Goal: Dignity Conflict: Ram dresses down Disaster: Dilmit sees
The car pulled pulled out of Ram’s neighbourhood. Ram’s mum was driving. Ram and Happy sat in their finery. Happy wore his uncles suit from coming to Canada, oversized and brown. Ram wore something more fitted, likely for his time on the wedding circuit. Happy always work a discount dress shirt and his dads pants to those. The school had imposed a strict dress code, other Happy would’ve been in his usual uniform these days:his pants at his knees, with a long shirt to keep the world from seeing his boxers.
“What do you think you’re accomplishing?” Ram said.
Happy shrugged, not talking much, and not showing any interest in being there. Ram scoffed, compelling Happy to change his tact.
“I’m making a name for myself,” Happy said.
“You aren’t doing shit. You’re making a fool of yourself and your family name,” Ram said.
“Beta, be nice,” Ram’s mom said in her British accent. They were British Indian who’d come here before Ram was born.
“Mom, stay out of it,” Ram said.
That was all it took to get her to quiet down. Happy was secretly jealous of Ram’s western mom, who could drive a car, talk to white people and be reasoned with.
“I’m making it in high school. This isn’t about your jealousy,” Happy said.
“Jealousy? I feel sorry for you. You ditched me to hang with an alkie. If that’s how you’re loyal to your day ones, I feel bad for them when you do it to them,” Ram said.
“Would you do better? Dealing with booze, drugs, fights, guns?” Happy said, talking a big game.
They were pulling into another driveway in an adjacent neighbourhood.
“I wouldn’t let them corrupt me. I’d elevate them,” Ram said.
“You just want me to hang out with you, but you conventiently forget to mention that you used to treat me like shit. What you think the Young Gunz are doing to me now is what you were doing to me for years, phudu” Happy said.
The car door beside Happy opened up and Dilmit ducked low to get herself in. She was in a sari with her plump mid-driff showing just to the point of her belly button. Happy had asked Ram for a ride for both of them when Saad had discouraged him from taking her on the bus. Dilmit wore a fall coat over her dress to shield her parent’s eyes from the risque dress she was actually wearing. She had a lot of make-up on and looked better than usual.
“Hey,” Happy said, summoning the air and effort.
“Hi,” Dilmit said, meekly.
Ram turned around in his front passenger seat to make eye contact with Dilmit, but since she was directly behind him, his eyes ended up falling on Happy.
“Hi I’m Ram, Happy’s best friend,” Ram said.
“Hello there,” Dilmit said.
“You look stunning tonight,” Ram said.
“Thanks…” Dilmit said.
Happy started at Ram with hate.
“What song are you hoping for?” Ram said.
“Oh… I really like BLANK,” Dilmit said, lighting up.
“Yeah BLANK is the best. I have their CD, I’ll put it on the way,” Ram said.
“Awesome. Does that sound good Happy?” Dilmit said.
Dilmit turned to him to get him into the conversation and with a hint of Punjabi female defference. It made Happy feel sick.
“Whatever,” Happy said.