Erotic Stories for Punjabi Widows: A hilarious and heartwarming novel. Balli Jaswal Kaur
and how,’ Preetam said.
‘There are stories about men and women that I tell myself when I’m lying awake at night,’ Manjeet said. ‘It’s better than counting sheep or taking Rescue Remedy. It helps me to relax.’
‘I’m sure it does,’ Sheena said, raising an eyebrow. The women burst out laughing again.
‘Even Tarampal has some stories, I’m sure,’ said Arvinder.
‘You leave me out of this,’ Tarampal warned.
Suddenly, the door of the classroom swung open. Kulwinder Kaur stood with her arms crossed over her chest. ‘What is going on here?’ she demanded. ‘I can hear the commotion all the way from my office.’
The women were silent with shock for a moment and then Preetam Kaur said, ‘Sorry. We were laughing because I couldn’t pronounce a word.’
‘Yes,’ Arvinder said. ‘Nikki said this word in English which means “aubergine” but we couldn’t say it.’ The women tittered again. Nikki nodded and smiled at Kulwinder as if to say, ‘What can you do?’ She placed her palm flat on the story on her desk.
It was fortunate that Tarampal was sitting so close to the door. Her workbook was wide open and looked very legitimate. Nikki just hoped she wouldn’t say anything. She still looked gravely unhappy with the women.
‘I need to talk to you outside for a moment,’ Kulwinder said to Nikki.
‘Sure,’ Nikki said. ‘Sheena, can you please write the alphabet on the board? I’ll test you all when I come back.’ She shot Sheena a stern look and followed Kulwinder outside.
Kulwinder fixed Nikki with a stare. ‘I hired you to teach these women, not stand around telling jokes,’ she said. ‘I don’t know what they’re doing but it doesn’t look like learning.’
Through the window, Nikki could see the women staring at the board and Sheena dutifully writing the letters. Tarampal was hunched over her desk, working her pencil hard into the paper. She looked up to check the roundness of her D against Sheena’s on the board. ‘Nobody said learning couldn’t be fun,’ Nikki said.
‘This job requires a degree of respect and professionalism. Your respect is clearly questionable because you’ll smoke on temple grounds. I have high doubts about your professional standards.’
‘I’m handling the job just fine,’ Nikki said. ‘I’m doing exactly what you asked of me.’
‘If you were, then I wouldn’t have to remind you to keep the noise down. You realize, don’t you, that any small misstep means that these classes could be shut down? As it is, we have very few participants.’
‘Look, Kulwinder, I get that you want these classes to go well but I didn’t realize I’d be under constant surveillance. The women are learning. You need to back off and let me do my job.’
A storm cloud seemed to take over Kulwinder’s expression. Her lips became menacingly thin. ‘I think you’re forgetting something very important,’ she said, her voice suddenly low and steady. ‘I am your boss. I hired you. You should thank me for taking you on even though your only skills were pouring drinks. You should thank me for coming here to remind you to remain focused. You should thank me for letting you off with a warning. I didn’t come here for a discussion. I came here to remind you of your responsibilities, something you are clearly lacking. Understand?’
Nikki swallowed, hard. ‘I understand.’ Kulwinder looked at her expectantly. ‘And thank you,’ Nikki whispered. Tears of humiliation burned in her eyes.
She waited for a few moments before re-entering the classroom. The women’s eyes were wide in anticipation. Even Tarampal was looking up from her book.
‘We have to get back to work,’ Nikki said, blinking furiously.
Thankfully, there were no arguments. Arvinder, Tarampal, Preetam and Manjeet accepted an exercise on consonants. Sheena practised writing a persuasive speech. While the women worked, Nikki couldn’t help replaying the humiliating confrontation in her mind. She told herself that Kulwinder probably chastised everybody but her harsh words had hit a raw nerve. Your only skills were pouring drinks. Lacking responsibility. Here Nikki had been trying to steer the women back towards literacy to avoid getting into trouble but did Kulwinder recognize her efforts? It didn’t matter if Nikki did the right thing. It was still wrong.
The time passed quickly while Nikki was lost in her thoughts. Even her fights with Mum didn’t leave her feeling so helpless. If Kulwinder was like this as a boss, imagine what she had been like as a parent to her rebellious daughter. Nikki glanced at the clock.
‘Is everybody finished?’ she asked.
The women nodded. Nikki took up the consonants worksheets. Arvinder’s wobbly handwriting made her H’s look like M’s but she had persisted until Z, slashed across the lines like a lightning bolt. Preetam’s handwriting was more precise but she only reached J before time was up. Manjeet had ignored the consonants entirely, choosing instead to write A E I O U at the top of the page as if revising what she had learned before.
What was there to do besides feeding more worksheets to the women, more rote practices? This reproduced string of alphabets looked as uninspired as any other monotonous task that filled these widows’ days. If they continued on this path, the women would stop showing up. Nikki could already sense their restlessness. As she scanned the worksheets, a debate clamoured in her mind. She’d been hired to teach English, yes, but hadn’t she only signed up because she thought she’d be empowering women? If the widows wanted to share erotic stories, who was she to censor them?
‘You’ve all worked very hard today,’ Nikki said. ‘These practices are good.’ She handed the worksheets back to the women. Then she smiled. ‘But I think your stories would be better.’
The women looked at each other and grinned. Only Tarampal scowled and crossed her arms over her chest. ‘I promise to continue to teach you how to read and write,’ Nikki said to her. ‘But the rest of you are welcome to bring in your stories. We must make sure to be very quiet from now on though.’
‘See you on Tuesday,’ Sheena said on her way out the door.
‘See you all then,’ Nikki said. ‘Oh, and if you see Bibi Kulwinder, remember to say thank you.’ And fuck you, she thought.
The following Tuesday Nikki made sure to leave time for the quick odour-neutralizing routine she had practised to perfection as a teenager. Pre-cigarette, it involved pulling her hair back into a bun and taking off her jacket to avoid clinging smoke smells and then, after, a dose of extra-strong mints and a spray of extra-strong perfume.
Nikki was in the middle of her perfume bath when a face appeared and then flitted out of her view. ‘Sorry,’ the man belonging to the face said. She only caught a glimpse but she noticed that he was cute. A moment later, she stepped out of the corner and saw him leaning against the wall.
‘It’s all yours,’ she said.
‘Thanks,’ he said, ducking in. ‘I just needed to make a phone call.’
‘Sure,’ Nikki said. ‘Me too.’
‘No, you were clearly smoking. It’s not very good for you,’ he said as he lit his own cigarette. ‘You really shouldn’t.’
‘Neither should you.’
‘True,’ he said. ‘Is it just me or do they taste even better in hiding?’
‘Much better,’ Nikki agreed. As a teenager, she used to smoke in the park behind her house, her adrenaline surging each time she saw Mum or Dad’s silhouette crossing the window. ‘Especially when your parents are within sight.’
‘Ever got caught?’
‘No. You?’
‘Oh yeah. It was bad.’ Nikki watched