Kishore was in a very good mood. He was attending the wedding of his best friend and was thoroughly enjoying himself. The four or more drinks he had consumed kept him high and happy.

He and Rudy had grown up together. They had attended the same primary and secondary schools. Now they both worked in the Public Service. They had double dated on many occasions but he had not seriously considered marriage, at least not yet. He still had a few years to enjoy himself and he had every intention of doing so.
As the reception went on he wandered outside into the backyard. He had been there many times so he knew it well. He stood in the cool night breeze drinking a Banks Beer. He looked over by the gate and saw a young lady standing there. It was dark at the back because all the action was taking place in front. He walked towards the figure intending to escort her to the front. When he got to within a few yards of the woman she vanished.
He stopped and stared at the spot she had just been standing in. Glaring at the glass of El Dorado rum he had been drinking, he tossed its contents away and headed indoors. He was beginning to see things. That was a sign that it was time to go.
Kishore rode his Honda 750cc motor cycle along the lonely road. Its bright high beam picked out a stationary figure dressed in black. It was a woman so he revved down and stopped. She was much too pretty to just pass by. He smiled and she smiled back. That was enough of an invitation for him. With his usual slick and charm, he offered her a drop home. She accepted. She got onto the big bike and he roared off. He was in no hurry to get her home.
“Where do you live?”
She clung to him with one hand and used the other to point in the same direction in which they were going. They rolled on. When he got to her house she smiled at him, gave him a quick peck on the cheek and slipped away into the yard leaving the lovely scent of her perfume with him. Kishore rode the rest of the way home swiftly.
Work commitment gave him little time to think of the beautiful girl. After a week of hard work his thoughts returned to the lady he had given a lift. Somehow he could still smell her perfume. He realised this was only in his head. What he needed to do was go and see her. He decided to visit her the next afternoon.
Kishore announced his arrival at her home with the high revving of his powerful silver motor cycle. The noise was so loud he was sure it could wake the dead. He was even more convinced that she would hear it and come to the door, but he was disappointed.
An obviously angry woman appeared at the door. Her hair was waist long and she had a striking resemblance to the girl he had met. This must be her mother. Then the serious face of a bald headed, middle aged man joined her. Kishore parked the bike and strode manfully into the small yard.
“Good afternoon.” He gave them his best smile.
“Why you got to mek so much noise young man? This is a residential area!” The father’s tone was stern.
This was not the start Kishore was hoping for. He would need to do some quick damage control.
“My apologies.”
“Huh!” the dad was not impressed.
“How are you?” he tried again.
“Disturbed!” was the bunt response.
Ouch. This was proving to be a tough nut to crack. He focused his attention on the mother. He gave her his flashing smile. She smiled back at him. Much better, he thought.
“How can we help you young man?” the mother sounded very friendly.
Kishore looked at the father and was about to ask for his daughter when he realised that he did not even know her name. This was going to be awkward.
“I just wanted to say hello to your daughter.”
The two looked at each other in genuine surprise then back to him in puzzlement.
“What are you talking about boy?”
The father’s voice was low and seemed to carry a slight tremor in it.
“Is it okay for me to speak to your daughter?”
The father was staring at him with a strange faraway look in his eyes. The old man sighed and addressed Kishore.
“Why you really come here?”
Kishore was taken aback and a bit angered by the question. He knew some parents were protective but this was ridiculous.
“I am asking to speak to your daughter. If it’s a problem say so and I will leave.”
A look of disbelief passed from mother to father. They beckoned him to sit.
“Y..Y..You spoke to our daughter?”
Kishore had almost had enough. His answer to the father was in a louder than necessary tone.
“Of course I did. I brought her home a few nights ago!”
He stood up angrily ready to storm out of the repressive presence of these two prison guards. They could keep her locked up for all he cared. The mother laid a gentle hand on his and he looked into two tender, tear filled eyes. Something was not right here.
He glanced quickly at the father. The man was trying without success to withhold tears. Kishore sat down puzzled. The woman got up and walked inside. She returned with a family photo album. Opening it she pointed to the photograph of the beautiful girl and asked him if she was the girl he met.
“Yes!” Kishore smiled in excitement as he looked at the picture of his beautiful passenger.
“Tell me what happened?” the father asked him quietly.
Kishore related all that had taken place a few nights ago. They both listened intently and did not interrupt him. Tears were falling freely from both parents now. Kishore’s heart began to flutter. Some instinct warned him that he was in for a big bombshell.
“Son her name is Sita and she was nineteen when she died…”
The mother’s voice broke and she sobbed softly. Kishore sat staring stupidly at the album. The pages were turned and he saw the funeral pictures. His perplexed brain was having some difficulty accepting all this. When the entire saga had unfolded he too had tears in his eyes.
He bid the grieving pair goodbye and rode slowly home. As he rode along a dark, lonely stretch of road, his headlight picked out the figure of a woman waving him to stop. With a roar of his over revved engine he tore past and left her eating dust. No more stopping for him.

(By Neil Primus)