luck would be in his favour and he would meet someone, it could be he was wrong and he wasn’t meant to be with her, possibly someone else would come into his life. Dressed in jeans and a business shirt he entered the bar, Brandy’s. Sitting on a stool he asked the bartender for a beer, Lion Red, the Kiwi man’s drink. He sipped it slowly as he scanned the room trying to look like he had a purpose for being there. It was quite busy - a noisy group of people were in one corner, laughing loudly, a halo of smoke hung above them. The main door opened and Kishore glanced over, he couldn’t believe his bulging eyes - he nearly dropped his drink, it was her, really her! He lowered his head to compose himself, then cautiously peeked in her direction. He watched as one of the guys from the group in the corner approached her. Kishore observed as she went and sat with them, his heart sank like a rock swiftly falling to the bottom of the ocean as he thought this guy must be her boyfriend. But, he decided something didn’t look right, she didn’t mix with them she sat poker faced staring straight ahead. He realised that man couldn’t be her boyfriend, he could tell from her body language she wasn’t having a good time. Why couldn’t he just get up and go over to her? Wouldn’t that make him worthy of being her boyfriend, a gallant knight rescuing a damsel in distress? Unfortunately, his legs were like lead unable to move from his spot at the bar, he sat and watched her as discreetly as he could for about an hour until he she rushed past him and out the door.

  During Kishore’s childhood he had been surrounded by Indian women. Most of them were especially beautiful and graceful and as he grew older he understood how hard they worked. His Mother worked all day, every day doing her chores. Her main chore was cooking – Indian cooking is extremely time consuming – every meal contains ginger, garlic and onions, each ingredient must be peeled, chopped and fried, one by one. Kishore’s Mother performed this task three times a day for each meal. Chopping, frying, adding spices, stirring, then peeling and chopping again - this time it would be vegetables. She would make the dough for the chapattis (or roti, round flat bread) and then roll them out ready for cooking. Kishore watched his Mother a lot while she was in the kitchen, which was almost all of the day. She made pickles, sweet treats and dahl. When she wasn’t in the kitchen she would be washing clothes by hand or sweeping the floor and tending to every need of her husband and four children.

  Despite his loneliness Kishore knew he didn’t want this in a wife. He wanted a partner who was equal to him, a modern wife, a companion, someone who did not want to spend her life in the kitchen. Kishore always imagined his wife would be English and he also knew this would mean he would choose his bride, not his family. He was determined not to go down the traditional path of an arranged marriage.

  Something had drawn him to New Zealand and it wasn’t just financial gain. He knew in his heart someone waited for him, someone he would love forever.

  Kishore’s parents knew their son’s bold uncharacteristic nature would make it impossible for him to change his mind in regard to marriage. In fact, they knew their son would choose his bride regardless of their intervention. In spite of that ache in his heart for a companion, Kishore knew an Indian woman wasn’t meant for him and in his heart he hoped the girl who day-by-day he was growing fonder and fonder of, was.

  The girl whose name was Julie.

  CHAPTER NINE

  The Hindi word for flower is phul.

  On a day no different to any other, I entered McAllister and Company, Accountants.

  “Good Morning,” I announced cheerily to Gillian.

  “Hiya Julie,” was her bubbly reply as she handed over the stationery list she had prepared for the company’s office requirements.

  Gillian was, unequivocally, the ultimate ‘80’s Kiwi chick – a cross between Kylie Minogue and Cindy Lauper - bright lipstick, teased hair with frosted highlights, a big smile and even bigger shoulder pads.

  Once a month Gillian and I met in the boardroom and went over any changes in McAllister and Co.’s stationery requirements and we discussed the new products that were displayed in O.S.W.’s glossy catalogues. One or two of the
accountants often joined us to see what was new in the world of stationery. To be honest, I had noticed the Indian accountant, Kishore attending the boardroom meetings more than any of the other staff. I assumed as he was new to the country and the youngest member of the team, he sat in with us to learn more about the products in the range or to see how the system here works.

  Little did I know Kishore was secretly waiting for the right moment to approach me to let me know what was truly on his mind and it certainly wasn’t paperclips.

  Today was not one of those meeting days, I had called in only to collect the stationery list. As I stood talking to Gillian, Linda came over to say hello. She wore glasses, a professional grey women’s business suit and her hair was cut short in a trendy easy to manage style. Despite her business-like appearance, she was easy to approach.

  I had chatted to her a few times but I didn’t know her that well, so I was surprised when she said, “Julie would you like to join me for a coffee?” I was ready for a drink and liked to network - you never know, I thought, I might make a sale.

  I remember very well the last time I had spoken to Linda, it was the day Gillian had invited me to join the staff to celebrate Linda’s promotion. It was a memorable day, because I had just found out that morning Andrew and Tanya were expecting their first baby. I was going to be an Aunty, I was so happy! The smile I wore from ear to ear never left my face that whole day. I only stayed briefly at the celebration knowing I had a lot of clients to visit, after congratulating Linda on her promotion I quickly left.

  Today, as Linda and I entered the lunchroom it was empty. I immediately noticed a bunch of pink carnations that were sitting in a vase on the table, I exclaimed, “Oh aren’t they sweet!” Linda agreed and we got ourselves a drink, sat at the table, sipped our coffees and talked about her role at McAllister and Co. now that she had settled into her promotion.

  Before too long she had to go back to work but I decided to stay a few more minutes to fill out my order forms. My head was bent over my papers when Kishore entered the room. Raising my head, I smiled politely, of course I recognised him, I knew his name but didn’t know him well enough to talk to - we had only exchanged a few courteous hellos or spoken briefly about work matters.

  I continued working. Though eventually, I felt his eyes upon me. Looking up, I saw Kishore standing over me - suddenly he thrust a flower towards me. Feeling my face blush from my neck to my forehead I took it from him, I was stunned, “What’s this?” I asked in surprise. He was unable to answer because just at that moment Linda returned as she had apparently forgotten something.

  She tried to digest just what was going on as Kishore brushed past her making a quick exit, I was glad she decided not to say anything to me…I was incapable of answering. Although she did sum up the situation pretty quickly, she was an accountant after all, she glanced towards the door Kishore had just gone through, then back at me and back towards Kishore.

  ‘Kishore and Julie, who would have thought?’ she wondered. Looking at me again, sitting like a possum caught in a cars headlights she made her decision. While muttering to herself, “Well, Linda my dear, it seems it is up to you,” she spun around and ran after him.

  Catching up with Kishore at his office door, Linda asked, “Why did you give Julie a flower?”

  He didn’t answer but she didn’t give up and her next question happened to be the right one, “Do you like Julie?”

  His eyes were firmly locked on a thread on the carpet but she heard a quiet but definite, “Yes.”

  “Do you want me to ask Julie for her phone number?”

  Again Kishore mumbled a quiet but clear, “Yes.”

  After accomplishing the first part of her mission Linda decided to take charge and do the right thing.

  “Okay, Kishore I’ll be the matchmaker if you like,” she chuckled, “Don’t worry, I’ll talk to Julie.”

  Linda returned to the lunchroom, where I was still sitting like a dazed possum, staring at the flower. She pulled out a chair opposite me and sat down.

  “So?”

  “So what?” I replied.

  “So, what do you think?”

  “What do I think about what?”

  “Juuuuuulie!” Linda knew full well I was deliberately stalling. “Kishore, Julie, what do you think of Kishore? Do you like him, would you go out with him?”

  Linda was right, I was trying to gain some time to analyse the situation. My first thought, in the few minutes since Linda had left was ‘Who on earth does this guy think he is? Giving me a flower, me!’ Then, ‘Well, it was kind of a nice gesture, no guy has ever given me a flower before.’ I twirled the pink carnation between my fingers and glanced at the flowers in the vase on the lunch table. A light bulb came on in my head, did this guy just make a romantic gesture by giving a girl a flower straight from a cafeteria lunch table? It was so cheeky that I could not help but smile.

  I put the flower to my nose and breathed in its fragrance as I thought to myself - an Indian, this guy is Indian! If the giving of this flower leads to a date, would I actually consider going out with an Indian man?

  What would my parents think? It just wasn’t done, was it? It was practically unheard of, a person of one race having a relationship with a person from another race, was I bold enough to be that person? Could I be capable of going against what was deemed right and proper? But then who were they to deem what was right and proper? As I sat there in confusion, these thoughts jumbled and tumbled around in my head like a washing machine set on ‘spin.'

  I knew without a doubt from an inkling growing inside me, while looking at that flower, that my answer to Linda would not be ‘no.’ As Linda stared at me waiting for a reply, I knew I could do it, it felt, well, right. I was going to take the plunge. I turned to her and with my heart racing, tried to speak but all that came out of my mouth was, “Ummm.”

  “Go on,” she said. “Really Julie, what have you got to lose?”

  True, what did I have to lose? Knowing I was taking a big step, I tore a piece of paper from my notepad and wrote down my home phone number and gave it to Linda. With a huge smile of achievement on her face Linda trotted back to Kishore’s office and handed him the piece of paper.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The Hindi word for girl is lardakee.

  Kishore had been in the photocopying/faxing room and was heading back down the hall to his office when he caught sight of Julie and Linda on their way towards the lunchroom.

  Was this his chance?

  He decided he’d spent more than enough time thinking about her and trying to pluck up the courage to talk to her and he couldn’t think of any more lame excuses as to why he should join Julie and Gillian in the boardroom.

  Every time Julie walked past him, smelling undeniably of vanilla musk, he’d been stuck for something to say, which he felt made him look silly in her eyes. If he did find the words they were only silly, blabbering outpourings.

  If something wasn’t done soon then his chance would slip by. Today was the day and this was the time, he was sure of it.

  He knew what he felt called for desperate measures but what?

  With his empty mug in his hand, at least it would look like he had a motive, he convinced himself to go to the lunchroom. It was just his luck Linda was coming out. It was now or never, he could feel it in his bones, he couldn’t lose his courage and talk himself out of it again.

  Julie looked so sweet sitting at the lunch table with her head bent over her work, her hair shimmering, like flames dancing in a fire. As she glanced up and smiled at him, it gave him the courage to go on. Kishore felt his heart beating rapidly in his chest as he stealthily picked up one of the carnations from the vase on the table. Feeling sick with nerves, he gave the flower a quick flick to shake it free of any water, thrust it towards her and managed a smile.

  Just as Julie raised her head, saw the flower and took it from him, Linda came back into the lunchroom. Kishore, like a stunned deer, retreated as fast as he could,
half running down the hall, he just arrived at his office door when Linda caught up with him. He was glad she did. If it were left up to him, well, he would probably still be trying to pluck up the courage to talk to Julie. Linda, acting like the boss she was, drilled Kishore as to why he gave Julie the flower. He could only manage to answer a tiny ‘yes’ in answer to Linda’s questions but in his head it was a different situation, the reply he was desperate to shout was, “YES! THIS COULD BE MY ONLY CHANCE, PLEASE GO NOW AND GET HER PHONE NUMBER, HURRY!”

  He believed, as a man, if a girl gives you her phone number it constituted as a ‘yes’ - yes she would go out with you. She wouldn’t give her number to just anyone, would she?

  As Kishore entered his office to wait for Linda’s return, he felt pretty wound up and his heart was beating far too fast. He couldn’t sit so he paced backwards and forwards, taking his handkerchief from his pocket, he wiped his sticky palms and forehead, the anticipation was far too great. After an extremely long ten minutes, Linda finally came back with a triumphant smile on her face - she was clutching a slip of paper in her hand.

  As Kishore took it from her, he felt so happy, it was as if he had just been handed the Nobel peace prize, He wanted to jump up and down with joy but he managed to control himself long enough to thank Linda once or twice or ten times over. As he opened the paper and peered down at Julie’s phone number written in her loopy handwriting, he knew a whole new chapter in his life was about to start.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The Hindi word for laugh is hasi.

  It was already dark outside that evening when my home phone rang just as I sat down to relax after a long day.