From realms unknown, a maiden true,
In shadows cast, her path to strew.
Durin's folk in peril dire,
Her light, a celestial fire.
With courage bold, a spirit old,
In tales untold, her saga told.
A guardian born 'neath starry night,
To guide and guard...
Far away from Middle Earth, in a land that stretched beyond the reaches of imagination, there resided a girl named Razia Kaur in the unassuming town of Lodi, CA. Her life was an embodiment of utter monotony, a symphony of boredom that played on a loop. Grateful for the predictability that surrounded her, Razia was the epitome of average. Neither strikingly beautiful nor unattractive, and her intelligence rested comfortably in the realm of adequacy. Even her achievements were unremarkably remarkable, showcasing a mastery in the art of being wholly ordinary.
Yet, Razia found solace in her daydreams, weaving tales of faraway lands and magical realms in the corridors of her imagination. Her nose buried in books and her eyes glued to films brimming with adventures, she sought an escape from the mundane. In the midst of her longing for the extraordinary, a dream unfurled before her closed eyes, altering the course of her life forever.
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Razia startled herself awake with a snore so loud that, had her Appa been nearby, he would have undoubtedly been stirred from his own slumber. As she blinked into consciousness, the warm glow of the morning sun streamed through her window, and at the foot of her bed she saw Khushi, her orange tabby cat, had stirred from his slumber.
With a soft sigh, Razia settled back into her sheets, the remnants of a disrupted dream clinging to the edges of her mind. She twisted and turned, hoping to will herself back to sleep without success. She sighed again, feeling a familiar yet unwelcome profound sense of boredom. Life, once filled with the challenges of college, had come to a stagnant pause since her graduation.
Razia, a product of an average school—neither a community college nor an Ivy League institution, found herself in the shadow of her high-achieving parents. Both held PhDs from Stanford, one in Physics and the other in Chemistry. Resolute in her refusal to tread the academic path of her parents, she had chosen a different route—one where their guidance held no sway -- medicine.
It was now winter, or at least, what you call December in California, and Razia felt the weight of anticipation settling upon her shoulders. Her success in getting into medical school was measured in the form of interview notifications. One had rolled her way—a DO school in Pomona, an institution that perfectly mirrored her penchant for the ordinary. Yet, as the days passed, no other invitations had graced her inbox, leaving her in a state of restless waiting.
The morning unfolded with the familiar routine of daily life. Razia, now fully awake, shuffled to the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee. The rich aroma of the brewing coffee filled the air as she prepared a simple breakfast. Toast and eggs graced her plate, a routine staple in her mornings. The sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow on the kitchen table where she sat to enjoy her meal.
Soon after, her mother suggested running errands together. They ventured to Patel Groceries, a bustling store where the shelves brimmed with spices, colorful fabrics, and the familiar scent of Indian cuisine. As they navigated the aisles, Razia's mother engaged in cheerful conversation with Ruhi Aunty, the cashier. The usual questions followed, and Razia winced inwardly, anticipating the moment her mother would proudly declare, "Razia's applying to medical school right now." A stream of inquiries about her future plans loomed, causing Razia to discreetly retreat to the snack aisle.
There, surrounded by familiar treats like Parle-G and Kurkure, she sought refuge from the prying questions. As she selected her snacks, she couldn't help but feel a sense of escapism.
Back in her room, Razia settled in, surrounded by the comfort of familiar lore. Christmas traditions in her family meant watching the Lord of the Rings and reading the Hobbit. She turned the pages with practiced ease, reaching the meeting of Thorin and Bilbo. Bilbo, a character she had always admired, embodied a journey of stepping out of one's comfort zone and embarking on adventures.
Yet, as she immersed herself in Middle Earth, Razia couldn't shake the awareness that she, too, had become too complacent in the simplicity and monotony of her life. The desire for adventure lingered, but the allure of comfort held her back. Thinking about how she probably knew more about The Hobbit that her college degree in Human Biology, she contemplated briefly about revisiting her old Anatomy textbook. The idea flitted through her mind but was soon replaced by the irresistible pull of Bilbo's journey and the rich tapestry of Middle Earth lore that she had come to know so well.
Lost in the enchanting tales of Middle Earth, Razia felt a sudden pull, as if a voice from a distant realm was calling out to her. "Razia, Kidhuzurâl. Nathith. Muhudel...WAKE." The words echoed through her daydream, and in an instant, she shot up, her book tumbling onto the floor. Khushi, ever alert, leapt off the window sill and onto her bed, rubbing his head against her side. Sweat dotted her brow, and she instinctively placed her palm on her chest, trying to calm her racing heart. She looked out the door to see the setting sun, a blend of blue, pink and gold blooming across the sky. Surely, she hadn't been reading for that long?
"Beta!" her mother's voice rang out from downstairs. "Khaana taiyaar hai! [Food is ready!]" "Ji Mummy! [Yes, Mummy!]" Razia called back, still shaken from the unexpected interruption. As she swiped the sweat from her brow, the dream's residue lingered in her mind. Kidhuzurâl, Nathith, Muhudel—words that seemed foreign yet strangely familiar. Did they hold meaning beyond her comprehension? Kidhuzurâl, golden one? Nathith, daughter. Muhudel...a blessing? She shook her head, bewildered by the inexplicable connection to these words. Distracted she almost missed her mother calling her name.
"Razia!" She looked up wide eyed. Her mother rushed to her and felt her forhead? "Aya! Why are you covered in sweat? So hot? Beta, tum teek ho? [Child, are you okay?]" She shrugged off her mother's concern, "Ha mummy. It's just hot in my room." She pushed past her, ignoring her mother's skeptical look. Finishing off her mom's daal, she washed her plate and sat next to her father, who was watching her news. Stealing a few grapes from his plate, she asked "A lightning storm, we never have lightning?" "Ha, bahut ajeeb hai. [Yes, it is very strange.]" Her dad commented. Indeed, it was weird.
Later, as the clock approached 11 pm, the family gathered for their nightly routine. Razia showered and said her goodbyes before trodding up to her room. Picking up the fallen book, she dusted it off and touched it to her eyes, whispering a silent prayer, a ritual passed down by her mother. Climbing into bed, she let the familiar weight of slumber envelop her, embracing the mysteries of dreams and the echoes of an otherworldly voice that lingered in her thoughts.
As Razia drifted into the realm of dreams, a deep rumbling voice seemed to pierce through the veil, calling out, "Razia, Nathith, Dolzekh menu." Confusion lingered. Thank you? What for? The words echoed in her mind, leaving her with a sense of enigmatic gratitude.
Before long, the dream transitioned into a chilling awakening. She groaned, feeling a cold wind nipping at her legs. Was it Khushi opening the window again, that pesky cat! She fumbled for her blanket, only to realize it was nowhere to be found. Sitting up, she opened her eyes, ready to scold the mischievous culprit. However, the reality that unfolded before her eyes left her gasping.
No longer in the familiar confines of her room, Razia found herself surrounded by grass and mud. A quick pinch to her cheeks confirmed the stark reality, and she yelped in pain. Panic set in as she frantically surveyed her surroundings—a landscape of rolling hills with small round doors, and towering trees. A forest loomed behind her, and as she exhaled, her breath formed mist in the cold air.
In a moment of surreal clarity, she knew where she was. "The Shire," she breathed, the realization hanging heavy in the frosty air. Her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed to the ground, the unknown world of Middle Earth now her reality, and the mysteries of her dreams unfolding in ways she never could have anticipated.
