Saturday, March 04, 2006
Weekend's Bring Memory Home
On friday, before the ceremonies began, we were all sitting around the table. Two of us furiously working at the saffron, crushing the red herbs against a marble grade. It was the custom, for the daughters of the family, with sleeves rolled up and a canvas of golden skin showing, to bend over the saffron and crush it to perfection.
Each daughter was given a mortar and a small sack of saffron, which was delivered by the neighbor who was also helping in the ceremonies. At the dark, wooden table both girls moved in a rhythmic motion, crushing the saffron into a fine powder. The red of the saffron reminded them both of sensual and soft thoughts, bared to their self-conscience by a reminder that red was also the color of the devil they feared those thoughts and put them away working at their saffron, again.
Of course, no one had ever actually told us that we had grown up to be two beautiful girls, but it was made apparent by the new light in the neighbor's eyes as he approached the room. His feet stopped at the entrance of the room, the smell of the stew cooking in the giant pots making his nostrils twitch with anticipation. But, what had amazed him most was how the two little girls, shrieking and yanking at his coattails with goofy grins and innocent, wide eyes had suddenly turned into two women. The first, his eyes told him, was Soheila, the littlest one, and the prettiest of the two. Her golden hair, almost a honey color wrapped about her soft waist. When she looked up to the neighbor, smiling, her wide eyes sparkled a deep blue, aknowledging the old patron as she would her father. Of course, her sister was much darker. A par of braids extended down to her shoulder blades, as dark as the brown mud that surrounded their backyard, and eyes that were black in the light, but moody and tense as she spotted him. The neighbor extended the sacks and left them on the ground.
Both girls turned back to their work, this time, the dark-haired one, Ronak, felt trapped by his body standing near the doorway. For some unexplainable image began to show itself to her. As her hands continued its rhythmic push and pull over the saffron, his body seemed to eclipse the sunlight, a silhouette of resilience where the sunlight wavered. The shadow that he cast against her face was cold, indifferent to her but the sunlight's failed attempt to peek through from behind his larger frame scared her. Eyes closing, she turned her head to the mortar, a drop of sweat forming behind her ear and sliding down her neck caused her to frown. The crease of her forehead an unknown feeling to her smooth skin.
The neighbor, having stared at their supple movements, caught his breath short. The sound of feet approaching, the girls' mother, stopping his already outstretching hand. The fingers of his right hand shook, shivering with a vacanct expression that was not there, but gone, touching the skin of their arms and stroking the hair from the nape of the golden one.
He left soon, after greeting the mother and commenting on the rich smells from the kitchen.
"You have such fine skills, such good smells come from this kitchen when you cook, Aziz. And such pretty children to help with it. They've grown so."
The mother, grinning from ear to ear, fanned herself with her hand laughing at his comment on her cooking skills. What struck Ronak, was the absence of her mother's tight lip at the mention of their names. It should have been a small smile, and a overly lascivious thank you to signal his leave; that would mean he had been inappropriate with her daughters' presence, but today was not the case.
Today was the ceremony, the day in which Ronak and Soheila's older brother was engaged to the daughter of a doctor, a friend of the family's.
Insides the house, there had been a commotion all day long. The rooms had been swept clean with the servant's help. Each room was placed with lush carpets, designed to portray the flourishing fruits of the spring. Each carpet had a theme, one of tiny swallows and blossoms, others of more flowers and symbols of luck. The carpets were lined with pillows, that the guests would sit on, cross-legged, and enjoy the festivities on.
---
Note to self; characters, carpets, dress, birds
Each daughter was given a mortar and a small sack of saffron, which was delivered by the neighbor who was also helping in the ceremonies. At the dark, wooden table both girls moved in a rhythmic motion, crushing the saffron into a fine powder. The red of the saffron reminded them both of sensual and soft thoughts, bared to their self-conscience by a reminder that red was also the color of the devil they feared those thoughts and put them away working at their saffron, again.
Of course, no one had ever actually told us that we had grown up to be two beautiful girls, but it was made apparent by the new light in the neighbor's eyes as he approached the room. His feet stopped at the entrance of the room, the smell of the stew cooking in the giant pots making his nostrils twitch with anticipation. But, what had amazed him most was how the two little girls, shrieking and yanking at his coattails with goofy grins and innocent, wide eyes had suddenly turned into two women. The first, his eyes told him, was Soheila, the littlest one, and the prettiest of the two. Her golden hair, almost a honey color wrapped about her soft waist. When she looked up to the neighbor, smiling, her wide eyes sparkled a deep blue, aknowledging the old patron as she would her father. Of course, her sister was much darker. A par of braids extended down to her shoulder blades, as dark as the brown mud that surrounded their backyard, and eyes that were black in the light, but moody and tense as she spotted him. The neighbor extended the sacks and left them on the ground.
Both girls turned back to their work, this time, the dark-haired one, Ronak, felt trapped by his body standing near the doorway. For some unexplainable image began to show itself to her. As her hands continued its rhythmic push and pull over the saffron, his body seemed to eclipse the sunlight, a silhouette of resilience where the sunlight wavered. The shadow that he cast against her face was cold, indifferent to her but the sunlight's failed attempt to peek through from behind his larger frame scared her. Eyes closing, she turned her head to the mortar, a drop of sweat forming behind her ear and sliding down her neck caused her to frown. The crease of her forehead an unknown feeling to her smooth skin.
The neighbor, having stared at their supple movements, caught his breath short. The sound of feet approaching, the girls' mother, stopping his already outstretching hand. The fingers of his right hand shook, shivering with a vacanct expression that was not there, but gone, touching the skin of their arms and stroking the hair from the nape of the golden one.
He left soon, after greeting the mother and commenting on the rich smells from the kitchen.
"You have such fine skills, such good smells come from this kitchen when you cook, Aziz. And such pretty children to help with it. They've grown so."
The mother, grinning from ear to ear, fanned herself with her hand laughing at his comment on her cooking skills. What struck Ronak, was the absence of her mother's tight lip at the mention of their names. It should have been a small smile, and a overly lascivious thank you to signal his leave; that would mean he had been inappropriate with her daughters' presence, but today was not the case.
Today was the ceremony, the day in which Ronak and Soheila's older brother was engaged to the daughter of a doctor, a friend of the family's.
Insides the house, there had been a commotion all day long. The rooms had been swept clean with the servant's help. Each room was placed with lush carpets, designed to portray the flourishing fruits of the spring. Each carpet had a theme, one of tiny swallows and blossoms, others of more flowers and symbols of luck. The carpets were lined with pillows, that the guests would sit on, cross-legged, and enjoy the festivities on.
---
Note to self; characters, carpets, dress, birds
