It was deep winter when Marjorie finally met up with Kumar. The Northeast winds had that year decided warm winters were to be a thing of the past and had subsequently ushered in blizzard like conditions nearly every week.

It had been about 3 months since the two of them had last met at the country club. Kumar having been invited there by Mr Levy ostensibly for a game of Bridge. Marjorie had not seen him leave the club that evening. In fact, she had stayed late, just so she could catch a glimpse of him, but eventually when her parents told her it was time to go, they did. Marjorie had called Kumar on serval occasions but had given up because he would never answer. In fact, she had decided to move on and focus on her studies until one day she walked into the cafeteria and low and behold, there was Kumar sitting by himself with a cup of hot something in front of him. He appeared to be deeply engrossed in reading and hadn’t noticed Marjorie walk up to him.

“Hello, Kumar,” she said quietly not wanting to alarm him. Kumar though immediately jumped up upon hearing his name and extended his hand. “What are you reading? Something for one of your classes?”

“No,” he answered indicating that she should join him by pointing to the chair closest to her. “No, it’s a novel, a historical fiction book actually.” He was very nervous and it showed.

“May I look at it?” Kumar marked the page he was on and slid it over to her. Marjorie looked at the title, ‘Sanjiv and Rachel.’ She raised her eyebrows.

“Looks interesting, what’s it about?”

“Maybe you want to borrow it when I’m done, so I won’t tell you the story.”

“Ok,” Marjorie wasn’t sure she really wanted to read it though. It wasn’t a genre she cared for. “Why are you hiding from me.” She asked directly sliding the book back across the table.

Kumar, still nervous, smiled and pointed to himself, “I’m not hiding from you, I’m here.” And then added quickly, “Can I get you something to eat or drink?”

“No thank you,” she wasn’t satisfied with his answer. “Well let’s put it this way, you haven’t been answering your phone.”

“True,” replied Kumar and then he sighed. “Look Marjorie, can we just be friends?”

“Well, that’s all we are right now, aren’t we?”

“True, very true, and let’s keep it that way. I think it’s for the best.”

“Well,” replied Marjorie sounding offended and then hesitated for a second, “oh Kumar, I’m sorry you thought this could ever become anything but a friendship. I could never have you as a boyfriend or even think of marrying you. We are from very different backgrounds. It wouldn’t last. After all, your Hindu and I’m Jewish. I have to marry someone from my religion.”

Kumar wasn’t expecting that broadside, at least not at that moment, but decided he couldn’t let it end like that.

“I already have someone picked out for me at home. So, I couldn’t consider you for marriage either.” That remark shocked Marjorie who for a moment lost her footing.

“You never told me that!”

“Why would I? We are just friends.”

“But when were you going to tell me that?”

“Probably never.” Kumar felt a little more confident now that he had Marjorie on her backfoot. “You just told me that you have to marry someone who’s Jewish and the same goes for me. I have to marry someone who is Hindu.”

“But,” began Marjorie trying desperately to gather her thoughts. “But I don’t have someone picked out for me.”

“That’s a shame Marjorie, except that in a sense you really do.”

“No I don’t!” she sounded indignant.

“I’m sorry, you’re right. You don’t have anyone picked out by name, but you do by religion, right?” She had to admit that Kumar was making sense. He didn’t want her to feel any more uncomfortable than she already was and would’ve ended the conversation there.

However, Marjorie wanted to make a point. “I did bring you to my parents’ house.”

“Yes you did and I thank you for that. I now know what to stay away from.”

“That’s not nice!”

“Neither is having to be told I have to be something I’m not. Oh look, here is Marjorie’s friend, a Maharaja. How nice to meet you.” Kumar took in a deep breath. “After all these past few months I have decided that I’m far more comfortable in my skin than you and your family are in theirs. Look Marjorie. I come from a hovel. Do you understand what hovel is?” Marjorie didn’t reply. “The shack I lived in didn’t having running water. Didn’t have a kitchen. My entire family lived in one room. We slept in one room. Yes, all of us. We went into the jungle to go to the bathroom. I never had a TV. We certainly didn’t have a car. But you know what Marjorie? We were happy. When I came home my parents hugged me. When I came home from school each afternoon my mother hugged me. She sat me down to tell her everything I learnt in school that day. Neither of my parents can read or write. The letters I get from them every month, are written by a neighbour who can read and write. But we are a happy family. We have no pretensions. I don’t have to pretend to be something I’m not. The last time I came to your place we went to Gruning’s, great ice cream by the way, but I noticed you look around a couple of times to see if you knew anybody before you said something to me. Tell me who’s company I’d rather be in? Someone who values me as a human being or who thinks of me being a circus animal for their benefit.” Kumar was on a roll. It was obvious he had allowed things to fester in and didn’t know the right avenue in which to release them, but now he did. Kumar stopped for a moment and closed his eyes. “Look Marjorie, when you and your family, and that also goes for some of your friends, want to accept me for who I am, then we can begin being friends otherwise we can’t.”

Marjorie wasn’t sure what to do next. She was, to put it mildly, stunned by his outburst. Even though he had not once raised his voice, she was certain everyone there were staring at her. Without saying another word, she got up and Kumar got up as well. She turned to leave. But after taking a step, she turned back and extended her hand to him.

“I think we should end this friendship I agree. I wish you nothing but the best this life has to offer and I truly mean that. I’m sure my parents in their own quirky way feel the same. They will be I’m sure, disappointed because they were actually beginning to like you.”

“But I’m not Jewish,” replied Kumar. Neither of them wanted to let go of the other’s hand, “and by the way,” he continued, “just one other thing. Regardless of what people said at the club, I don’t play Bridge. I’m not a champion Bridge player. I don’t even know how to spell Bridge.”

“Then why did Mr Levy invite you into the Bridge room?’

“To meet a friend of his who began a law firm many years ago and which is now one of the major law firms in the world.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Because he thought I could talk to Mr Sherman about going to law school.”

Marjorie slipped her hand out of Kumar’s, smiled sadly and left.