Nadine was still underage and ineligible to be on the dole. After a few months, Patel dropped a bombshell.
“Nadine, you have to come home, I can’t afford to pay your rent anymore. The new Foodtown just down the road is taking away all my customers and I have to save up for a husband for Smita.”
“Smita! Smita! Smita! All you care is Smita, you don’t love me at all.” In a huff, Nadine slammed the door and left the house.
Patel shook his head, later he told Manchala and Kim, “When Nadine said those words, I felt as if a knife had pierced my heart.”
Manchala and Kim said in unison, “Patel, you have done your best, Nadine could never find a better father than you.”
Nadine told Andy, “My dad kicked me out, I have no where to go.”
“Go to Keita’s place, her parents will let you bunk in with her,”
“How old do you think I am?”
“No more than sixteen! You don’t want me to get into trouble living with an underage kid.”
“I have been officially married with the consensus with my parents. I had a big wedding.”
“Bloody hell! Why didn’t you say so?”
Nadine moved in with Andy in Kingsland. Andy lived for his rugby, fishing, TV and beer. Life was good until Nadine became pregnant within a short time.
“Shit! Shit! Why didn’t you take the f***ing pill? What the f*ck am I going to do, you are just a kid yourself, and you wanted a kid?”
This was when I became her neighbour from across the road. Next to me was a Tongan Island boy Finau. Finau did not work, he had Muldoon and his mother to provide for him. Finau lived with his widowed mother Anapesi who was a very good couturiere.
Every Sunday, Finau and Andy went fishing. It did not matter if they did not catch any fish. It was their boys’ day out. Patel always came with his box of groceries. He made a
short and sweet visit because Andy did not like him to come.
Andy said, “I might be on the dole, but I still have my dignity. I don’t want no charity.”
Nadine had to hide the grocery because if Andy saw them, he threw them out of the window. Sometimes she brought them to my house to hide them from Andy.
Peter, my husband, said, “One day, you might get me into trouble with Andy.”
We had a Ford Escort, it was a rust bucket but Peter was very proud of it.
Every weekend, the boys did their boy things. Andy was out fishing with Finau in Piha. Peter became a grease monkey and tinkled with his banged-up car giving her TLC.
Once I semi-jokingly commented, "What’s the point, it’s an old bomb.”
“Shut up and get out! What do you women know?” I was shocked at Peter’s outburst.
I knew I was relegated to second place, playing second fiddle to an old rusty car that I was embarrassed to be seen riding in.
Nadine and I were two bored and frustrated girls. So we used to pop next door to see Anapesi.
“MÄ�lÅ� e lele,” Anapesi would say in Tongan which means ‘hello’ and she showed us the beautiful dresses and wedding gowns she made for her clients. We tried on her dresses; strutted around like supermodels on the catwalk, made pirouettes like ballet dancers and pretended to be courtesans with feather boas, masks and long black gloves. Nadine wore the wedding dress Anapesi had almost finished making. We had a fun all girls’ time.
We pretended to be Gucci and Yves Saint Laurent. We giggled and gave our expert opinions in exaggerated French accent to Anaspesi how she should make her dresses, “make them shorter, lower cut to give more cleavage, body hugging and make them sexier.” We nagged her to make us a little black dress like Coco Chanel’s little black dress.
Anapesi laughed and said she made dresses for good Polynesian Island girls, not bad gals like us. We hugged and kissed her and called her ‘mummy’ because she only had Finau: we could be the daughters she never had. Anapesi was utterly astounded at our very unladylike ways.
“You Kiwi girls have no modesty, I will die of heart attack if you girls were my daughters.”
“Nadine, why don’t you ask Andy to marry you and you can wear a beautiful white wedding dress.” I suggested cheekily.
“Why not, it is high time he stops his footloose lifestyle and settles down.”
“Even you think so, Anapesi?”
“Yes, I will make a wedding dress for you before your pregnant stomach looks too obvious,” said Anapesi.
The next day, Nadine came with a swollen lip and she kissed goodbye to a tooth. I knew it was my fault for suggesting that she wore that white wedding dress.
Andy pulled her long hair and yelled, “Remember this, you bloody moved in to shag me. Now you want to wear a virginal white wedding dress? You shameless cow!” Then he slammed the door and did not come back that night.
I didn’t know what to make of this Nadine and Andy liaison. If Andy was home, he and his mates sat downstairs in the garage, drank beer, played the guitar and watched TV. The witches at Keita’s brother’s party were always there behaving shamelessly even in front of Nadine. They always called ‘Andy love’ and ‘Andy honey’ which made me want to puke.
One day, Nadine came and she had a black eye. Andy did this to her, she said.
“Andy got sent to the sin bin a lot when he plays rugby. Then he comes back in a foul mood, and at a drop of the hat, he lands a blow on me,” said Nadine.
I asked, “Is he always so violent?”
Nadine said,” No, he was ‘lovey-dovey’ when I first moved in. It got worst when I got pregnant, I did not want to sleep with him. He did not understand when a woman is pregnant, sometimes she wants to sleep alone. Andy wants to bloody shag me all the time. You won’t understand, you have never been pregnant.”
I asked, “Why don’t you leave then?”
She replied, “I can’t leave him. I’ve got no money, and my dad is adamant that he has no more money for me.”
I said, genuinely, as Peter had cautioned me not to get involved, “I am sorry for your predicament and am sorry I can’t help you.”
Tragedy struck. One day Andy and Finau were fishing off Piha beach. A gale wind suddenly blew: both of them had no life jackets. The wind howled, the sky darkened, big rain drops pelted on them like stones, the waves crashed against the boat, the boat overturned and sank. Miraculously Andy used his last ounce of energy and swam back to the shore: he was dogged tired when he ran for help.
Finau was never found that afternoon. Later they found his limp and bruised body among the rocks. Finau’s bereaved mother tore at Andy, and cursed him. Finau’s uncles had to hold her back. Andy just stood there quietly as if he wanted Anapesi to rant and rage and even beat him. We were surprised that Anapesi swore, she was such a well-mannered and gentle woman. Maybe she learnt it from us.
Andy came home and took it out on Nadine. She feared for her own life and the baby’s. She locked her self in the bedroom, but he kicked the door open. Nadine felt like a trapped fox in a fox hunt, and there was no way she could claw her way out of the danger that Andy was posing. Blow after blow he rained on her, until she pleaded that he was killing the baby.
“It’s all you bloody fault, Finau my mate and I had been fishing for years, and nothing ever happened, and now you f***ing cow move in and I lost my best mate.” Andy slammed the door and didn’t come back for two days until it was Finau’s funeral.
The Tongan community had a funeral at Finau’s house, and they buried him in Waikumate cemetery. Andy was full of remorse. Finau’s mother banned him from attending the funeral and burial. Andy sat at the garage overlooking Finau’s house drinking Lion Beer, Finau’s favourite beer. His empty bottles crashed and ended up a million brown glass crystals and broken shards on the driveway. He was still there when Anapesi came back from the cemetery. The kind natured Anapesi went over across the road, she removed the empty beer bottle from Andy’s hand and told him to go back inside the house. She told him she knew it wasn’t exactly his fault.
“Go back to the house, I am sorry I screamed at you,”
Andy got moody and depressed and beat Nadine more often. Sundays were worst, because he’d got no mate to go fishing with.
We had a telephone, but Nadine did not. So often she came to my place to use the phone to call her girlfriends. She spent hours on the phone and Andy would come to my door and knock. Andy didn’t come in the door. He was not rude to us. If you didn’t know him, he was a perfect gentleman.
“Nadine, I got some grub for you, or Nadine I got some fish and chips. The baby needs to eat even if you don’t.”
Nadine did not have a good time being pregnant. Every morning she opened the window and vomited down to the bed of calla lilies. She told me she got no time to rush to the bathroom. Andy howled at her,
“You lazy bitch!”
I joked, “Never mind, they are natural fertilizer, no wonder your calla lilies are so beautiful.”
Peter was a student then, and our car was home. Nadine came to call a taxi to take her to St Helen’s hospital to have her baby. Andy was nowhere to be seen, the taxi did not come. Nadine was in pain.
“Where’s the f***ing taxi?”
“Are you alright? Shall I take you to the hospital?” asked Peter.
So Peter drove her to St Helens. At St Helens, the nurse mistook Peter for the baby’s father and encouraged him to go in with Nadine, because Nadine needed him. Peter tried to explain that he was not the baby’s father. The nurse thought he was afraid of childbirth.
The nurse said, “You will be fine, most fathers stay with the mother.”
Nadine looked earnestly at Peter, “Please?”
Peter said, “Sorry, Nadine, Robyn might not be happy and Andy might misunderstand.”
Peter came home and related the funny incident, I laughed. I teased him that he was a father.
Peter said, “I suspect Nadine did not call for the taxi, she had intended for me to drive her to St Helen right from the start.”
I asked, “How did you know?”
He replied, “The nurse asked if she had any money or valuables to put in the locker, she said she had none.”
I laughed again,” So you played the role of a gallant hero who saved a damsel in distress?”
Andy did not visit Nadine and the baby in hospital. Nadine came home to Kingsland with her baby girl, Amanda. Patel drove them home with Smita. Amanda was a beautiful part Maori part Indian girl. Andy wasn’t home during the first week.
On Sunday Kim and Manchala came with pink baby things. Manchala and her girls had knitted matinee jackets, booties, mittens, blankets, leggings, bonnets. Nadine was so happy that her two Pukekohe aunties had overlooked that she was an unmarried mother.
Kim was very clucky as though she was the real grandmother, “I am very happy to be a Chinese Grandmother to Amanda, here is a little yellow Chinese gold bangle. All Chinese grandmothers give their grandchildren bangles. Next time, Amanda will in turn give bangle to her baby.”
Nadine was seething - Where the hell was Chandra?
Chandra still refused to see Nadine or Amanda.
Nadine said, “I don’t need her. She will regret this for the rest of her life.”
One day, Nadine came to tell me, “Bugger it, do not tell Andy, I am calling it quits and leaving him, I will be far away from him. I am now on domestic purpose benefit. I do not need his money. I do not need my father’s money. I am a solo mother.”
Nadine moved away with Amanda.
Andy came, looking remorseful, to Anapesi and me, “Have you seen Nadine?”
Anapesi said, “Forget her, don’t look for her, she only wanted a baby so she can get a domestic purpose benefit.”
“F***ing cow!!! I should have known.”
Initially I used to go to Patel’s dairy to ask how she and Amanda were.
Patel sadly said, “We do not keep in contact. She did not even come to Smita’s wedding.”
I had a short stint in Singapore as an expatriate wife. I befriended many Indian ladies. I was surprised that most of them had arranged marriages. What was more intriguing was some of these women also arranged marriages for their daughters who grew up in Singapore. I had many discussions with them and they extolled the advantages of arranged marriages. I came back to Auckland and lived in Sandringham: this suburb is dubbed “Little India” of Auckland. One Sunday after the Farmer’s Parade in Queen Street, I was sitting next to two young teenage Indian girls at Burger King. They would have been the age at which Nadine married Gopal. I boldly interrupted them and asked if they would agree to their mothers’ proposal for them to be arranged to marry boys they did not know.
“NO WAY!!!!”
The three of us laughed. I thought of poor Nadine.
Showing posts with label nadine. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nadine. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Nadine, Chapter thirteen
Nadine's arranged marriage to Indian National Gopal fails. One day Gopal came home drunk as a skunk. He demanded sex and Nadine refused. He pulled Nadine's long jet black hair and forced himself on her.
"I will report you for raping me," yelled Nadine.
Gopal swored, "You bitch, a husband does not rape his wife, in India, a man can have sex with his wife anytime he wants.
Nadine spat at him and threw a beer bottle at him. It landed on his forehead and caused a deep gash and blood flowed profusely.
Nadine screamed like a banshee,"You are not in India, you are in New Zealand."
Gopal held on to his bleeding head," Look what you have done, I can sue you for attempting to murder me. So we are even stevens." With a loud slam of the door, Gopal left.
One day, Keita invited Nadine to her brother Billy’s twenty first birthday bash at their father’s house in Papatoetoe. They were having a traditional Maori hangi. Nadine had never been to a hangi before and she was excited to go. She went home and piled and lots of make up to make her look older. There was plenty of scrumptious food from the hangi: pig, lamb, steak, chicken, potatoes, kumaras, vegetables, puha, raw fish, and five different kinds of dessert. Beer was flowing and hips were gyrating to the blaring music. She drank so much booze that she felt uninhibited and she let her hair down.
Standing at the corner with a bottle of DB beer in his hand was her tall, dark and handsome prince. She spied him in a tight open-necked black and grey striped shirt exposing a broad chest and a thick silver chain necklace.
She strutted over in her four inch stilettos and said, “Kia Ora! handsome, want to dance?”
“No, I just want to drink.”
Nadine took a swig from his bottle, “I am Nadine, love.”
Perhaps it was the drink, perhaps it was nervousness, whatever it was, it made her gabble and crack facetious comments. Andy wasn’t responding to her, and continued to nurse his bottle of booze.
“You want something girl, go get it. It is that simple,” then Nadine remembered a girl friend telling her.
That was how Nadine met Andy and how she went to get him.
“I think you must be irresistible in bed,” Nadine whispered huskily.
Andy was an alpha male Maori guy with big fuzzy hair like Michael Jackson when Michael Jackson was still singing with his brothers. He was six feet tall, handsome and cocky and very sure of himself and a smooth talker. He had just broken off a relationship with a girl who was getting too serious and wanted to get married. Nope, Andy was the boss of himself, he wanted no woman to tie him down.
There were sparks and love in the air, at least for Nadine. Nadine put her arms round Andy and her hands proceeded to travel down south as she slipped her hands into his tight jeans and squeezed his bum. Sensing Andy’s quietness and lack of response, she let her wondering hands and fingers do the talking. She knew she succeeded when Andy eventually responded and they danced a slow and dirty dance, just enjoying their warm body contact. More booze and more gyrating, they kissed. Andy put his hands up Nadine’s skirt, and Nadine did not push it away. Instead she encouraged him and whispered sweet nothings to his ear. Aroused, Andy whispered something into Nadine’s ear. Nadine laughed and they went out and made out at the back seat of someone’s Ford Falcon. Nadine was at seventh heaven and wished this would never end.
But early next morning, Nadine tossed and turned like laundry in a wringer machine lying on an airbed of the floor of Keita’s tiny and messy bedroom. It didn’t help when Keita’s snores were like a steam train engine. Nadine thought of the wonderful evening until those shit older girls or, in Nadine’s eyes, older witches came along.
Nadine had Andy all to herself when those witches came and said, “Come Andy love, time to go to Pink Pussy Cat for our special present for the birthday boy.”
All the boys laughed and headed for the cars.
Nadine said, “Wait for me.”
The witches turned bitches said, “You stay put, we are not babysitters.”
“Babysitters!!!” Nadine hated that word.
Her eyes shot daggers at the witches as she turned to say something to them, then Keita told her they were not worth the effort. Besides it was Keita’s brother’s big day. They don’t want no fights. The vision of Andy assailed Nadine repeatedly and last night’s turn of events kept going like rewinding a video tape over and over again. In the morning, she decided she was going to be Andy’s girl. She knew naught about him, but she did not care. Her parents made her marry Gopal who was a complete stranger.
The next morning, Nadine pestered Keita for Andy’s telephone number.
“You have to pay for it.”
“How much ? I am broke.”
“I like the pair of drop earrings and some cash. You can pawn some of your wedding jewellery.”
“That’s a deal, now, what is his number?”
“Andy doesn’t have a phone; you can go on Saturday when Billy and the boys play rugby. Andy plays too.”
To the boys, Nadine hung around like a puppy dog running errands. But to Nadine, these were the best days of her life.
"I will report you for raping me," yelled Nadine.
Gopal swored, "You bitch, a husband does not rape his wife, in India, a man can have sex with his wife anytime he wants.
Nadine spat at him and threw a beer bottle at him. It landed on his forehead and caused a deep gash and blood flowed profusely.
Nadine screamed like a banshee,"You are not in India, you are in New Zealand."
Gopal held on to his bleeding head," Look what you have done, I can sue you for attempting to murder me. So we are even stevens." With a loud slam of the door, Gopal left.
One day, Keita invited Nadine to her brother Billy’s twenty first birthday bash at their father’s house in Papatoetoe. They were having a traditional Maori hangi. Nadine had never been to a hangi before and she was excited to go. She went home and piled and lots of make up to make her look older. There was plenty of scrumptious food from the hangi: pig, lamb, steak, chicken, potatoes, kumaras, vegetables, puha, raw fish, and five different kinds of dessert. Beer was flowing and hips were gyrating to the blaring music. She drank so much booze that she felt uninhibited and she let her hair down.
Standing at the corner with a bottle of DB beer in his hand was her tall, dark and handsome prince. She spied him in a tight open-necked black and grey striped shirt exposing a broad chest and a thick silver chain necklace.
She strutted over in her four inch stilettos and said, “Kia Ora! handsome, want to dance?”
“No, I just want to drink.”
Nadine took a swig from his bottle, “I am Nadine, love.”
Perhaps it was the drink, perhaps it was nervousness, whatever it was, it made her gabble and crack facetious comments. Andy wasn’t responding to her, and continued to nurse his bottle of booze.
“You want something girl, go get it. It is that simple,” then Nadine remembered a girl friend telling her.
That was how Nadine met Andy and how she went to get him.
“I think you must be irresistible in bed,” Nadine whispered huskily.
Andy was an alpha male Maori guy with big fuzzy hair like Michael Jackson when Michael Jackson was still singing with his brothers. He was six feet tall, handsome and cocky and very sure of himself and a smooth talker. He had just broken off a relationship with a girl who was getting too serious and wanted to get married. Nope, Andy was the boss of himself, he wanted no woman to tie him down.
There were sparks and love in the air, at least for Nadine. Nadine put her arms round Andy and her hands proceeded to travel down south as she slipped her hands into his tight jeans and squeezed his bum. Sensing Andy’s quietness and lack of response, she let her wondering hands and fingers do the talking. She knew she succeeded when Andy eventually responded and they danced a slow and dirty dance, just enjoying their warm body contact. More booze and more gyrating, they kissed. Andy put his hands up Nadine’s skirt, and Nadine did not push it away. Instead she encouraged him and whispered sweet nothings to his ear. Aroused, Andy whispered something into Nadine’s ear. Nadine laughed and they went out and made out at the back seat of someone’s Ford Falcon. Nadine was at seventh heaven and wished this would never end.
But early next morning, Nadine tossed and turned like laundry in a wringer machine lying on an airbed of the floor of Keita’s tiny and messy bedroom. It didn’t help when Keita’s snores were like a steam train engine. Nadine thought of the wonderful evening until those shit older girls or, in Nadine’s eyes, older witches came along.
Nadine had Andy all to herself when those witches came and said, “Come Andy love, time to go to Pink Pussy Cat for our special present for the birthday boy.”
All the boys laughed and headed for the cars.
Nadine said, “Wait for me.”
The witches turned bitches said, “You stay put, we are not babysitters.”
“Babysitters!!!” Nadine hated that word.
Her eyes shot daggers at the witches as she turned to say something to them, then Keita told her they were not worth the effort. Besides it was Keita’s brother’s big day. They don’t want no fights. The vision of Andy assailed Nadine repeatedly and last night’s turn of events kept going like rewinding a video tape over and over again. In the morning, she decided she was going to be Andy’s girl. She knew naught about him, but she did not care. Her parents made her marry Gopal who was a complete stranger.
The next morning, Nadine pestered Keita for Andy’s telephone number.
“You have to pay for it.”
“How much ? I am broke.”
“I like the pair of drop earrings and some cash. You can pawn some of your wedding jewellery.”
“That’s a deal, now, what is his number?”
“Andy doesn’t have a phone; you can go on Saturday when Billy and the boys play rugby. Andy plays too.”
To the boys, Nadine hung around like a puppy dog running errands. But to Nadine, these were the best days of her life.
Nadine, Chapter twelve
Patel rented an old unit at Scanlan Street for Nadine and Gopal so they would not be too far from him. It was less than ten minutes walk away. Gopal did not work, he did not have to. He stayed at home and drank and watched TV. He only had a smattering of English conversation lessons in his village school, and he refused to speak English because he said the Kiwis laughed at him every time he opened his mouth. Nadine pretended she did not pick up any Hindi during her short stint in Gujerat.
Gopal’s repertoire of words was ‘bullshit’, ‘f*** you’ and ‘shut up’.
There was hardly any conversation between Nadine and Gopal.
Communication breakdown,
It’s always the same,
I’m having a nervous breakdown,
Drive me insane!
Both were singing the same song until the situated ruptured. Gopal became violent and he beat up Nadine. At times, he locked her up because she disgraced him, he said. He did not like her to go out with her unruly girlfriends; he did not like them to come to the house. He said, girls in India were gentle, demure and never talked back to their husbands. Nadine was, as far as he was concerned, a bride from hell. Her friends were bitches and witches and they had no respect for him. This would never happen in India. He was ashamed of her when his friends came and watched cricket on TV.
Patel could not do anything because it was a disgrace to an Indian father if his daughter was not a good wife. Patel pleaded to Gopal to treat Nadine better or to leave since he did not love her.
Gopal said, “I will leave when I am good and ready. Don’t forget, you cheated me and married a non-virgin daughter to me. Besides, she is a cold bitch. You can see for yourself: in India, most wives would have been pregnant long ago. But no, your slut thinks she is too good to sleep with me.”
Poor Patel did not know that Gopal had come with an agenda. Gopal had no intention of making Nadine his wife permanently. He only wanted to come to live in New Zealand. Marrying Nadine was his ticket to come here. He just had to tolerate this wild girl until he got his permanent residence. Meanwhile he was enjoying a Kiwi life-style of booze and cricket and being a couch potato, watching all sorts of TV. He was provided with free food and lodging courtesy his father-in-law. He liked sex and domineering over Nadine. The more she resisted him, the better he enjoyed it.
Gopal imagined he was sleeping with the popular Tina Munium, the Hindi star of movie “Karz” since he did not like Nadine and Nadine did not like him. He would not move out because the Department of Labour, just up the road at Great North Road, was sending officers to monitor to see that his was not a marriage of convenience. In the interview when he applied to come to New Zealand, the officer had grilled him and kept asking if his marriage was a marriage of convenience, since he did not even know Nadine and Patel.
Once Gopal got his PR, he up and went with his pocket lined with the fat dowry Patel had given him to be his son-in-law. In no time, he found another wife, a Fiji born Indian girl, Shanti.
Shanti’s social visit pass to New Zealand had expired and she was an overstayer. She desperately wanted to live in New Zealand and thanked her karma that Gopal wanted to marry her. She was even contented to marry a Maori or a Cook Islander for a ticket to stay in Auckland. What Gopal did not realize was that the table had turned. Shanti was planning the same trick to play on him as he had played on Nadine. What an irony, Dinesh was waiting in Suva for Shanti to be legal in New Zealand.
Nadine could not wait for Gopal to leave. Thankfully her friends had taken her to the family planning clinic at K Road for her contraceptive pills which she painstakingly took to make sure there were no little Gopal satans to complicate their lives.
When Gopal left, Patel told Nadine that she could come home. It was not safe or nice for a girl to be living by herself. Nadine did not want to come home; Chandra did not want her back. She stayed on at Scanlan Street. Patel was devastated but he continued to see her on Sundays and give her grocery and pocket money and pay her rent
Gopal’s repertoire of words was ‘bullshit’, ‘f*** you’ and ‘shut up’.
There was hardly any conversation between Nadine and Gopal.
Communication breakdown,
It’s always the same,
I’m having a nervous breakdown,
Drive me insane!
Both were singing the same song until the situated ruptured. Gopal became violent and he beat up Nadine. At times, he locked her up because she disgraced him, he said. He did not like her to go out with her unruly girlfriends; he did not like them to come to the house. He said, girls in India were gentle, demure and never talked back to their husbands. Nadine was, as far as he was concerned, a bride from hell. Her friends were bitches and witches and they had no respect for him. This would never happen in India. He was ashamed of her when his friends came and watched cricket on TV.
Patel could not do anything because it was a disgrace to an Indian father if his daughter was not a good wife. Patel pleaded to Gopal to treat Nadine better or to leave since he did not love her.
Gopal said, “I will leave when I am good and ready. Don’t forget, you cheated me and married a non-virgin daughter to me. Besides, she is a cold bitch. You can see for yourself: in India, most wives would have been pregnant long ago. But no, your slut thinks she is too good to sleep with me.”
Poor Patel did not know that Gopal had come with an agenda. Gopal had no intention of making Nadine his wife permanently. He only wanted to come to live in New Zealand. Marrying Nadine was his ticket to come here. He just had to tolerate this wild girl until he got his permanent residence. Meanwhile he was enjoying a Kiwi life-style of booze and cricket and being a couch potato, watching all sorts of TV. He was provided with free food and lodging courtesy his father-in-law. He liked sex and domineering over Nadine. The more she resisted him, the better he enjoyed it.
Gopal imagined he was sleeping with the popular Tina Munium, the Hindi star of movie “Karz” since he did not like Nadine and Nadine did not like him. He would not move out because the Department of Labour, just up the road at Great North Road, was sending officers to monitor to see that his was not a marriage of convenience. In the interview when he applied to come to New Zealand, the officer had grilled him and kept asking if his marriage was a marriage of convenience, since he did not even know Nadine and Patel.
Once Gopal got his PR, he up and went with his pocket lined with the fat dowry Patel had given him to be his son-in-law. In no time, he found another wife, a Fiji born Indian girl, Shanti.
Shanti’s social visit pass to New Zealand had expired and she was an overstayer. She desperately wanted to live in New Zealand and thanked her karma that Gopal wanted to marry her. She was even contented to marry a Maori or a Cook Islander for a ticket to stay in Auckland. What Gopal did not realize was that the table had turned. Shanti was planning the same trick to play on him as he had played on Nadine. What an irony, Dinesh was waiting in Suva for Shanti to be legal in New Zealand.
Nadine could not wait for Gopal to leave. Thankfully her friends had taken her to the family planning clinic at K Road for her contraceptive pills which she painstakingly took to make sure there were no little Gopal satans to complicate their lives.
When Gopal left, Patel told Nadine that she could come home. It was not safe or nice for a girl to be living by herself. Nadine did not want to come home; Chandra did not want her back. She stayed on at Scanlan Street. Patel was devastated but he continued to see her on Sundays and give her grocery and pocket money and pay her rent
Nadine, Chapter eleven
Once back in Auckland, Nadine went to look for her girlfriends in their favourite haunts. She was glad to be back in civilization again.
“Hi girls, I am back!”
Her girl friends felt sheepish that they had been so mean and treated her badly.
Starved from their friendship, in a nonchalant manner, Nadine said, “All is forgiven and forgotten.”
“What was it like?” her friends asked.
“I had the most wonderful overseas holiday. I went to Singapore and to Delhi to visit the Taj Mahal.” Nadine said gaily, lying through her teeth. She did not want her friends to know she had had a stinking time in the village and she had never set foot in the two places she claimed she went.
“How were the boys?”
“They were so cool! I had so many boys that you will be green with envy.”
Nadine had not learnt her lesson or repented her ways. Instead she was determined to punish Chandra for sending her to her Armageddon. She was back with a vengeance. She wanted to make Chandra wish that she had never been born. Somehow, in her little brain, she was fixated that it was all Chandra’s idea and fault that Nadine was packed off to India. Patel only carried out Chandra’s instruction. Night upon night, she did not come home. If she did, she came home very late and she wanted to make Chandra’s life to be like shit.
“It’s payback time,” she said to Chandra.
Chandra and Patel made their second mistake.
“Maybe if she had a husband, she would grow up.”
They asked his Bal to arrange for a boy to come from India to be her husband. They would pay for his air ticket and give him a good dowry. In the village, Nadine had left a reputation of being a wild girl and slept with any boy who wanted to sleep with her. No village boy would want such a girl to be his wife.
But mysteriously, Gopal did. When he came, he assured Patel and Chandra that he would love and cherish Nadine. There was a fine wedding, and Patel invited his Indian friends from Pukekohe. Even Chandra appeared happy, she loved the beautiful sari that Patel brought back for her and now she had a chance to wear it. She was hoping that was the last she would see of Nadine.
Nadine was asked to wear a very expensive red wedding sari with gold thread trimmings. Nadine had never worn a sari in her life.
“I have never worn a sari and I am not about to wear one now,” she swore.
Manchala persuaded her to put it on and that she would make Patel a very happy father even if she did not care for Gopal. Manchala’s skilful hands wrapped the blazing gold red sari around Nadine. Then she fixed a big safety pin among the folds of the sari and clipped it to the petticoat near her navel.
“See, in this way your sari would not drop off.” said Manchala.
On Nadine’s left shoulder, Manchala pinned a gold brooch studded with rubies so the pallu would stay in place.
“The pallu is the open end of the sari, during the wedding, you will use it to drape it modestly over your head,” said Manchala.
Nadine’s girlfriends came to join in the fun to make Nadine the most beautiful Indian bride in Auckland. They painted red and white bindi, little dots all round her eyes following the instruction from Manchala. They dyed modern henna designs on her hands, feet and legs and they had a good laugh. Nadine was their Nouveau Indian bride, after all, she was a true born Kiwi. Patel gave Nadine were a big box of jewellery. The girls gawked at the beauty they had created. Nadine had a nose ring attached to a chain that went to her ears. It was such a beautiful picture that even Nadine was getting to like being a bride.
Manchala gave her a good prep talk. “Nadine, I wish it was your mother who is doing the talking. As an auntie who had known you since you were a baby, you are like a daughter to me. As of this day, you are Gopal’s wife. Listen to him like all Indian wives listen to their husbands.”
Nadine rolled her eyes and struck out her middle finger behind her back to her friends.
Kim came and gave her a pair of yellow Chinese gold bangles, “Nadine, my mother gave this to me, since I got no daughter of my own or daughters-in-law to give to, now as your Chinese mother, I give this to you.” They hugged for a long time and Kim’s eyes were misty.
Deep in Manchala and Kim’s heavy hearts, they questioned if this was right for Nadine. Both older ladies were arranged to be married to their husbands. They came all the way from India and China. They did not know their husbands before but they grew to love Prem and Ah Fook. They had a nagging feeling that this was not going to work for Nadine.
During the ceremony the priest put a sacred rope around Gopal’s and Nadine’s necks. They were now married!
The priest then instructed, “Gopal, you walk first, then Nadine, Gopal you lead Nadine, and Nadine, you follow Gopal. This is very important for Nadine to be subservient to Gopal.”
Nadine was appalled, she had not settled for this. She couldn’t back out and make a scene, not in front of all Dad’s friends. She was like a trapped animal. Gopal kept tugging the rope, she had no choice but to follow him. This old fashion Hindu custom was like a noose to her neck. Patel heaved a sigh of relief. His willful daughter was at last married, and he did not have to worry about her anymore.
“Hi girls, I am back!”
Her girl friends felt sheepish that they had been so mean and treated her badly.
Starved from their friendship, in a nonchalant manner, Nadine said, “All is forgiven and forgotten.”
“What was it like?” her friends asked.
“I had the most wonderful overseas holiday. I went to Singapore and to Delhi to visit the Taj Mahal.” Nadine said gaily, lying through her teeth. She did not want her friends to know she had had a stinking time in the village and she had never set foot in the two places she claimed she went.
“How were the boys?”
“They were so cool! I had so many boys that you will be green with envy.”
Nadine had not learnt her lesson or repented her ways. Instead she was determined to punish Chandra for sending her to her Armageddon. She was back with a vengeance. She wanted to make Chandra wish that she had never been born. Somehow, in her little brain, she was fixated that it was all Chandra’s idea and fault that Nadine was packed off to India. Patel only carried out Chandra’s instruction. Night upon night, she did not come home. If she did, she came home very late and she wanted to make Chandra’s life to be like shit.
“It’s payback time,” she said to Chandra.
Chandra and Patel made their second mistake.
“Maybe if she had a husband, she would grow up.”
They asked his Bal to arrange for a boy to come from India to be her husband. They would pay for his air ticket and give him a good dowry. In the village, Nadine had left a reputation of being a wild girl and slept with any boy who wanted to sleep with her. No village boy would want such a girl to be his wife.
But mysteriously, Gopal did. When he came, he assured Patel and Chandra that he would love and cherish Nadine. There was a fine wedding, and Patel invited his Indian friends from Pukekohe. Even Chandra appeared happy, she loved the beautiful sari that Patel brought back for her and now she had a chance to wear it. She was hoping that was the last she would see of Nadine.
Nadine was asked to wear a very expensive red wedding sari with gold thread trimmings. Nadine had never worn a sari in her life.
“I have never worn a sari and I am not about to wear one now,” she swore.
Manchala persuaded her to put it on and that she would make Patel a very happy father even if she did not care for Gopal. Manchala’s skilful hands wrapped the blazing gold red sari around Nadine. Then she fixed a big safety pin among the folds of the sari and clipped it to the petticoat near her navel.
“See, in this way your sari would not drop off.” said Manchala.
On Nadine’s left shoulder, Manchala pinned a gold brooch studded with rubies so the pallu would stay in place.
“The pallu is the open end of the sari, during the wedding, you will use it to drape it modestly over your head,” said Manchala.
Nadine’s girlfriends came to join in the fun to make Nadine the most beautiful Indian bride in Auckland. They painted red and white bindi, little dots all round her eyes following the instruction from Manchala. They dyed modern henna designs on her hands, feet and legs and they had a good laugh. Nadine was their Nouveau Indian bride, after all, she was a true born Kiwi. Patel gave Nadine were a big box of jewellery. The girls gawked at the beauty they had created. Nadine had a nose ring attached to a chain that went to her ears. It was such a beautiful picture that even Nadine was getting to like being a bride.
Manchala gave her a good prep talk. “Nadine, I wish it was your mother who is doing the talking. As an auntie who had known you since you were a baby, you are like a daughter to me. As of this day, you are Gopal’s wife. Listen to him like all Indian wives listen to their husbands.”
Nadine rolled her eyes and struck out her middle finger behind her back to her friends.
Kim came and gave her a pair of yellow Chinese gold bangles, “Nadine, my mother gave this to me, since I got no daughter of my own or daughters-in-law to give to, now as your Chinese mother, I give this to you.” They hugged for a long time and Kim’s eyes were misty.
Deep in Manchala and Kim’s heavy hearts, they questioned if this was right for Nadine. Both older ladies were arranged to be married to their husbands. They came all the way from India and China. They did not know their husbands before but they grew to love Prem and Ah Fook. They had a nagging feeling that this was not going to work for Nadine.
During the ceremony the priest put a sacred rope around Gopal’s and Nadine’s necks. They were now married!
The priest then instructed, “Gopal, you walk first, then Nadine, Gopal you lead Nadine, and Nadine, you follow Gopal. This is very important for Nadine to be subservient to Gopal.”
Nadine was appalled, she had not settled for this. She couldn’t back out and make a scene, not in front of all Dad’s friends. She was like a trapped animal. Gopal kept tugging the rope, she had no choice but to follow him. This old fashion Hindu custom was like a noose to her neck. Patel heaved a sigh of relief. His willful daughter was at last married, and he did not have to worry about her anymore.
Nadine, Chapter ten
At wits end, Patel decides to send her to India. Two days later, Patel came home with two airline tickets, one a round trip and one a one way ticket. Patel would personally accompany Nadine home to India. She would go to school and stay with his cousin brother Bal and his wife Sudha and family in Gujerat. Patel said it was for the best for Nadine. It was tough love, but if he did not do it, Nadine would end up in prison. Nadine was shocked by Patel’s decisive action. Never before in her life had Patel said no to her. Nadine appealed to Chandra but she was vehement that she should go. This was the first time Chandra had anything to do with Nadine’s discipline.
Chandra said, “Haven’t you shamed the family enough?”
Patel and Nadine flew from Auckland International Airport, transited at Changi Airport in Singapore. Then they arrived in India, and took a long train ride and then a rickety bus ride for two days.
When Nadine and Patel arrived at his brother Bal’s village, it was like going back in a time machine or a "time-space warp". Patel had not been back to the village for thirty years, and nothing had changed. It was cruel to Nadine who grew up in New Zealand to have to live in the back waters of a rural Indian village with no electricity and water supply. It was a big culture shock for Nadine.
“How am I going to survive with no McDonalds or fish and chips?” cried Nadine.
“What am I going to go with no TV?” she bawled.
To make things worse, Bal and Sudha were vegetarian, and they ate a lot of dhal curries. Sudha was determined to keep her charge in tow. She promised Patel that she would make a fine Indian lady out of Nadine. She herself had two well-adjusted and obedient girls. Nadine was subdued when Patel was around.
“My girls will teach her to be a refined Indian girl. They are very good.” assured Sudha.
Trouble was festering, the moment Patel had left for New Zealand, Nadine started playing up. There was no way the aunt could do anything. Nadine was defiant in school, she taught her cousins foul language and rude signs and gestures that they had never heard or seen before. There were rumours going round that she was sleeping with the village boys. The boys were having a field day with this wild girl from New Zealand who let them do things to her that no village girls would do. She became very popular with the boys.
The village school master came to Nadine’s aunt and told her that the school would not tolerate Nadine’s bad behavior.
Nadine was a delinquent, lied and stole, and habitually played truant. She disrespected her teachers and did not do her homework and failed in all her examinations. It had come to the point where she was bad influence on the school children. The kids started skipping classes and slacking like her. The parents were started complaining to him.
“If Nadine does not change, I am afraid I will have to ask her to leave.” said the school master.
This was exactly what Nadine had wanted to hear. She persisted in her bad conduct. Nobody knew it was her secret strategy to get kicked out of the village and be sent home to New Zealand. Nadine’s plans were working, she was very proud of herself.
In a week, the school master came again. Nadine was harassing and verbally abusing the teachers. She threw a blackboard duster at one of the teachers who told her to erase the board. The teacher had a big gash in her forehead when the metal part of the eraser landed like a missile. A lot of blood oozed from the wound.
The school master said, “I had to personally take the teacher to the next town on my motorcycle to be attended to. Even my shirt was bloodied at the back. Now the teacher has more than ten stitches. She was lucky she was not blinded in the eye because the gash was so near to it.”
“Nadine did not show any repentance or remorse. Now, I am sorry I will have to ask Nadine to leave, no buts, she was lucky the teacher did not want to press charges or ask for compensation for medical fees,” said the school master.
When Bal came home, Sudha told him what the school master said, they had a quiet conference and agreed that Nadine was a big bad influence on their two girls and she was giving Bal’s family a bad reputation.
“That is it, tomorrow you go back to New Zealand,” said Bal.
Nadine said, “Not soon enough, I have been here too long.”
Nadine whooped with joy, she even danced the Maori Haka and stuck her tongue out, much to the chagrin of her uncle and aunt. Her cousins were disappointed their wild spirited cousin was leaving. She brought colour to their otherwise drab lives in the village. The boys were sad that she was leaving but sighed with a relief knowing all good things had to end: they knew they were walking on eggs and could have made her pregnant. Then they would be in deep trouble as nobody would want her as a wife. The school master was glad to see the last of this wild girl who had caused so much havoc to his docile school. Most anxious to see her go, however, were her Sudha aunty and uncle Bal. They were resigned to the fact that they had taken too much on their plate and had failed miserably. They pitied their cousin Patel when Nadine arrived back to New Zealand. Her experience in India had back fired and made her worst then what she was before.
They could not get a ticket straight away. Bal was afraid that Nadine would run away. Bal’s village house did not have locks. He went to the village shop and bought a big padlock and the biggest old fashion galvanised shoot bolt lock. He fixed it on the outside of the girls’ bedroom door. They locked Nadine in the bedroom for a week. They let Nadine out only when she needed to go to the bathroom.
Nadine shouted and cursed, “I hate you!”
Chandra said, “Haven’t you shamed the family enough?”
Patel and Nadine flew from Auckland International Airport, transited at Changi Airport in Singapore. Then they arrived in India, and took a long train ride and then a rickety bus ride for two days.
When Nadine and Patel arrived at his brother Bal’s village, it was like going back in a time machine or a "time-space warp". Patel had not been back to the village for thirty years, and nothing had changed. It was cruel to Nadine who grew up in New Zealand to have to live in the back waters of a rural Indian village with no electricity and water supply. It was a big culture shock for Nadine.
“How am I going to survive with no McDonalds or fish and chips?” cried Nadine.
“What am I going to go with no TV?” she bawled.
To make things worse, Bal and Sudha were vegetarian, and they ate a lot of dhal curries. Sudha was determined to keep her charge in tow. She promised Patel that she would make a fine Indian lady out of Nadine. She herself had two well-adjusted and obedient girls. Nadine was subdued when Patel was around.
“My girls will teach her to be a refined Indian girl. They are very good.” assured Sudha.
Trouble was festering, the moment Patel had left for New Zealand, Nadine started playing up. There was no way the aunt could do anything. Nadine was defiant in school, she taught her cousins foul language and rude signs and gestures that they had never heard or seen before. There were rumours going round that she was sleeping with the village boys. The boys were having a field day with this wild girl from New Zealand who let them do things to her that no village girls would do. She became very popular with the boys.
The village school master came to Nadine’s aunt and told her that the school would not tolerate Nadine’s bad behavior.
Nadine was a delinquent, lied and stole, and habitually played truant. She disrespected her teachers and did not do her homework and failed in all her examinations. It had come to the point where she was bad influence on the school children. The kids started skipping classes and slacking like her. The parents were started complaining to him.
“If Nadine does not change, I am afraid I will have to ask her to leave.” said the school master.
This was exactly what Nadine had wanted to hear. She persisted in her bad conduct. Nobody knew it was her secret strategy to get kicked out of the village and be sent home to New Zealand. Nadine’s plans were working, she was very proud of herself.
In a week, the school master came again. Nadine was harassing and verbally abusing the teachers. She threw a blackboard duster at one of the teachers who told her to erase the board. The teacher had a big gash in her forehead when the metal part of the eraser landed like a missile. A lot of blood oozed from the wound.
The school master said, “I had to personally take the teacher to the next town on my motorcycle to be attended to. Even my shirt was bloodied at the back. Now the teacher has more than ten stitches. She was lucky she was not blinded in the eye because the gash was so near to it.”
“Nadine did not show any repentance or remorse. Now, I am sorry I will have to ask Nadine to leave, no buts, she was lucky the teacher did not want to press charges or ask for compensation for medical fees,” said the school master.
When Bal came home, Sudha told him what the school master said, they had a quiet conference and agreed that Nadine was a big bad influence on their two girls and she was giving Bal’s family a bad reputation.
“That is it, tomorrow you go back to New Zealand,” said Bal.
Nadine said, “Not soon enough, I have been here too long.”
Nadine whooped with joy, she even danced the Maori Haka and stuck her tongue out, much to the chagrin of her uncle and aunt. Her cousins were disappointed their wild spirited cousin was leaving. She brought colour to their otherwise drab lives in the village. The boys were sad that she was leaving but sighed with a relief knowing all good things had to end: they knew they were walking on eggs and could have made her pregnant. Then they would be in deep trouble as nobody would want her as a wife. The school master was glad to see the last of this wild girl who had caused so much havoc to his docile school. Most anxious to see her go, however, were her Sudha aunty and uncle Bal. They were resigned to the fact that they had taken too much on their plate and had failed miserably. They pitied their cousin Patel when Nadine arrived back to New Zealand. Her experience in India had back fired and made her worst then what she was before.
They could not get a ticket straight away. Bal was afraid that Nadine would run away. Bal’s village house did not have locks. He went to the village shop and bought a big padlock and the biggest old fashion galvanised shoot bolt lock. He fixed it on the outside of the girls’ bedroom door. They locked Nadine in the bedroom for a week. They let Nadine out only when she needed to go to the bathroom.
Nadine shouted and cursed, “I hate you!”
Monday, November 10, 2008
Nadine, Chapter Nine
They went to Rendalls where there were big display bowls of makeup, eye shadow, moisturizer, foundation, rouge and lipsticks. Nadine had to steal one of each the items. They assured Nadine that they would form a "testudo", the Roman turtle defense formation, by crowding round Nadine and nobody would see her when she shoplifted. Nadine’s heart was palpitating so quickly that she could not stop herself from shaking. She wanted to grab one item and rush out of the shop, but her friends said she had to take all six items. She grabbed them from the different display bowls and shoved them into her school bag.
Unknown to the girls, Rendalls had security personnel surveying the store. The girls walked out of the door trying to look as calm and innocent as possible.
Two plain clothes security guards said, “Excuse me young ladies, do you have anything you forgot to pay for?”
It was then that Nadine knew who her friends were. Her friends denied they knew her and quickly left the store. Nadine was left holding the baby, so to speak. The guards took her to the manager’s office. He was a big white man and was busy talking on the phone. Nadine sat in the chair for a long time outside,
“I have to pee.”
They said, “You can wait.”
At last, after an eternity, the manager got off the phone.
“So you go to Auckland Girls’ Grammar School?’
“Yes.” She said, barely audible.
“What is a little thief doing in the best school in Auckland? Eh!” said the manager.
“You should go back to India!” One of the security guards interjected
The manager asked for Patel’s phone number and dialed slowly.
Nadine really needed to pee but she did not dare to tell them. She was in tears and she was wringing her uniform skirt in her anxiety. She felt her legs getting wet and warm.
“Hey, Ted, look at her, she really needs to pee, she is wetting the floor.” Said security guard Mike said,
“Take her to the girls room and tell the janitor to clean up the office.”
Nadine came back to the office with a big wet patch in front of her skirt. She had twisted her skirt from back to front.
Patel apologized to the store manager, and promised that it would not happen again. The Store manager said because the Indian community was known to be quiet law abiding citizens, he would not press charges but he warned Nadine and her girl friends or her gang not to set foot in his store again. Otherwise he would not be so lenient.
“Mr. Patel, I trust you understand, we have a crisis with shoplifting here. You are a business man yourself.”
On their way home in their old beat-up pick up. Patel told Nadine how serious it was to shoplift. He made her promise not to do it again or hang out with those girls.
“Those girls are bad influence, what’s wrong hanging out with Sashi and Archana?”
Nadine rolled her eyes and didn’t say anything. She wouldn’t be caught dead with these two goody-two-shoes. A leopard does not change its spots. The next day, when Nadine went to school, she was with her old friends again. She proudly told them what had happened in the manager’s office.
“No, I was not scared. Do I look scared? The manager was an A**hole and a pussy-cat. I got him all wrapped round my pinky finger.”
Desperately wanting to be part of the gang, Nadine forgot her father’s words. This time, the next day, the target was George Courts. Her friends said it would be easier.
She only had to steal an expensive blouse and a pair of lacy red knickers. They suggested she took the items to the fitting room. Then it was up to her to use her brains to decide the best strategy. Nadine decided if she wore the blouse inside her jumper, and the pair of knickers, no one would suspect that she had stolen anything.
The girls were giggling at their success as they were going to leave the store. But jubilation was premature: Nadine was stopped. Again her so-called friends left her in the lurch. A female security guard brought Nadine into the store and questioned her. Nadine was in tears. The guard told her to go to the fitting room and remove what she had taken.
The security guard,” Oh Shit! She peed in the knickers.”
The guard screwed up her face and took the offending merchandise and left them on the manager’s desk.
“Scene two of ‘the shoplifting production’ was a repeat of “Scene one.” The manager told Patel and Nadine that the business association had been issued a bulletin to look out for school girls shoplifting. They knew Nadine was a repeat offender.
“We are sick and tired of girls like you, two days in a row. I don’t know what kind of mother you have,” the manager shouted.
Nadine murmured, “This is precisely my damn mother’s fault.”
“What did you say?” asked the manager.
“Nothing,” whispered Nadine.
Patel paid for the wet knickers and apologized on Nadine’s behalf.
As the enormity of this offence was so great that they warned Patel and Nadine that strike three would mean a quick trip to the Central Police Station at Vincent Street.
Patel in his quiet way told Nadine,” Stay at home.”
“No way!” protested Nadine.
Patel said, “I hope you understand the seriousness, it is home or jail.”
Nadine kicked a stinking fuss and tormented Smita. She stole money from the till.
“I will tell Dad,” squealed Smita.
“Shut your trap! or I will shut it for you,” Nadine slapped Smita’s face.
Unknown to the girls, Rendalls had security personnel surveying the store. The girls walked out of the door trying to look as calm and innocent as possible.
Two plain clothes security guards said, “Excuse me young ladies, do you have anything you forgot to pay for?”
It was then that Nadine knew who her friends were. Her friends denied they knew her and quickly left the store. Nadine was left holding the baby, so to speak. The guards took her to the manager’s office. He was a big white man and was busy talking on the phone. Nadine sat in the chair for a long time outside,
“I have to pee.”
They said, “You can wait.”
At last, after an eternity, the manager got off the phone.
“So you go to Auckland Girls’ Grammar School?’
“Yes.” She said, barely audible.
“What is a little thief doing in the best school in Auckland? Eh!” said the manager.
“You should go back to India!” One of the security guards interjected
The manager asked for Patel’s phone number and dialed slowly.
Nadine really needed to pee but she did not dare to tell them. She was in tears and she was wringing her uniform skirt in her anxiety. She felt her legs getting wet and warm.
“Hey, Ted, look at her, she really needs to pee, she is wetting the floor.” Said security guard Mike said,
“Take her to the girls room and tell the janitor to clean up the office.”
Nadine came back to the office with a big wet patch in front of her skirt. She had twisted her skirt from back to front.
Patel apologized to the store manager, and promised that it would not happen again. The Store manager said because the Indian community was known to be quiet law abiding citizens, he would not press charges but he warned Nadine and her girl friends or her gang not to set foot in his store again. Otherwise he would not be so lenient.
“Mr. Patel, I trust you understand, we have a crisis with shoplifting here. You are a business man yourself.”
On their way home in their old beat-up pick up. Patel told Nadine how serious it was to shoplift. He made her promise not to do it again or hang out with those girls.
“Those girls are bad influence, what’s wrong hanging out with Sashi and Archana?”
Nadine rolled her eyes and didn’t say anything. She wouldn’t be caught dead with these two goody-two-shoes. A leopard does not change its spots. The next day, when Nadine went to school, she was with her old friends again. She proudly told them what had happened in the manager’s office.
“No, I was not scared. Do I look scared? The manager was an A**hole and a pussy-cat. I got him all wrapped round my pinky finger.”
Desperately wanting to be part of the gang, Nadine forgot her father’s words. This time, the next day, the target was George Courts. Her friends said it would be easier.
She only had to steal an expensive blouse and a pair of lacy red knickers. They suggested she took the items to the fitting room. Then it was up to her to use her brains to decide the best strategy. Nadine decided if she wore the blouse inside her jumper, and the pair of knickers, no one would suspect that she had stolen anything.
The girls were giggling at their success as they were going to leave the store. But jubilation was premature: Nadine was stopped. Again her so-called friends left her in the lurch. A female security guard brought Nadine into the store and questioned her. Nadine was in tears. The guard told her to go to the fitting room and remove what she had taken.
The security guard,” Oh Shit! She peed in the knickers.”
The guard screwed up her face and took the offending merchandise and left them on the manager’s desk.
“Scene two of ‘the shoplifting production’ was a repeat of “Scene one.” The manager told Patel and Nadine that the business association had been issued a bulletin to look out for school girls shoplifting. They knew Nadine was a repeat offender.
“We are sick and tired of girls like you, two days in a row. I don’t know what kind of mother you have,” the manager shouted.
Nadine murmured, “This is precisely my damn mother’s fault.”
“What did you say?” asked the manager.
“Nothing,” whispered Nadine.
Patel paid for the wet knickers and apologized on Nadine’s behalf.
As the enormity of this offence was so great that they warned Patel and Nadine that strike three would mean a quick trip to the Central Police Station at Vincent Street.
Patel in his quiet way told Nadine,” Stay at home.”
“No way!” protested Nadine.
Patel said, “I hope you understand the seriousness, it is home or jail.”
Nadine kicked a stinking fuss and tormented Smita. She stole money from the till.
“I will tell Dad,” squealed Smita.
“Shut your trap! or I will shut it for you,” Nadine slapped Smita’s face.
Nadine, Chapter Eight
Nadine hung around her Pakeha, Maori and Islander friends. She wanted to be popular and followed them everywhere like a puppy dog. After Intermediate School, they all went to Auckland Girls Grammar School. After school, they hung around K Road. Very often, they played truant. They ate at McDonalds, window shopped at Rendalls and George Courts. They rolled up their uniform skirts until they became ultra mini skirts and strutted down to the legendary and notorious sex strip joint ‘Pink Pussy Cat’. They used vulgar language at the old homeless men sitting on the bench. They gravitated to the red light strip of K Road and asked for cigarettes from passersby. They called out expletives and teased the men going to the X-rated shops and told them that they would provide better services than the call girls inside.
Sometimes Nadine and her girlfriends met up with boys and had drink and drug-taking parties at the beach. They threw broken glass bottles, used condoms and hypodermic needles and tagged graffiti on the rocks and toilet buildings. They had their thumping ghetto stereos blasting so loudly that residents nearby complained to the police that they were shaking their houses. Nadine and her friends did not care. When the residents came to tell them to be considerate, they shouted obscenities and showed them their middle finger. They thought themselves to be smart by leaving before the police came. Once, a boy stole a car, and after their joy ride, they set fire to it. It became a burnt-out shell and dumped in the park. Frequently, in the weekends, Nadine did not come home to sleep.
Patel knew that cigarettes from his dairy had gone missing, and he knew who took them. But he did not want to confront Nadine. To Nadine, the cigarettes were her trump card. Her friends loved her for them. Nadine felt very proud to be the owner of the forbidden fruit.
Nadine was very conscious that as an Indian, she was never fully accepted by the gang. Patel had told her that in the old days, there were white prejudices. As Indians they were often lumped in the category of ‘Assyrian hawkers’. She never brought the girls home because she was ashamed of her “Indian” mother. She was ashamed that Chandra wore her drab old sari. She was ashamed that Chandra only spoke smithereens of English.
The girls were always asking her to do things that they themselves did not want to do. One day, one of the girls challenged Nadine to a dare and warned her that she was their friend only if she accepted. In a desperate attempt to be fully accepted by the gang, Nadine took up the challenge.
Sometimes Nadine and her girlfriends met up with boys and had drink and drug-taking parties at the beach. They threw broken glass bottles, used condoms and hypodermic needles and tagged graffiti on the rocks and toilet buildings. They had their thumping ghetto stereos blasting so loudly that residents nearby complained to the police that they were shaking their houses. Nadine and her friends did not care. When the residents came to tell them to be considerate, they shouted obscenities and showed them their middle finger. They thought themselves to be smart by leaving before the police came. Once, a boy stole a car, and after their joy ride, they set fire to it. It became a burnt-out shell and dumped in the park. Frequently, in the weekends, Nadine did not come home to sleep.
Patel knew that cigarettes from his dairy had gone missing, and he knew who took them. But he did not want to confront Nadine. To Nadine, the cigarettes were her trump card. Her friends loved her for them. Nadine felt very proud to be the owner of the forbidden fruit.
Nadine was very conscious that as an Indian, she was never fully accepted by the gang. Patel had told her that in the old days, there were white prejudices. As Indians they were often lumped in the category of ‘Assyrian hawkers’. She never brought the girls home because she was ashamed of her “Indian” mother. She was ashamed that Chandra wore her drab old sari. She was ashamed that Chandra only spoke smithereens of English.
The girls were always asking her to do things that they themselves did not want to do. One day, one of the girls challenged Nadine to a dare and warned her that she was their friend only if she accepted. In a desperate attempt to be fully accepted by the gang, Nadine took up the challenge.
Nadine, Chapter Seven
People say that lightning doesn’t strike twice. But Chandra must have been at the wrong place at the wrong time. When Nadine was twelve, Chandra gave birth to another girl. Patel named her Smita. It was like turning the clock back to where they had started in Pukekohe. Chandra took a turn for the worse.
This was how it was in the Patel family. Chandra sat in front of the TV watching Days of our Lives, The Young and the Restless, Emmerdale Farm, Coronation Street, It’s in the Bag. In fact, the TV was never turned off when she was awake. She did not go out to serve when the bell tinkled that her customers had entered the dairy.
Patel enrolled Nadine at Surrey Crescent School in Grey Lynn. He was such a busy man, with his business and a sick wife and a baby, that he did not notice that Nadine had become a defiant girl. If Chandra said anything, Nadine would shout back obscene and profane words and that as Chandra was a bloody foreigner, she knew nothing about being a Kiwi, a New Zealander.
“You go home to India.”
Nadine hated to have to babysit her little sister Smita.
“Piss off! Get off my face” she screamed at Smita.
There was not a moment of peace or quiet in the house. It was either Nadine and Chandra screaming at each other, or baby Smita crying.
This was how it was in the Patel family. Chandra sat in front of the TV watching Days of our Lives, The Young and the Restless, Emmerdale Farm, Coronation Street, It’s in the Bag. In fact, the TV was never turned off when she was awake. She did not go out to serve when the bell tinkled that her customers had entered the dairy.
Patel enrolled Nadine at Surrey Crescent School in Grey Lynn. He was such a busy man, with his business and a sick wife and a baby, that he did not notice that Nadine had become a defiant girl. If Chandra said anything, Nadine would shout back obscene and profane words and that as Chandra was a bloody foreigner, she knew nothing about being a Kiwi, a New Zealander.
“You go home to India.”
Nadine hated to have to babysit her little sister Smita.
“Piss off! Get off my face” she screamed at Smita.
There was not a moment of peace or quiet in the house. It was either Nadine and Chandra screaming at each other, or baby Smita crying.
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Nadine, Chapter Six
Nadine was eight and was picking up all sorts of bad language and social problems from the bad kids in school. Manchala suggested to Patel that perhaps moving to the city might improve Chandra’s condition. Patel scraped all his savings and found a little dairy at Grey Lynn at Williamson Ave. It was a good location. The road cuts the area between Great North Road and Ponsonby Road. There was a bus stop just next to it. Business was good: that was the time before Foodtown supermarket was built at Williamson Ave and when Grey Lynn and Ponsonby were derelict ghettoes. Since the diary had bedrooms and the kitchen at the back, he would be around to keep an eye on Nadine and his sick wife.
The city environment proved to be the right medicine for Chandra. She loved the little dairy and being the boss lady. She was talking to the customers and her English was improving. Work at the corner dairy was arduous for Patel, he worked seven days a week and he was up early to buy produce at the Turners Auctioneers, and did not get to bed till past midnight. But Patel was happy that Chandra was improving. They celebrated when Chandra was pregnant again. Patel was apprehensive, what if they had another girl. Would Chandra fall sick again?
The city environment proved to be the right medicine for Chandra. She loved the little dairy and being the boss lady. She was talking to the customers and her English was improving. Work at the corner dairy was arduous for Patel, he worked seven days a week and he was up early to buy produce at the Turners Auctioneers, and did not get to bed till past midnight. But Patel was happy that Chandra was improving. They celebrated when Chandra was pregnant again. Patel was apprehensive, what if they had another girl. Would Chandra fall sick again?
Nadine, Chapter five
When Kim’s husband, Ah Fook came home and saw what a rotten brat was in the house, he commented, “You are spoiling her.”
Kim replied, “Chinese way: Other people’s children cannot discipline.”
Ah Fook retorted, “You stupid woman.”
This daily tug of war was getting Manchala and Kim down. There was never a tranquil moment if Nadine was in their houses. When the husbands Prem and Ah Fook came home from a busy day in the garden, Manchala and Kim felt more stressed out because they could not control Nadine and were worried that Prem and Ah Fook would stop them from caring for Nadine.
The crunch came when Nadine swore and called Ah Fook a “Chinkee” and rudely sang to him, “Ching Chong china man had to milk a cow
Ching Chong china man didn’t know how
Ching Chong china man was covered in shit”
To Manchala she cursed, “You Indian slut!!”
Manchala was absolutely shocked and gobsmacked. With tears in her eyes, “Nice girls don’t say things like this.”
“You cow! You are not my mum.”
Prem and Ah Fook said simultaneously in their own houses, as if they both were rehearsing and competing for the same role in a drama.
“Enough is enough! Nadine is not our child or our charge. You have been too kind to Patel and Chandra. It’s time they took up their own responsibility to bring Nadine up,”
Despite their husbands' displeasure, Manchala and Kim continued to keep a watchful eye on little Nadine, pitying Petal and his poor sick wife.
Kim replied, “Chinese way: Other people’s children cannot discipline.”
Ah Fook retorted, “You stupid woman.”
This daily tug of war was getting Manchala and Kim down. There was never a tranquil moment if Nadine was in their houses. When the husbands Prem and Ah Fook came home from a busy day in the garden, Manchala and Kim felt more stressed out because they could not control Nadine and were worried that Prem and Ah Fook would stop them from caring for Nadine.
The crunch came when Nadine swore and called Ah Fook a “Chinkee” and rudely sang to him, “Ching Chong china man had to milk a cow
Ching Chong china man didn’t know how
Ching Chong china man was covered in shit”
To Manchala she cursed, “You Indian slut!!”
Manchala was absolutely shocked and gobsmacked. With tears in her eyes, “Nice girls don’t say things like this.”
“You cow! You are not my mum.”
Prem and Ah Fook said simultaneously in their own houses, as if they both were rehearsing and competing for the same role in a drama.
“Enough is enough! Nadine is not our child or our charge. You have been too kind to Patel and Chandra. It’s time they took up their own responsibility to bring Nadine up,”
Despite their husbands' displeasure, Manchala and Kim continued to keep a watchful eye on little Nadine, pitying Petal and his poor sick wife.
Nadine, Chapter Four
Young Nadine spent most of her baby, toddler and early childhood years in Manchala’s house and Kim’s produce store. Nadine came down with colic and bilious diarrhea. Kim had a magic potion.
“You have fat baby water?” Kim asked the chemist.
The chemist did not understand her.
Kim said, “The bottle has fat baby holding a snake.”
Together with the chemist, she looked for it.
“I have found it, you see, fat baby.”
The chemist realized it was Gripe water this Chinese woman speaking strange English was looking for. Kim brought the gripe water back and gave a teaspoon to Nadine. It worked like magic. The moment Nadine swallowed the gripe water, her howling stopped.
Kim laughed, “The people of Pukekohe don’t call me Chinese doc for nothing.”
Kim did not have any children of her own. She treated Nadine as the little girl she never had. Kim knitted cardigans, mittens and caps for Nadine. When she went to the shops, she bought pretty ribbons and braided Nadine’s long curly jet black hair. She treated her like a princess and bought her jelly beans and trinkets. When Nadine threw a tantrum, she was unfazed.
One day, Kim told Nadine, “We Chinese have a special custom, called Kai Ma. Kai Noi. Like an adopted mum and adopted daughter. I like you very much, I be your Chinese mother.”
Nadine replied, “Yes, I’d like that very much. I don’t like my mother. She doesn’t like me. Does this mean that I can come to live in your house?”
Kim said, “No, a Kai Noi doesn’t come to live with her Kai Ma. But we love each other very much. Besides, your Daddy will never allow it.”
Nadine was a scrawny little thing as she was a picky eater. In Manchala’s house, she ate dosai, chapattis, roti and samosas. In Kim’s house, she did not want to eat her Chinese food.
“I want samosa! I want samosa!” she yelled at the top of her voice.
Kim said, “Sorry love, I can’t make samosas, next time, I ask Manchala aunty to make some for you. Now be a good little girl and eat up.”
“I want to go to Manchala aunty now!!!!” and she flung the little bowl off the table. Rice grains scattered all over Kim’s clean kitchen floor.
Kim said, “Sorry love, Manchala aunty had to take Harishankar to school.”
Nadine would only eat plain steamed rice with her hand, and mess Kim’s kitchen but Kim did not reprimand her. Kim understood that Indians don’t use knives and forks or chopsticks, but eat with their hands. The first time Kim offered her a spoon, Nadine flung the spoon and screeched and howled at the top of her lungs.
“You have fat baby water?” Kim asked the chemist.
The chemist did not understand her.
Kim said, “The bottle has fat baby holding a snake.”
Together with the chemist, she looked for it.
“I have found it, you see, fat baby.”
The chemist realized it was Gripe water this Chinese woman speaking strange English was looking for. Kim brought the gripe water back and gave a teaspoon to Nadine. It worked like magic. The moment Nadine swallowed the gripe water, her howling stopped.
Kim laughed, “The people of Pukekohe don’t call me Chinese doc for nothing.”
Kim did not have any children of her own. She treated Nadine as the little girl she never had. Kim knitted cardigans, mittens and caps for Nadine. When she went to the shops, she bought pretty ribbons and braided Nadine’s long curly jet black hair. She treated her like a princess and bought her jelly beans and trinkets. When Nadine threw a tantrum, she was unfazed.
One day, Kim told Nadine, “We Chinese have a special custom, called Kai Ma. Kai Noi. Like an adopted mum and adopted daughter. I like you very much, I be your Chinese mother.”
Nadine replied, “Yes, I’d like that very much. I don’t like my mother. She doesn’t like me. Does this mean that I can come to live in your house?”
Kim said, “No, a Kai Noi doesn’t come to live with her Kai Ma. But we love each other very much. Besides, your Daddy will never allow it.”
Nadine was a scrawny little thing as she was a picky eater. In Manchala’s house, she ate dosai, chapattis, roti and samosas. In Kim’s house, she did not want to eat her Chinese food.
“I want samosa! I want samosa!” she yelled at the top of her voice.
Kim said, “Sorry love, I can’t make samosas, next time, I ask Manchala aunty to make some for you. Now be a good little girl and eat up.”
“I want to go to Manchala aunty now!!!!” and she flung the little bowl off the table. Rice grains scattered all over Kim’s clean kitchen floor.
Kim said, “Sorry love, Manchala aunty had to take Harishankar to school.”
Nadine would only eat plain steamed rice with her hand, and mess Kim’s kitchen but Kim did not reprimand her. Kim understood that Indians don’t use knives and forks or chopsticks, but eat with their hands. The first time Kim offered her a spoon, Nadine flung the spoon and screeched and howled at the top of her lungs.
Nadine, Chapter three
The European mid wife said, “Congratulations! You have a beautiful baby girl.”
“No! Not a girl!” Chandra shrieked.
Chandra cried, she did not want to have anything to do with the baby. She did not want to look at the baby. The midwife told Patel to come into the theatre to hold the baby and reassure Chandra that she had given birth to the most beautiful baby in the world. But Chandra could not and would not be consoled.
Chandra was discharged after three days, she went straight to bed. Poor Patel, he had to tend to the garden as well as the baby. He asked his two neighbors Manchala and Kim Lawgun to keep an eye on the baby and the mother whenever they could.
Manchala was a stay home mum with her three little children. Kim had a small fruit and vegetable store where people could park their cars and buy her fresh produce. She lived at the back and she assured Patel that Nadine was no trouble to her.
These two ladies were the best thing for the mother and child since sliced bread. They came and bathed Nadine, fed her and even took her home to give Chandra a chance to rest.
Chandra refused to eat, she refused to go out, she forgot to feed the baby or change her nappies until the filth stuck to her Nadine’s bottom and she got such a terrible nappy rash. Chandra deteriorated and had post natal depression. Only people at that time did not recognize there was such a problem.
She kept saying and weeping, “My son Kamlesh, my son Kamlesh.”
It was as if she had a son Kamlesh who had died at birth and she was grieving for him.
“No! Not a girl!” Chandra shrieked.
Chandra cried, she did not want to have anything to do with the baby. She did not want to look at the baby. The midwife told Patel to come into the theatre to hold the baby and reassure Chandra that she had given birth to the most beautiful baby in the world. But Chandra could not and would not be consoled.
Chandra was discharged after three days, she went straight to bed. Poor Patel, he had to tend to the garden as well as the baby. He asked his two neighbors Manchala and Kim Lawgun to keep an eye on the baby and the mother whenever they could.
Manchala was a stay home mum with her three little children. Kim had a small fruit and vegetable store where people could park their cars and buy her fresh produce. She lived at the back and she assured Patel that Nadine was no trouble to her.
These two ladies were the best thing for the mother and child since sliced bread. They came and bathed Nadine, fed her and even took her home to give Chandra a chance to rest.
Chandra refused to eat, she refused to go out, she forgot to feed the baby or change her nappies until the filth stuck to her Nadine’s bottom and she got such a terrible nappy rash. Chandra deteriorated and had post natal depression. Only people at that time did not recognize there was such a problem.
She kept saying and weeping, “My son Kamlesh, my son Kamlesh.”
It was as if she had a son Kamlesh who had died at birth and she was grieving for him.
Nadine, Chapter two
For twelve years, she waited and waited for her Gods to answer her prayer. Everyone could see that Patel was her answer to her prayers for a good husband. He tolerated her grouchiness, and her gloomy and bad-tempered disposition. Where would one find such a good natured husband, the Pukekohe gardeners gossiped. If he came home in the evening and the table was bare, he quietly cooked dinner for the two of them. He accepted his lot, it was his karma. People said that in India Chandra would not have been so lucky. There were many bride suicides, but here, Patel was putting her on a pedestal and pampering her when she should get down from her high horse and be like any other Indian wife in Pukekohe.
When she was giving up hope, at last it happened. She was pregnant. She felt Patel was being extra good to her; he pampered her and took her to Auckland for shopping. When she felt nausea with morning sickness, Patel cooked the meals and left them on the table to eat during the day. Chandra enjoyed this attention Patel was giving her. When the first trimester had passed, and she got better, Chandra still behaved as though she had the morning sickness. For the whole nine months, she never had it so good. The women gossiped again that Patel was an old fool. He was fifteen years older than her and was blinded in his devotion. He was approaching forty five and he was elated to be a father for the first time, when he could have been a grandfather.
There was much joy in Patel’s family. Chandra was convinced that the Gods of Krishna and Vishnu had blessed her with a son. On the happy day, Patel took Chandra to Middlemore hospital to deliver the baby. He took the day off and sat waiting in the corridor. The long awaited boy, according to Chandra, was arriving. Chandra’s water broke but her cervix was not dilating. Nothing was happening, and the midwife told them that Chandra had to stay overnight to avoid infection. Patel sat on the chair next to her bed. After a long and difficult labour of twenty-four hours, Chandra was spent both physically and emotionally. The baby came. Chandra was anxious to have her first glimpse of her baby boy.
When she was giving up hope, at last it happened. She was pregnant. She felt Patel was being extra good to her; he pampered her and took her to Auckland for shopping. When she felt nausea with morning sickness, Patel cooked the meals and left them on the table to eat during the day. Chandra enjoyed this attention Patel was giving her. When the first trimester had passed, and she got better, Chandra still behaved as though she had the morning sickness. For the whole nine months, she never had it so good. The women gossiped again that Patel was an old fool. He was fifteen years older than her and was blinded in his devotion. He was approaching forty five and he was elated to be a father for the first time, when he could have been a grandfather.
There was much joy in Patel’s family. Chandra was convinced that the Gods of Krishna and Vishnu had blessed her with a son. On the happy day, Patel took Chandra to Middlemore hospital to deliver the baby. He took the day off and sat waiting in the corridor. The long awaited boy, according to Chandra, was arriving. Chandra’s water broke but her cervix was not dilating. Nothing was happening, and the midwife told them that Chandra had to stay overnight to avoid infection. Patel sat on the chair next to her bed. After a long and difficult labour of twenty-four hours, Chandra was spent both physically and emotionally. The baby came. Chandra was anxious to have her first glimpse of her baby boy.
Nadine, Chapter one
Chapter 1: Nadine
When I first met Nadine, she was my neighbor from across the road in Kingsland; we were both living in rental properties along Third Avenue. It was quite a slum area, with students and Maoris and Polynesians living in the run down bungalows. I was newly married and working full time. Nadine had never worked and was pregnant with her first child. Nadine was a New Zealand-born Indian, but she did not want to use her Indian name and wanted to be known as Nadine only. She liked to come for cup of tea or coffee when I was home and we talked about the pending birth of her baby.
This is Nadine’s story.
Nadine’s father, Patel was born and bred in Pukekohe. He was a market gardener. His family was among the early Indian immigrants who came before 1900s. When Patel saved up enough money, he sent for his bride from Gujarat, a state in North West India. Traditionally, an Indian bride gave her husband a dowry, but in this case, none was given because not many Indian girls wanted to come to New Zealand and Patel was happy to get a bride.
Nadine’s mother came with other girls like her, to marry men they had never met. Upon arrival at Pukekohe, Nadine’s mother, Chandra, proved to be a sour puss. She hated the market garden; she hated the cold winter. She said the Pakehas and the Maoris discriminated against her. She moaned and groaned that there were no ingredients to cook her traditional Indian food. She was extremely homesick and believed she left one set of shackles of poverty in Gujerat for another set, of isolation in New Zealand. She was not getting pregnant, and she yearned for the day she’d have a baby boy so her husband would start to mollycoddle her instead of staying in the bloody garden the whole day. She did her puja or worship everyday to her Gods Lord Ganesh and Lord Krishna, but it was still not happening. She thought, perhaps she missed the auspicious time when she first arrived in New Zealand. Her mother told her that she must meet her husband at that precise time the soothsayer had calculated, but the bloody Singapore Airlines was delayed and she missed her important time by three hours. Chandra was convinced that the Gods were unhappy with her because she did not do puja with a tulsi plant as every Indian lady did in India and even those living overseas in Singapore where the tulsi plant thrived. But in New Zealand, the weather was too cold for the tulsi. However, Manchala who came from the same village on the same flight as her had no problem conceiving three boys.
When I first met Nadine, she was my neighbor from across the road in Kingsland; we were both living in rental properties along Third Avenue. It was quite a slum area, with students and Maoris and Polynesians living in the run down bungalows. I was newly married and working full time. Nadine had never worked and was pregnant with her first child. Nadine was a New Zealand-born Indian, but she did not want to use her Indian name and wanted to be known as Nadine only. She liked to come for cup of tea or coffee when I was home and we talked about the pending birth of her baby.
This is Nadine’s story.
Nadine’s father, Patel was born and bred in Pukekohe. He was a market gardener. His family was among the early Indian immigrants who came before 1900s. When Patel saved up enough money, he sent for his bride from Gujarat, a state in North West India. Traditionally, an Indian bride gave her husband a dowry, but in this case, none was given because not many Indian girls wanted to come to New Zealand and Patel was happy to get a bride.
Nadine’s mother came with other girls like her, to marry men they had never met. Upon arrival at Pukekohe, Nadine’s mother, Chandra, proved to be a sour puss. She hated the market garden; she hated the cold winter. She said the Pakehas and the Maoris discriminated against her. She moaned and groaned that there were no ingredients to cook her traditional Indian food. She was extremely homesick and believed she left one set of shackles of poverty in Gujerat for another set, of isolation in New Zealand. She was not getting pregnant, and she yearned for the day she’d have a baby boy so her husband would start to mollycoddle her instead of staying in the bloody garden the whole day. She did her puja or worship everyday to her Gods Lord Ganesh and Lord Krishna, but it was still not happening. She thought, perhaps she missed the auspicious time when she first arrived in New Zealand. Her mother told her that she must meet her husband at that precise time the soothsayer had calculated, but the bloody Singapore Airlines was delayed and she missed her important time by three hours. Chandra was convinced that the Gods were unhappy with her because she did not do puja with a tulsi plant as every Indian lady did in India and even those living overseas in Singapore where the tulsi plant thrived. But in New Zealand, the weather was too cold for the tulsi. However, Manchala who came from the same village on the same flight as her had no problem conceiving three boys.
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