Read Online Julie & Kishore by Carol Jackson - Free Book Online Page A

said my hellos to each person and instantly
felt out of place. All I wanted to do was leave. How was I going to get out of
here? I glanced around, possibly looking for someone to rescue me. An Indian
guy was at the bar drinking a beer , did I
know him from somewhere?
    With
Lance practically ignoring me, I sat for a long tedious hour, eventually making
an excuse to go. There is nothing wrong with people enjoying a good time but
when they become drunk around me and behave stupidly, I’d rather not be there.
Needless to say I never saw Lance on a social basis again.

 
    In
comparison, as time progressed with Kishore and me, we enjoyed seeing alot more
of each other, things were going well and it wasn’t long before we were seen as
a couple.
    When
he was at work, Linda’s attitude towards Kishore changed. His smile told her
all was well in his life. As the weeks flew by and our love blossomed, we both
wore that in love , aura that radiated
from us like the warmth from the sun on a crisp autumn day.
    Linda
was all smiles, she knew she had created this happiness between us and as time
went by she saw Kishore transform into someone completely different, from a shy
Indian boy into a happy, self-assured young man.

 
    I
remember a particular episode of the iconic New Zealand TV programme Country Calendar . A proud dairy farmersat on his horse at the highest point
of a ridge. He had taken a moment out of his busy day to survey his vast land -
his trusty black and white sheep dog sat faithfully at his side. The farmer was
watching his cattle grazing in the paddocks below, his face holding a huge
smile of satisfaction. He was proud of his five thousand acre farm on the
Canterbury Plains in the South Island. The land he knew like the back of his
hand was his achievement and he was content.
    This
is the same satisfied look I now saw on Linda.
    She
had taken me under her wing and her stern warning to Kishore was that he had
better treat me nicely or else he would have her to answer
to.

 
    Most
of the time we spent together was at parks or chatting in one another ’ s cars , neither of us
feeling we could have the privacy to express our emotions at each others
houses.
    It
was as if a part of the puzzle in my life had been found. I ignored the doubts
my friends put into my head, “An Indian! You’ r e
going out with an Indian?”
    Or
I was told, “Be careful Julie, he might be hiding from you a wife and children
back in India.”   
    Conversation
flowed freely between us and I learnt Kishore was a complete romantic. I didn’t
care what my friends said as my heart melted in the heat of Kishore’s flowing
compliments. There was no doubt in our minds we were a couple - in fact, it
felt like we had known each other all our lives.

 
    We
talked and talked and never ran out of things to discuss. We discovered the
differences in our childhood were like chalk and cheese. Growing up, I wore
jeans and t-shirts, the women in Kishore’s life wore saris.
    I
ate bread, cereals, meat and vegetables, Kishore ate dahl, subji (cooked
vegetables) and rotis (or chapatti -
round flat bread) .
    Although
we did find some similarities - childhood games that were universal regardless
of race or culture: hopscotch, hide and seek and marbles. Little girls from
both countries used their Mother’s old stockings to stretch and jump over while
singing counting games, while boys played soccer or catch. We both enjoyed
learning to ride a two wheeler bike and ran and played in the street with the
other neighbourhood kids.

 
    It
was a terrible day, rain was pouring but regardless we had decided to go for a
drive. Kishore carefully negotiated the winding roads as he guided his car
through the pelting rain, we eventually arrived at Piha, a wild west coast
Auckland beach, famous for its black sand and big waves which are popular for
surfing. After parking we both clambered into the back seat. Enclosed in the tomb
of his car, we snuggled as close as we