Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: India (02/12/09)
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TITLE: Zia Raji: Rescuing Her Family: Heritage | Previous Challenge Entry
By Gilbert Backers
02/19/09 -
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A lightening storm started fires on Zia's family farm that killed her father and brother as they helped others take shelter from the storm. There was little rain at first, but excessive lightning and thunder. A large part of the farm burned, including parts of the two houses. It rained heavily soon afterwards increasing the damage.
Aadishree was 40 years old. She was full figured, with wide hips. She had long, black hair that cascaded down to her waist. She wore a modest but thin, short sleeved, green blouse with traditional Indian embroidering. The blouse started to cling to her in the heat.
Aadishree watched as Darian stood at the end of a long beam of wood. Darian counted to three then he lifted the beam of wood. Aadishree's two youngest daughters and her nephews from America then started moving the trunks and other belongings from beneath the beam to a pickup truck nearby. Some trunks were actually smashed leaving items on the floor of the house. Aadishree marveled at Darian's muscular build. She saw his V shaped torso through the white loose fitting shirt as he lifted the end of the beam over his head. Darian's brown skin often made Aadishree forget he was American.
Aadishree watched with tears in her eyes as her daughters retrieved precious family items from the wreckage of the house. Aadishree's mouth dropped when Darian told the teenagers to get out of the way as he tossed the end of the beam onto a pile of rocks.
Aadishree's daughters and nephews then drove the truck towards the main house. Darian walked over to where Aadishree was standing. He picked up a bottle of water and started drinking.
“We've cleared the largest room from the older house,” said Darian, breathing heavily. “We should have the rest done by tomorrow.”
“Why are you working so hard to save our belongings?” said Aadishree with a touch of sadness in her voice. “There are men who will come to help us.”
“Well, the entire area around Amritsar was pretty badly hit by the storm. I figure it'll be a couple more days before relief crews can get out here. Every day these precious family heirlooms spend in mud or exposed to the elements means more damage and more loss. I thought I'd help save as much as possible.”
“I thought all you Americans believe our culture is primitive, not worth saving because it is not computerized,” said Aadishree.
“Wow, I hope I didn't seem that bad the first time we met,” said Darian. He pointed to a corner of the collapsed house. “That inscription on the cornerstone is Hindi. I think it means foundation of love.”
“Yes it does,” said Aadishree, surprised. “You've learned more Hindi since your last time here?”
“Yea,” replied Darian, still breathing hard as he stood near Aadishree. “I became interested in Indian culture the first time I came here with Zia. So, when we got back to Cal Tech, I started doing some reading.”
Aadishree smiled. Then a look of sadness entered her eyes.
“The older house was in my husband's family for generations. It is where my husband first told me he loved me,” Aadishree's eyes started to well up with tears. “We stood right here, next to this engraving. He told me that even though we were betrothed since children, he truly fell in love with me. It was-it was twenty days before our wedding.”
Aadishree started to cry.
Aadishree suddenly had a feeling of being alone in the world. Darian gently put his arms around her. She then placed her head on his shoulder. No words were necessary as Darian simply held her. As her crying paused, she opened her eyes. A silver cross stood out prominently against Darian's brown chest.
“I loved him,” said Aadishree.
“Mother?” said Zia softly as she walked over. Zia's eyes began to water as well. She stood behind her mother, placing one hand on her back. Darian loosened his arms from around Aadishree and gently turned her towards Zia. Zia wrapped her arms around her mother.
Zia and Aadishree wept.
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Choosing Indian names for characters can be tricky. Zia is actually a Muslim male first name or last name so it does not fit your MC.
Also, traditionally in India, a man would not tell a woman he loved her until after marriage. (Although, things are changing in the 21st century.)
You wrote a touching story.
I thought a bit about this story, the characters, their lives, etc before writing and submitting this short for the weekly challenge. I feel there is something thing I’d like to explain that could not fit into 750 words or less.
Aadishree's late husband was supposed to be a very special person. Telling her that he loved her before the wedding was part of being special. It needed to be before the wedding in order for it to mean something. It could not be too far ahead of the wedding because of the traditional Indian families they belonged to. However, they had Western influences in their families. Instead of those Western influences of romantic love conflicting strongly with Indian culture, it was intertwined. Aadishree and her future husband sometimes met and talked when they were not supposed to according to the traditions of their families. It was a desire to get to know their future spouses and a growing and genuine affection that drove them. Since some people in their families had interactions with British officials and other westerners, they did have some who let them deviate slightly from the traditional norm as long as no harm was done.
Because of that Western influence. Aadishree's brother went to the US to finish his education and live. He and the family he started there came back to help Aadishree when tragedy struck. Zia's cousins were Aadishree's brother's children. Aadishree and the rest of her nuclear family felt comfortable with Zia's studying in the US because Aadishree's brother had a family there.