Anokhi combed her long, blond hair. In such an exotic country as India, blondes are a true rarity. When she walked down the street, she was overwhelmed by admirers drawn to her extraordinary beauty. When she was a little girl, she would respond to advances with a bright blush, but now she was grown and mature, and she would greet any lewd words or whistles with contemptuous silence.
No one would likely believe the eighteen-year-old's story was true. Anokhi came from Central Europe. Her mother, a very young girl, gave her up for adoption shortly after her daughter's birth.
From the very beginning, she stood out among her other children for her intellect. At the age of four, she learned to read and practiced writing. She was more mature than her peers, and everyone admired her—the youngest for her wisdom and brilliance, the older for her determination and tenacity in pursuing her goals. Anokhi was a warm-hearted girl who loved to cuddle with her caregivers.
One day, an important delegation from India arrived in the orphanage's town. A serious Indian investor wanted to invest heavily in a recreation center and thus establish closer ties with the country of her birth.
Destiny had it that he and his wife were strolling through the park near Anokhi's orphanage on a sunny day. Suddenly, they spotted a long-haired girl in pigtails and rosy cheeks. Her eyes reflected the light and vital energy.
She immediately captivated the couple. They approached the little girl, but naturally, they couldn't communicate. Despite this, the little girl clung to Nadiya and couldn't let go. She clung to her colorful dress and whispered,
"Is that you, Mom?"
The Indian woman, of course, didn't understand these words, but she felt a warm feeling flood her heart.
From then on, their meetings became increasingly frequent. Jednak niedługo egzotyczna para wyjechała, a mała została sama.
Po powrocie do swego kraju, niezmiernie dużo rozmawiali na temat urzekającej istotki. Pewnej nocy zdecydowali, że będą starać się o adopcję. Mimo, że widzieli Anokhi tylko trzy razy.
Proces niebywale szybko się zakończył i po roku Europejka postawiła swój pierwszy, niepewny krok w Indiach.
Od tamtych wydarzeń minęło czternaście lat. Anokhi nie pamiętała swojego ojczystego języka, ponieważ nikt nie starał się o jego kultywowanie. Czuła się hinduską, jednak kolor skóry, włosów oraz oczu, mówił co innego.
Anokhi loved India. She adored its traditions, food, and people who, though poor, were always strong with inner joy. She lived in prosperity. Her father, Sharkuh, was an oil tycoon and thus had a vast fortune. Her mother, Nadiya, was a housewife, and her daughter sincerely admired her. She was a wise, noble woman who retained her humility and modesty despite wealth and prosperity.
Anokhi returned from the land of memories. She put down her brush, touched up her makeup and sari, and ran to her mother to greet her and start a successful day with a tika.
The house smelled of incense. It was Nadiya who began her morning prayers. She strolled through the apartment, a mystical aroma wafting around her. She wore an unusually focused, serious expression. Seeing her daughter, she brightened and placed the incense in the sacred place of the house.
"Good morning, Anukhi."
"Hello, Mom," she ran up to the woman, kissed her cheek, and then bent down to bow. Nadiya stopped her. It was a family tradition.
"Did you sleep well?
" "Wonderful, thank you. Really, vacations are good for me.
" "It shows. You've grown so beautiful this summer, Anukhi." She carefully brushed her hair back.
"You're beautiful. I wish I looked like that. Jet-black hair, brown eyes.
" "Sometimes things aren't always what we want."
"I know. I'm going to say my prayers, I'll be right back."
The girl stood before the idol and bowed. Then she retreated into her own spiritual world.
"Breakfast!" Nadiya called.
"I'm coming, Mom!" she replied cheerfully.
"European..." She glanced at the table. There were cold cuts and peanut butter.
"Yes. Yesterday I was looking in my cookbooks for recipes for food from your home country. I found a few." It's truly astonishing that your countrymen eat such things...
" "They're not my countrymen," Anukhi responded quickly. "Where I come from and who gave birth to me are of no importance. What matters most is where I live and the parents who raised me and gave me love.
" "I know, please don't get upset," Nadiya whispered. "I'd like, I'd like, for you and your father to taste some of the European specialties and experience even the smallest part of the culture...
" "But I don't want to learn what's wrong. If there are people like my biological mother there, then it's not even worth wasting time delving into tradition!
" "Do as you see fit. I see your stance on this hasn't changed. Maybe someday you'll mature and want to face your past.
" "Possibly. But I'd love to try the food there."
A faint smile lit up Nadiya's face.
"I'll be delighted to cook you something special."
After talking to her mother, confusion arose in the girl's mind. She felt Indian, she belonged to India, but sometimes a desire to get to know the country she came from awoke. Paradoxically, her exchange with Nadiya had rekindled this desire. If she went there just once, she would surely disappear into the crowd of blondes and blondes, but if someone asked her the time, she wouldn't know what to answer.
"It's so unbelievable. I'm European, and I don't know my native language. It's amazing that people aren't born with a coded language spoken by other compatriots. Even a four-year-old can forget it if they travel and don't consolidate their knowledge. Getting to know Europe would be truly extraordinary."
"Anokhi, why aren't you eating? Your scrambled eggs will get cold.
" "Now, now. I've been lost in thought..."
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