A Bride's Story

Chapter 31: Baking day

Under the vibrant sunlit sky, Amira clutched her basket tightly, bidding her farewells to Sanira and Seleke. "I'm leaving now!" she said in a sing-song voice.

Sanira, grateful for Amira's assistance, acknowledged her departure. "Okay, thanks for your help."

Curiosity ignited within Seleke as Amira disappeared from sight. "Where could Amira be going?" she pondered aloud.

Her mother, with a knowing smile, gently reminded her daughter of the forgotten chore. "Oh, you," she chided playfully. "Now that it's not your responsibility anymore, you've forgotten all about it?"

Realization dawned upon Seleke as she recalled that today was the monthly baking day in their bustling village. "Oh! Right!"

In the heart of the town center, the grand bread market sprawled with a mosaic of furnaces and ovens, encircled by the industrious women of Khiva. Their hands deftly rolled dough, adorning bread with intricate patterns, while the inviting aroma of freshly baked loaves filled the air.

Amira, venturing into this captivating spectacle for the first time, stood in awe of the bustling marketplace. Women gathered together, their voices intertwining in lively conversations, sharing gossip and laughter that echoed through the air. There was an undeniable sense of camaraderie and joy that pervaded the atmosphere.

However, as Amira sought her place among the bustling crowd, she encountered the challenge of finding an available spot. Time and again, the opportunity slipped through her fingers as others swiftly occupied the vacant spaces. Frustration teased at the edges of her determination.

Just as hope threatened to wane, a woman who had completed her baking rose from her seat, bidding her friends farewell. "Well, I'm done!" she declared.

Amira saw her chance, but before she could seize it, another swiftly claimed the vacant spot. Disheartened, she persisted, refusing to surrender to discouragement. Her unwavering spirit caught the attention of a young girl who saw her plight and called out, beckoning her over.

"Hey! You! Over here!" the girl's voice rang out. "Sit down over here!"

Amira's face brightened with gratitude as she made her way towards the girl. She was a young woman, a touch older than Karluk, with a compact and sturdy frame. Dressed in a green sleeveless kafkan and a red shirt beneath, her outfit exuded a vibrant energy. From beneath her headdress, several thin and long braids spilled forth, adding a touch of grace to her appearance. Thick eyebrows and a square jaw gave her a determined and confident expression.

"Excuse us!" the girl's voice cut through the lively chatter of the bread market. Her commanding tone demanded attention. "Slide over and make some room, please!"

The crowd parted reluctantly, begrudgingly creating a small space for Amira to squeeze in. She gratefully settled down, feeling a sense of relief wash over her.

"Thank you!" Amira's voice carried her appreciation, tinged with a hint of exhaustion from her earlier struggle.

The girl's gaze remained fixed on her task, her hands deftly shaping the dough with practiced precision. Without skipping a beat, she replied, "No problem. When it's crowded, you got to do or they won't let you in. Gotta fight for your spot."

Amira's eyes widened in awe as they landed on the young girl's creation. It was a masterpiece, a large, flatbread adorned with an intricate and meticulously detailed flower pattern. Each petal seemed to come alive, telling its own story. It was a sight that left Amira breathless. "Wow!" she exclaimed, unable to contain her admiration. The bread was not just sustenance; it was a work of art.

"That's pretty!" Amira exclaimed, her eyes shining with fascination. "How do you do that?"

The girl glanced at Amira. "Eh? 'How', you say?"She revealed a small wooden block shaped like a delicate flower, the secret behind the intricate patterns. "You use this sort of thing to do it."

Amira leaned in closer, captivated by the simplicity and ingenuity of the tool. She watched intently as the girl demonstrated the technique, gracefully imprinting the flower pattern onto the dough.

"Here, give it a try."

Amira's fingers delicately wrapped around the tool, feeling its smooth texture. With a mix of excitement and determination, she gently pressed the flower-shaped block onto her flatbread, carefully etching the intricate design. The dough yielded to her touch, taking shape with each graceful movement.

As Amira immersed herself in the artistry, a sense of wonder filled the air. The vibrant market noise faded into the background as her focus intensified. Her fingers danced across the dough, creating mesmerizing patterns and transforming the simple bread into a work of edible art.

And as Amira continued to imprint her own creative spirit onto the bread, a tune escaped her lips, a soft hum that resonated with the rhythm of her movements.

"Baking up a tasty treat,
Pretty dough, a shame to eat
With wooden block, a flower in hand,
Etching patterns, a creation so grand."

As Amira sang, her voice filling the air, a hush fell over the other women. They exchanged glances and began whispering among themselves, their giggles resonating through the bakery. Unbeknownst to Amira, she had become the unwitting subject of their ridicule.

Observing the situation, the young girl who had lent Amira the shape-maker felt a surge of empathy. With a determined voice, she called out to the mocking women, "What's so funny about singing? Show some respect!"

The rebuke silenced the laughter, and the women sheepishly returned to their tasks, their guilt lingering in the air. Confused, Amira looked up, searching for an explanation.

Sensing her confusion, the baker girl approached Amira, her voice filled with sincerity. "Don't mind them. They are the rude ones for laughing at you."

Amira's confusion deepened, her brows furrowing in disbelief. "Laughing? Who was laughing? About what?"

The girl hesitated, momentarily taken aback by Amira's obliviousness. She stammered, "W-well, when you were singing... the other women, they... they were laughing at you. Didn't you notice?"

Amira's eyes widened in surprise, realization dawning upon her. She had been blissfully unaware of the mockery directed her way but she was not one to dwell on negativity.

"I'm Amira," she introduced herself, her voice filled with sincerity. "It's nice to meet you."

The girl's eyes widened in surprise, as if she hadn't expected such a friendly response. She hesitated for a moment before offering a shy smile.

"P-Pariya," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "That's my name."