Young Writers Society

ashleylee wrote:Okay, this is a story I wanted to write because I have always been interested in Ancient India and their clothes and like everything. So I decided to do some research and start a story. Let me know what you think

Happy Reading!

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CHAPTER ONE

The sun was a canvass on the sky, all reds and oranges and yellows preparing for the artist’s hand. Yamini watched with fascination as the colors painted the earth, washing away the darkness of the night to make way for the day. She shivered when she thought of shadows and darkness, pulling her knees towards her chest.
The sun hit her bedroom window, illuminating the room with its buttery light. Behind her, she heard groans of protest as her fellow sisters awoke. Anusha woke first, standing up from her pallet on the ground and tucking her night sari back into place. Next, it was the twins, Hamsa and Hita, tumbling down the stairs to be the first to wake up their father. Last, Rajata stirred from her pile of blankets, poking out her head. Yamini laughed when she saw her, her black hair a nest of curls piled on her head. Anusha couldn’t help but smile too. “Come, Rajata. Time to wake,” she chided, and Rajata scowled, rolling from her pallet, [s]not caring that her night sari was off one shoulder[/s]. She [s]just[/s] stepped from the room, stomach growling as it demanded food.
Anusha turned to Yamini. “Come, sister. Breakfast time.” Yamini stood and gave the sky one last look before gliding down the stairs after her eldest sister.

After finishing her wheat chapatis and changing into her day sari—a vibrant green wrap that layered across her body like many different-sized shawls, Yamini [s]then[/s] darted from the house, taking the trail through the fields of rye. On the other side, her village left smoke trailing into that air from the various fires and a little ways further was the sea, a blue-green marker that guided her with a power all its own I had a bit of trouble with this sentence. I didn't understand how you have rye on one side, her village on another and then there's the sea. I would break up your sentences to make it flow a little better . She smiled, whistled for her dog, Chapal, and started off through the village. Chapal nipped at her heels, his puppy dog feet too big for his body. He yipped and barked at all the children as Yamini scurried towards the sea. I would like you to show us a bit more about how she walks, etc.
After rounding the last bend, the sea lay out before her, endless along the sparkling horizon. She saw the boats coming into port—from the small fishing canoes to the larger cargo ships with the English flag flying high on the mast. These were the ones that always caught her attention. The Aryans were so strange to her, with their pale skin and blue eyes. They shouted in foreign languages, their faces screwed up in concentration as they unloaded the giant crates holding their supplies.
She paused, sitting down on a discarded pail, [s]Chapal barking at random birds and people[/s]. Her eyes were riveted on the largest ship of all. Show us a litttle bit more of her thoughts here. Is she fascinated, in awe. I think this would also work better if instead of sitting down she just froze while she was walking and stared at it It pulled into the small port, his huge hull slicing through the water as the waves lapped at the wood planks. The man at the mast was a portly fellow with a face full of curly hairs and a head of long yellow hair [s]similar to the wheat that they transported from West Asia[/s]. A few Indian men hurried to help the ship port and then boarded to assist the Aryans in emptying the hull.
“Yamini!” a voice shouted to her from across the way, and she turned to see [s]face[/s] one of her friends, Amish. He sauntered over, his gangly legs swinging awkwardly from his dhoti—[s]similar to a sari but it only covered legs and waist[/s] Put your definitions at the end . Following close behind was Lokesh, [s]his taller and thinner friend[/s]. I don't think you nee to focus so much on what they're wearing [s]He wore a dhoti of silk[/s], His family was part of the Kshatriya Caste or warrior group. Lokesh was to be trained to become one of these warriors[s] who protect the village from enemies[/s] and would [s]who[/s] eventually enter the army. But for now, he was too young, only having seen twelve summers.
“Hello, Amish!” Yamini greeted, smiling [s]kindly[/s]. Her family and Amish’s were apart of the Vaishyas, or farmers. They were not as respected as the Kshartiyas were, and normally, the different castes didn’t mingle, but Lokesh was rebellious [s]and[/s] . He swaggered over, his head held high. “Hello, Lokesh,” Yamini mumbled, staying courteous even though she really wished that he would just disappear. But why doesn't she like him? It just seemed like a caste thing. I would be a bit more descriptive about it. Have Yamini grit her teeth and say to herself, why does he always have to tag along, or something like that
“Watching ships?” Amish asked, nodding at the hull about them. [s]sitting on an abandoned crate beside Yamini while[/s] . Lokesh leaned against the baked-brick wall of a local building Local building felt awkward here, it just didn't seem to fit. Try to reword it.
“Yes. Look at the one pulling into today.” Yamini admired the glistening vessel from where she stood [s]sat[/s], her caramel-colored eyes shinning.
“Big deal,” Lokesh grumbled, waving his hand at the British ship. “They come every week. Why do you watch them, Yamini?”
“Because I like to,” she retorted [s]with a grim face[/s]. “Why do you care?’
Lokesh shrugged. “I don’t.” Then, swinging his body away from the building, he flashed them each a wide smile. “I’m going to go have some fun. You guys can sit and watch ships if you want.”
Yamini frowned while Amish perked up, his dark chocolate eyes twinkling with delight. “What are you going to do, Lokesh?” he asked.
“You’ll see.” Lokesh winked and headed off down the road. Amish glanced over at Yamini, who shook her head in warning, before he leaped up to join Lokesh. Yamini sighed, gave the British vessel one last glance, before bounding after them, scolding them all the way down the street.
“Be quiet, Yamini! You shouldn’t be talking. You’re still only little,” Lokesh said, and Yamini recoiled. She wasn’t that little, only ten summers old.
“I’m not little!”
“I said be quiet!” Lokesh hissed, sneaking around the storage building in town: a large, dome-shaped structure. Amish pressed his fingers to his lips for extra emphasis before following Lokesh. Yamini obeyed, but held her ground and didn’t move from her post. She observed the two boys as they sneaked along until they came to one of the farmer’s fields, chickens pecking at the dry earth. She knew before they did it what they were going to do. “No!” she shouted, but it was too late. With on swipe. Lokesh stole a chicken. The rest of the flock squawked in alarm, running and flapping their wings uselessly. Amish covered his mouth to hide his amusement as they scurried back to Yamini. Seeing where they were headed, she shook her head as shouts were heard in the fields. Panicking, she shot off back towards the docks. She heard Lokesh’s labored breathing behind her while Amish lagged behind, his bare feet kicking up dust in his wake. This chase scene felt a bit forced. Show us a bit more of what happens. Dialogue, etc.
When they reached the docks, Lokesh yanked her and Amish into a pile of nets, hiding them from view. Soon after, the farmer, Chirag, and his shudras’ or slaves followed after, his face pinched in rage. His sharp eyes scanned the area and when he deemed them unfound, he retreated back to his farm, fuming [s]and yelling at his slaves[/s]. here I think you should show us a bit of Yamini's panic
Amish and Lokesh dissolved into giggles once they left. Yamini tumbled from their hiding place, her heart still pounding wildly in her chest. Amish emerged next, then Lokesh, chicken tucked under his arm, [s]content for the moment as it ate out of Lokesh’s hand filled with grain[/s]. “Where did you—“ Yamini started but then stopped. “Forget it. Next time you guys want to steal, count me out.”
“Ah, come on, Yamini. That was more fun than watching boats all day,” Lokesh reasoned, heading off along the outskirts of the village towards his parents’ home.
“Yeah, Yamini,” Amish agreed, still grinning as he ran to catch up with Lokesh.
Yamini rolled her eyes. “Oh yes, tons of fun running from Farmer Chirag and almost being getting caught.” At this, the boys erupted into more laughter. Yamini just shook her head. “I’m going back to the port,” she called after them, but they were too absorbed in their own thoughts to care.
[s]So[/s] Yamini trudged back to the docks [s]port[/s] by herself, stomping into the dirt Insert comma forcing little puffs of dust to escape into the surrounding air. “Yamini, there you are,” a familiar voice exclaimed, and Yamini turned to face her eldest sister, Anusha, holding a basket of goods hooked on her elbow. “Pitaa was worried when you didn’t come back to help with the rice.”
“Sorry, Anusha. I was watching the boats and—“
“Never mind, Yamini. Just come home now.”
Yamini nodded, and followed [s]ensued[/s] after her sister as she wove through the marketplace. Have her throw a backward glance at the boats, sad or something. “Where’s Hamsa and Hita? I thought they were going to help you shop this morning.”
“They're around here somewhere,” Anusha said [s]informed her[/s] , stopping to admire some exotic fruit. Yamini scanned the market until she spotted two girls with identical braids over by the jewelry booth. Smiling knowingly, she walked [s]traversed[/s] over. “What are you two doing?” she asked.
Hamsa answered first. “Shopping.”
“For maataa,” Hita finished, touching her little five-year-old finger to a jade-colored amulet from Egypt.
“I bet maataa would love that, but do you have any money?”
“No,” the twins replied together, [s]suddenly[/s] gloomy.
“It’s okay. You can save up for next week.” They nodded, still sorrowful until they spotted Chapal, [s]skipping after him singing his name[/s]. Yamini [s]then[/s] went to find Anusha. She was just finishing with the fruit booth. “I sent Hamsa and Hita back home. They were buying jewelry for maataa.”
A spasm of pain crossed Anusha’s face, before it vanished. “Well, they will understand soon enough.”
“Don’t be hard on them, Anusha. They’re too young to understand that maataa isn’t here anymore.”
“They aren’t young anymore, Yamini. And neither are you. Now head home to help pitaa.” Her voice was harsh, and Yamini cringed, but obeyed, trudging along the trail back to the farm.

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Later that night, after a meal of chickpea flatbread, spicy vegetarian sauce, and yogurt, Yamini escaped out into the courtyard, Chapal panting at her side. The stars were especially bright that night, but instead of being afraid as she normally was, she embraced the [s]night and [/s]moon and stars. Besides, her name meant “night”, and it was time to grow out of that fear.
Her father, Bhanu, entered then, his yellow dhoti wrapped around his legs like pants and a white turban wrapped around his bald head. He was fit for a father, but aging before her very eyes, purple half-moons bruising his under lids and creases around his mouth. “Pitaa,” she greeted, moving over on the bench to leave room for him.
“Yamini.” He nodded to her and took the empty spot. They both just looked up into the stars for awhile until he spoke again. “Anusha told me about what Hamsa and Hita said in the village.” She didn’t answer, remaining mute as he continued. “She also told me when you said.”
“Pitaa, I understand that Hamsa and Hita are now old enough to work on the farm, but they still don’t understand that maataa is gone.”
“She was a great woman,” Bhanu stated abruptly. This does feel a bit out of place. Have a bit more of a pause before he goes into this.
“I know. I miss her.”
“Don’t. She has been reincarnated hopefully into a greater and wiser being than she was with us. That’s why Hamsa and Hita want to buy her jewelry. They want to give it to her reincarnated person.”
Yamini’s eyes widened. “Is that possible?”
“It supposedly can be done, but I have never seen it.”
“Oh,” she said, feeling dejected.
“Yamini, remember though, that just because you haven’t seen it—“
“Doesn’t mean it isn’t real,” she finished for him, smiling. Her father’s famous saying was that line and he lived by it every day, not rejecting anything until he was given proof that it was false.
“Live by that, Yamini, and you will never loose faith.” With that, he stood, stretching his tired muscles. “Tomorrow, could you help me again with the rice?”
“Of course, pitaa,” she answered loyally, unable to refuse him.
“Good.” He smiled, kissed her forehead and sent a prayer up to the Hindu gods to watch over her before leaving, calling Chapal to bed as well. Yamini stayed out there long after her family had gone to sleep, gazing up at the stars, and thinking maybe her mother was reincarnated into a star to forever watch over them.
“I wish you were still here, maataa,” Yamini whispered into the night before retreating back inside to sleep and to gather up enough strength to work another day.