Too Asian, Not Asian Enough by Kavita Bhanot

Author:Kavita Bhanot [Bhanot, Kavita]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781906994242
Publisher: Atlantic Books Ltd

RESHMA RUIA

Another Life

Twenty-eight years ago, I stopped in Manchester en route to America. It was to see Gupta, an old school friend of mine. He was in the second year of his accountancy degree.

‘Manchester’s small and cosy. It’ll be easy for smart guys like you to make money here. Why don’t you stay on for a bit?’ Gupta said, squeezing my hand. We sat in the bus shelter eating our fish and chips, waiting for the number 215 to Levenshulme, where Gupta rented a one-bed flat. I checked Gupta’s face to see if he meant what he said. His eyes looked lonely. I stared at the sky grey with rain. I stared at the dull huddle of buildings. I said to myself, He’s right. It’ll be easy to shine in a place as gloomy as this.

‘I think I’ll stay on for a bit!’ I slapped his back and said I’d get a job, make some quick money and then carry on to America. I’d feel happier with some English pounds in my pocket.

We were like brothers, Gupta and I those days, sharing rooms, whining about the cold and the thin English girls with their bony thighs, who giggled at our accents but let us squeeze their breasts in the cinema halls.

I turned fifty-five last year.

‘So, when’s the celebration, PK?’ Gupta asked when I met him for a drink after work. ‘Fifty-five’s a big number. You’re getting on, old man,’ he said as he drank his orange juice.

‘It’s only a number,’ I replied, staring at his grey lips sucking in the juice through the straw. ‘There are things I’d still like to do.’

‘Like what? Don’t tell me you’re still banging on about America. You’ve been dreaming about it long enough,’ he said, sneering. I pushed the bowl of peanuts towards him, shrugged and looked around.

It was late afternoon and the Victoria wasn’t busy. A young man in a black biker jacket stood fiddling with the shiny knobs of the fruit machine by the door, while the woman behind the bar chewed gum and polished beer glasses. Her eyes were far away. There was music playing, but it was new stuff that I didn’t recognize.

‘Cheers.’ I finished my beer and got up to buy another. When I came back, Gupta was still waiting for an answer. He was an accountant; he liked to get to the bottom of things.

‘Maybe Geeta’s throwing a surprise party for you or what?’ he said, his face suddenly eager. I got the feeling he’d not been out much lately. He was careful with his pennies.

‘Fat chance,’ I said, lighting a cigarette.‘I’ll be lucky if she remembers. Anyway, what’s the big deal? It’s only a number, and you could always throw a dinner, I’m your oldest friend, after all.’

Gupta waved away my suggestion, saying he had enough bills of his own to start adding more.

‘I think you should hire an American car, an Impala or a soft top, maybe a Chevrolet and visit Scotland. Get away from the business; get away from your family and Geeta’s long face.

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