The girl next door, all grown up (Part I)

REGARDLESS of what anyone else says, you do have choices. It is up to you to decide what is right for you; find your own niche; colour your life the way you see fit. The past, the present and the future are yours; the choices you make shape your experiences, shape the individual you are.

With only one life to live, how can anyone not live it to the fullest?

It was a question she asked herself every day. It was the justification 25-year-old Indira Mattai gave to her growing sense of conformity to the wider culture of the world; a culture that promised her opportunities she had always dreamed of, but a culture that brought her into contact with a diversity she’d only seen on the TV; a diversity that was not always morally correct.

But could she refuse what she felt in her heart was her calling? Should she not reach for the stars when she knew she could pluck them from the skies?

Born and raised as part of a
traditional Indian family in a small town in the Ancient County of Berbice, Indira grew up fast under the lights of the wider world; under the lights of the capital city. She saw new things and lived new and exciting experiences. Not all of them were good, and at times she strayed from the principles she had been brought up with, but her experiences left her richer, and her life was fuller somehow because of it.

It was her life, and she dabbled with all the colours, trying to find the ones that fit.

“I love my job. Tourism is not just what I was trained in, but it is what I am good at; really good at, Jess. I love travelling and experiencing new things, and then sitting down to write about it. I am good at this, but I think it is costing me.”

Her best friend, who had known her since she was 11, looked at her and his heart went out to her.

“You got to do what is right for you, and the people that matter will love you because all that matters is that you are happy. It is a different world these days,” he said, and pulled her close in an embrace.

Indira let herself be comforted, because she needed it, and before she knew it, their eyes locked, leaving both wondering at the next move, yet not moving. After what felt like forever, he leaned in and kissed her.

She allowed it, returning his kiss in the same ardent way he gave himself up to the moment.

When their lips finally parted, they could only stare at each other.

Such a moment had been long in coming, and they both knew as much. Still, nothing was said, and no sounds were made; a look was exchanged and Indira just left.

“Now I am more confused than ever…I got double trouble; home and him,” she said to the walls that constituted the humble abode she called an apartment.

It was comfortably furnished: A beige couch, a polished coffee table, a small television that stood on an antique stand, one bedroom, and a nice kitchen.

Hers was a small place in a good part of town, at a good price, and not too far from the Tourism Association where she did freelance writing. It worked for her.

Very different from the posh lifestyle she was accustomed to, but her independence had come at a price. She wanted to be on her own, so she had to pay her own way to do that.

“I love my life…I think,” she said, staring at the bathroom mirror as she brushed her teeth and prepared for bed that night.

The uncertainty, she realised, began plaguing her after a trip home a week ago.

Her paternal grandmother had died and she’d gone home for the funeral. The reunion with hundreds of family members and a return to her old life was surreal in a way of sorts.

“A whole different world,” she remembered telling her sister, Mira, who was two years her senior and living a happy married life.

“It is not different; it is right,” Mira said. “We live simple here, and have a good name to be proud of. In town, you want to live your own way and have fun; go out to places and entertain all kinds of bad company who encourage you to drink, and all kinds of scandalous nonsense.”

“That is not true and you know it,” Indira shot back. “Yes, I travel, but that is for work. And yes, I drink, but socially only, once in a while… Where is all this stress coming from, anyways?”

“I am just saying sometimes you have to live for other people; make sacrifices, and not think about yourself only.”

“That is crazy talk. I help out mom and dad still, and I got a far way to go with my job. Why must I limit myself?”

“You being selfish, and all you thinking about is fame.”

“Mira, that is not true. I work damn hard for what I have, and if I know I can fly. Why shouldn’t I?”

“Is the same thing I say; all them crazy talk around simple people. This is the way things always been, and it always worked. Why you want to do different? You stubborn; that’s what.”

“Mi…! Look, whatever, girl!”

The conversation had been on her mind since she got back to town. It left her perplexed and thoughtful — pensive.

Her sister was asking her to settle, and it could not come at a worse time. Mira had asked her question, not because she did not know the answer to it, but because she wanted Indira to reflect on the answer; to have the question imprinted on her mind.

That much Indira knew.

“They are asking me to conform to a world I am running from; a world where everything is right, but mundane; a world where a good name is guaranteed once you conform to the hum-drum of everyday life. A world where you never reaching for more and never fighting what you want. Simplicity is said to be the peak of civilization, but there is the climb to that peak and the decent. What of that?”

Rereading these words, Indira stared at her journal and wondered at her life’s choices. She had been brought up traditionally and had dared to step out of that box, but was it worth it?

“God I hate that I am questioning what makes me happy,” she screamed as she flung the journal to the corner of the room.

In the weeks that followed she put it out of her mind and went about her life.

It was exactly two weeks later before she met her best friend again. She saw Jess from a distance in the same minute she heard him call her name.

He was the regular fun loving man and had a friendly face. At 29-years-old he was completely different form her and had a stable job with an Auditing Firm. In a strange way that made them good friends. He was never judgmental and together their experiences had lent something to each others’ lives.

But there was the complication, the kiss they shared, and the fact that Jess had struck you a crescendo in her life.

“Hi,” he said with an uncertainty about him she was not used to.

“Hi,” Indira said.

The smile on her face eased the tension creeping up owing to the memory of their last encounter.

Several lunch dates followed with a comfortable frequency and Indira was more than content to have someone to lean on and forget her situation at home, for the moment at least.

In her quite moments her thoughts shifted back there though and she hated the incomplete feeling she had whenever she mulled over it.

“You leave home and you move on and you do the best you can,” she said to her best friend Chloe.

Toying with her shoulder length red hair, Chloe looked at her as if to say ‘I think you are a little lost and lost sight of what really matters’.

Kindred spirits,
they had fallen fast friends and they both being writers had always been there for each other. Troubled relationships, heartbreaks, upset stomachs, writer’s block, and cramps even, they had been through a lot together. Chloe was free spirited and did what she wanted; her red hair was testimony to that. While it matched her fair complexion everyone said not to, yet she did. She did what she thought was right by her. The two friends were alike in that and many other regards, their similarities made them better friends – kindred spirits.

“At home you are different. Here you are someone else. You have to decide who you really want to be and find out if you can merge both selves…it is up to you,” Chloe said.

Over dinner at her apartment that night she repeated her conversation with Chloe to Jess. They could always talk about anything and talk for hours on end.

“How about you stop thinking about all of this. Come on to the couch, leave the dishes, I give you a massage.”

“That sounds divine,” Indira said overplaying the drama with a smirk on her face.

“Get!” Hand raised as if to hit her, Jess returned her smile and they both laughed.

Settled on the couch she felt his strong hands on her shoulders as he placed one knee knelt behind her.

“Maybe you are over thinking things,” he ventured.

“Maybe, I do that don’t I?”

Turning to him with questioning eyes she stared at him, but in that moment the atmosphere seemed charged somehow. Staring at each other the both leaned closer until their lips met. Their kiss spoke to passion and when Indira opened her eyes they gave consent to his obvious question.

Being intimate would change their relationship, a voice inside her head screamed as much, but she ignored it as they both gave themselves up to the moment.

The sun on her face woke her in the morning and the daylight cast an accusing light on the night’s exploits.

Jess had left, Indira hadn’t known what to expect and in her confusion she welcomed the solitude.

The next few days were even more confusing as he was called off to an Internal Auditors Conference. The two week meeting in Trinidad could not have come at a worse time.

“Worse time,” Indira moaned as she threw up minutes before leaving for the office.

She felt sick and being a free lancer she was lucky in that she could have postponed her meeting. In bed for most of the day her thoughts went to the worst case scenario – she was pregnant.

“God I hope not,” she said.

But inside there was that niggling feeling that she might be.

Alone Indira took the next sensible step, a pregnancy test.

Sitting on the toilet the next morning, the word confused took on a whole different level of meaning.

“Positive,” she whispered, “I’m pregnant.”

Indira called her sister, who dealt well with two pregnancies, and confided the staggering truth.

“Girl what you gone and do. You not even married!”

“I know, but this is it and I got to deal with it.”

“Who’s the father?”

“Jess.”

“Indira I don’t know what to say. Look come home for the weekend and we’ll talk.”

“Ok…see you then.”

Indira called Chloe next and got a very different response.

“Dibs on godmother…girl am so happy for you.”

In all of her friend’s excitement she could not bear to tell her about the turmoil raging inside her. Silently she thanked heavens she was not with Chloe. The play of emotions on her face was always a hard thing to disguise.

“I talk to you later ok babes.”

“Sure thing and you take care okay.”

“I will bye.”

That night Indira sat down, opened her journal and purged herself of the emotions tormenting her.

“If I cold touch home, touch this place or feel it, the brokenness inside me might start healing and the confusion might go away,” she wrote.

She remembered that thought a few days later when she made her way into the living room of her childhood home to find the entire family seated and the atmosphere tensed. Mother, father, brother, sister, brother-in-law and even her one living grandmother were there.

“Hi!”

“Hi! That’s what you got to say after you finished doing your commonness. We ashamed of you,” he father pelted.

With that the floodgates opened and Indira felt backed into a corner as she was blasted on her choice of lifestyle and the “shameful bastard child” she was carrying.

Every decision she had made since she left home was decried and she listened as those closest to her bludgeon her reality with mere words, as those close to her impressed upon her the fact that the world was only black or white and she had chosen wrong.

The assault on her conscious self continued as they each took a blow, or three, at her.

“You aint shame?”

“You making you family got to hang them head when they walk.”

“What you doing with your life?”

“You ruin you life.”

“We don’t throw away we children, but look what you gone and do.”

“This is not how we raise you.”

“You living a no good life,” her father yelled, “You don’t have no future.”

That did it for Indira, being told she had no future. Yes she had not lived as per her family’s wishes, yes she went against their tradition and yes she disappointed them, but she was certain that she had a future. She was sure of that.

The road experiences and emotions pushes your feet toward is not always the easiest way to travel.

With that acknowledgement she walked out of her childhood home, the house that built her, and decidedly set her sights away from the pain. Away from the pain of being disowned, of being made a stranger in a matter of moments because of daring to be different; and the hurt that cloaked her soul.