The Last Taboo

by Bali Rai

  ‘And spoil the view?’ she replied with a big smile. ‘Now why would I want to do that?’

  I grinned and left.

  SIMRAN

  THE DOOR SLAMMED shut downstairs, making me jump. It was the following Sunday and I was doing some maths revision, trying to get a head start for my exams, which were only a few months away. I heard my mum shout something at Jay and knew they were back from the gurudwara. They’d been to a blessing –organized by my mum’s best friend. I put my pen down and decided to make myself some tea and find out how it went. My parents would have seen some of my dad’s family at the temple and I wanted to make sure that they hadn’t said anything else to my dad. Fat chance.

  My little brother was already playing on his console by the time I got to the kitchen. He smiled at me when I walked in. My parents weren’t in a good mood.

  ‘What’s up?’ I asked my dad.

  He was standing by the fridge, drinking from a can of Coke. ‘Oh – nothing much,’ he said, with an edge in his voice.

  ‘Sounds like it,’ I replied as I walked over to the kettle, picked it up and filled it with water at the sink.

  ‘We saw your uncle Malkit,’ my mum told me. She was leaning against the worktop and she looked angry.

  ‘What have they said now?’ I asked.

  ‘You don’t want to know,’ my dad told me. ‘It’s our problem.’

  I hate it when people say things like that. Of course I’m going to want to know. I switched the kettle on and went and stood next to my mum.

  ‘Was it about me?’ I asked.

  ‘You, me, the people at the gurudwara – every bloody Punjabi from here to sodding Amritsar – that’s who it was about …’ my dad replied.

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘Oh, it was the usual stuff about family honour and how many people think badly of us,’ explained my mum.

  ‘Apparently my eldest brother is now the laughing stock at the temple. He’s even been asked to resign as treasurer. And on top of that, people are talking about him – apparently,’ added my dad.

  ‘Oh,’ I said, because I didn’t know what else to say.

  My dad emptied his can and went into the living room. I looked at my mum, who shrugged and told me to leave him alone for a while.

  ‘He’s in a really bad mood,’ she told me. ‘Your uncle really did a job on him.’

  ‘But he knew they’d be like that,’ I said.

  ‘Not that bad. Your uncle went for it – talking ’bout your grandad, the family, the job offer …’

  ‘What, the sandwich shop thing?’ I asked.

  My mum nodded.

  ‘That’s not fair …’

  ‘That’s not all, either. Apparently your grandad is so upset he’s stopped eating.’

  I gulped down air. I hadn’t seen him for a while but I loved my grandad. And what my mum was telling me didn’t sound like him at all.

  ‘I don’t believe it,’ I said. ‘He wouldn’t – he’s not like them.’

  ‘That’s what your dad said but your uncle insisted.’

  ‘I don’t care what he said,’ I told her. ‘It’s not true. I’m going to ring him—’

  ‘You can’t … Until you stop seeing Tyrone we can’t go round or speak to them or anything.’

  I glared at my mum, mistakenly thinking that she was telling me to dump my boyfriend. But it wasn’t that at all and she took no time to tell me so.

  ‘Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t say that you should stop seeing him. That’s what your uncle said.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I said, feeling stupid for jumping the gun.

  ‘Not half as sorry as your father,’ she replied.

  ‘Is he going to side with them now?’ I asked.

  ‘It’ll be a first if he does,’ she told me. ‘I think he’s just trying to get his head round it, that’s all.’

  ‘So you two have talked about it then?’

  She nodded. ‘In the car on the way home.’

  ‘And …?’

  She shrugged. ‘You’ll have to ask your dad that – when he’s in a better mood …’

  I swallowed hard. ‘He’s going to tell me to dump Tyrone, isn’t he?’ I said.

  ‘I didn’t say that – but you know how much his father means to him. After everything that happened when we got married … It’s something that he’s going to have to give a lot of thought—’

  ‘But he did!’ I complained. ‘He said it was OK. He told me so.’

  ‘He hadn’t been threatened with losing a good job offer then,’ she said without any hint of drama.

  ‘I don’t believe this!’ I snapped, storming off up to my room without my tea.

  My dad came up to my room around five p.m. that evening and knocked gently on the door. He called out my name a few times until I eventually told him he could come in. When he walked in he smiled at me but it wasn’t a normal, happy smile. There was a hint of sadness behind it. Like he was accepting something bad. That just made me feel even more anxious. He came and sat by me on my bed, and asked me if I was OK. I shook my head.

  ‘Not if you’re going to tell me to dump Tyrone,’ I told him.

  He smiled his sad smile again. ‘That’s not what I’m asking,’ he replied.

  I gave him a quizzing look. ‘But you are asking something …’

  He nodded.

  ‘And what’s that?’

  ‘I dunno,’ he admitted. ‘I mean, I really don’t mind that Tyrone is black – honestly. How could I? It’s just that …’

  ‘You’re gonna end up saying what everyone else has,’ I butted in. ‘Ruby was all “It’s just that …” That’s the bit where you tell me that we’re not the same, Asians and blacks, and start excusing your own racism—’

  ‘No – you’ve misunderstood what I was going to say,’ he insisted. ‘I don’t think that there’s some kind of huge barrier between black people and Asians – I just want to know if you think you’re doing the right thing …’

  I sat up in my bed, angry. ‘Right by who?’ I asked.

  ‘By you,’ he replied, catching me off-guard.

  ‘I really like Tyrone,’ I told him, ‘more than anyone I’ve ever met, and I want to be with him. He’s clever and he’s funny and he always looks after me. Every time he smiles I feel all warm and happy …’

  My dad nodded along as I spoke.

  ‘So you tell me,’ I continued. ‘Am I doing right by me?’

  ‘Seems that way,’ he admitted.

  ‘So what the hell are you talking about?’ I asked. ‘I thought I was the teenager here …’

  That brought out a half-smile, no more, from my dad.

  ‘I guess you’re right,’ he said. ‘I’m not making this very clear, am I?’

  I sighed. ‘Making what clear?’ I asked.

  ‘Are you sure you’re going to be with him for a while?’ he replied.

  ‘How am I supposed to answer that, Dad?’

  ‘I just don’t want us to go through all this and then you end up with another crush on someone else—’

  ‘It’s not a crush,’ I said through gritted teeth.

  ‘But do you see what I mean?’ he asked. ‘Is it a long-term thing or some teenage bit of fun?’

  ‘I haven’t got a crystal ball,’ I told him. ‘How can I know what’ll happen next week or next month? All I’m saying is that I like him and I’m going out with him and that’s it.’

  ‘It’s just that there’s a lot to consider – all the tension and the stress,’ he pointed out.

  ‘Just like you and Mum had when you were younger,’ I said.

  ‘Maybe,’ he replied.

  ‘Maybe nothing. It’s one rule for you and Mum and another for me—’

  ‘You aren’t about to marry him,’ said my dad.

  ‘That’s not the point. I want to be with him. He’s my boyfriend and I’m not dropping him just because your family are giving you shit about it.’

  My dad looked away. ‘T
hey aren’t going to help me out with that shop either,’ he said.

  I should have stayed calm and tried to think about things from his point of view. I should have tried to empathize. But I couldn’t – not at the time. I was too angry. I really thought that he was trying to put doubts in my head about Tyrone, trying to turn me off him, and I resented it. My reaction was bad too.

  ‘I couldn’t give a shit about your bloody shop!’ I screamed, jumping off my bed.

  ‘Simran – I was only—’ he began but I didn’t give him a chance.

  ‘No! Would we even be having this conversation if my boyfriend was Asian?’

  ‘Simmy …’

  I grabbed my jacket and my phone and turned to him. ‘You’re racist – just like your brothers. You just can’t accept it, that’s all,’ I said, quietly but harshly. Then I ran downstairs and out of the door, not sure where I was going.

  I wound up on Evington Road and walked into a fried chicken shop to get myself a drink. As soon as I walked through the door though, I wished that I hadn’t. A couple of black girls from school were in there and they both gave me dirty looks. I tried to ignore them but the taller of the two, Misha, bumped into me as I passed her.

  ‘Ain’t there enough Paki boys at school?’ she sneered, right in my face.

  I wanted to get out but I couldn’t, so I decided to put on a brave face, maybe because I was still so angry after talking to my dad. Whatever the reason – it was a bad move.

  ‘You what?’ I asked, stepping back.

  ‘Why you gotta t’ief the black men too?’ she continued. ‘The whole school is nearly full up of your kind anyhow …’

  ‘Ain’t none of your business,’ I told her.

  ‘Black men ain’t your business either,’ she said, grabbing me around the throat.

  I turned my eyes to the counter but the assistants were all in the back. I could hear them talking and laughing but I couldn’t see them. Which meant that they couldn’t see me either. I tried to struggle free but the other girl, Maya, grabbed me too.

  ‘You best stick to your own kind, you coolie bitch!’ Misha spat.

  I could feel my heart thumping as I waited to get beaten up, but it didn’t happen. Instead I heard Paula’s voice, telling the girls to leave me alone. They let go of me, and as I looked up I saw Paula slap Misha hard on the face.

  ‘Now you better leave before I get really angry,’ Paula told them.

  ‘What’s it gotta do wit’ you?’ asked Maya.

  ‘That’s my sister right there. And her boyfriend is my cousin …’

  ‘She ain’t your sister,’ sneered Misha.

  Paula shook her head. ‘More than you, she is,’ she told them.

  The two girls thought about it for a moment but then they left anyway. Paula turned to me and asked me if I was OK. I shook my head and started to cry.

  DAVID

  DEAN TOLD ME that we should avoid the community centre for a while, as we sat in my bedroom, just hanging out. My parents were still pissed off after their visit to the gurudwara earlier in the day and I wanted to go out for a while. But Dean wasn’t having it.

  ‘Them man are all over that place,’ he told me, talking about the Desi Posse.

  ‘So?’ I asked.

  ‘So why go and step into the vipers’ nest, bro?’

  I shook my head. ‘That place was ours before they got there – why should we take a back seat to them?’ I asked.

  ‘Fair enough.’ Dean shrugged. ‘But if we’re goin’ down there you best be ready for the consequences.’

  ‘You sound like a teacher,’ I told him. ‘I ain’t running scared of no man.’

  Dean grinned. ‘So let’s go then – besides, there’s this girl I wanna chat to – told me she’d be there, you get me?’

  I shook my head again. ‘All you ever do is think wit’ yer balls …’

  ‘Is there any other way?’ he asked, jumping up.

  The Desi Posse were hanging around the entrance to the old warehouse that housed the community centre and the youth club. It was called the Asian Youth Association but non-Asian people weren’t excluded from going there. The guys that ran the centre were thinking of changing the name to make it more ‘inclusive’, as they put it, but some of the Asian lads, especially the DP, thought it belonged just to them. That was the vibe I got as me and Dean walked up.

  I saw Pally in the group of five lads and ignored him. I didn’t want to get into anything, and besides, the lads were all younger than me and Dean so I didn’t think there’d be any trouble. Dean headed up the stairs to the main part of the centre, where he said a couple of girls he knew were waiting.

  He grinned at me. ‘’Bout time we got you a gal anyway.’

  I walked in behind him and saw a few more lads at the pool table, all Asian. Dean went over to the girls and started to talk to them. I stood where I was and watched the door and then the lads at the pool table. They were looking in my direction but not looking me in the eye. Something didn’t feel right and I decided to go back to the door and see what the lads at the bottom of the stairs were doing. When I looked down the metal stairs I saw Pally on his mobile phone to someone. My head told me not to be paranoid but I was anyway. I had a feeling he was calling for back-up.

  I walked over to Dean to tell him what was on my mind, but as soon as I reached him he introduced me to a girl called Kelly. I had to gulp down air when I saw her, she was so fine, and then struggled to say anything. My eyes fixed on her face, which was dark skinned, like her family might be from Sri Lanka or somewhere in southern India. She had the most amazing lips and her eyes kind of shone. It was like someone had smacked me in the mouth with something.

  ‘Hi!’ she said with a smile. ‘So, are you Dean’s mate?’

  ‘Er … yeah,’ I said, taking a crafty look at her tits. My head went light.

  ‘More like my brother,’ added Dean.

  ‘He’s better looking than you,’ Kelly told him.

  ‘Nah! An’ I just introduced you to him,’ replied Dean, pretending to be hurt by her words.

  ‘So do you, like … go out an’ that?’ she asked me.

  ‘I suppose so,’ I replied, looking at her white shirt and then down to her jeans. Her toenails were painted light green. ‘Out where exactly?’

  ‘Bars and clubs and stuff …?’ she said.

  ‘Now an’ then – why?’

  She smiled. ‘Next time you go, you could take me,’ she told me, all brazen.

  ‘Er …’

  She got out her mobile and passed it to me. ‘Put your number in,’ she insisted. ‘That way I can call you, can’t I?’

  I put the number in and then remembered Pally and his mates. I looked around to see what was going on. Nothing had changed but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t.

  ‘He could be busy though,’ Dean told Kelly.

  ‘Oh yeah?’

  ‘Yeah – my bro is what you might call popular, you get me? He might be out with another one of his girls …’

  Kelly looked me up and down and then shook her head. ‘He don’t look like he’s the type. He looks decent,’ she told Dean.

  As Dean started banging on about something else, Pally walked through the door with two other lads. They were older than the ones he’d been standing with and one of them was huge. I turned to Dean.

  ‘We got beef,’ I told him.

  ‘Huh?’

  I nodded towards the door.

  ‘Shit!’

  Dean told Kelly and the other girl to step back and then he walked over to the pool table, shoved a lad out of his way and grabbed the pool cue. One of the youth workers, the wrong one when it came to stopping fights because he was so skinny, stepped out of a side office and saw what was happening. He strode over to Pally and the two lads and told them to leave as Dean walked back to my side. The huge lad, who was wearing a turban, smacked the youth worker, who went down like a plane without wings. Then he turned and looked at me. Pally stepped up.

 
‘You got anyt’ing you waan say now?’ he asked.

  ‘Depends,’ I told him, all the time keeping an eye on Mr Turban.

  ‘Think you’re a bad man – well, let’s see …’ spat Pally.

  Mr Turban stepped towards me, looking all mean, and I took one step to the side. He was going to throw a punch and I was ready. When he did, it was obvious and slow, so I ducked it and brought my left fist up under his chin. He wobbled a bit but stayed up. Not for long though. Pally’s face dropped as Dean smashed the cue against Mr Turban’s head a few times and he hit the ground, out cold. I saw him drop and turned to Pally, charging at him. We fell towards the door, just as Raji Mann was coming through it. I felt a punch on the back of my head as I fell. I hit the ground, span to one side and jumped to my feet, turning to see Dean and Raji trading punches. They’d hated each other since we were all in primary school and Dean was getting the better of Raji.

  Then I felt a sharp pain in my side. Pally had grabbed the cue and stabbed at me with it. He swung it at my head. I put up my arm and heard a loud crack. Thinking it was my arm, I pulled back, quickly realizing that it was the cue that had snapped. Pally stepped in and threw a couple of punches and that’s when I really went mad, punching the left side of his head and face over and over, until my hand seemed like a blur. When I stopped, Pally’s face was already puffing up and his eyelid was cut. He was crying.

  Someone else grabbed me from behind, a strong grip that I couldn’t shake off. When I turned my head I realized it was two more of the men that ran the place, only these two, Gary and Patrick, were rough. I relaxed as soon as I saw that Patrick had me, and even when he threw me to the ground, I didn’t complain. I didn’t have a death wish. Instead I looked towards Dean and Raji, who were being held at arm’s length by Gary. Raji looked at me.

  ‘Keep hidin’ behind these kaleh!’ he spat at me.

  ‘Yeah?’ I shouted back, standing up.

  Patrick stepped towards me, a warning in his eyes, and I held up my hands in surrender.

  ‘Every Desi is gonna know about this,’ continued Raji. ‘Every taxi driver an’ shop owner and bad bwoi …!’