39. Karma & Love

A few days after I had sank into a comfortable spot, I was going through all of my things when I came across the parcel Noori’s brother had given to me for her, back in Melbourne.  Opportunity to see her!  

I made my way up to her house and bravely presented Noori with the package.  The family was present and she motioned to me not to speak candidly.  They offered me a cool drink and then the best thing for me to do was return back down the hill.

A little more time passed when Noori began to come around again, to see the family yes, to be of whatever help she could for my mother and sister-in-law, to see me for sure.  I’m most glad she did.  I don’t know what would’ve happened to me if my little angel hadn’t come back and saved me.

She was especially interested to hear about my overseas adventures in Bombay and Melbourne.  News of her brother in Melbourne from someone who saw him in person made her very happy.  And no I didn’t tell on her brother …that he ate pork sausages at breakfast!

You know Noori and I had been the best of friends for a long time now, especially she was there before I even met Hemma and then through the middle of all the Hemma and family problems.  

Noori always made a point (and always without a row) to step aside and let my life take its course.  She consistently assured me she would always be there for me, all the way.  And she was; she did just that.

With the lighter load of my mind and in my heart, I was free to feel myself again.  I dare say, we were falling in love.  Boy oh boy, in reflection does it ever feel as though the space in my young life that was taken up with Hemma time was definitely karmic.  

Experiencing the loss of a child and a heart that played a constant flip-flop; a lonely, almost desperate void. Yeah, I think so.

Noori came in and she loved me wholeheartedly, she took care of me and this allowed me to feel completely at ease and be able to be there for her equally.  I believe this is how it should be.  Sadly I couldn’t be there for her openly in her family’s presence as the Hindu-Muslim thing was still very much in force.  

My family however was very happy with Noori as well.  They noticed the absolute light return to my eyes.  I know this relationship saved my heart, my all, my sanity for what that was worth.

A little time had passed and it was definitely time to speak with a lawyer.  Someone in our circle recommended a well-known attorney in Suva and I immediately set up an appointment to discuss my situation.  I knew I’d best get some good legal advice.  Although sad is the reason, still at least there wouldn’t be a custody battle in all this.  

I arrived alone at 9a sharp the morning of my appointment.  I was invited into his office and met with the lawyer and his paralegal.  They seemed warm and friendly contrary to a lawyer’s most often preceding reputation.  Would it have anything to do with him being a relation by way of marriage?  Who knew, it’s all good, right?

He told me after I sat down, “The floor is yours.  Open up and tell me everything.”

So I began with the beginning; that fateful evening when I was first introduced to Hemma … and her family.  

I told him all I could remember and how it went in my mind.  After they listened to everything, there was a very brief space of silence, a breath or two’s worth and then he said, “Divorce at this time is not possible.  Not right away.  I will file for a legal separation.  And you cannot leave Fiji during the year.”

‘What do you mean, exactly?’ I asked, just a bit taken aback by that remark.  I was still young what did I know?  He went on to explain there had to be time in between just in case there’s a chance of reconciliation.  I already had tried all I would and I knew for certain that wouldn’t happen.   “And we’ll take it from there.”  he finished.

38. Heavy Rains Unburden the Soul – my landscape has been washed clean

No one save for a small handful of my family knew that I had returned to Fiji as it was all quite sudden.  The taxi pulled up in front of my most current Fiji address and I anxiously got out of the car.  My mother and brother-in-law chose to wait for me out there.

I saw Hemma’s father and the two courier pigeons (the younger brothers) building something outside as I walked up through the front yard.  I remember the look on his face as I walked by; it was as though he were staring at a ghost.

I went up the steps and into the house.  I noticed my mother-in-law also looked at me the exact same way.  Now for a moment if one thinks about it, when someone you love returns home after being away for a while, even after the initial shock, wouldn’t you go up to them and greet them lovingly?  I imagine so.

With the mother and sisters sitting upon the sofa in the living room, not a one of them making a move for anything, only jaws dropped down from a clear bombshell, I strolled past them headed straight for my bedroom.

The dining room must be passed to get to the bedroom and boy was it ever my turn for the bombshell.  The handyman was sitting at my table eating a meal.  Now ordinarily this would go one of two ways.

Either he just so happens to be using our dining table to enjoy his lunch break or … he feels he has the right to be there because of a familiar relationship in this family?

So which is it?  

Now I am momentarily speechless.  After two ticks into my sudden shock, here comes my wife out of our bedroom and she stopped in her tracks, a holding pattern in the doorway; her turn for the ultimate shock!

But I went over to her and I hugged her.  ‘Hemma you know, I missed you so very much.’  She returned the hug and I was glad for that.  I fear she was rendered speechless by my presence.  

So I continued speaking.  ‘I wasn’t able to make it to England.  I’ll tell you all about it a little later on.  Please just go and get your things.’  Hemma looked at me in disbelief.

‘We are going to my family house.  My mother is waiting outside in the taxi.’  I further stated.  ‘And by the way what is the handyman doing inside the house?’  Hemma started to cry.  By now the rest of her family came in, to join the reunion party no doubt.  

I turned to gaze at the handyman but he had left the scene.  I returned my eyes to my wife who was now looking desperately at her family -perhaps hoping for direction- so I too turned my attention towards them.  They were whispering among themselves.  

Hemma remained next to me.  I waited a few moments and then I asked her, ‘Are you coming with me now or what?’

She left me where I stood, going to the bedroom and as she was closing the door I quickly blocked it.  I continued to ask her, ‘Why are you doing this to me, didn’t you miss me all this time I was away?’

Hemma replied at last.  “I did.  I missed you a lot.  But please understand, you must stay here with me.”  To which I replied, ‘No.  I’ll never stay with your family again!’  

I kept going, ‘Also tell me why the handyman is alone with you in this part of the house. Your parents should have been in here with him or at the very least you would’ve called to one of your brothers or sisters, don’t you think?’  

Hemma had no response.  Looking at her blank face I collected myself quickly and spat it all out.  ‘Anyway I am going home now.  I never want to speak with you or see you ever again.  Good bye Hemma.  You broke my heart so many times but no more I tell you, I want to be free of you for good.’

Hemma was quiet, she said absolutely nothing nor reacted in any way at all.  I walked through the house and straight out the door to the taxi where my brother-in-law and mother were waiting patiently for me.  

For a moment I felt a tinge of sadness that not one single member of that family said anything to me let alone try to stop me.  I was also unhappy to know that not one of them went to the taxi to see if my mother needed a cool glass of water.

I got into the taxi and took one last look at what my life had come to; no one was even at the window looking out.  Must be karmic.

We began the drive towards home and well, it began to rain.  It rained really hard – how perfectly right.  

My family members were waiting inside to welcome me back home.  After briefly meeting with everyone, I treated myself to a cool leisurely shower and taking cue from the storm, I was hoping to wash away the previous moments of this day.  

Feeling lighter and certainly refreshed I felt it was time for a cocktail and believe me, by late afternoon I was already feeling much better… in so many ways.  I unpacked my suitcases, presented gifts and was encouraged to speak of my adventures.  

I was away from the earlier scene, surrounded by people which I knew cared about me, I felt safe in my family home and I was already learning to let go.

 

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Time was when, the family honor, their respectability was of the utmost importance.  From generations before, propriety was given in all situations.  Among those rules of conduct; never was it appropriate to leave a young lady alone with any man that is not her family member; much less a young married woman whose husband was absent from the scene, wherever they were.  

Decorum simply didn’t leave room for suspicions and doubt.  This applied to the modest families looking to keep refinement.  Hindu culture as a whole (there are always those folks doing things differently …) held steadfast in these beliefs.  No judgement being passed here only making statement of many a culture’s’ way of life.