by Cécile Rischmann

Chennai in the 80s

The street of Jhan Jhan Khan Road was narrow, impeding traffic flow. The Gulab band and its decorative musicians were playing love songs from yesteryears, songs that she’d grown with, songs that held sweet memories, memories that brought her back after a decade to find out how he was doing. She still thought of him after all this time. It must be over ten years now.

She parked her BSA SLR cycle on the overcrowded platform along with several two-wheelers. How often she’d walked down this potholed road with her best friend Berna, and they’d be talking mostly about Gautam, whether he was going to meet Julie or not and how they were going to escape Julie’s strict parents. She could see Berna’s little brick house from where she stood. She wasn’t going to visit as yet; she first needed to breathe in the atmosphere, relive her past and say goodbye to those innocent times.

She needed to move on. Find someone to love. Someone like him.

Her glance shifted to the two-bedroom apartment where she used to live. It had doors opening to the balcony. Many a time, Julie would stand over there and wipe her hair. Gautam would somehow make sure he was in his portico doing some task or the other. Their eyes would meet, something would jerk inside Julie, and she’d run into the house. The owners had now leased the house to a Muslim family. They’d painted the exterior in green and pink. Julie shuddered.

The hole-in-the-wall sweet shop stood to the left, she and Berna would buy Goli-soda from there. “Goli” was a spherical object, a colloquial term in Hindi for a carbonated lemon or orange flavoured drink in a codd-neck bottle, popular in India. It was within their budget, and after a long tiring walk, they’d quench their thirst.

She could see Berna now descending the stairway. She’d gained weight since she’d last seen her. Her face had lost the glow of youth. Her shoulders were hunched like she was carrying the world on her back. She was wearing a traditional Indian costume with elaborate embroidery. She’d gotten her hair set, and it fell in natural waves over her shoulders. She had a curious expression on her face as she looked at the spectacular black horse with its groom. The front of the man’s face was covered with strips of Jasmine flowers which reached his neck. His family was gathered on the doorstep of their house, their happy smiles and chirpy conversation saying they were content to see him marry.

Together they watched the groom in his red and gold costume lead the wedding procession. Berna passed her by without the slightest recognition that it was her ex-neighbour-best friend, Julie, with whom she’d shared a loyal friendship. But that was way back in the 70s. She’d probably forgotten her…the way Gautam had.

Julie’s father had shifted the family out of this house on Jhan Jhan Khan Road, and they’d moved to another locality on Mount Road. He thought that distance would steer Julie clear of Gautam’s increasing attention. But Gautam had found her new habitation, despite them having changed her school, and had come to see her.

Julie was sixteen then. Gautam was twenty-three. He worked in a press owned by his grandfather and was one of the directors. Even in those years, he drove a black Ambassador car.

She remembered how excited she’d been to hear his voice. She’d moved the curtain aside so she could look at him. He seemed to tell her not to worry; he was going to take care of the hurdle right away, and they would be together forever.

He didn’t know her family. Okay, he did know her family; after all, they’d been neighbours for a while. His father and hers used to talk until their children fell in love. It was a cold war after that.

She’d first noticed Gautam driving behind her school bus one morning. He was parked outside the school gates in the evening and then followed her back home. Julie knew if her father learned of it, he’d put an end to the romance even before it started. And if she was honest, she liked being followed by such a good-looking man even if he was older by several years. He made her heart pound with a glance.

He never spoke to her though, nor she to him. However, when she’d wake up in the morning and come to the balcony to dry her hair, he’d be in his compound wiping his car. His tape recorder would be on full blast, and the song would be Julie, I love you from the 1970’s movie hit Julie.

Even at that early stage, she knew what would happen if her family discovered his interest. She decided to write him a letter and drop it off through Berna. I know that you have been following me. I think you like me. But if you play that song, my family will come to know and will not let me go anywhere after that. So please don’t play that song and don’t attract any attention. I like you too.

The next day, he’d stopped his car at the end of the street and waited for her. She quickened her steps, her heart beating fast at the thought that they were going to speak. A vendor pushed his open cart down the road. He was selling new aluminum vessels in exchange for old, and the number of stops he made said that he was in high demand. Women came out of their little apartments and tried to bargain with him to give them a bigger vessel or plate for their old rusty utensils.

Gautam opened the door for Julie, and she walked past it as if she didn’t notice. He shut the door and came after her. Her hands turned damp, and she wiped them on her smock. The pocket weighed a little as she was carrying gig nuts. Her mother had boiled and fried them with seasoning spices. She brought some with her so she and Berna would sit under the mango tree in school and munch during break time.

“So you like me?” he said.

Julie hastened her steps. What kind of question was this? Did he have to be so direct? She didn’t bother to answer, and a discreet sideward glance revealed that he was smiling. So he was teasing her, was he?

“I wasn’t playing Julie, you were.”

“You came to the balcony to see me.”

“Wrong, to dry my hair.”

“You could have done that on the terrace, why use the balcony just opposite my house?”

“Not to see you. You are not Vikram Makandar.”

“I hope not. I look better than him,” he said.

From the corner of her eyes, she noticed a movement from afar and panicked. Without a word, she started to run towards the bus stand. Fortunately, she saw her school bus and jumped in. Gautam was shaking his head and walking back to his car. Her brother waved at her as he raced past the bus on his bicycle. Thank God, she wiped her face with a clean handkerchief. That was a narrow miss.

Her mind wandered to the day of Gautam’s visit. He was seated in their tiny ground-floor apartment on the red sofa deep in conversation with her family. Her father raised his voice, citing all the reasons why his daughter would never be happy with Gautam. She was only sixteen; she hadn’t seen life as yet, she came from a Christian background, and they were poles apart. If Gautam had any sense, he’d marry a girl of his caste, creed and economic background.

“I love Julie, Sir. I don’t care about caste, creed and religion. I don’t care that Julie has no dowry. I just want your permission to make your daughter happy.”

Had they asked Julie, she’d have told them that she would be happy because Gautam loved her. He came to their place and respectfully asked for her hand. He could have done what anyone in his position would have done, taken advantage of Julie’s innocence. But he didn’t do that. Wasn’t that a sign of a gentleman?

She remembered the evening; Gautam had come to her school and had waited for her under a banyan tree. Seeing her walking towards the bus, he’d attracted her attention. Julie looked around and reassured herself that she wasn’t being noticed. Berna whispered that she’d find an excuse for the delay and inform her parents. Don’t forget to invite me to the wedding. She seemed sure even then that Gautam showed signs of permanency.

“Why did you run away this morning?”

“My brother was cycling towards us, didn’t you see him?”

“We were only talking, Julie.”

“That’s enough for the people to bad-mouth me.”

“Do you mind if they do?”

“No one will marry me then.”

“You’re only sixteen. Give me a break.”

“Yes, but they’ve been watching since I’d turned thirteen. They’d give a bad reference when I’m old enough to marry.”

“And when will that be?”

“Are you going to offer?”

“I must know what I’m buying.”

“What do you mean?” Her voice turned shrill, panic-stricken that he was going to bundle her into his car and drive off to a deserted place and do to her what Vikram Makandar had done to Julie. “I want to leave. Don’t follow me again.”

“Why? Are you afraid of me now? What did I do? Did I touch you?”

“You will eventually, just like Vikram Makandar. Then you’ll go away, and I’ll have to get beatings from my family.”

“Julie, relax. First, foremost, I’m not going anywhere. My printing press is opposite your house. Secondly, we haven’t even properly introduced ourselves, and thirdly, I’m furious that you don’t trust me. It’s been a year now since I’ve plucked up the courage to speak to you.”

“Why you didn’t talk earlier?”

“Your family was always around. How could I?”

“Berna told me that you asked about me.”

“How do you think I knew your schedule?”

“Don’t you work?”

“I do. I direct others to work for me.” He grinned as he delivered that piece of information. Julie didn’t find it funny as it only highlighted the difference between their families. The Gautams owned companies while hers worked in lowly posts in companies. They drove cars while hers pedaled on cycles. They were vegetarians while hers were non-vegetarians. They were Hindus, and hers were Christians.

He drew a neatly wrapped packet lying on the backseat of his car and gave it to her. “I got you something. Here, let me help you wear it.”

“Are you mad? I can’t accept this. Oh, my God! My daddy will kill me. My brothers will stone you. My…”

“…Mother will murder me,” he continued, as he spun her so that she was standing with her back towards him. He shifted the braids out of the way and hooked the chain around her neck. “If anyone asks, say that Berna has gifted it to you. I’ve already kept her informed.”

“But it has your initial?”

“They can’t tell the difference. The jeweler has carved it particularly for that reason.”

“Thank you.”

“I’d have liked something more substantial like a kiss on the cheek.”

“I can’t kiss you anywhere. If you want, you can take your chain back.”

“Keep it,” he pressed his lips together.

She’d come home happily wearing his chain. Her family had seen red when she stumbled over the explanation. They’d called Berna. She’d gotten nervous and blurted the truth. Gosh! How frightened she’d become as her father went into the kitchen and returned with a burning log of wood in his hand. Her mother’s pleas to spare Julie were in vain. She still remembered how she’d screamed. Gautam heard her and had come rushing to her defense. He threatened to call the police on her father as Julie cried in agony. Her mother and Berna had taken her to the other room and had tended to the burns. She hadn’t spoken to her father from then until recently when he’d taken ill. Her mother told her that she must make her peace with him.

“Why don’t we ask your daughter if she wants to marry me instead of you deciding for her?” Gautam said. She could feel his gaze penetrate the curtains, which divided the hall from the other rooms. He knew she was young, but he loved her and will take care of her, he seemed to say.

“Please leave. Don’t come here again. You’re wasting your time.”

Wait. Don’t go. Don’t leave me here. Take me with you. I love you.

“Julie?”

She came from behind the curtain wearing a pink bell-sleeve dress, which stopped above her knees. When she wore it this evening, she didn’t know that Gautam would be coming to see them. She and Berna were planning to watch TV in her place. Every Saturday, Doordarshan telecasted a Hindi film and on Sundays, a Tamil one. Since they didn’t allow Julie to go to the movies, this was her only pastime.

Her father didn’t look pleased that she was flaunting herself in an outfit that was not only disrespectful but showed the burns on her leg. It had taken months to heal. Gautam was thinking about it as well as his eyes flickered to her leg. He’d never forgiven himself for having caused her that pain. The chain was returned to him that very evening with a warning to keep away from her.

Julie defied her father and inscribed Gautam’s initial on her thigh with a penknife. No one knew as it was somewhere higher than the burn. But Gautam did as Berna had told him and he’d come with a first aid kit to tend to her. Somehow he’d managed to pass a message through a song. She smiled as she remembered the song. My heart is beating, keeps on repeating, I’m waiting for you. Luckily she read between the lines and had limped her way out saying she was going to Berna’s place and met Gautam down the street.

She’d got into his car for the first time, and he had parked it in a lonely spot and asked her to lift her dress. That was the first time he’d touched her. Julie remembered his lips as he first kissed her wound and then around it and then proceeded to tend to it. All through the process, he’d blown on her thigh, as his fingers worked gently and efficiently applying the ointment. Then he asked her how it felt, and she didn’t know what to say. Something had happened to her heart and her belly, and she couldn’t control both. His fingers on her skin had brought her curious excitement, and her belly had begun to feel like she was having period pain. She hadn’t understood what was happening, but he did. He kissed her then, and even that felt strange. It was not like pressing lips together. This was like a wet chewing gum kiss. He told her that he mustn’t be doing that as she was too young, but he needed to do it as he craved to taste her. Julie didn’t know why he said “taste” until his tongue started to dart into her mouth. She nearly choked. So he took it out and taught her how she could kiss him back.

“I’m leaving to the USA on business, Julie. I’d be away for two years. I thought I’ll take you home, get formally engaged. Your parents and mine can be witnesses.”

She looked at her father. His dark complexion was overly flushed seeming like he had a drink before the meeting. Had he known that Gautam was coming? She looked at Gautam and nodded. She’d like nothing better than that.

“Julie is yet to finish school. She has first to become independent before she can marry and have children.”

“True, we’re only getting engaged. She can continue her studies. I’ll wait for her.”

“I don’t think that would work. You go to the USA and finish your business. If she still loves you when you return, then we’ll see.”

“Is that what you want that, Julie?”

No! I want to come with you. I love you. I love your kisses. Please don’t go. “If that’s what my dad wants.”

“And me, Julie? Don’t you love me?”

She nodded, afraid to say the words lest her father burn her again.

“Come with me then. We’ll get a special license and marry. I’ll take you with me. Would that make you feel happier?”

“Over my dead body, I’ll have the police on you. You’ll go behind bars instead of going to the USA.”

Julie knew that she was defeated. They were defeated. Gautam should have left it a bit.  He shouldn’t have come there right away. He should have discussed with her and Berna. They’d have come up with a solution. By telling her father, he’d alarmed him. Now they would want Julie to marry the first boy in their community. She knew it.

“Julie?”

“Don’t trouble my daughter again.”

“I’ll not leave until Julie asks me.”

Her heart cried as she saw Gautam looking at her. Where had her tongue gone? Why had she stumbled over the words and said something utterly contrary to her feelings? He’d walked out without turning back and had never turned back after that. It was as if he’d closed that chapter in his life.

Julie waited to hear from him. She sent letters to Berna asking about him. But whether Berna was afraid of her parents or whether they didn’t pass on her replies, she didn’t know as she’d never got to confront Gautam until today. And by the look of it, she’d left it too late. Some other woman had snapped him up.

She joined the procession of cheerful folks who were dancing on the street. Gautam rode ahead like a proud Maharaja. Berna had fallen in step with her, still unaware that it was Julie. Had the years changed her so much?

“Berna?” She’d probably not hear her in all that noise. She was wrong. Berna’s face transformed in an instant: Shock, Fear, Disbelief. She was once again, the little girl she used to be, and her voice had that same quality of innocence.

“Julie? What are you doing here? How did you know? Are you come to stop the wedding?”

“No, I wanted to see him one last time before he belonged to someone else.”

“Did he invite you?”

“No, I overheard my parents discussing him. Dad was saying something like we’d finally got rid of him. I didn’t understand then. I do now.”

They stopped at their favourite shop on the sidewalk. They bought their Goli-sodas and squatted on the platform, oblivious to the passersby. The procession continued to the temple, leaving a trail of flowers on the road.  Rickshaws wallas were transporting wedding folks to the venue. Cyclists zigzagged around small groups of neighbours and friends who took up the street discussing no doubt the ongoing wedding. Warm July breeze fanned their overheated bodies, and the dark skies promised a shower later that evening.

“I almost didn’t recognize you, you know.”

“I did, instantly. Are you married?”

She was silent. Her hands shook as she lifted the bottle to her lips and took a deep gulp. She coughed as it descended the wrong pipe. “If you don’t want to talk, it’s okay. Do you want to go to the wedding?”

“No, Julie. We have a lot to discuss. After you left, Gautam turned depressive. He refused to participate in the business and would play Julie over and over again. He’d look at your house and turn melancholic. The entire locality knew that he was in love with you. He grew his hair and beard and stopped living. I hated you, Julie.”

“I thought he’d gone to the USA. He told me he was going.”

“He was— until he came to your place. I don’t know what happened over there, but things became terrible after that.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know. Honestly, I was afraid, Berna. You know after dad burned my leg, I never defied him. So what happened?”

Berna shied from her glance and looked at the street as if she was envisaging those good old days. By some crazy coincidence, someone was playing Julie, I love you. She raised her eyes to the balcony of her house. Was Gautam tying the knot at this moment? Would he remember his ‘Julie’ if she should go there and…

Do what?

“How did he get over me?”

“He heard about your fiancé Carl D’Souza—”

“Ex-fiancé. It didn’t work out. Dad got what he wanted— same caste, creed, community, religion, and social status. He forgot to check whether the man was single!”

“Are you saying he had a wife?”

“And children. He was about to marry me and have a second family in Chennai. You should have seen Dad’s face when he learned about it.”

The bride was seated by the fire, and the priest was already preparing the ceremonial rites. The wedding thali was on a gold plate, and the girl looked mysterious in a vibrant red and gold Banaras sari. Her bodice was a display of wealth; several necklaces, chains. Her wrists jingled with dozens of shiny gold bangles and bracelets. Her ears glittered with diamond-studded earrings, and there were chains from her ears to her nose. She wore a sparkling crown and a gold belt.

Never had Julie seen such pomp and show. Gautam had chosen a girl of his background just as her father had advised him.

“Are you going to stop them?”

Julie’s focused stare had drawn the girl’s eyes on her. She’d swear she’d seen something close to recognition in those eyes. But it was impossible unless Gautam carried a photo of Julie, which she doubted. He was leaning towards his bride and whispering something, and she smiled shyly.

Julie’s heart sank. What if he’d gotten over her? What if she was going through this trouble in vain? But Berna seemed to think that it was a marriage of convenience. The young girl was the daughter of his father’s associate. Julie’s eyes drifted to Gautam once again and caught him with a teasing smile on his face as his bride pointed to the thali. The priest began to recite the mantras.

The instrumental interlude of a familiar song started to play in the background. Gautam’s hands began to tremble. Berna pushed her forward, begging her to go to him and she’d take care of the rest. She shouldn’t let him marry someone else when it was evident that he loved her, and she loved him.

As Julie stumbled towards the dais where family and friends were gathered, she risked an upward glance at Gautam and was seized by the agony in those dark eyes.

My heart is beating, keeps on repeating, I am waiting for you.

He froze. At that moment, he seemed to realize that he was given a leash of life. He almost got up and ran towards her, but firm hands pressed him down. The priest frowned in confusion as he saw Julie mount the dais and come close to the groom. It was her last chance to say that she loved him and that she was sorry for what had happened and that she wanted another chance with him.

“Julie, is it you?” his breath was hollow; his eyes searched her face seeking the truth.

My love encloses a lot of roses and when shall be then our next meeting,

Coz love you know, that time is fleeting, time is fleeting, time is fleeting.

 

Berna was beaming from afar, dancing to the tune playing on the borrowed tape recorder. I told you, she seemed to say, Gautam has never stopped loving you.

“Yes, it’s me, have I changed so much that you didn’t recognize me?”

“I did,” he said, “I saw you as you parked your bicycle on the platform. Your best friend passed you by, and you were upset that she didn’t recognize you. Did you think I’d forget you that easily?”

“So why didn’t you acknowledge me?”

“I wanted to know how far you’d go, my Julie. I wanted to test your love this time before I made another mistake.”

“I never stopped loving you, Gautam.”

“You got engaged to another man.”

“We broke up. I’m free now, to take or leave.”

“And your parents?”

“I’m not sixteen anymore.”

Gautam’s bride was discreetly wiping her tears as her groom turned towards her. His expression told her without words that it was over, his heart was taken. As if on cue, the starting notes of Julie started to play as Gautam picked the thali. Julie closed her eyes and gave a contented smile.

Everyone started to clap as Gautam tied the thali around the neck of the girl he claimed as his wife. There was a collective gasp and then thunderous applause. Julie’s eyes flickered open as it began to sink that the bride wasn’t her.

She staggered to her feet, stumbled down the steps of the dais. Berna rushed to the front and caught her before she fell. As for Gautam, he was too preoccupied with his bride to take any notice of them. The song continued in the background Julie Aa…aa…I love you…aa…aa.

 

About the Author: 

Cécile Rischmann is Indian, a linguist by profession, and married to a Frenchman. Her short story ‘Jilted’ was chosen in a nationwide romance contest conducted by Rupa Publications and published in an anthology, An Atlas of Love. She has used her perception of Indian and French culture to write this East-meets-West romantic comedy The French Encounter

 www.cecilerischmann.com

https://www.amazon.com/author/cecilerischmann