Post by Qiyara Singh on Oct 21, 2020 11:32:54 GMT -6
She’d been asked before . . .
”Where do you go when you’re gone for months at a time” . . .
That was a loaded question really. She and Rhett had several times where they canceled their bookings and just disappeared for a while. Thankfully, with only being contracted to Millennium now, there was an entire summer break that allotted for them to do what they needed to when it wasn’t time to work. It was strange to some that they preferred to simply drift from the limelight, but sometimes there were more important things to do, than simply work. The last time they’d been in Mumbai, Rhett had almost been shot and killed at least, that’s what it felt like at the time. She’d had nightmares reliving the moment, but Rhett assured her that someone had been looking out for them. There was hope in his eyes again, and a new found determination to find the very man they’d both been looking for since they’d met one another a few years ago. Rhys Adelson. Rhett had been trying to find his brother for years now and Qiyara had been linked to him in that he saved her life from a very bad criminal organization in India. Well perhaps that was too easily summarized. He was instrumental in preventing her from having to marry someone she didn’t love and from being brought into a criminal enterprise that she wanted no part of. While she may have had to live a little more cautiously to avoid ever having to run into those people again, Rhys had gone missing shortly after that and while Rhett had given up hope in some regard, when they met she’d instilled faith into finding him again. The supposed guardian angel was only further proof to Rhett that his brother was still alive, but if that were the case. . . why hadn’t he revealed himself. . . why had he not come to them by now?
Her only thought was that either he was incapable, or it was simply wishful thinking.
Yet seeing that light in Rhett’s eyes again, seeing that brief glimmer of hope helped to soothe her own heart. Rhett had so much disappointment in his life and it only made her want to hope for the same outcome as well. Yet, she also knew what false hope could do to you.
With MWE’s 3rd anniversary coming up, it reminded her of an Anniversary of her own.
- - - - - - - - -
Her bare feet touched the earth as she danced in the fresh dirt that had been sifted in the village square. She and her family had traveled for many miles and the minute she’d seen the area where the Pehlwan’s would soon make their battleground, she couldn’t help herself but to dip her feet into the freshly sifted dirt. This was the custom of course, to sift through to remove any pebbles, rocks, etc. Then add buttermilk, oil, and red ochre. It changed the color of the dirt and gave it a red hue versus the dingy brown that was usually displayed, but it also softened the landscape. She’d seen many times in her brothers various fights where water was added to the dirt consecutively prior to the actual battle taking place. It made the dirt soft without hindering their movements.
Her excitement was hard to contain, as a fifteen-year-old girl whose main focus in life had been to help her mother sell cloth, to cook, clean, and perform other duties so that one day she could be a wonderful wife to whomever her father chose. . . this event was something she actually looked forward too, something she’d basically had to beg for since it had cost her family virtually everything to be able to attend. To her though, It was worth it.
Wiggling her toes in that fresh dirt she was elated to see the appearance of her brother, dressed to compete in the traditional garment of kowpeenam, it left little to the imagination. He was thinner than when she’d last saw him, but their relationship was special to one another as she ran and threw her arms around his shoulders he lifted her with ease for the embrace, whether it was appropriate or not for him, he didn’t reject the signs of affection before placing her down softly.
Rayhan: “I was not sure you were going to be able to come. It is great to see you, Kehlani.”
He smiled, even though she could tell her was tired and worn, possibly from his training at the akhara (wrestling academy). The life of a Pehlwan was difficult to say the least, but it was most rewarding for those who loved the sport and she knew that he loved it greatly. They typically trained from sun up to sun down, had a strict diet to follow, and a numerous amount of exercise to delve into. This wasn’t a rich country after all at least not where they were from, and thus the training was usually from various forms of yoga or inexpensive work out tools such as Indian Clubs, Stones, or a mace. He’d shown her how to perform many of the workouts and even some of his moves despite it not being allowed for females to participate in the sport.
Kehlani (Qiyara): “Your tiredness has left you confused, brother.”
She gave him a soft smile in return to his own.
Kehlani (Qiyara): “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
She’d always envisioned him as strong, brave, heroic. It was odd that the term Pehlwan was synonymous with the word ‘hero’ after all. He didn’t treat her as if she were someone who had to conform to the rules of their society or only do what she was told were acceptable duties. She’d known so many who encouraged her to practice her poise and grace to enter into Beauty Pageants such as Miss India. These were common goals for young girls who sought to achieve a better life for their family and indeed it was something she’d thought about considering the opportunities for education and being able to help in the smallest way that she could. Nevertheless, her brother encouraged her to challenge herself even more and it was a strength and a courage that he prescribed that allowed her to be herself , even in those troubling times where a teen girl didn’t exactly know who she was.
She watched as her father hugged his neck and wished him luck, and her mother touched his cheek admirably before asking him how he was doing, if he was being well-fed. The typical motherly questions she assumed. She could tell in the way that he was moving that something wasn’t particularly right however.
Despite him smiling through, she thought perhaps that he was simply fighting through soreness as workouts tended to do and she left it at that.
The days festivities went on as the people of the village in Northern India came to support the event, it wasn’t like these people could afford television or even radio for that matter. When events like this were happening they were a huge draw to the patrons of that town or city. You didn’t really get a lot of excitement past going to temple or going about your daily lives doing the typical activities.
When it was time for Rayhan to fight, he was up against a man who was equal in his size, but he was quick on his feet. She watched in amazement as the two locked up and her brother tossed his opponent over rather easily with a takedown into the dirt. She didn’t understand the movements then as well as she did now. There were elements of Jujutsu and Judo that were thrown into the mix of Pehlwani, it wasn’t as glamorous as the wrestling you would see on television of course, there weren’t any ropes, no heights to jump from, no flips, tricks, or acrobatics. It was simply two fighters on a dirt floor, trying to take one another down, some would call it a traditional style of wrestling similar to that of the Olympics or collegiate level, but again no fancy uniforms and you had to pin the opponents shoulders and hips to the ground to win. There also of course could be a win by knockout, stoppage, or submission as well.
The length of the bought seemed longer than usual and Rayhan and his opponent were both quite aggressive, neither of them wanting to give up any leverage. They both seemed to be growing tired however, and there was a sudden snap.
There was a gasp from everyone in the audience and a stoppage of the bought was called. She burst to her feet, but was easily pushed aside by the crowd as her parents rushed forward. She could hear her mother’s screams almost instantly, and by the time she made it through, Rayhan was laying there in a bloody heap. Tears instantly began to blur her vision, but then a brief moment of hope came as she rushed to his side, he was moving despite the blood, his arm was torn and the scene was rather ghastly, but thankfully she could breathe easily, her brother still held his smile and touched the side of her cheek.
Rayhan: “Do not worry, I am fine”
He said to her and though she could tell he was not fine, the fact he was able to speak, capable of movement, and able to be tended to by his coach, left her feeling at ease slightly. He would heal, he would be fine.
Rayhan: “Aa bael mujhe mar” (To Invite the bull to hit you)
She could only laugh at this statement. While it might’ve seem confusing the phrase was used to describe an act of stupidity. Much like going for a move he shouldn’t have or taking on a fight he shouldn’t have. It was her brother’s typical humor and a reassuring thing for her as he was taken into more capable hands to have his injury assessed.
He would die a few weeks later from infection due to his injuries. It was the last time she saw him.
- - - - - - - - -
It was strange to feel the guilt that radiated through her each day with the anniversary of his death coming up. It was fifteen years ago which seemed like a lifetime, but it was always fresh on her mind especially with the hunt for Rhett’s sibling always there as well. It wasn’t something she ever tried to make a big deal over. He was six years older than her, but he’d been her world and without his guidance she never would’ve been able to have the courage to do what she’d done. His memory was something that always catapulted her forward and gave her the strength she needed to carry on.
And carry on, she most certainly would.