A/N - With this story, I'm taking one minor aspect of Indian culture and tripling down on it. In addition to this aspect, I've added an Australian flavour regarding a topic I've covered in other stories. And it's the first story where the country won't feature all that much compared to all previous stories in this series.
Previous stories in this series:
Love Around the World - Andorra (Mature)
Love Around the World - Bangkok (Interracial)
Love Around the World - Colombia (Transgender)
Love Around the World - Dresden (Romance)
Love Around the World - Estonia (Group Sex)
Love Around the World - France (Anal)
Love Around the World - Guangzhou (Interracial)
Love Around the World - Hungary (Incest)
Australian / British standard English. There is a good chance of reading the following: lots of profanity, characters drinking, typos, and bad grammar at times.
Proofreading and editing suggestions provided by OhDave1. Any mistakes are still mine.
Comments are appreciated as always.
Feedback by email is always welcome. Enjoy chatting with anyone who likes my work.
*****
She does end up marrying the man she truly loves.
*****
Present day...
Standing near the back of the audience, I was still surprised I'd even been invited. I wasn't the only white Australian there. There were plenty of us mixed in with the rest as though there were elements of Hinduism, it was pretty much a non-secular sort of event, the sort of wedding seen throughout Australia nowadays. Plenty of people still married with all the trappings of religion, doing so 'in the eyes of God', but this wedding was more about a commitment between two people and the joining of two large families.
Of course, I knew the bride wasn't exactly enamoured by the whole process. I was waiting for her to appear as I knew she'd be searching for my face when walking by on the arm of her father.
"Have you spoken to her lately?" Mike asked from behind me.
"Nah. She's gone radio silent and for good reason. The only reason I was even invited is that I reckon if I wasn't, she wouldn't have turned up to make one final statement before she's practically forced down the aisle."
"Her father still doesn't like you?"
"He's never liked me because he's never thought I was good enough for his daughter, and that's ignoring the fact I'm a bogan white man in his eyes."
"You are a bogan... Sort of..."
"Yeah, being from the western suburbs, despite the fact he lives in the same area. Anyway, I know he couldn't beat the thought of his daughter being married to a mechanic. Not good enough for her father. Not good enough at all. There's a reason why she's pretty much been shunted in the direction of her future husband."
"How old is he again?"
"At least ten years older, I think. Don't know the guy. Met him once or twice. Seen how he looked at me. But I know she never wanted this, but her father was always going to get his way."
I fell silent as everyone around me stood up when the doors opened and Shanti appeared on the arm of her father. While he was looking proud as punch, the fact her face was almost stone should have told everyone what she thought about what was about to happen. As they slowly walked towards us, her eyes turned towards me, and I could see her struggling not to start crying. As soon as her father glanced away to look at someone else, I mouthed three simple words in her direction. She didn't dare return those words in front of everyone, including the groom waiting for her nearby, though I knew she was thinking of them.
I understood tradition. I understood culture. I understood why it was happening. Didn't mean I liked and accepted it. And I hated the fact that she was practically being forced into it at the same time.
*****
The past...
I'd met Shanti on our first day at high school. We hadn't attended the same primary school so when we found ourselves in the same group to make introductions, I couldn't help finding myself rather captivated by her. Long dark hair that was almost down to the middle of her back. A pair of gorgeous deep brown eyes. Her skin was fairer than I thought it would be. And though her heritage was rather obvious given her surname, there was no missing the fact she was born in Australia when she opened her mouth.
Not quite a bogan though it suggested a thoroughly Australian upbringing.
I'm not exactly sure how we struck up a friendship given I was your typical teenager of the time, obsessed with playing sport, cars and gaming. But we found ourselves in many of the same classes and I wasn't shy in striking up conversation with her. What I learned very quickly is that I enjoyed making her laugh. She had that sort of laugh that made you feel good about yourself.
By the time we were sixteen, it was obvious that I was her best friend as much as she was mine. I knew I had strong feelings for her and hers for me were also obvious. I finally plucked up the courage to ask her out. That's when she almost broke my heart.
"I'd date you in a heartbeat, Mark," she said, taking one of my hands in hers, "But I can't. I'm not allowed to date."
"You're not allowed to date?"
"I'm not allowed to date boys like you. Non-Indian. Anglo's. White boys."
"Really?" I asked. I had no idea that would have been a problem, "Why?" She sighed and I moved closer to her, meeting her eyes as I could see the sadness immediately. "Shanti... I know how you feel in return. It's not difficult to figure out, even for someone as oblivious as I most of the time."
"If my father learned I was dating you, Mark, he'd kill me. Not literally, but to say he'd be disappointed... He already asks a million and one questions whenever you come around to study."
"What does your mother think?"
"According to my father, her opinion isn't important." Then she smiled. "But my mother adores you. Again, it means nothing. What my father wants and expects is what matters. I am expected to get almost perfect marks every year. I will be expected to get into university. I will be expected to focus on a career that meets his approval. I will then be expected to... marry someone only he approves of."
"Well... That fucking sucks..."
That made her laugh before she started to cry. I held her to my chest as I was left feeling rather hopeless. I knew university wasn't on my horizon. I was going to remain at school until I'd completed my final exams, but I knew what I was going to do with my life. Shanti knew about the car in the garage at my house which I was busy working on. I did wonder if another reason why her father disapproved of me was the fact my parents were divorced. My father walked out on us years ago and I had little to do with the man any longer. My uncle, my mother's brother, was the one who was helping me restore the old car.
"I'm guessing there's nothing I can do to change his mind?"
"Turn Indian and study to become a doctor or lawyer?"
"Well, I definitely can't do the first thing, and I honestly don't think I'd have a chance at either of the latter." Stroking her back, she sighed as I asked, "So we'll just remain friends then?"
"I want more than that, Mark. I promise you, I want more than that too. I know how I feel about you as much as it's obvious how you feel about me."
We might not have been allowed to date, but that didn't stop us from spending as much time as possible together. She would come to my place to study, and I would go to her place. Her father worked full-time, and her mother was a housewife. She would always greet me with a smile before we'd disappear off to Shanti's bedroom. Had to keep the door open at all times, not that we'd be doing anything other than study. I knew Shanti worked incredibly hard to achieve the marks she was expected to get. The pressure on her was immense. And it wasn't just her. I knew her brothers had even more pressure on them.
Entering our last year at high school as eighteen-year-olds, I ended up being her main support as I knew how demanding her father was. More than once, I'd find her somewhere in the library in a quiet corner, leaning back against a wall, almost curled up in a ball, crying to herself. She'd sense me nearby and would practically crawl into my lap when I sat next to her.
Every afternoon was spent studying. I didn't have her brains. My role was simply to support her however I could. More often than not, she preferred to come to my place as it was more peaceful, my older sister was a university student and someone Shanti could ask questions if she was struggling with something.
It was a tough year for her. She wasn't allowed a part-time job, and was expected to devote any free time to studying and extracurricular activities. I did work, so whenever she was allowed out, usually her mother stepping in and ensuring she was given free time to actually enjoy her life, I'd take her out for a few hours, whether it was something simple like a burger, some ice cream, or occasionally we'd go watch a movie.
We went to see a movie every couple of weeks. I'd buy us a big bucket of popcorn to share and a drink each. And the cinema closest to where we lived had either individual seats or there were six two-seat lounges that we could use. I always picked the lounges as they gave Shanti the perfect excuse to curl up and cuddle into me.
Though I would prefer something more action-oriented each time, we always alternated on who got to choose what to watch. She loved romantic comedies, and it was the third time she'd chosen where there was a particularly romantic scene on the screen where she turned to me. She probably didn't know that I would occasionally watch her, but when her eyes met mine and she smiled, there was no hesitation when it came to sharing our first kiss.
"About time," she whispered, "Though we have to be careful, Mark."
"We're not dating. We're just friends."
"Friends who are definitely going to kiss from now on..." She leaned back slightly. "I know you've dated a bit and..."
"You know I would never... I mean..."
"Mark, I told you two years ago that I couldn't date you, so I wouldn't expect you to not date anyone else. I know you've dated girls at school, but you're always careful of my feelings."
