Some background... Based on the short story of "Good Advice is Rarer than Rubies" in Salman Rushdie's collection East, West. Basically, Miss Rehana purposefully ruins her chances of moving to England where her husband is, by failing the interview at the Britsh Consulate in India. More info at: https://owlcation.com/humanities/Plot-Summary-and-Analysis-of-Good-Advice-Is-Rarer-Than-Rubies-by-Salman-Rushdie
In the short story, there is only a reference to the meeting between Miss Rehana and the interviewers. No actual situation. My task was to write that part of the story.
Please critique it. Explanation of some things are put in curly brackets. Indian words have been used as they were used in the original short story. Do not count the words in the curly brackets as part of the story.
Entering the marbled interior of the Consulate building, Miss Rehana met beauty rivaling her own. The glassy pearl-like sheen imprinted her immaculate features on the Consulate walls in harmonious fashion.
{The consulate building represents her perceived life in England} {The building’s glamour connects with the beauty of Miss Rehana, showing the audience that her entering a life in England will improve her living conditions and afford her more luxury} {The text also states that the luxury suits her, “the young lady’s persona fused into her latest backdrop (of the marble Consulate building)”}
Two bureau guards stood motionless as the young lady’s persona fused into her latest backdrop. Inching to a wood-furnished bench placed on the far side of the room, Miss Rehana heard an ominous crackle, “Ayther aoo bati, haum bathata hea tona ka jana hea” (meaning “come here young girl we will tell you where you should go”). The older of the two guards had spoken, covering quick ground to Miss Rehana’s side, clutching viciously at her bare arms. {This shows that although Miss Rehana may receive financial freedom when entering a life in England, she is likely to lose her freedom of expression, and free will} {the Consulate building is symbolized as Miss Rehana’s potential life in England}
{Lack of respect for Miss Rehana is also shown}
{The guards also believe that anyone coming in to receive approval is at the mercy of them until they are called up.}
Moments later, a booming voice echoed around the reception hall.
“Next!”
The clammy unwelcome hands of the guard ripped off the young lady’s arm, mounting themselves instinctually to the side of his body. His grotesque grin transformed into a disappointed dismal. He operationally directed Miss Rehana into the oval-shaped office of the head bureaucrat. Miss Rehana faced a similar change in backdrop as her first. This time, she was greeted by gold plated ornaments, intricately carved marble sculptures and a wall-long tapestry embroidered with the most enchanting visual appeal.
A large framed man stood at the foot of a polished wooden desk unacknowledging his newest apparition for torment. He pointed rigidly at a crooked wooden stool at the far side of the room, motioning Miss Rehana to sit. She stared confused at the chair opposite of the bureaucrat’s table but decided not to question his lack of hospitability. She sat silently, waiting patiently for the towering figure to begin her interview.
{The bureaucrat makes Miss Rehana feel out of place in the room’s dynamic and also assures his height, and therefore dominance over the situation}
{the people working here believe that only they can provide happiness to the people who come to the Consulate and therefore expect Miss Rehana to almost treat them like royalty and beg to be approved}
“Do you agree to tell the truth and only the complete truth?” questioned the bureaucrat.
“Yes”, Miss Rehana responded.
“What is your husband’s middle name?” the bureaucrat fired.
Her eyes sparkled of knowing, but did she want to? She felt drifted, unable to choose a path of answering. Her breath caught roughly in her throat. After a long dense pause, she replied, “My memory fades me sahib, please do not miss-take me, question me again…”
Miss Rehana’s questioning continued, each time she deflected the question or misused Mr Ali’s advice. Her breath slowly calmed after each question was fired.
The bureaucrat felt played, how could she be so calm after mis-answering so many questions. He had expected her to use her waning position to beg, to cry, but she sat straight, more poised than how she had entered.
The bureaucrat finally burst, “You are wasting my time, it is clear you know nothing of the sort.”
“Indeed” she replied calmly, raised herself off the wooden stool and exited the room, leaving the fool in his air of luxury.