Jagdeep Kahlon of Punjab

"Having a fascination with Sikh women is a bad habit for a Muslim man, especially one of African descent," cautioned my friend Sanjay Singh, the young Hindu guy I've known since first year at Algonquin College. We were both newcomers to the City of Ottawa, Ontario, and started school at the same time. In spite of our different backgrounds, we bonded. I've always had much respect and affection for Sanjay, who's a smart and decent young man. I simply never listen to what he has to say...

"Dude, how could you say that? If you saw Jagdeep's big beautiful ass, you'd understand why I have to holler," I reply, and Sanjay rolls his eyes. We're in the Nepean Centrepointe library, and like many soon-to-be graduates, we're working on our resumes. I'll be getting my police foundations degree from Algonquin College in a few weeks, and I'm looking at jobs around Ottawa and the rest of Ontario.

I'm thinking of becoming a By-Law Officer. My ideal job is to be a police officer, but I'm still in my twenties and I don't think they like to hire guys who are that young, with paper-thin resumes. That's the thing about life for educated young minority guys in Ottawa. We graduate from local colleges and universities, and the government won't hire us because we lack experience, and won't let us get the experience that comes with having a job in the first place. It's the ultimate Catch Twenty-Two...

"It's all about the butt with you, Ishaq, you'll never change," Sanjay replies, and I'm about to chide him some more when the librarian, a tall white dude with thick nerdy glasses, walks by and flashes us that annoying smile that usually precedes the proverbial shushing. Sanjay is graduating with a degree in accounting, and wants to work for the Canada Revenue Agency. I could totally see my favorite short, bald-headed South Asian bro working as a government lackey. He's got the bland personality for it, and everything...

After polishing my resume, I forwarded it to various employment agencies, and those job hunting spots that do staffing solutions for various companies. I want to work in law enforcement, and while being a police officer or a corrections officer are the top spots, they aren't everything. I even looked at several private security companies, such as the Commissionaires, and Securitas Canada. I've worked as a rent-a-cop in the past, and it was alright, for the most part. Just not what I thought I'd be doing after college, you know?

I've been through a lot lately, even though I act cool instead of being melodramatic like some people would. I, Isaac Sylvestre, was born on the island of Haiti in 1992. My parents, Luther and Anne-Marie Sylvestre would visit Canada with me in my younger days. I fell in love with this beautiful country in those halcyon days, long before the dark times which plagued my family and my country of birth. Those were the days, I tell you...

My paternal uncle, Louis Sylvestre, lived in the City of Orleans, Ontario, and we would stay with him during our summer vacations. After the 2010 Earthquake which devastated the City of Port-Au-Prince, the island of Haiti was no longer stable, and my parents sent me to live with my uncle Louis in Canada. My early days in Ottawa weren't easy, since I was far from home, and Canada has a complex history when it comes to taking refugees.

Fast forward seven years, and I'm now a permanent resident of Canada, after much wrangling with the immigration authorities. I embraced Islam a couple of years ago, and now go by the moniker Brother Ishaq. If you must know, Ishaq is the Arabic form of the Biblical name Isaac. You don't see a lot of Haitian Muslims. I come from a Catholic background but fell in love with the Islamic faith during my college days. It surprises a lot of people, but I ignore the naysayers and just live my life.

I completed my studies in police foundations at Algonquin College right here in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. Oh, and like many young people across the expanse of this great nation, I am pondering my future. Part of me wants to return to the island of Haiti and see what's become of my homeland since the quake. Another part wants to stick around in Ottawa and continue building a life here. What's a brother to do?

You might see me walking around, a six-foot-one, burly and dark-skinned young black man with neat dreads and a slick, stylish goatee, and you'd make assumptions about me. I know what you people see when they look at me. The Bob Marley T-shirt, the faded jeans and the black Timberland boots might make you think you know all there needs to be known at me. From the type of food I like to the style of music I prefer. And you'd be one hundred percent incorrect in your assumptions...

People are always surprised when they find out that I like country music, especially the late, great Johnny Cash. I liked the old guy, and so does my father. His old hit "Hurt" is the soundtrack to my soul, I frigging swear. Black men who like country music exist, deal with. I think it's supremely arrogant to assume we don't. I know plenty of white guys who love Rap and Hip Hop. And that's just fine. Music is the sound that connects all humanity. Listen to what you love and let others do the same, I say...

"Sanjay, I'm done here, my friend, I'll holler at you later," I said, somewhat pensively, and Sanjay looked at me and smiled. We fist-bumped, and then I high-tailed it out of there, after putting my resumes in my backpack. Shoot, I've been looking forward to getting out of school for ages, and now that I'm basically done with it, I feel weird about the whole thing. I stepped out of the library, and walked around the block for a bit. I ended up walking towards Baseline Station, which is right next to campus, and guess who I ran into?

"Ishaq, is that you?" comes Jagdeep Kahlon's melodious voice, and I look at the tall, athletic yet curvy young Sikh woman, and smile. Clad in a long-sleeved blue shirt, tight black pants that show her curves, Jagdeep looks gorgeous. Today, she's wearing her signature black turban. Understandably, I'm a bit nervous. Jagdeep has that effect on me. I met her at the department store where I work as a loss prevention officer, and she took my breath away. When I later ran into her at Algonquin College, it seemed like Kismet to me. If only things had worked out the way I intended...

"Sat Sri Akaal," I reply, and nod my head gently. Jagdeep smiles and playfully slaps my shoulder. She always does that when I greet her in the traditional manner of the Sikh people of India. Thanks to her, I know a lot about Sikhism. I know about their prophet of a sort, Guru Nanak, and the founding principles and guidelines of Sikhism. If you ask me, it's more of a philosophy than a religion, but I like it. I am a proud Muslim, and I respect all other faiths, Sikhism among them.

"As Salaam Alaikum, Ishaq, what are you doing here, bro?" Jagdeep asks, and I smile and shrug, and then pull my resume out of my backpack, and show it to her. Jagdeep leans a bit too close as she looks at my resume. I try to act cool as I smell her slight perfume, mixed with her natural feminine odor. I hate it when women do that. Get too close and then act like they don't know their effect on a brother...

"I'm looking for work, I like working at the store, but I want to do more," I reply, and Jagdeep grins. I look at this brown-skinned beauty with the chocolate eyes, the beautiful face and the lively, enchanting smile. I hold my breath as her eyes flit over my resume and she nods, and then for some reason, feels compelled to grab my goatee, and pull on it. I hate it when Jagdeep does that shit. Just kidding, I love it. I manage to act all offended, though, and Jagdeep laughs, and snorts while doing so...

"Big man, that's a cool resume, I see a few mistakes on it, though, join me for lunch and I'll give you a few pointers," Jagdeep proposes, and I smile and nod. We cross the street and head toward Woodroffe Avenue, and head to Cathay restaurant, a Chinese spot that serves some pretty good grub. I am really fond of Chinese food and it definitely shows. I weigh two hundred and fifty pounds and I'm trying to cut down. Law enforcement jobs require fitness, you know?

"Damn, lady, you can eat," I say in an admiring tone as Jagdeep orders shrimp-fried rice, noodles, three egg rolls, and two Pepsis. I should mention that Jagdeep is a fitness fanatic who works out at the Algonquin College gym three times a week, and she's in the Practical Nursing Program. How does a gal who eats like that put away the calories? I ponder this as I sit with her, and watch her wolf down some shrimp-fried rice like it's nothing.

"I have a fast metabolism," Jagdeep pauses to say, and she swallows her second egg roll, and winks at me. It's a gesture that definitely registers with a certain part of my body, if you catch my drift. I sip on my Pepsi, and take a bit out of my shrimp-fried rice. As an observant Muslim, I tend to avoid certain restaurants since their pork products are haram or forbidden to me, but I make an exception because, well, I like Jagdeep. A whole lot.

"So, how's life and work at the store?" I ask, sipping what's left of my Pepsi, and Jagdeep smiles and shrugs. I watch, amazed, as the tall Sikh beauty burps a bit after downing her Pepsi, and shake my head. Women never cease to amaze me. I come from a Haitian household and where I come from, a lady doesn't do certain things. Jagdeep looks prim and proper, all serene and stuff, but she's a wild woman, you can see it in her eyes.

"I'm going to graduate and enjoy my summer, have some fun, and then figure out my next move," Jagdeep replies, and she slaps the table with her hand. I almost flinch, and smile at her boldness. We've known each other for a while. At the time we met, my favorite Punjabi beauty was seeing this young Sikh dude named Jaspal Kaur, and I was sort of involved with this big-booty Caribbean chick named Natalia whom I met one night at the O-Train Station at Carleton University. Fast forward a couple of years, neither of our relationships worked out, but Jagdeep and I are still friends...

"Yeah, I hear that," I reply, and I'm about to say something else to Jagdeep, when someone walks into Cathay restaurant. A tall brown-skinned young woman with long dark hair who looks South Asian, accompanied by a skinny, bald-headed white dude. They go to the counter and place their order, and the old Chinese lady who works there takes it. As they speak to her, the young woman drops her cell phone case and bends over to pick it up. As an ass man through and true, I'm unable to stop myself from gawking at that big ass...

"Dammit, Ishaq, that's your weakness, isn't it? You simply love a big ass," Jagdeep laughs, and she slaps my shoulder, hard enough for it to sting. I nod and I blush, thankful for once that, as a chocolate-hued brother, it doesn't show. White people and others are funny with their habit of turning red. We brothers have the ultimate poker face, come to think of it. Disagree? Get a frigging sense of humor, then. I smile at Jagdeep and shrug. The lady's statement is definitely true, on both accounts...

"Sorry about that," I say at last, and Jagdeep smiles mysteriously and gets up. I watch as she heads to the washroom at the back of the store, wondering if I've done something wrong. Yes, I'm attracted to Jagdeep and I think she knows but you never know with women. One minute they like your honesty, and the next it's a major turn-off for them. Go figure. I was still pondering these things while watching Jagdeep sashaying that big ass in those too-tight black jeans of hers when she suddenly bent as if to tie her shoelace...

"Oh my," I whisper, and my heart skips a beat as Jagdeep's big beautiful ass fills up my field of vision. Jagdeep turned her head, while tying her shoelace, and our eyes meet. Busted thy name is definitely Ishaq, I thought, and quickly looked away, knowing that the tall, curvaceous and big-bottomed Sikh Indian cutie definitely saw me. Jagdeep gets up, laughs a bit and enters the washroom. Things are going to be awkward when Jagdeep comes back, I thought glumly.

"Welcome back, Jagdeep, say, do you want another Pepsi? If so, it's on me," I say a bit too quickly when she finally returns, a few minutes later. I even stand up and pull her chair for her, and Jagdeep nods, then smiles slyly as she sits across from me. The look on that beautiful face tells me that she definitely saw me checking out her ass. And there's no way I can weasel out of fessing up...

"Oh, I'm cool, Ishaq, so, is my ass nicer than hers?" Jagdeep whispers, and she leans closer, and her lovely face is inches from mine. I forget all about the other brown gal at the counter with her white boyfriend as Jagdeep's eyes peer into mine. I freeze. I absolutely cannot move. I think I froze a lot less that time when the cops pulled me over on the 417 Highway for speeding, and gave me a mammoth ticket after dismissing my excuses. Shucks, man.

"Jagdeep, your booty is a work of art, it belongs in a museum," I heard myself reply, and I try to sound all smooth and confident, like my idol Will Smith in movies like Hitch or Focus. Jagdeep smiles at me the way a snake smiles at a bird right before pouncing on it, only she's beautiful and irresistible and nothing like a serpent. Sorry, I'm nervous and rambling, alright?

"Good answer, big man," Jagdeep replies, and she grabs me and kisses me. I am stunned and shocked and a lot of other things. Instinct takes over and nervousness takes a backseat. I kiss her back, loving the feel of her tongue in my mouth, and praying that I don't have bad breath. The kiss only lasts a few seconds, but feels a lot longer than that. Jagdeep and I stare at each other, and I smile. She smiles too, and then resumes eating, as if nothing happened.

"Your lips taste sweet," I say at last, and Jagdeep smiles, and nods, and keeps eating. I feel great, yet also feel like there's something I'm supposed to do, or say, that I'm not doing or saying. That kiss took me by surprise, the way first kisses always do. I look around the restaurant, and it suddenly dawns on me that everyone is staring at us, from the old Chinese lady behind the counter to that couple that just walked in, and the other patrons. Whatever...

"Thank you, Ishaq, now don't talk with your mouth full," Jagdeep says, her voice now bossy and edgy instead of flirtatious. See what I told you about women and their habit of switching on a man? Luckily I'm the kind of brother who likes edgy women, so that's totally up my alley. I nod in a conciliatory manner, and brush my hand against Jagdeep's hand. It just seemed like the thing to do. I'm about to say something when the other couple, the brown gal with the white dude, walk past us with their order. They give us a disapproving look. Jagdeep squeezes my hand and smiles defiantly at them, and my heart skips a beat.

"Jagdeep, dear lady, if you keep bossing me around, I'm going to end up dating you," I reply, leaning back in my chair and taking a good look at the beautiful, mysterious woman sitting opposite me. Jagdeep raises those super-thick eyebrows of hers, and appears to be pondering something, and then she winks at me, smiles and resumes eating. I love a good mystery, and now that I know how Jagdeep rolls, I'm not going to want to let her go. Stay tuned for more...