Erotic Stories for Punjabi Widows

Nikki was very close to smashing a gulab jamun on the guy’s forehead when his wife emerged from a back room. Suddenly, he became busy finding a box for the sweets. The wife glared at Nikki as she paid and left.

She checked the time on her phone. It was too early to go to Mum’s without having to sit through countless questions that she wouldn’t be able to answer about her teaching job. She strolled along the Broadway, where the pavement was crowded with discount clothing racks and vegetable crates. A crooked line of men had formed outside a mobile phone shop selling overseas calling cards. Stacked atop these stores were more businesses, overlapping signs popping out from the buildings like cartoon speech bubbles: Pankaj Madhur Accounting, Himalaya Guest House, RHP Surveillance Pte Ltd. What Nikki used to consider chaos now felt very much like home as she wove through the throng of people, the box of sweets tucked under her arm. Eventually, she came to an intersection and crossed it to find herself standing at the entrance of the Bank of Baroda.

Sheena was sitting at a counter and assisting a customer when Nikki walked in. ‘Next,’ called the woman in the window next to hers.

‘No thank you,’ Nikki said. ‘I’m here to see Sheena.’

Sheena looked up. She returned to the customer and then walked out to greet Nikki with an air of professionalism that belied the confusion on her face. ‘Kelly, I’m going on my lunch break,’ she called.

Once they were outside, Sheena’s smile vanished. ‘What are you doing here?’ she asked.

‘Can we talk?’

‘Oh, Nikki, I knew I should have asked you before passing those stories around. You’re upset, aren’t you? Listen, the women coming to the next class are trustworthy. We’ll talk tonight about what to say to the Brothers if they question us.’

‘It’s not about the stories,’ Nikki said. ‘It’s Karina Kaur I’m curious about.’

The concern on Sheena’s face faded. ‘You’re interrupting my lunch hour,’ she replied.

‘I can’t talk to you about it at the temple because there are too many eavesdroppers. I had to come here.’

‘What makes you think I know anything?’

Nikki described the footage of the school candlelight vigil. ‘I’m pretty sure that was you.’

‘That’s impossible,’ Sheena said. ‘I wasn’t at school then. I was a newlywed when Karina died.’

‘It was someone who looked a lot like you then. She had that glittery pink manicure.’

‘Lots of women in Southall have those,’ Sheena said.

‘It was you. We both know it. You were wearing that necklace with the letter G pendant.’

Sheena winced as though Nikki had jabbed her. She only recovered after adjusting the collar of her blouse to conceal the fine gold chain. ‘What for, Nikki? Why do you want to know? Because if you’re just plain curious, I’m not here to indulge you. This community’s problems are real.’

‘This isn’t for entertainment.’

‘What’s it to you then?’ Sheena pressed.

‘It’s my community too,’ Nikki said. ‘I don’t live here, but I’m part of it now. In my entire life, I have never felt so frustrated, amused, loved and bewildered as I have been in these past two months. But there seem to be layers of things going on that I’m not allowed to know about.’ She sighed and looked away. ‘I’m not so na?ve to think that I can help, but I’d like to be aware of what’s happening.’

Sheena’s face softened. A speck of afternoon sunlight peeped through the clouds and deepened the orange of her hennaed hair. Nikki was unwilling to drop her gaze, even when Sheena looked past her, deep in thought.

‘Let’s go for a drive,’ she finally said. Nikki followed her round to the car park and Sheena’s little red Fiat. Sheena put her key in the ignition. A bhangra tune poured from the speakers. They said nothing to each other on the drive, which took them past rows of bone-white houses. The road curved out and the houses disappeared behind them, replaced by parkland. Sheena slowed down on a gravelly road that opened out onto a small lake. The sun glinted on the water.

‘The girl you saw in the documentary was Gulshan Kaur. She was one of my best friends,’ Sheena said. ‘She died in a hit-and-run accident not far from here. The driver never came forward.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ Nikki said.

‘Her mother gave me her birth necklace after she died. I didn’t want to accept it at first, but she insisted. There’s a superstition about keeping a deceased woman’s gold in her own home. It brings bad luck. Most people decide to sell or reshape their gold but Gulshan’s mother insisted that I have it. I’ve worn it every day since her death.’

‘You touch it sometimes,’ Nikki said. ‘Like you’re remembering her.’

‘If Gulshan were alive today, we’d see each other every day,’ Sheena said. ‘She’d still be my friend even though those other women distanced themselves from me and thought I was bad luck after Arjun’s cancer. She cared about the truth. That’s what killed her.’

‘What do you mean?’

Sheena took in a quivering breath. ‘Karina was Gulshan’s cousin. Gulshan and I were a few years older than her, so whenever she mentioned her cousin Karina, I just knew her as the lively girl that Gulshan played older sister to. Karina was rebellious. She got suspended from school for selling cigarettes to younger kids once, and she sneaked out to meet boys. Gulshan used to counsel her. Karina’s father was highly respected in the community and each time Karina did something bad, people muttered, “What’s wrong with that girl? She comes from such a good family. There’s no excuse.” Gulshan knew the truth though. Karina’s father drank heavily. He did it behind closed doors. A few times, Karina showed Gulshan the bruises she had from her father’s beatings.’

‘What was Karina’s mother like?’ Nikki asked.

‘Not around. This was part of the reason Karina’s father was so strict – he had no idea how to control a daughter. She was punished for every little thing and the beatings became more frequent. He pressured her to leave school and marry an older man in India. One day Gulshan got a call from Karina from a payphone. She said she was running away with her boyfriend and that she would call again once she was safe. Gulshan tried to talk Karina out of it but Karina said, “It’s too late. If I go home now, my father will murder me.” Gulshan didn’t tell anybody that Karina had called her, but a few days later, somebody managed to track her down.’

‘A bounty hunter, I’m guessing,’ Nikki said.

‘Yes. A taxi driver who was after the reward money. He found her miles away, in Derby. Imagine that, Nikki. She got that far away and the community still managed to find her.’ Sheena choked on these last words.

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