Your Destiny Lies (Pune, India)

Your Destiny Lies (Pune, India) The three hour drive from Mumbai to Pune during the monsoon had proved to be anticlimatic. The weather was overcast but there were very drops of rain and definitely not any mud slides.

Also once moving out of the suburbs of Bombay, the landscape was incredible. There were plush green hills, mountains, countryside, and miles and miles of open space.

Occasionally there was a person that was walking alongside the road – but mostly it was over the road trucks transporting goods, infrastructure pieces – cement, pipes, and girders – that overtook the company car that drove me at breakneck speed.

An hour into the drive, I asked the driver to stop at a rest stop so I could pee.

We turned off the highway to a half paved and half dirt road where there was a gasoline station and next to a hill and next to it was a hastily constructed building with wooden stairs and ramps – one leading to the woman’s bathroom and another leading to the man’s bathroom.

Funny, when my bladder realized I was about to release it – it almost couldn’t hold. I hurried inside and it was packed. It was a strange sight being the only foreigner in the room. So everybody looked me up and down. I waited for a couple of minutes and suddenly one of the urinals came available. I stepped up quickly, unbuttoned my fly, and aimed.

It was halfway through I noticed that the pee that was already in there was not going anywhere – and I saw the pee level rising against the rim of the urinal. It was rising, rising, and rising. And my pee kept coming and coming.

That’s when I wished I could be a girl, have the superpower to stop peeing in mid-stream – pull my pants up – walk somewhere else or go somewhere else – and pee again.

Finally – I saw the pee start to overtake the rim and in deep yellow engulf the white porcelain. It flowed over neatly and smoothly like overfilling a milk glass. I stopped my stream and stepped back to avoid the splatter.

That’s when I just buttoned up again. And I turned around. Quickly, there was another man who took my spot who obviously didn’t let it bother him about the overfill.

I waited outside the toilets for another couple of minutes doing a battle with my bladder.

Finally someone walked out and I hurried inside.

Upon fastening the door, the smell hit me. But it was too late. My bladder had made friends with the toilet and I found myself extracting and continuing where I had left off just minutes ago.

Upon leaving, I tried to wash my hands but it was a moot point so I just walked outside. I took the steps and ramp down. And that’s when I noticed all the men leaning forwards on the railing extracting themselves and just aiming at the ground below.

“Why did I go inside to the bathroom?” I asked myself outloud.

One of the Indian guys standing nearby and who was peeing overhead me and turned and looked me over curiously.

I got to the company car and the driver was waiting by the door. He was all smiles.

“Thanks so much,” I said.

“Yessir.” And with that he opened the door to the backseat passenger seat in the car, I climbed inside and we were off again.

I found myself in the company cafeteria on the second day of me teaching.

I was surrounded by a group of by four beautiful Indian women – all managers and coordinators of the learning and development and Human Resources.

I felt like I had been dropped in the middle of a Hindu version of “Sex and the City” but instead of being four single women – they were all married. Most had been married for a nearly ten years – with one exception – Asha – who has been married for only one year.

“So how did you meet?” I asked her to strike up conversation.

“We were arranged.” And her face went serious.

“So you didn’t know him?”

“I had heard about him, yes. But actually know him, no, I didn’t.”

The ladies laughed around her. “Yes, Asha hated him.”

And she laughed back, “And he hated me too!”

“So you don’t hate each other anymore?”

“No, I don’t. Crazy thing.”

Then the women all gave each other knowing glances.

“What happened?”

Asha shook her head slowly. “I don’t know. It’s like we changed. It was like six months later I was madly in love with him.”

“Whoa! That’s amazing. So a man you hated when you married him, you fell in love with him soon after?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

I shook my head in disbelief.

“How about you?” Preeti, my sponsor for the trip, asked me. “So you can’t be single.”

“I am dating someone but we fight a lot. Maybe because we are both stubborn or too much alike. And I hate our fights. They are horrendous fights. And when we get into it – they destroy us. It tears our hearts out.”

“Is that your fault or hers?”

“The fault is always in the middle. A little bit of her. A little bit of me.”

Asha nodded understandingly. “You know before my wedding my grandparents came up to me and my husband and gave us this advice: if your wife starts a fight, apologize even if its your fault. And then compliment them. And if your husband starts a fight, apologize even if its not your fault. And then compliment them.”

All the women around the table nodded knowingly.

“Maybe all of you have figured it out. Maybe love is a ruse. The feeling lies.” I said.

“No your destiny lies. Your destiny is your destiny. You choose or accept your life how you want it.” Priya, the leader of the group said with a smile.

“Passion comes when you know your destinies are intertwined. Tied together. And there is no escaping it.” Soumi added.

“How can you fall in love with someone you hate?”

“Hate is a strong word. I should say I disliked him.” And Asha paused before going on.

“But I don’t know, it just happened.” And then again there was that secret smile that held the secret to love.

“So maybe your destiny is more about trust and respect than the feeling of ‘love’.”

“Its all of the above.” Preeti said.

Priya eyes got wide, “How about all of us meet for dinner and drinks tomorrow night?

And we can dance!”

The women all laughed in approval.

“Okay. I would be honored. But I hope I don’t make your husbands jealous.” I said putting my hands into my food and bringing it to my mouth.

The women all smiled coyly. “I wish they would.” Priya said.

And there Preeti and I were at the German Bakery across the street from the Osho Ashram. Preeti looked a little out of her element. It was overrun with foreigners – mostly European, and I could tell by some accents – some were American. But what I was struck by the most – those that were local – especially the women – were dressed in Western clothes and were incredibly gorgeous.

“You know I have lived in Pune for years but I have never come here,” Preeti admitted.

“Why?” I asked as we went into the main part of the café where you ordered food. There was such a menu selection – that we stood there looking up – overwhelmed by the choices. The locals that were running the café – were far too many that could fit in the kitchen and near the cash registers. But all of them were yelling orders to the back – some repeating the yelling of orders. Orders were coming out incorrect. Some items were ordered that were not ordered. We saw one Indian guy yell at the other one about a wrong order.

“Well, only foreigners come here – so I have never come here. Besides, its very expensive.”

“Is it because its across the street from the Ashram?”

“Yeah. Maybe.” And then one of the guys behind the counter yelled at us for our orders impatiently. Preeti ordered a cinnamon roll and a coffee. She then turned to me, “What do you want?”

“I will take the same but make my coffee a mocha.”

The guy taking our order didn’t understand when I said mocha. He looked at Preeti to translate. She said it just like I said it, “Mocha.” His eyebrows wrinkled. She then said it more slowly, “M-o-c-h-a.”

The man bobbled his head in agreement and yelled out instructions.

Then Preeti and I stood back watching the pandemonium.

Finally the cinnamon roll showed up and two coffees. Preeti stepped up and asked if it was a mocha. The guy bringing the food looked confused. She repeated, “Is this a mocha?”

He bobbled his head. “No.” He then yelled at the guy who gave the instructions. The instruction guy yelled back. They took both coffees back.

Preeti and I tried to resist them taking it back but it was too late. So we stood there as more and more customers hurried up – instructions were yelled out – and the inside reminded me of the traffic jam outside the Coffee Shop.

Finally the coffee returned – with a lighter colored drink beside it – which ended up being the mocha. We walked up and I told Preeti to put her money up and I paid.

We walked out into the front of the café which had a wooden front but had tree trunk tables and seats. A group of people left just as we were approaching – so we quickly sat down.

“I did some research on the Ashram outside. It seems that to see the grounds you have to have an AIDS test. I mean, you have to have an AIDS, HIV test just to walk on the premises. There is rumor that they have organized orgies.”

Preeti sipped on her coffee and stayed quiet for a moment. “Yeah, that’s another reason I don’t come around here. Very foreign. Actually the foreigners used to cause a big stir because they would kiss each other in the open on the street outside. That’s a big no-no for conservative India. But they have since stopped doing that – and keep everything inside the premises.”

“Seems like the guy who started got banned from the United States. He had what twenty Rolls Royces – and his cult following attempted biological weaponry on the nearby city the American Ashram – that’s when they got banned.”

Preeti smiled, “It was salmonella. And it was a salad bar. Yeah, a very different bunch.”

We sat there quietly watching the people. I sipped on my mocha which tasted more like coffee with a very small splash of coffee. I could already feel my heart rate speeding up.

“So what about you?” I asked. “If you weren’t doing this – what would you be doing?”

“You mean if I wasn’t the Learning and Development coordinator?”

“Yes.” She was quiet for a moment. “I guess I would be an actress or theatre performer.”

“Wow. Really?” I was impressed.

“Really. I did theatre in university and loved it a lot. And I got rave reviews.”

“So what happened?”

“Well a career happened. Marriage happened.”

“Do you ever regret it?”

She smiled broadly. “Never. Because my daughter is more of an actress than I could have ever been. My destiny will move out into hers. I think of it that I started something in her. And she will finish it.”

“Her destiny lies in yours.”

“Or my destiny was her.”

The driver picked me up from the Sun and Sand Hotel and the traffic was now lighter than it had been earlier and thankfully because the rainy season – the temperature was a lot cooler.

Suddenly, we showed up at an apartment complex with a large iron gates. The driver talked to the guards at the front. They opened up the gates and we came inside and parked. One of the armed guards came to the van and handed me a clipboard to fill out – asking for my name, my address, my phone number, and who I was visiting.

Once I had finished, the driver stepped out of the van and gave it to the guard. Then we drove on into the apartment complex – and the driver craned his neck to look up at the massive buildings to find Priya’s apartment building. Finally, he pulled over and his phone rang. He answered and spoke in Hindi. Then he put his phone away and pointed beside us. “That’s the building.” He then got out.

I followed him.

We went underneath the building which was a big open area with massive columns to hold the apartment complex up. Another guard was there and smiled when he saw me.

We went to the elevator and pushed the up button.

It arrived with a big ding and the elevator door opened and the metal security door swung open. Some people got out – and then we got inside the cramped space.

The driver pushed a button and the elevator made it slow climb.

Finally, it dinged loudly again – and we came out. And around us were six doors. Two across from us and two to the left of us and two to the right. But one door stood out from the other doors – it had a large picture of Jesus Christ on it. I thought this was a bit strange being that I was India.

The driver walked to that door and pushed the doorbell. The door opened quickly. And there were Asha, Preeti, Soumi, and Priya – and then there were their husbands behind them – plus the kids. Everyone was all smiles.

The driver left me with them and left. And then I was served a new drink which was a concoction of Fenny liquor, vodka, and something else. The others had already one before I arrived so that’s why everyone was in a jovial mood. I had to catch up. I was introduced to everyone. By the time we had small talk – I was on my second drink.

The ladies were excited about the food – and they paraded me around the dining room table and it was teeming with dishes. Before they could complete telling me what dish was what – I was starving – and started putting food on my plate. This delighted them.

And I ate something of everything. I was also moved that they had bought meat for me – when all the families – none of them ate meat. So I made sure to put that on my plate.

Then all the families took plates of food around the room – sitting on the chairs, the couches – standing – and we ate and talked and laughed. That’s when I sat beside Asha’s husband. As the others were wrapped up in conversation, I turned to him and said directly, “I heard you and Asha didn’t like each other when you married.”

He smiled. He looked across the room at Asha. Asha caught my statement and caught his eyes. They both held a secret smile. “Yes, that’s true. I couldn’t stand her.”

Asha laughed.

“So what happened?”

Asha’s husband took more food into his mouth and chewed it slowly. Finally he answered, “I guess love happened.”

The night transformed into a dancing party. Priya put on a Punjabi Hip Hop mix CD – and all of us got into it. It was crazy to see the parents dancing more than the kids. The kids were shy at first – watching their parents gyrate around and bumping up against each other – but finally they joined in. Then all the families were holding hands – booty shaking – doing splits – and jumping up and down – while doing Russian kicks. We all became a sweaty mess. The husbands including me – would dance together to entice the women. And the women would gather together – and try to entice us.

Finally, we started getting tired – and the kids energy levels were still the same – and they took over our roles.

I sat on the couch first and watched them moving together, laughing, smiling, taking sips of their alcoholic beverages. Someone always asking me if I wanted a refill or if I was still hungry. And this place it felt like… like… home. This was the family I wanted to have one day. A family that dances together stays together. And suddenly, a place I haven’t felt before in a long time – came open – and I tried to take a mental Polaroid of the moment.

Just then Asha and her husband sat down beside me.

I then overhead Asha say to her husband, “I didn’t know you were such a good dancer.

Very sexy.” And she smiled that secret smile at him. He smiled back and squeezed her leg.

So as the night was nearly over, we were celebrating Asha’s husband’s new promotion with a bottle of champagne, Preeti came near me and asked, “You want us to find your destiny?”

I laughed. “What you mean?”

“You want us to talk to a Hindu priest for you?”

“You mean a match maker?” I asked.

She said yes.

And I thought about it. I thought about my friends back in the States that had chosen their wives without being arranged or using a match maker – and how some had been successful and some had failed. And never had I heard any of the ones – who were failing – or when I heard that they hated the one they were married to – do an about face three to six months say they love them more than anything now. And I looked at Asha and her husband – and I wanted what they had “found”. That thing apparently they could not put into words.

So I turned to Preeti and said, “Sure.”

Before I left that night, she asked me some details. I gave it to her. And then we all said our goodbyes, we all squeezed into the elevator going down – it was a very tight squeeze.

And then downstairs, the driver was waiting with the van door open.

I hugged them all. Felt like I was leaving family. And Priya said, “If you were here in a couple of weeks, all of us are going on a vacation together – we would love for you to join us.”

I felt sad. “I wish I could go. I feel like I have known all of you my entire life.”

“Maybe you have,” Preeti answered.

Then Preeti’s husband spoke – he looked like the Indian version of Mr. Big from Sex and the City, “I will take your details you gave to my wife and we will give you the results.”

“You will tell me where my destiny lies?”

The group laughed.

I jumped in the van and the driver closed the door – and we all waved goodbye. On the road in the half empty streets of Pune, India – still buzzing from Fenny laced drinks I emailed Angie Wong.

“The secret to love is an arranged marriage.” And I hit send.

Before I had arrived at the hotel, she had replied, “Then I want an arranged marriage.”

I laughed and stumbled back to my hotel room.

On my last day of class as I was administering tests to my students to see how much they had comprehended from my rambling, Preeti came into my class room.

“Give me thirty minutes of your time before you take the ride back to Bombay. I want to go over your results.”

“From talking to the priest?”

“Yes.” I smiled, “You can just email it.”

Her face looked serious. “No, I cannot email it. It requires some translation.”

I noticed her seriousness and pointed it out by laughing, “Man, the news is that bad?”

She shook her head. “No, its not necessarily bad.” But then she stopped talking.

I understood. “Okay, I will get you before I go.”

The last of the students had thanked me for coming to teach. Some students hung around to ask me some more technical questions. I saw Preeti waiting in the background with her laptop under her arm. Finally, she reminded the last student that I had to catch my ride back to Bombay. He apologized and said thanks and said he would email me more questions later. Then he quickly departed.

Then Preeti took one of the center desks and opened up her laptop.

“First of all, I want to tell you – you don’t have to believe this if you don’t want to. I didn’t believe mine. And I chose my own destiny.”

I shook my head. “Huh? So you didn’t follow your destiny?”

“Your destiny lies.”

“Huh?” “Sometimes your destiny is dynamic – always in motion – but based on the direction you are heading and the people you are heading with – it goes in this direction. Or if you make a decision – a bigger decision – things drastically change.”

“Okay. So give it to me.”

She started reading something on her laptop. “I got this from my husband’s family. He is a matchmaker and priest. We passed on your details.” And she went quiet to start reading. “It seems you are in a relationship – but you’re heart is complicated.”

My smile disappeared. I didn’t say anything.

“So we have two destinies.” And she looked at me. “Is this true?”

“Let me listen first.” I said very matter-of-factly.

Preeti noticed she had touched on a sensitive nerve. She nodded. “Well apparently, one of the women who is complicating your heart means well. You are similar in ages. She makes you laugh. But together you two will have a son. And when he grows older, he will hate you – or you two will fight a lot.”

I remained quiet.

“And…” She paused and tried to collect herself. “She will have extra-martial affairs.”

She turned to look at me. “I am sorry to say this. Remember you don’t have to believe this.”

“I know. Go on.” And I kept my thoughts to myself.

“And there is another woman who everyone knows you love. She has a mouth on her.”

Preeti laughed a little and turned back to see if I was smiling. I broke a grin but went back to being serious. “It means – she has a very angry tongue. And she can cut you down very quickly with her words. If she would watch how she speaks, you two would have a perfect relationship. Because everything with her looks good.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

Preeti looked on the laptop again. “And one more thing, and with her, you have a daughter waiting. And you and your daughter will be very close. She will become the love of your life.”

I was silent.

Preeti shut her laptop. “Remember, you don’t have to believe this.”

“I know.”

Preeti noticed that I was quiet for the first time since I arrived in Pune. “I am very sorry.”

I smiled, “Why are you sorry? You are just telling me the truth.”

“No I am telling you – your destiny based on now.”

I looked past Preeti and stared at the back wall of the classroom. “Or it tells me where my destiny lies.”

Written by GS Jackson, © 2009 LOL Entertainment Group, LLC (USA) Limited (HKG)