Lavishly Citrus

"Rubina...hi, it's Kamran," I said.

"Hi, Kamran, how are you?," was her response.

[She speaks in a monotone. It's hard to figure out what she's
feeling.]

K: Oh, pretty good...it wasn't too bad at work today...usually it's a
pressure cooker.

R: I know all about that...the lives we choose for ourselves in this
country, I tell ya.

K: You know I?ve never asked you what exactly it is that you do at
your job.

R: I'll put you to sleep if I get into it. Trust me, even I'm not that
into it.

K: Accounting, eh? Yeah, never struck my fancy in college...what made
you choose it?

R: (laughs) Fear of the future, honestly. I was pre-med like most
well-intentioned Paki girls start out in college. But I got bored with
it pretty quickly.

K: And accounting...

R: (laughs again) No, I didn't choose it because I find it riveting,
believe me, it was so I can get a job and become independent as
quickly as I can. What really interested me in college was social
science. So I made sure I took lots of electives. Wish I'd done more
with art though.

K: Yeah, you were saying last time we talked...what kind of art?

R: I especially like impressionism. Degas is my favorite.

[Common choice. But I'm glad she didn't say Monet]

K: It's kind of like when I take my contacts out...

R: What?

K: Impressionism. I enter the world of an impressionist painting when
I take my contacts out. Boundaries blur, edges intertwine. It?s very
relaxing actually. You can call it art therapy almost. (I joke)

R: Oh. That?s clever. I can only imagine what that must feel like
since I have 20/20 vision.

K: Well, aren?t you perfect. I became near-sighted at 16. And got
contacts right away.

R: God...I can't imagine putting something foreign like that in my
eyes.

K: (I smile) Like I said, lucky you.

(Pause)

R: Tell me about what you do at your job. I find the computer field
pretty interesting. Wish I knew more about it.

K: Given the direction the world is moving, you'll soon have to. I
basically help companies solve their IT problems. Dilemmas may be
even better. They call me when all hope is lost.

R: And you can fix their problems?

K: Most of the time. (I smile) But you can't win 'em all. The key is
to keep clients happy and make them feel good about paying me the
large amounts of money I bill them. And it's not a simple task. But
with enough practice, as with anything, you get good at it.

(Pause)

R: I still don't know what you do.

K: Well, it has to do with Unix, software development, Intranets, and
XML. Lately, I help companies convert their mission-critical data to a
new format called XML. It's the wave of the future.

R: Oh, it all makes sense now. (She says coyly)

K: I can tell you more but I don't want to bore you. I hope you don't
feel patronized, Rubina.

R: No, not at all. Careers have become so specialized in our time that
one not well-versed in the jargon can hardly be expected to follow
along.

[Good point. I hadn't thought of it quite that way.]

(Pause)

R: Got some awful news today from my mother. A son of a family
friend...well, he was too...died in a car accident last night.

K: Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that, Rubina.

R: I can't quite believe it still. I mean I've known him and his
family for years. We weren't particularly close but it still hurts.

K: Pakistani?

R: Uh huh...makes it worse in some ways, I hate to say it.

K: What exactly happened?

R: Well, what my mother told me is that he was driving very fast and
hit another car head on. The other driver's in the hospital. He was
pretty banged up but lived.

K: Was he drunk? How old was he?

R: I don't know. Don't think so, at least. God, that would be so awful
for the family. He was young. In high school.

K: It's awful for the family in more ways than one.

R: What do you mean?

K: I've thought for a long time that people who leave this world leave
their worries behind. It's the people they leave behind, those who
loved them, are the ones left with the burden of remorse.

R: Hmm

K: I feel sorrier for the family than I do for the victim. I hope the
other driver recovers.

R: I've never had anybody close to me die.

K: My grandfather died in my arms when I was 13. He was having a brain
hemorrhage and we were driving to a hospital in Karachi...I think it
was 1983...my cousin and I were holding him in the back seat of the
car and he stopped breathing before we reached the hospital.

R: My god...that sounds so awful.

K: Don't know if they have working ambulances now but we really could
have used one that day.

R: It's not the US.

K: His time had come. He lived to be 85. Lived a good life by most
accounts.

(Pause)

K: Are you glad your parents decided to migrate?

R: It's a tough question, Kamran. Sometimes I am, sometimes not. There
are days when I feel so American, so assimilated...I feel I can almost
marry a white man. (She laughs). But then there are those days when I
feel that I just don't belong here.

K: I know what you mean. I had nothing to do with the decision to
migrate to this country. My parents did it. They sacrificed their
thriving careers in Pakistan to come here. And it's a common
story. They couldn't deal with the corruption. Wanted a better life
for their children. Well, they succeeded.

R: Did they?

(Pause)

K: There are days...(I smile)

(Pause)

K: Let talk about something less depressing, shall we?

R: Good idea. Make me laugh, Kamran. You're so good at that.

[She knows just what to say]

K: An Indian coworker e-mailed me a funny sher the other day. Wanna
hear it?

R: Sure. Tell me.

K: Khush kismat hain key aap beywafa nikle. Wafadaar to kut-tay hotay
hain.

(She laughs)

R: Oh, that's funny.

K: I thought it was.

R: You're not insinuating anything, I hope.

K: Oh, c'mon, Ruby. Hardly. Just a light-hearted sher.

R: I read a Ghalib sher on Chowk the other day. It was really
good. Wish I could remember it.

K: Who submitted it?

R: I think it was Zahra.

K: Not Zehra, right? (I joke)

R: Are they different people?

K: I'm almost positive they are. (I chuckle)

R: Who's your favorite writer on Chowk?

K: I don't know if I have a favorite, per se. I like Bina's stuff.

R: Really? I read "Fishhooks". It was good, in a creepy sort of way.

K: Creepy?

R: I like Shandana's writing a lot.

K: Haven't read her, sorry.

(Pause)

R: So read me a poem.

K: Ah, yes...you asked for edification the first time we talked. I
guess I owe it to you after all that you taught me that night.

R: Something like that...

K: To be young without poetry is like being kept indoors in the
spring.

R: My, my...I'm really missing out then. I really need to get out
more.

K: I used to read so much more when I lived in California. There was
this great bookstore in Mountain View called "Printer's Inc." I would
spend hours there.

R: Small, independent bookstore, was it?

K: You got it. It was there that I discovered some wonderful
contemporary poets. Like Vikram Seth.

R: Oh, I read "A Suitable Boy" by him. Great work.

K: Yeah, I didn't think that highly of it personally. But I did enjoy
"The Golden Gate." But then I was living in San Francisco at the time
and was a Silicon Valley yuppie. So it struck my nerves all over the
place.

R: Hmm...I love San Francisco.

K: Okay, pay attention now. I'll read you something from John
Donne. It's a poem called "The flea". A well-known work.

R: The flea?! You don't have anything more interesting than that?

K: It's not about a flea, Rubina! It's about courtship.

R: Are you trying to be romantic? (She laughs)

K: OK...you're clearly not into this.

R: No, I am, I am. I'm sorry. (She's laughing). Please read it.

K: The moment is gone. I'll have to find something else.

R: How about something closer to our culture?

K: Hmm...OK...but I have to read you some T.S. Eliot another time,
OK?

R: Sure.

K: Closer to our culture...whatever that may be...hmm...read any Rumi?
Or Iqbal?

R: I've read Shikwa and Jawab-e-shikwa. But not Rumi. Have been
hearing a lot about this Rumi lately though. Didn't what's-his-name
write a book about him? The Indian new-age guru guy.

K: (I smile) Deepak Chopra. But please let us not associate the
two. Rumi doesn't need marketing by anyone as far as I'm
concerned. OK...ready?

R: Very. Did I tell you I love the sound of your voice? You?re so
eloquent.

[That's nice to hear...]

K: You're sweet. However, what you're about to hear is all attributed
to Jelaluddin Rumi. This is a good selection because it'll tell you
something about him as well.

R: Wait...where is he from?

K: 13th century Persia, I believe.

(I read)

I am a bird from the kingdom of heaven, not made of dust For a short
while my body is a cage which my soul shall bust

What do you suggest, O Muslims! For I do not recognize myself I am
neither Christian, nor Jew, nor Muslim I am not of the East, nor West,
nor of the land, nor of the sea I am not of Nature's mine, nor of the
circling heavens I am not of India, nor of China, nor of Bulgaria, nor
of Saqsin I am not of the kingdom of Iraq, nor of the land of Khorasan

My place is nowhere, my trace traceless 'Tis neither body nor soul,
for I belong to the soul of the Beloved I have put duality aside, I
have found the two worlds to be One One I seek, One I know, One I see,
One I invoke This discourse is the ladder reaching the sky He who
climbs it shall land on the roof

My life may be summed up In three phrases I was raw I matured Then I
burned

(Pause)

[Nervous. She may have totally hated it.]

R: Spiritual. Beautiful. I really like it.

K: Yeah, my friend, Laura, got me interested in his work. Allama Iqbal
is a descendant of Sufi influence, y'know?

R: I never realized that.

K: Oh yeah, some of his poetry is so powerful, and yet so vague, that
it is difficult to infer whether he's pining for God or for a
woman. Of course, it almost doesn?t matter in Sufism. Love is love is
love.

R: All about oneness, eh? Kinda hokey, don't you think?

K: Not at all, Rubina. Not at all. Besides we agnostics need all the
borrowed spirituality we can round up. Even if it is, as you put it,
hokey.

R: My, my, such self-cynicism. Such self-deprecation. Do I really want
to be with a man so jaded?

K: It may already be too late. (I smile)

R: Oh...and over-confidence too. Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.

K: Why, you think you can do better?

R: I know my market value, mister. (She quips)

[I hated the sound of that.]

K: And what exactly is it by your measure?

R: Well, my measure isn't important. It's what you think.

[Two can play at this game.]

K: I don't know, Rubina. You're cute but I've always had this fantasy
of marrying a doctor.

R: God, I hate doctors. Mummy tried to set me up twice with
doctors. They're so self-absorbed.

[This after that market-value comment.]

R: But if you want to play doctor, I can role-play. Mr. Akhtar, please
take off all your clothes and put on this flimsy gown for your
physical.

K: Rubina, Rubina, Rubina. How many issues of Cosmo and Glamour did it
take before you got to be the way you are?

R: Are you complaining?

K: Far be it from me to do that...

(Pause)

K: Didn't those magazines teach anything about kissing?

[Treading on thin ice, Kamran.]

R: Excuse me?!

K: (I laugh) Well, I'm not complaining but I think you need some
variety in your technique.

R: I need variety?! Hello...I didn't want to say this but who taught
you how to kiss anyway? You don't even close your eyes.

K: Well, someone has to look around once in a while...it was dark and
late at the beach, y'know...you had your eyes shut the whole time so
I...

R: So you opened yours???

[This could turn ugly. Should've kept my mouth shut.]

K: Rubina, let's not fight about this. We can learn together, OK? What
could be more fun?

R: You'll be lucky if you ever get to kiss me again at this point.

K: This is so cute, Ruby. Our first fight.

(Long pause...I can hear her breathe)

K: Are you still mad?

R: Yes.

K: Why?

R: Because you just insulted me. I take pride in how I kiss. How dare
you?

K: Ruby, I loved the way you kissed. I was only joking about the
technique. OK? It?s just that you mentioned something about French
kissing and what we did last time was not French kissing.

R: I know what French kissing is, Kamran. We didn't French kiss
because I didn?t want to French kiss. Don't you think I was fully
aware of your trying to slip your tongue between my lips. I gently
pushed it back, or did you not notice even with your eyes open?

[Hmmm...she got me there.]

K: Come to think of it...

R: Ah...light goes on...you think you're so in control just because
you grabbed me and initiated the kiss.

K: OK...OK...fine. So when can we French kiss?

R: You can't ask me that. It'll happen when it happens.

(Pause)

K: Can I ask you something?

R: Uh huh.

K: What possessed you to send me that card?

R: Which card?

K: The kinkycards.com card.

R: Well, you e-mailed me a somewhat censored one...so I thought I'd
return the favor by sending you an uncensored one.

K: Ah...

R: Y'know, to liberate your imagination.

K: Well, you accomplished that...

R: Good. Are you complaining? Did you not appreciate the lavish
derriere on that woman?

[Lavish? Good choice of words. It was lavish.]

K: (I laugh) What's not to like. I especially liked the shadows of the
blinds across her back. Why do you think she had her jeans down to her
thighs like that?

R: I don't know. Maybe they were uncomfortable. Maybe she was posing
for her lover. Whatever it was, it made me envious.

K: Envious?

R: Envious. At her unabashedness. I could never be that at ease with
nudity.

[Hmm...interesting confession. Well, maybe with some practice...]

K: Y'know, I haven't shared this with you but remember after our first
date when you invited me up to your apartment.

R: Yes, and I was thinking the whole time, "Rubina, this is way too
suggestive."

K: No, it was good thing, believe me. Anyway, when you reached up and
stood on your tiptoes to get the wine glass from the top shelf, I
saw...

R: You saw what?

K: Well, your skirt was somewhat sheer and the light was just right.

R: You saw what?!

K: Suffice it to say, your e-card evoked a...a...feeling of dejavu.

R: Kamran, you're so bad.

K: It's the company I've been keeping, what can I say...

R: I had a dream after I sent you that card.

K: Please share.

R: Well, it was surreal, as dreams tend to be, I suppose...I was
walking in a citrus grove. The pungent smell of citrus was so
pervasive.

K: Uh huh

R: I stopped after a while and bent down to pick up an orange.

R: And then I stretched my neck, breathed its scent, and bit into it.

K: What about the rind?

R: I didn't peel it if that's what you mean. I bit into it like Jane
would.

K: Who's Jane? Your other lover?

[I can hear her smile.]

R: No, you silly, as in Tarzan and Jane.

[What?]

K: Of course. And where is ol' Tarzan during all this anyway?

R: He's not in my dream.

K: Good.

R: Why good?

K: Didn't the citrusy pulp, juice, stuff drip down your clothes?

R: I never said I was wearing clothes, did I?

K: Oh...

[Remember to jot down some oranges and/or grapefruits on the grocery
list.]

(Pause)

K: Rubina, you're evil re-incarnate.

R: Thanks. I'll take that as a compliment and assume you liked my
dream.

K: It's going to cause me sleeplessness, you'll be happy to know.

R: Men. You're so easy. And I didn't even tell you about the incident
at my gynecologist's office today.

K: Rubina, please spare me. I'd like to hold on to the citrus dream
for a while. (I laugh).

[Why did she have to go to the doctor's?]

K: Is everything OK?

R: Oh sure, just a routine checkup. I had to see her about something.

(Pause)

K: Hey, I want to take you on a trip.

R: Where? You mean out-of-state?

K: It'll be a surprise.

R: Kamran, I can't agree to go on a trip without knowing where you're
taking me.

[Why not? Never understood this female rationale.]

K: Well, I'll give you a hint. It's a place that is your destiny
anyway.

R: Wow. Then I guess I better not fight it, huh?

K: It'll make you happy...which, as you know, is all I care about. (I
say in a way that betrays sincerity)

R: That's all you care about. I find that hard to believe.

K: (I smile) I think it's time to go to sleep, Ruby.

R: Yeah, it's late. Later, gator.

[What?]

K: Later, gator, did you say? What're we, living in Florida or
something? Who says that anyway?

[Laughs]

R: Whatever...sweet dreams, baby.

K: G'night, Ruby.