Julie & Kishore

by Jackson, Carol

  I rushed to pick it up instinctively knowing it would be Kishore.

  “Hello,” I answered apprehensively.

  “Hello Julie,” he shyly replied.

  Surprisingly, after our initial hesitation and nervous start the conversation flowed. We agreed he would pick me up at one o’clock the coming Saturday afternoon. Although to me, so far, Kishore’s accent was strong it wasn’t a barrier, just a small obstacle. After all, he had been in New Zealand now for more than two years and had become accustomed to the Kiwi accent. He was surrounded by it all day every day at work, in the street, wherever he went in his daily life.

  I supposed it was up to me to get used to his accent.

  Saturday arrived with loaded anticipation. I tried on practically every piece of clothing I owned. Mum popped her head around the doorway of my bedroom, seeing the huge mound of clothes piled on the floor and my perplexity she said, “Julie, don’t think of this as a date, imagine you’re just meeting up with a friend.” This worked for me as the word ‘date’ was pretty daunting. Telling myself I was merely meeting up with a friend calmed my nerves considerably.

  I finally made my decision. I studied my reflection in the mirror as I turned my head from side to side to see every angle,‘Not bad' I thought, ‘Stylish yet casual.’ My image stared right back at me. I was dressed in a pair of black pants and a creamy white top. As an afterthought I tied a khaki-green scarf loosely around my neck. I had read somewhere that red heads look great in green.

  Kishore’s blue Escort pulled up outside promptly on the dot of one o’clock.

  In India people are more relaxed about time, it wasn’t a big deal to be half an hour late for an appointment. Maybe it was because of the population and traffic, it was unrealistic to have any expectation you would arrive on time. It could also be that people were more laid back and not so hung up on punctuality. Kishore quickly learnt in his new country if you made an appointment at a certain time, you had to be there at that time, on the dot. He realised in New Zealand, everyone is always looking at the clock and life is a continuous hustle, bustle and battle against time. If you were going to be late it was good manners to ring and apologise.

  In India it was not uncommon to sit and chat late into the night but he had noticed in New Zealand, everyone seemed to be asleep by ten o’clock.

  I met Kishore outside in his car, I climbed in and as the car pulled away from the curb, I peered back at my house. I could see the outline of Mum’s shadow as she stood on the other side of the net curtain at the lounge room window. I felt her maternal gaze as we drove away.

  The chit chat soon flowed smoothly between us with no awkward silences.

  “So, tell me, Julie, how did you know?” Kishore cheekily asked.

  “How did I know what?”

  “How did you know that the beautiful khaki-green scarf you are wearing is my absolute favourite colour?”

  This brought a flush to my cheeks and I smiled. I turned my head and glanced out of the window, I liked the way he said my name, with accentuation on the ‘le,’ - ‘Ju-LEE,' it was kinda cute.

  Kishore drove us to One Tree Hill, a well-known park. As we entered the gates he found a parking spot and we decided to stay seated in the privacy of his car so we could talk and get to know each other. It was a warm afternoon, the sun was shining and as I gazed through the windscreen I noticed there were a lot of people about enjoying the park. Kishore started by telling me if at any time I didn’t understand his accent, I was to say repeat. So far I had experienced no trouble at all understanding him but I agreed to do this. As we chatted, after every single sentence he said, I asked him to repeat. At first, he did this but when he caught the cheeky grin on my face he soon learnt I was teasing him. This was his first taste of my mischievous sense of humour.

  I allowed myself to relax. A toddler, seemingly taking her first few wobbly steps, to the delight of her parents caught my eye. I smiled a little at the child and what was happening between Kishore and myself. So far we were getting on well. As I continued looking I saw other people enjoying the sun as they walked through the park or were playing with their children or dogs. Kishore was saying something, I turned my head to listen, he was voicing his thoughts on dating.

  His eyes instantly met mine, he looked directly into them, “I don’t believe in relationships where people play games. If this works between us then I am willing to commit to you one hundred percent.” He swivelled his head to look out of the window for a few seconds, then turned back to me as he continued, “Julie, if we are going to make a go of this then I would like to marry you and be devoted to you only.”

  The look of shock on my face did not stop him talking, “I don’t consider having a girlfriend, just to have a girlfriend, if you understand what I am saying. If you are the one Julie, then that is that, it will be us together for life.”

  Whoa! I was absolutely taken aback. Did this guy just propose? Hey, I thought I only just met you. I was certainly not thinking about marriage, it was the last thing on my mind. But as I tried to think rationally I realised he was only trying to be straight forward and honest with me, making his intentions clear. He needed to be sure I knew how he felt but he didn’t understand he was coming across way too strong. This was our first date, for goodness sake, basically our first face-to-face conversation. I would have to take care not to let this guy’s straight forward attitude scare me off.

  “Well….ummm, I think we better just see how things go between us,” I managed to reply.

  When I arrived home Mum asked me how it went.

  “You know Mum,” I answered, “I think he asked me to marry him!”

  Mum raised her eyebrows and her voice, “Marriage Julie? But you’ve only just met him.” She then lowered her tone and added a bit more calmly, “Julie, just wait and see, give it time.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The Hindi word for house is ghar.

  Kishore grew up with the tradition of arranged marriages. Over ninety percent are arranged in the modern way, it’s widely accepted.

  Thankfully, for Kishore’s sake, his parents recognised their son was an independent soul, he was different – a leader not a follower. He wanted his own life, his own wife.

  He imagined if he had stayed in India, what would have happened if he had admitted defeat, how his marital plans would have panned out. How delighted his Mum and Dad would have been if they were given the go ahead to find a bride for him. To be given the ‘yes’ they were hoping for from their eldest son in order to start making plans to find a wife. His Mother and Father would take the steps to begin the marital process.

  They would start the arrangements in the traditional way and would not be able to successfully hide their satisfaction. Once Kishore had given them the go ahead there would be no turning back. But these days to have an arranged marriage the boy and girl are part of the whole process (a girl and boy in India are called this until they get married regardless of age), where the bride and groom are involved every step of the way from getting engaged to the subsequent wedding.

  His parents did not have a modern arranged marriage - it had been traditional in every sense of the word. They met each other only on their wedding day. Kishore’s grandparents would have organised the whole process. His cultural beliefs meant Kishore and his siblings had been brought up with the intention of following this tradition but in a more contemporary way.

  He always wondered in a traditional arranged marriage what the couple did once the wedding ceremony was over, when the guests had gone and they were alone. Did the two strangers who were now husband and wife, look at each other and say, “How do you do?”

  As Mr and Mrs they’d go through the process of getting to know each other, discovering each other’s good and bad habits. They would become friends first and love would follow. Kishore had experienced many of these weddings, some in real life but these days mostly in the movies. It was part of the bride’s role to look bashful and modest on her wedding day, whic
h was probably not hard for her to do since she did not know her husband to be. She would be extremely frightened. In fact most of the time the bride looked miserable and invariably cried. She cried while she was getting dressed in her bridal sari, sobbed softly when taking her wedding vows and wailed loudly when it was time to leave her family. Kishore didn’t like to see women cry - he didn’t want this for his wife on his wedding day. He remembered hearing snippets of conversations from relatives and older women talking of how love comes after marriage. They said young people expected too much too soon, especially nowadays. Their traditionally held belief was marriage comes first then love followed.

  Kishore was all too aware of the procedure that would have taken place if he had made the decision, if he had said, ‘yes’ to his parents to carry on with his marriage plans. First of all they would become most excited and begin preparations straight away. In any culture a child’s wedding is a special event, especially the first and eldest son of the family. His Mother and Father would eagerly spread the word around the local neighbourhood asking if anyone knew of a suitable girl for their son. If no one stepped forward with a possible match then it was time to advertise. They would compile an advertisement which would contain Kishore’s religion, height and qualifications. It would be printed in the bride or groom wanted section of the newspaper and appear alongside hundreds of other ad's, looking something like this:

  Hindu parents looking for a suitable match for their well-educated son. 24 years old, 5’7” wheatish complexion. B-com, working in an accounting firm. Good family and strong cultural values. Serious enquiries only, (early marriage requested).

  Please reply with recent photo to.…

  Over the next few weeks hundreds of letters would arrive by post from the parents of prospective brides. Traditionally caste was a significant part of the bride selection. A person from a higher caste may want to but in fact should not marry a person from a lower caste. Knowing the caste from the surname is an important part of the match, a honourable family with standing in the community is most important.

  Her parents would write a letter of introduction, giving a detailed description of their daughter and highlight her best attributes. Kishore with his Mum and Dad would eagerly read each and every letter and scrutinise her photo, which would also be enclosed. Her image would be captured at just the right angle, to show her at her prettiest - perhaps she would be called Manisi or Divya. Kishore would secretly hope while studying each photo that he would find a girl that resembled his favourite Indian actress Padmini Kolhapure.

  Once they had all agreed a short list would be decided on.

  Meetings would then be arranged with each girl on the list, usually a morning or afternoon tea at the parents house of the prospective girl. She, looking like a delicate flower would hide in the kitchen - she was not to make her grand entrance until everyone was seated in the living room. When her Mother secretly signaled her she was to carry in the tea tray. This was her moment, her only chance to make a good first impression. She would try while smiling sweetly at everyone and setting down the tray, to sneak a sidelong glance at the boy before scuttling back to the kitchen to giggle with her sisters. While the families talked, when the opportunity arose the boy and girl would go outside for a little walk or perhaps to another room for a chat.

  This process would continue with each girl on the list and after meeting each one, Kishore’s parents would look at him eagerly hoping their son would say that this girl is ‘the one.' The one to spark some interest inside him, the one he had found a connection or charisma with. Of course the girl would have to feel the same way.

  Once mutual attraction was evident he would be permitted to go out on a few dates with her, permissible only with a chaperone present – an Aunt, Grandma or younger brother or sister. If, at this stage, Kishore and the girl decided they were right for each other an astrologer would be consulted. Each of them would give him their place, time and date of birth and the man would consult his charts to see if the couple were compatible for a long and happy life together. If the charts were not advantageous, that would be the end of the relationship. Alternatively, either side could back out at any time. But no matter what was decided there would be no forced marriage.

  Once the couple were given the go ahead by the astrologer an engagement or ring ceremony takes place. The bride and groom, in front of family and friends exchange rings and officially announce their plans to marry, an extravagant party would follow. This would be the first time the couple meet with extended family and friends so the bride-to-be and groom-to-be dress to impress.

  Kishore knew from the many weddings he had attended that wedding arrangements are an extremely extravagant affair. However, planning cannot take place until the astrologer is once again called to consult his charts and pick an auspicious date for the wedding to take place. If this date is not agreeable then the couple will have to wait until the next favourable date which could be months or even years away.

  If money is no object the wedding would be a magnificent affair as with western nuptials. In India, thousands of people can attend a wedding, with the ceremony and partying lasting days, sometimes a week, the more OTT, ‘over the top’ the better. Love marriages do happen but they’re few and far between, although as time goes by love marriages become more popular.

  Kishore knew he didn’t want an arranged wedding for himself. He was a complete romantic at heart. He wanted love, the kind of love that makes your heart skip a beat, the kind of love he had seen in movies. The hand on heart kind of love when a man and woman look deep into each other’s eyes and know they’re meant to be together.

  Kishore also knew he wouldn’t find that kind of devotion in an arranged marriage. He wanted to meet a woman and fall in love the western way. He wanted a woman who would love him for himself.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The Hindi word for boy is lardakaa.

  After that first date things seemed to blossom quickly for us. I felt comfortable in Kishore’s company - there was a connection between us that I couldn’t explain. I genuinely liked him as a person, which was a plus, he was intelligent, generous and kind.

  I knew there were many differences between the Indian culture and my own. Being raised in traditional English ways this included the ways of finding a husband. A seemingly hit and miss situation that involved seeing a lot of boys in order to find a compatible partner. A judgement of a possible relationship totally left up to fate, which unfortunately often ended in one night stands or messy break-ups.

  Before marrying Brett, Sarah had various boyfriends and although each boy was different, the relationships ended in the same way.

  Without a word Sarah quietly put down the phone and ran to her room. Soon, the husky voice of Rod Stewart drifted out from under her bedroom door, ‘I don’t wanna talk about it, how you broke my heart…'

  It was the same everytime Sarah broke up with a boyfriend, she would drown her sorrows in Rod Stewart’s crooning voice. Crying for days, only occasionally emerging from her room, her eyes puffy and red. Her pain and heartache soon changed to anger, “Who cares, who needs him anyway,” she defiantly exclaimed as she entered the final stage of boyfriend breakups - ‘Moving on.’

  Knowing this kind of sorrow could also lay ahead for me, I knew I didn’t want to follow in Sarah’s footsteps - I wanted a relationship that would last. I didn’t want to have to go through her despondency, besides, I didn’t even like Rod Stewart!

  As I watched Sarah, I thought it might be easier for me to pack it all in and become a nun - like Maria in The Sound of Music but then again what good did it do her? She fell in love with her employer and became a Step-Mum to seven children!

  Western people went through this scenario many times sometimes never finding that Mr or Miss right. Often, the only chance of finding a partner was through friends or while out socialising, where strangers meet and try to find a mutual interest in each other that would sometimes result in a second or third date. C
ouples looking to become an ‘item’ or looking for love to last will eventually though not always get married. Living together is sometimes preferred as they do not wish to be bound by a piece of paper.

  It’s the couple that decides on their life together, no one else, their hearts rule, not their sensible heads.

  Of course I had been on a few dates with boys before but this time it was different. After spending time with Kishore, I knew it felt right and as the weeks went by we were sure we had found the missing piece in each other’s life.

  Not long after I started working at O.S.W. I went on a date with Lance. He drove one of the company van’s delivering the office supplies. He was a tall, lanky guy with a mullet haircut and a tattoo of an eagle on his arm. We had chatted a few times during work hours and had decided to meet at Brandy’s bar one Friday night after work. I was hesitant and a little anxious about the date, he was a nice guy during work hours but I had never seen him in a social setting before. But the best way of getting to know someone, or so I had been led to believe, was to go out for a drink. It soon became apparent that my anxiety was justified.

  Arriving at the bar on time I pushed open the door, a waft of cigarette smoke instantly entered my nose. Pulling a face like I had just sucked on a lemon I realised I could also taste it in my mouth. ‘Don’t dream it's over’ a new song by the band Crowded House, softly played on an unseen stereo. My attention was diverted towards a table in the corner, where the sound of glasses clinking and especially loud laughter could easily be heard above the rhythmic melody of the song. I could see the table was jam-packed with a group of people who were not just having fun but were over-the-top rowdy and were generally acting like juveniles.