Free Julie & Kishore by Carol Jackson

five seconds to change from puzzlement to
understanding, a smile spread across his face, “Oh Julie, that’s so sweet,
thank you so much.”
    He
began to wrap his hands around his burger but before he could pick it up, I
proclaimed I had something else to tell him. After practicing the little
sentence all day I was relieved to be about to say it. I cleared my throat but
was interrupted by children running past our table heading for the slides, I
cleared my throat again.
    “Kishore,
mai tumse pyiar karti hun,” I announced.
    Kishore’s
eyes lit up and he beamed, “Ohh…thank you Julie ,   I love you too.” Taking his hands away
from his food he reached to put his arm
around me , I slid close r to him in the booth seat. Cuddling while we ate, children scuttled past us
running to and from the playground.
    After
I had said I loved him once, I couldn’t stop saying it, the words bursting from
my mouth again and again like popcorn as it heats and explodes in a pot.

 
 
    CHAPTER FOURTEEN

 
    The
Hindi word for year is saal.

 
    Kishore’s
Father was originally from a small village in Punjab. His Father (Kishore’s
Grandfather) was the local bookkeeper and highly respected. He was a meticulous
worker and made all of his calculations by hand on paper. As with any little
country town, life in Punjab was far simpler than in the city. The village
people were a close-knit community and the happy children glowed from a relaxed
life of playing outside with sunshine on their cheeks.
    People
who left Punjab to move to a bigger town always referred to it affectionately
as their native place. When they returned for a visit they enjoyed coming back
home to their roots and catching up with family and friends which gave them a
sense of belonging.
    The
property Chandra’s Father lived in had been passed down from generation to
generation within the family. It was a big house made with bricks that had been
formed out of mud and had stood the test of time. The furniture was sparse and
the house had no electricity or running water.
    Some
years earlier, Chandra’s second eldest sister, Bhamini, had moved to New
Zealand with her husband Harilal. His younger brother had moved to the city
when he married, as had Chandra. Big cities provided people with far more work
opportunities and greater chances of sending children to better quality
schools.
    Kalindi,
the eldest child in the family, was the only sibling to remain in the Punjab
family home. She shared the house with her husband, their three children and
Kishore’s Grandparents. Kalindi was a stern woman, the hard life of being a farmer’s wife was etched
on her face.
    The
family’s source of milk was from their cow, named Gauri, she lived in a little
annex next to the house. Kalindi milked her daily. Her other chores included
cooking, sweeping, collecting firewood, pulling water from the well and washing
clothes in the river by beating them against the rocks.

 
    Kishore’s
Mother married his Father when she was just eighteen - Kishore arrived fourteen
months later. When Kishore was three months old his parents travelled with him
on a long and dusty six hour bus journey to the small village in Punjab. They
had been asked to come and visit Kishore’s Grandfather who was terribly sick
with pneumonia.
    As
Chandra and Roopa entered the house the mood was sombre. Chandra’s Mother
eagerly took the sleeping baby Kishore from Roopa’s arms and the weary
travelers slowly ambled into the next room to see Chandra’s ailing Father.
    Kalindi
watched as her Mother cuddled her baby Grandson. For the first time in weeks,
maybe months, she saw a calm and peaceful look on her Mother’s face, at that
moment Kalindi hatched a plan. When Chandra and Roopa returned from the other room with furrowed brows, Kalindi tentatively
suggested when they leave they should let Kishore stay in Punjab with his
Grandparents. She proposed the baby would be a distraction for his Grandmother
and with his