Nora came home early. "There is a good film on television tonight, Richard," she said, "shall we watch it together ?"
Richard was surprised. Nora was his wife, and she usually went out every evening. The last of their children got married and left home three months ago. This would be their first evening together since then.
"Yes," said Richard, "a good idea, Nora. Shall we do the washing up together, like we did when the children were small ?"
Nora laughed and said, "Okay, but we have both grown up since then."
Richard wondered what she meant, and he wondered why she was so friendly. He thought, "She must want something."
"How is work going ?" Nora asked.
Richard was a builder. He did not build houses. He only built factories, shops and offices. Many people worked for him, and Richard and Nora were quite rich.
"I am surprised you ask, Nora," said Richard. "I have a new job now. Do you remember Kira Carpets, the Indian people ?"
"Of course," said Nora, "are they going to have a new shop ?"
"Yes," said Richard, "they want me to build a bigger shop for them. We will get a lot of money." This was not quite true. Richard was bored and he did not care if Kira Carpets wanted him to build their new shop, or not. He did not work out the price very carefully, and he had got the job because he was cheaper than the other builders.Next week Kira invited Richard to his house for a party. Kira wanted to celebrate starting to build his new carpet shop. Kira introduced Richard to his wife, Riza, and to Riza's twin sister Dari. Richard had met Indian people before, but he had never been to an Indian home. "I hope you like our carpets," Kira joked. "They are the very best, of course !"
Richard could see that everyone liked Dari. She was very beautiful, and she wore very expensive clothes and a lot of jewellery.
"My sister, Dari, is not married," said Riza. "Are you ?"
"Yes, I am married," Richard replied, "but I cannot understand why your beautiful sister is not married."
Riza laughed. "No man can catch her," Riza said. "Dari is a fashion designer in London, and she drives a very fast sports car."
Richard laughed, and then Riza asked, "Would you like another drink ?"
Richard and Riza drank together. Richard noticed that all the men wanted to talk to Dari, but when Richard saw Riza's soft brown eyes, he was glad he was talking to her.
"You seem quite different to your sister," Richard said.
"I know we both look the same," said Riza, "but we are really quite different. Dari has a very exciting life. She is always travelling to New York or Paris or somewhere, and she has a new boyfriend every month."
"What about you ?" asked Richard. "Is your life exciting ?"
"Not really," Riza replied. "I was happy when my children were small, but now they are grown up and married, they do not need me anymore. My husband, Kira, thinks only about making money from his carpet shop - oh, of course, you are going to build his new shop, aren't you ?"
"Yes," said Richard, "but it is strange. I did not really want to build his new shop, but something told me to get the job."
"Oh," said Riza. "Do you believe in destiny ?"
"I have never really thought about destiny," said Richard. "Do you mean the idea that somehow our life is planned for us ?"
"I can see that you have a lot to learn," said Riza. She wanted to explain to Richard, but Kira put on some music for Dari to dance, and everyone watched her. Richard could not speak to Riza again. As Richard went home, he wondered what Riza wanted to tell him.When Richard got home from Kira's party, his wife, Nora, said that she had something important to tell Richard. "Do you remember Nigel," Nora asked. Richard said that he did.
"I have been seeing Nigel every day," said Nora. "I am afraid to say that we like each other. Actually, Nigel and I like each other rather a lot."
"Are you in love with Nigel ?" asked Richard.
"Yes, I am," said Nora.
Richard was still thinking about Riza, and he did not really care very much what Nora did. Richard went to his bed.
Next day Richard tried to work, but he kept thinking about meeting Riza at the party. He thought, "What did she mean when she said that I had a lot to learn ? Did she mean about the idea of destiny ?" He decided to telephone her. He made up a reason to talk to her. "Is that Riza ? This is Richard," he said. "I think I left my gloves at your house last night. Can I come to get them, please ?"
"Yes, of course," said Riza. "Come anytime, I am not busy today."
Richard went to Riza's house. Riza was alone. "I cannot find any gloves," she said.
Richard laughed. "I am afraid it was not a very good reason to come to see you," he said. "I wanted to finish talking to you. I hope you are not angry."
"No, I am glad you came," Riza said. "I get very lonely."
"Please tell me what you meant about destiny," asked Richard.
"There is a lot to learn," Riza said. "Maybe we can talk at your house. My husband will be jealous if he knows you have come here when I am alone. Does your wife stay at home ?"Next day Richard told his wife, Nora, that Riza would come. "I am building a new carpet shop for her husband. They are important customers," Richard explained. Nora went out before Riza came.
"You are wearing Western clothes," said Richard, rather surprised.
"I do not want Indian people to see me," said Riza.
"Please tell me more about destiny," asked Richard.
"Well, life is like a stream, or a river," said Riza, "and we float along the stream. Sometimes we go fast and see different things or different people, and sometimes we stay in a small pool and see the same things."
"That is very interesting," said Richard. "Which is best ?"
"They are both good," said Riza. "It is good to meet different people, like you, and also it is good to keep old friends and family."They talked for a long time. Richard felt he wanted to tell her everything about himself, and Riza listened carefully to everything that Richard said.
Riza told Richard about herself. "I am so lonely now," she said. "Nobody knows how unhappy I am. When my children were small I knew many English women. We always used to talk when we took our children to school. Later when our children grew older, my husband moved to a bigger house. He liked it, but his life did not change like mine. He still went to work and he still had the same friends as before. But we had moved away from my friends, and I never see them now. It is very difficult to make friends when you are older, and now our two daughters have got married and moved to London."
"But surely you have Indian friends ?" asked Richard.
"Only my sister, Dari," said Riza. "No one else likes us because we are rich."
"What about your husband, Kira ?" asked Richard.
"I do not trust him," said Riza sadly. "He has many different people to work in his shop, but his secretary is always the same woman. Often he does not come home at night. I think he stays at her house."
Riza went home.
Richard and Riza met each other every day. If the weather was nice they went for a walk. If it was raining they would talk or play cards at Richard's house, and Richard did not get much work done. One day Riza brought a book of photographs. They sat at a table and looked at them.
"Here is a picture of me when I was just married," said Riza. "I was beautiful then."
"You are still very beautiful," Richard said. Then he waited a moment and asked, "Can I kiss you ?"
Riza looked surprised, but she leaned across the table and they kissed. Richard wanted to kiss her again. Riza said she must go. Riza put on her coat and went home.
Richard thought, "How stupid I am ? Now she is angry, and I will never see her again."
But Richard did not know how Riza felt. Riza thought she was walking on air. That night she thought of Richard, then she thought about all her life, then she thought of Richard again, but still she could not sleep. In the morning she was very tired.
Richard was still angry with himself. He wanted to telephone Riza and say that he was sorry, but he was frightened that she would still be angry. There was a lot of work for him to do. He tried to work, but he could not. He kept thinking, "What a stupid mistake I have made."Two days later Riza telephoned. Richard said, "I am very sorry."
"What for ?" asked Riza. "I am not angry. Please, Richard, I want to come and see you today." This made Richard very happy.
When Riza came, she wrote something on her hand, and then she showed it to Richard. It said, "I love you."
Richard could hardly believe it. He was so pleased. Then he saw how happy Riza was. "We must be careful," said Richard. "If your husband sees how happy you are, or if you start singing or laughing, he will guess."
"I do not care," said Riza.
"But we must be careful," said Richard, "or it will be difficult for us to meet. You must pretend to be angry, kick the door and shout at people. Have you been in love before ?"
"No," said Riza.
"Then how do you know ?" asked Richard, smiling.
"I just know," said Riza. "I never loved my husband. My father decided on our marriage, because it is difficult in England for an Indian girl to meet an Indian man she likes. I thought I was happy then, but now I know what happiness really is."
"I feel the same," said Richard, "but it is better to say that we "like each other very much". It will be very difficult for us. I want to be with you all the time. Maybe we should pretend we are brother and sister."
"Brother and sister ?" Riza laughed. "That is a good idea. Perhaps one day we can get married, but I think we will have to wait a long time, maybe many years."
Riza stayed longer than usual. Richard helped her put on her coat, but as he kissed her goodbye, Richard's wife, Nora, came home. Riza hurried out.
"Disgusting," said Nora, "you kissing that Indian woman. I suppose you want to marry her ?"
"She is already married," said Richard.
"I want a divorce," said Nora. "You have been unfaithful to me."
Now Richard knew what Nora wanted. She was a clever woman. She had let Richard and Riza meet so that she could see them together and ask for a divorce. Richard thought, "she must want to marry Nigel."
"Alright," said Richard, "I agree. Our children are grown up now, and so we do not have to worry about them. You were a good mother and we were happy together, but I see it is all finished now."Richard did not see Riza the next day, because she went to London. Richard hoped, "maybe Riza can divorce her husband too."
On the next day Richard's telephone rang. Richard thought it was Riza, but an Indian man said, "I am the manager at Kira's shop. Please do not talk to him today. He is very sad because his wife has died."
"What ?" cried Richard, "Riza ?"
"Yes," said the man. "She went to London with her sister Dari. They were in a car crash when they came home. Riza was killed and Dari was badly burned."Richard wanted to die. Riza was dead and his wife, Nora, was going to divorce him. Richard thought that he would soon get ill if he sat thinking about Riza all day. He decided he must work hard to forget. Unfortunately he was still building the new shop for Kira, Riza's husband.
Kira invited Richard to Riza's funeral. Richard hated seeing people buried, but he had to go. He noticed that one woman was always near Kira. Richard thought, "that must be Kira's secretary." While Riza was being buried Richard wondered if he should visit Dari in hospital, but he decided that it was all finished now.
Richard stayed at the grave a long time and did not see that everyone else had gone. The Indian priest walked up to him and said, "Here is my address. Please visit me if you think I can help you." Richard put the card in his pocket and went home.
At work there were problems with the new shop. Many things had gone wrong while Richard had been spending so much time seeing Riza. Some bricks were the wrong size, the doors were the wrong colour and no one had ordered the windows. There was a lot to do.
Richard felt worse when he was at home, alone at night. He could not forget Riza. He thought, "that is the chair where she sat when she came here for the first time. This is the table where she showed me her photographs." He tried reading, he tried sleeping, and he did not want to start smoking or drinking, because he knew he would never stop. One day he found the address of the priest in his pocket, and he thought, "I will go and see him. Perhaps he can help me."
The Indian priest lived in a small house, with few pieces of furniture. It was very different to Riza's big house, but Richard felt at peace there. "I do not really know why I have come," said Richard. "I am not religious."
"You must believe in something, God, fate, destiny, or some sort of plan to your life," said the priest.
"Yes, I suppose I do," said Richard. "I met Riza at Kira's party, and she talked about destiny. She said life is like a stream."
"No, my son," said the priest. "Life is much more than a stream. The stream is a very simple idea, because you never know where the stream will take you. People think of the stream idea when they are unhappy, because they think that it is the stream of their life that has brought them unhappiness."
"But Riza was unhappy and it was not her fault," said Richard.
"You must have loved her very much," said the priest, smiling.
"How do you know ?" asked Richard. "Does everyone know ?"
"No, I do not think anyone else knows, but to me these things are clear," replied the priest. "You want to forget, don't you ? But you do not know how. Am I right ?"
Richard nodded.
"The holy books tell us that when we lose ourselves, we find ourselves," continued the priest. "This means that when we lose ourselves by helping other people with their problems, we escape from our own problems, and then we find our true selves."
"I do not understand how we can escape from our own problems," said Richard.
"Well, we still have our problems of course," said the priest, "but when we think about them again, after we have seen other people's problems, ours do not seem so important. It is when we can forget our own problems that we can properly think about ourselves. Have you ever thought about helping other people ?"
"Not really," said Richard.
"That is why you cannot believe in God," said the priest. "The holy books tell us that when we are in the service of our fellow beings we are only in the service of our God."
"What does that mean ?" asked Richard.
"It means that when we do something for someone else, we are doing it for God," said the priest.
Richard was surprised. He had never thought of anything like that before.
"Have you ever thought that life is a gift ?" asked the priest.
"A gift ? No, but please continue," said Richard.
"Our life is a gift," said the priest, "and when our life is finished we have to explain how we used the gift. Some people are born rich, and some are born poor, but it is not important how much we are born with, or how much comes to us in life. What is important, is how we use our gift. I think I have said enough, but before you go, let me tell you something else. "Where much is given, much is required." Will you remember that ?"
Richard thanked the priest and said goodbye.
Richard was glad he had gone to see the priest. The priest had not made him forget Riza, but now he did not feel so unhappy when he thought about her. Also he could not forget what the priest had said, "where much is given, much is required." Richard thought, "I am quite lucky really. I live in a good country, I had good parents, I have good health, I am well educated, I have my own business, I am quite rich, I married a good woman and we have good children. So really, if life is a gift, my gift is a big one."
Richard found it easier to work now. Often he thought of Riza, but now he could smile when he thought about her. He thought, "I am glad I met her. We made each other happy."
In the evening Richard thought about the idea that life is a gift. "I am lucky, because my gift is a big one, and so, I need to say a big thank-you. That is what is required, doing something to say thank-you. But what ?"
Richard could not sleep. He thought, "Perhaps I should sell my business and go to Africa or India to help poor people. I think that would be a good way to say thank-you."
Things were going well at work, and Kira's new carpet shop was nearly finished. Richard wrote to Oxfam and Save the Children to ask if he could help in poor countries.One month later the shop was finished, but Richard received bad news about working in poor countries.
Richard went to see the Indian priest again. He told the priest that he wanted to help people in poor countries, to say thank-you for his lucky life. The priest was pleased. Then Richard told the priest that he could not get a job to help people in India or Africa or anywhere. "No one wants me," he said. "Some people say I am too old, others only want doctors, nurses or English teachers, and not a builder."
"Lift where you stand," said the priest.
"What do you mean, "lift where you stand" ?" asked Richard.
"If many men want to carry something that is heavy, do they all lift at one end ? Perhaps you would like to come back tomorrow," said the priest.
Next day Richard thought about what the priest had said. "I want to help, to lift, but I am here in England, not in India. So perhaps I must help people here. Perhaps it will be best. If I go to India I will be very unhappy when I see beautiful women who remind me of Riza." He went to see the priest that evening.
"You are very wise," said Richard. "Now I think I understand how to "lift where you stand". I must find some way to help here in England. But how can I help ? No one in England is really poor, not like in India."
"You were Riza's friend," said the priest. "She was lonely and you made her happy. Loneliness is a big problem here in England. Here everyone lives in their own little house watching television instead of meeting other people. Also you are a clever man, a builder. I am sure that you will find a way to say thank-you."
Next day Richard wondered how a builder could help lonely people. He thought, "I could make a building for people to meet in. I have enough money to build it myself."
Later he remembered what Riza had said about how difficult it was for a girl to find a man she liked. Richard thought, "That is because there are few Indian people to meet. Perhaps I can make a building where young Indian people can meet, then they can see each other and choose who they want to marry. That would be much better than their parents telling them. They need to meet people from different parts of the country, so it must be a place where people can stay for a few days - a hostel. I will ask the priest what he thinks."
Richard was very excited and he told his plans to the priest.
They decided that the hostel was a good idea, but it needed someone to live there all the time. So they decided to have a small temple there as well, and a house for the priest, so that he could also be in-charge of the hostel.
"What will you call it ?" asked the priest. "If you build it for us, it must be you who gives it a name."
"I will call it the Riza Hostel," said Richard. "I hope people will find it usefull."The Riza Hostel was a great success. Young Indian people came from all over the country. They met each other on festival days, and many people got married. The priest was happy to see this, and Richard began to feel that now he was doing something really useful with his life.
It was three years since Riza had died. Richard could still not forget her. Sometimes he missed her very much, and he would go and sit in the temple all night. When the priest heard Richard open the door, the priest would go to see if Richard needed anything. Usually they would talk, but sometimes Richard said nothing, and the two men sat in the darkness together, often for several hours.
One evening the priest telephoned Richard and asked him to come to the temple that night.
"Promise me that you will not ask any questions, and that you will leave when I tell you ?" asked the priest.
"Alright," said Richard, wondering what was going to happen. The priest made Richard sit by a curtain, and then he switched off the light. After a few minutes Richard heard someone softly say, "Richard," and the voice sounded just like Riza's !
"Richard," the voice said again, "I am Riza. I am alive, but you must remember your promise to the priest."
Richard jumped up, and he tried to pull down the curtain, but the priest stopped him. "Yes, it really is Riza," said the priest, "but you must not try to look at her. Remember your promise. Come back tomorrow at midnight."
Richard could hardly wait to go to the temple again. He kept thinking, "Riza is alive." He wanted to shout it to everyone. But then he thought, "How can she be alive ? I saw her buried. What has happened ?"
He had many questions to ask the priest that night, and the priest told him everything. "When Riza and her sister Dari went to London," the priest said, "they changed their clothes and Riza drove Dari's car home. It was Dari who was killed when they crashed, not Riza, but because of the fire, everyone thought the dead passenger in the car was Riza. Riza was badly burned, and that is why she does not want you to look at her. She was in hospital for over a year, and she could not talk for a long time. Everyone called her Dari and told her that Riza was dead, so since then she has let everyone think she is Dari."
"Who knows she is really Riza ?" asked Richard.
"Only you and I," said the priest, "so please do not tell anyone. I visited her in hospital many times, and I told her that you were building a hostel for us. She asked me if she could live here quietly in the hostel after leaving hospital. When she came here she told me who she really is."
"Can I see her ?" asked Richard.
"You can talk to her, but you must not look at her," said the priest. "She wants you to remember how she looked before the accident. Talk to her for ten minutes, then come back tomorrow."
Richard sat by the curtain again. "I heard the priest talking to you," said Riza. "Here, hold my hand."
"Why did you and Dari change clothes ?" asked Richard.
"Dari was really very unhappy," said Riza. "She had everything a woman could ever want, clothes, money, jewellery, everything except children. We went to a fashion show in London that day. We had changed clothes before, when she thought that a show would be boring. She liked to pretend that she was my married sister, with two daughters. I did it because it made her happy. Unfortunately, as we left, everyone wanted to see Dari drive her new sports car, so I had to drive, and later we crashed."
"But they told me that you had been killed, not Dari," said Richard.
"I do not remember how it happened," said Riza, "I only remember waking up in hospital. My face was covered in bandages and I could not speak. People called me Dari, and they told me that my sister, Riza, had been killed. I thought about it for a long time, and then I decided that it was my destiny, so I pretended I really was Dari. I was very pleased when I heard that you were building the hostel. What a clever idea, and what a good man you are ! When I heard that it was called the Riza Hostel I asked to stay here, because I knew you still remembered me, and that I would be able to see you again, my darling Richard."
"My darling Riza," laughed Richard. "Do you want me to call you Dari or Riza ?"
"Please call me Riza," she said, "I like to hear you say it, but remember I am Dari to everyone else."
"Can I see your face ?" asked Richard.
"Please, no, Richard," said Riza. "Remember me how I was before. Let me put your hand on my cheek. Now you understand. A nurse comes every day. She says it will be many years before my skin will be well again, then you can see me. Maybe I will get better quicker if you can come to see me every day. I have missed you very much."
"And I have missed you," said Richard. "Of course I will come to see you every day."
Richard visited Riza every day. Sometimes he saw part of her face or her arm. Her hair grew longer, and one day Riza let Richard see all of her face. "You really are getting better," said Richard.
"I want to leave here soon," said Riza, "now that I am free."
"Free ?" asked Richard.
"Yes, and you are free also," said Riza, "now that you are divorced from your wife."
"But you are still married," said Richard.
"Look, Richard," said Riza, smiling. "My husband, Kira, and everyone else think that Riza is dead. I am sure Kira is not sorry, because he has married his secretary. Now that everyone thinks I am Dari, who was never married, you are free to marry 'Dari', if you still want to."
"Oh, yes, of course," said Richard, very pleased. "I want to marry you very much."
Later Richard married a beautiful Indian lady called Dari, and they were both very happy together. But, there is something their friends do not understand. Sometimes they hear Richard call his new wife "Riza".
[© Martin, 1988 Nov, words = 4726, revision 071103]
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