My first Portfolio Story, Bhagiratha's Resolve: The story of a man with impeccable willpower and earth-moving patience, and his journey to find peace for his ancestors.
The second story in my Portfolio is entitled Battle of Wills. In it, we delve deeper into the past of Viswamithra, the sage who taught Rama at the beginning of the Ramayana, as he attempts to send a selfish king to heaven before his time and prove once and for all he is a superior sage.
The third story has two parts. First is Arjuna's Gifts Part 1, where Arjuna receives a powerful gift from each of the Gods to use in his upcoming battle with Karna.
Next, a tale of three princely brothers who stumble upon a mischievous water sprite who asks each the same puzzling question: "What are Good Fairies Like?"
A wise king embarks upon a quest to carry a goblin across a graveyard for a mysterious monk. Along the way he is forced to answer the goblin's riddles. Will the king come up with all the right answers and keep his head? Or will the goblin manage to trick him? Is there some nefarious plot behind the king's quest? Find out all that and more in the two-part Riddles of the Goblin King!
Finally, the capping stone to my portfolio, The Gods of India and the World Today, where all the gods we've learned about this semester meet across a round table to discuss what should be done about the current state of the world.
Friday, April 29, 2016
Thursday, April 28, 2016
Week 14 Storytelling: Reincarnation
Author's Note:
First of all, thank you to everyone who voted for my portfolio in the top 5! It means a lot.
Anyway, I decided to get a little experimental with this one, try my hand at something new. I've never written a first-person story before, so I thought I'd give it a shot. I also used a journal entry format, which I have not used before. Like I said, I got experimental.
I was inspired by Kapur's Ganesha Goes to Lunch, and more specifically the seen where Guha is brought back to life by Shiva. He is transported from the Land of the Dead to the World Tree, which reincarnates him back into his body. I changed a few details here and there, but that's the basic arc. Without further ado,
Reincarnation:
. . .
I'm in a place, I've decided. It's not just nowhere. Well, I mean it is nowhere--total darkness, the great all-black, the void. But it's not Nowhere with a capital 'N.' I'm definitely someplace. A place of total and utter nothingness, but a place nonetheless.
. . .
Today I found a crack. The narrowest, most imperceptible ripple in the fabric of this place. It is the first 'something' I've seen since the lights went out. Ha. Never thought I'd be so excited over 'something in someplace' but here we are.
. . .
The more I nudge it, the more I think I can open it up. I don't even know if that thought makes any sense, or what I'd be opening. Or what's on the other side. But I think I can do it.
. . .
I was twirling the rift, as I've come to call it, idly tody, as I've been ever since I found it. It soothes me, the hint that I may not be completely alone in the place. Anyway, I was twirling my finger in it, when my finger passed plain through to the other side! And I felt it. I mean, really felt it. The first thing I've actually touched since I been died. The rift doesn't feel like anything. But this? It was soft, that's the first thing I noticed, nearly sponge-like. Crumbly and delectably warm. I don't know what's out there, but I'm going through. See you on the other side.
. . .
It's dark here too. But not nearly the same as the void. Here, there is still the notion that light exists. If not here, then somewhere. Something tells me it's above me. I don't know how or why, but I know that's where I have to go.
. . .
I dig. I don't have time to do much else. When I'm not digging, I'm sinking. Like I'm being buried alive in the stuff, though that's not the proper word for it. I guess I'm being buried dead.
. . .
It's dirt. It's taken so long to remember, been so long since I last saw it, but it finally hit me; It's dirt. The thing I first touched through the rift. The thing I've been digging through for an eternity. It's dirt. It's all dirt. This entire existence, whatever twisted reality neighbors the void, it's all just dirt. I would laugh if I thought I could open my mouth without swallowing lungfuls of loam.
. . .
Every day I dig a little higher.
. . .
I did it. I broke through. The first thing I noticed, being on the surface, was how cleanly my limbs sliced through the air. The air. I can breath again. My lungs rise and fall in the most wonderful imitation of life. How is this possible? Where am I now?
. . .
Behind me is the biggest tree I've ever seen. No, the word 'tree' doesn't do it justice. When I say tree, what do you think of, an oak? A conifer? Palm? This is none of those, nowhere even close. And yet it is all of them. It has branches. It has roots. It's leaves are galaxies and its trunk is all of time and space. It is the trinity of the divine. Lord Shiva forms its roots, upside-down, his hair curling into the dirt to transform its formless potential into raw energy. Brahma sits upon him in a rigid stance of deep meditation, forming the trunk of the magnificent World Tree. It is by his hands that the transformative energy of Shiva is molded into life. Creation itself., Vishnu burgeons over them all. He is the roof of this strange world I find myself in. The branches of the tree. It is his shade which preserves creation. It is from his leaves which sprout the many myriad galaxies. The fruit he bears are the many countless worlds of creation, each harboring life in its own way. Some even sprout societies, with individuals and hopes and dreams, who suffer and celebrate, whose lives play out in the blink of a cosmic eye.
 |
| The Tree of Life by Alex Gray. He is one of my favorite artists, and I though his painting was fitting |
The three gods of the Brahman's divine trinity say nothing to me. But I somehow know, all the same. I am to pick one of the fruits and take a bite. The decision is not so hard. Though there are fruits beyond number, there is one in particular which calls to me. It is the most delightful shade of blue, with here and there swirls of vibrant green and wispy trails of white. It tastes of home.
. . .
The next thing I remember, I forgot it all and was born anew. The world is very bright. I hear myself crying.
Week 14 Reading Diary: Rosencrantz and Ramayana
Well, since I totally forgot to do a reading yesterday, I went ahead and did my Tuesday reading of Ganesha Goes to Lunch today.
First of all, I loved the short allegory-type fables at the beginning. The one about the snake and the hermit, I just love the little punch at the end. Made me crack up. i could definitely see myself elaborating one one of these tales, most likely from the snakes POV or something, some twist on the events.
But the real pleasure this week was reading the Ramayana from a totally new perspective: the side characters!
What Kapur is doing with the Ramayana really reminded me of the play Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, which told the story of Shakespeare's 'Hamlet" from the perspective of two of the most minor characters. ALthough the entire epic of the Ramayana is not retold here, we do get a more in depth look at the motivations and backgrounds of several of the side characters, from Rama's Brother Lakshmana to Gautama and his wife and even a character I did not even remember from the epic, Guha.It was all just too cool. I really did enjoy reading about Guha and his special way of worshiping Shiva. I found him to be such a compelling character. I may decide to write about him in the future, we'll see.
First of all, I loved the short allegory-type fables at the beginning. The one about the snake and the hermit, I just love the little punch at the end. Made me crack up. i could definitely see myself elaborating one one of these tales, most likely from the snakes POV or something, some twist on the events.
But the real pleasure this week was reading the Ramayana from a totally new perspective: the side characters!
 |
| Ever wonder what that guy in the back is thinking? |
What Kapur is doing with the Ramayana really reminded me of the play Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, which told the story of Shakespeare's 'Hamlet" from the perspective of two of the most minor characters. ALthough the entire epic of the Ramayana is not retold here, we do get a more in depth look at the motivations and backgrounds of several of the side characters, from Rama's Brother Lakshmana to Gautama and his wife and even a character I did not even remember from the epic, Guha.It was all just too cool. I really did enjoy reading about Guha and his special way of worshiping Shiva. I found him to be such a compelling character. I may decide to write about him in the future, we'll see.
Thursday, April 21, 2016
Week 13 Storytelling: One Small Step for Man . . .
"Engage maximum thrust," Captain Armstrong said under the thrum of booster jets, the constant raucous snare of jet fueling burning a thousand gallons a second just beneath their feet. "Leaving atmosphere in 5 . . . 4 . . .
"3 . . .
"2 . . .
The crew of the Garuda emerged headlong into the weightless void of null gravity, the edge of space, frontier of the unknown. "1968 is gonna be a year for the history," Aldrin hollered, slapping his knee through his space suit. The others all called him 'Buzz" due to his choice of haircut. "Can ya believe it? First man in space!"
"Second," corrected Captain Armstrong. "Your chair is a foot an a half behind mine." He grinned.
"And even though my seats behind yours, Buzz," Sally taunted, "I still get a title of my own. Sally Ride, the first woman in space." She mimed her hands like a ringleader announcing the main event and punched Buzz playfully in the shoulder.
"Oh, so Krishna and I just get the short end of the stick, huh?" He turned back to check on the final member of the four man team. "Krishna, how ya doin' back there?"
"I believe I will live," Krishna said calmly. "I do wish I had a window seat, however. How is the view from up front, Captain?"
Armstrong turned to regard the universe ahead of them. It was blank. No stars, no galaxies, not even the faintest hint of the sun.
"Wha-" Buzz stammered behind him. "Who turned out all the lights? Captain, how are we supposed to go to the moon if we can't even find it up here?"
"Sally, get Houston on the phone. I need to know if there's a scientific explanation for this, some reason you can't see the stars in null G. I don't know, maybe the light needs an atmosphere to go through, like sound. It's go to be something."
Krishna took that moment to speak up. "Oh, there is an explanation, Captain. Though I do not think your scientists will be any more wise to it than you are."
Sally turned around in her seat, no easy feat while wearing a thirty pound enviro-stabilized space suit. "What are you talking about, Krishna? You know something we don't?"
Krishna spread his hands placatingly. "This is not my first life, Sally. I know many things you all could not possibly remember from all your thousands of previous lives on earth."
"What're you--Captain, what's he talking about?" Buzz shifted back and forth in a desperate search for guidance that was not to be found.
"Krishna, what's the meaning of this? As your captain I order you to explain yourself."
"You are my friend, Captain, and so I will do so. You see, this world is not as you think. All the earth exists as the dream of fair Vishnu, who lies asleep, alone in the primordial ocean of darkness. Everything you know is his dream, and exists solely between his ears. Oceans, mountains, grasslands, cities and houses and neighborhoods, your despised boss, your dearest friend, your beloved soulmate, all are but a dream for Lord Vishnu. We are all but figments of his imagination. The stars and nebulae are his thoughts, which drift intangibly above our heads. The sun and moon are his eyes. The wind is the breath from his great lungs. In his throat do all the sounds of the world originate, in his heart the pulse of the cosmos."
"Well that's all great and all," Buzz said, "but what the hell's it mean for us? Where are we? Vishnu's bunghole?"
Sally snickered, but the captain and Krishna remained staid. "If we all exist inside of Vishnu, the God of Preservation and Harmony, then . . ." The captain's eyes grew wide. "Then we must have just flown straight out his mouth."
En mass, the crew hysterically unbuckled from their seats and crowded tot he window. "It's no good," Armstrong declared. "We can't see anything from this angle. Buzz, turn us around."
"Roger, Captain."
As the Garuda slowly spun on its axis, Neil and Sally held hands and craned their necks to see. There was no light, wherever they were, and eventually Armstrong had all but given up hope of ever seeing the earth again, or Vishnu, or whatever they were looking for. He wasn't sure of anything anymore. Sally was crushing his hand in her grip. "There," she said, her voice somewhere between a gasp and a whisper.
And Neil saw it all at once. The enormous form, no more than an outline, a suggestion, barely glimpsed beside the dark of void. But it was unmistakable; a man. The silhouette of a man more massive, more all-encompassing than Neil Armstrong had ever thought possible. It towered larger in his mind than any thought he'd ever had. It dwarfed his own sense of self and made him feel like little more than a speck of dust in the wind.
Buzz fell to his knees and prostrated himself with the awkwardness of a pock-faced teen at his first dance. "Lord Vishnu!" he cried, "I'm sorry I never prayed to you before, I just--I just never knew!"
Krishna strode over to him and placed a delicate hand upon his shoulder. "There is no need for that, friend." Krishna then removed his helmet, revealing his true form. His skin was such a vibrant blue it made the captain homesick for an earth day's sky just to look upon him. He was a beautiful man, too. Neil felt a pang of jealous arise to see how Sally looked at him.
Krishna produced a slender flute from somewhere within his suit and began to play. The music was unlike nothing Armstrong had ever heard. The melody instantly slowed his heart rate and cooled his nerves. It sounded as if it were coming from both inside and outside the ship, though he knew that couldn't be right.
Suddenly the ship lurched and the crew was slammed to the side. All except Krishna, who remained playing with his feet firmly planted in divine balance.
"What in blazes . . .?"
Neil looked out the window to see it completely obscured by . . . "That can't be!"
Outside, the window was completely obscured by Vishnu's palm. The enormous celestial god whose very mind contained all of existence was grasping their ship in his own monstrous hand. By his divine grip, the Garuda was dragged effortlessly across the vastness of space and back into Vishnu's mouth. Back to everything Neil had ever known and loved. Back home.
Author's Note:
This story was inspired by my reading of Kamla Kapur's Ganesha Goes to Lunch, more specifically by the story "Out of Vishnu's Mouth," in which a wise old sage accidentally falls out of Vishnu;s mouth and into the primordial ocean, where he is saved by Vishnu's great bird companion, Garuda (the name of the ship, here).
I wanted to put a more modern spin on the story (if 1968 is modern). I chose to set the story up as a test flight from 1968 (not really historically accurate as the first man to go to space arrived in 1961, but whatever) starring all the most famous American astronauts--Neil Armstrong, Buzz Aldrin, and Sally Ride. And, you know, since this this an Indian Epics class, I also included Krishna.
I felt like I had to step out of the box a little with this one. Kapur is jst such a great writer that I felt there was no way to improve on the stories she's already told, so I decided I had to change it significantly enough to where I felt like I was still creating something new.
"3 . . .
"2 . . .
The crew of the Garuda emerged headlong into the weightless void of null gravity, the edge of space, frontier of the unknown. "1968 is gonna be a year for the history," Aldrin hollered, slapping his knee through his space suit. The others all called him 'Buzz" due to his choice of haircut. "Can ya believe it? First man in space!"
"Second," corrected Captain Armstrong. "Your chair is a foot an a half behind mine." He grinned.
"And even though my seats behind yours, Buzz," Sally taunted, "I still get a title of my own. Sally Ride, the first woman in space." She mimed her hands like a ringleader announcing the main event and punched Buzz playfully in the shoulder.
"Oh, so Krishna and I just get the short end of the stick, huh?" He turned back to check on the final member of the four man team. "Krishna, how ya doin' back there?"
"I believe I will live," Krishna said calmly. "I do wish I had a window seat, however. How is the view from up front, Captain?"
Armstrong turned to regard the universe ahead of them. It was blank. No stars, no galaxies, not even the faintest hint of the sun.
"Wha-" Buzz stammered behind him. "Who turned out all the lights? Captain, how are we supposed to go to the moon if we can't even find it up here?"
"Sally, get Houston on the phone. I need to know if there's a scientific explanation for this, some reason you can't see the stars in null G. I don't know, maybe the light needs an atmosphere to go through, like sound. It's go to be something."
Krishna took that moment to speak up. "Oh, there is an explanation, Captain. Though I do not think your scientists will be any more wise to it than you are."
Sally turned around in her seat, no easy feat while wearing a thirty pound enviro-stabilized space suit. "What are you talking about, Krishna? You know something we don't?"
Krishna spread his hands placatingly. "This is not my first life, Sally. I know many things you all could not possibly remember from all your thousands of previous lives on earth."
"What're you--Captain, what's he talking about?" Buzz shifted back and forth in a desperate search for guidance that was not to be found.
"Krishna, what's the meaning of this? As your captain I order you to explain yourself."
"You are my friend, Captain, and so I will do so. You see, this world is not as you think. All the earth exists as the dream of fair Vishnu, who lies asleep, alone in the primordial ocean of darkness. Everything you know is his dream, and exists solely between his ears. Oceans, mountains, grasslands, cities and houses and neighborhoods, your despised boss, your dearest friend, your beloved soulmate, all are but a dream for Lord Vishnu. We are all but figments of his imagination. The stars and nebulae are his thoughts, which drift intangibly above our heads. The sun and moon are his eyes. The wind is the breath from his great lungs. In his throat do all the sounds of the world originate, in his heart the pulse of the cosmos."
"Well that's all great and all," Buzz said, "but what the hell's it mean for us? Where are we? Vishnu's bunghole?"
Sally snickered, but the captain and Krishna remained staid. "If we all exist inside of Vishnu, the God of Preservation and Harmony, then . . ." The captain's eyes grew wide. "Then we must have just flown straight out his mouth."
En mass, the crew hysterically unbuckled from their seats and crowded tot he window. "It's no good," Armstrong declared. "We can't see anything from this angle. Buzz, turn us around."
"Roger, Captain."
As the Garuda slowly spun on its axis, Neil and Sally held hands and craned their necks to see. There was no light, wherever they were, and eventually Armstrong had all but given up hope of ever seeing the earth again, or Vishnu, or whatever they were looking for. He wasn't sure of anything anymore. Sally was crushing his hand in her grip. "There," she said, her voice somewhere between a gasp and a whisper.
And Neil saw it all at once. The enormous form, no more than an outline, a suggestion, barely glimpsed beside the dark of void. But it was unmistakable; a man. The silhouette of a man more massive, more all-encompassing than Neil Armstrong had ever thought possible. It towered larger in his mind than any thought he'd ever had. It dwarfed his own sense of self and made him feel like little more than a speck of dust in the wind.
 |
| Vishnu dreamin' up the universe |
Buzz fell to his knees and prostrated himself with the awkwardness of a pock-faced teen at his first dance. "Lord Vishnu!" he cried, "I'm sorry I never prayed to you before, I just--I just never knew!"
Krishna strode over to him and placed a delicate hand upon his shoulder. "There is no need for that, friend." Krishna then removed his helmet, revealing his true form. His skin was such a vibrant blue it made the captain homesick for an earth day's sky just to look upon him. He was a beautiful man, too. Neil felt a pang of jealous arise to see how Sally looked at him.
Krishna produced a slender flute from somewhere within his suit and began to play. The music was unlike nothing Armstrong had ever heard. The melody instantly slowed his heart rate and cooled his nerves. It sounded as if it were coming from both inside and outside the ship, though he knew that couldn't be right.
Suddenly the ship lurched and the crew was slammed to the side. All except Krishna, who remained playing with his feet firmly planted in divine balance.
"What in blazes . . .?"
Neil looked out the window to see it completely obscured by . . . "That can't be!"
Outside, the window was completely obscured by Vishnu's palm. The enormous celestial god whose very mind contained all of existence was grasping their ship in his own monstrous hand. By his divine grip, the Garuda was dragged effortlessly across the vastness of space and back into Vishnu's mouth. Back to everything Neil had ever known and loved. Back home.
Author's Note:
This story was inspired by my reading of Kamla Kapur's Ganesha Goes to Lunch, more specifically by the story "Out of Vishnu's Mouth," in which a wise old sage accidentally falls out of Vishnu;s mouth and into the primordial ocean, where he is saved by Vishnu's great bird companion, Garuda (the name of the ship, here).
I wanted to put a more modern spin on the story (if 1968 is modern). I chose to set the story up as a test flight from 1968 (not really historically accurate as the first man to go to space arrived in 1961, but whatever) starring all the most famous American astronauts--Neil Armstrong, Buzz Aldrin, and Sally Ride. And, you know, since this this an Indian Epics class, I also included Krishna.
I felt like I had to step out of the box a little with this one. Kapur is jst such a great writer that I felt there was no way to improve on the stories she's already told, so I decided I had to change it significantly enough to where I felt like I was still creating something new.
Week 13 Reading Part B: Ganesha at Last
In my continuation of Ganesha goes to Lunch things have finally started to heat up, as Ganesha makes his appearance.
I was a little surprised, if I'm being honest, as to the differences between this and Sir Edmund Charles Cox's recounting of the events, which seemed quite different last week. In this version, it was Shiva who cut off Ganesha's head, while in the other version it was someone else who had a curse upon them. And that is just one of the many differences I've noticed. Personally, I prefer this version- the characters are so much more richly motivated and the plot is much tighter and more coherent- but it does make me wonder how much artistic license Kapur is taking with the original tales.
But even if Kapur is making up more of this than he is retelling verbatim, I still prefer his recounting. I mean, his descriptions are just so beautiful, and his characterizations of the gods make more sense to me than any other I've read. Especially Shiva. Shiva;s personality has always been clouded in mystery from all the different sources I'd read about him this semester. In Kapur's version, this paradoxical nature is very intentional, and indeed he even plays off it for dramatic effect. Shiva is just a much more compelling and believable character in the way the Kapur describes himself, and I find myself fascinated with him, even though I thought that I would be most interested in Ganesha's character (the reason why I picked the book up in the first place)
I was a little surprised, if I'm being honest, as to the differences between this and Sir Edmund Charles Cox's recounting of the events, which seemed quite different last week. In this version, it was Shiva who cut off Ganesha's head, while in the other version it was someone else who had a curse upon them. And that is just one of the many differences I've noticed. Personally, I prefer this version- the characters are so much more richly motivated and the plot is much tighter and more coherent- but it does make me wonder how much artistic license Kapur is taking with the original tales.
But even if Kapur is making up more of this than he is retelling verbatim, I still prefer his recounting. I mean, his descriptions are just so beautiful, and his characterizations of the gods make more sense to me than any other I've read. Especially Shiva. Shiva;s personality has always been clouded in mystery from all the different sources I'd read about him this semester. In Kapur's version, this paradoxical nature is very intentional, and indeed he even plays off it for dramatic effect. Shiva is just a much more compelling and believable character in the way the Kapur describes himself, and I find myself fascinated with him, even though I thought that I would be most interested in Ganesha's character (the reason why I picked the book up in the first place)
 |
| Family Portrait: Shiva, Parvati, and Ganesha |
Wednesday, April 20, 2016
Week 13 Reading Diary A: Vishnu of the Pervasive Illusions
For my reading this wee I chose Ganesha Goes to Lunch by Kamla K. Kapur, and let me just say:
WOW. This is the best reading I have done for this class. Not only is it superbly written on a sentence-by-sentence basis, but the stories themselves are so rich and full of wisdom. I am really resonating with this piece. The only thing is, it's so long! I've had to extend into the grace period just to finish my Tuesday reading (I'm a slow reader so it's taken like 4 hours to finish Part A).
My favorite parts so far have been about Vishnu and illusions. The way that Vishnu incarnates Narada into a new body may well be the most beautiful piece of prose I have read in weeks. And the lessons to learn from these stories are quite sagely, especially the story about falling out of Vishnu's mouth; really palpable stuff!
I actually wish I owned this book!!
WOW. This is the best reading I have done for this class. Not only is it superbly written on a sentence-by-sentence basis, but the stories themselves are so rich and full of wisdom. I am really resonating with this piece. The only thing is, it's so long! I've had to extend into the grace period just to finish my Tuesday reading (I'm a slow reader so it's taken like 4 hours to finish Part A).
My favorite parts so far have been about Vishnu and illusions. The way that Vishnu incarnates Narada into a new body may well be the most beautiful piece of prose I have read in weeks. And the lessons to learn from these stories are quite sagely, especially the story about falling out of Vishnu's mouth; really palpable stuff!
 |
| Vishnu's Mouth; AKA the gateway to the known universe |
I actually wish I owned this book!!
Thursday, April 14, 2016
Week 12 Storytelling: The Gods of India and the World Today
All the gods of man and beast gathered round the table--no mere fabrication of wood nor stone, but rather a finite surface of the infinite, the limitless boundaries of the three sacred realms distilled upon its surface, radiating outward in perfect detail. The earth, the heavens, and all which lie beyond were etched upon the surface of the table fine enough to see every atom of creation, and all playing out in real time as the mortals toiled below in their oblivious lives.
It was the playground of the gods.
"You all know the reason why I have called you together this day," said Vishnu, seated at one of the three heads of the table. "The world of man is in disarray. It is fragmenting. Men speak of building walls, of separating themselves from their kin. They allot more in the pursuit of warfare than in the pursuit of knowledge. They bicker among themselves over giving shelter to refugees, healing the sick, teaching the young. And yet all the while the select few pile their riches behind closed doors. Plumes of noxious smoke cloud the skies, islands of plastic refuse clog the oceans, and still the mortals turn a blind eye.
"What is to be done about this, brothers and sisters? I am known as Vishnu the Preserver, but even I am flummoxed with these mortals. It seems that in order to preserve their world, we cannot preserve their species."
A chaotic buzz erupted across the universal table as the gods broke into argument among themselves.
"Silence!" Lord Shiva's tone could brook no argument. "I am the Lord of Destruction and Transformation. These humans have long outlived their mandate, if you ask me. They grow and consume as if unaware of their very transience upon this world. I say, they should be punished for their insolence, reminded of their fragility. The earth should be wiped clean of any trace of their blasphemous existence."
That only served to ramp up the heat of argument. Voices flew across the table without regard for who sent them or which poor soul might receive the brazen indignations therein. The festering air of derision was only becalmed by the great trumpeting of an elephant's trunk.
"Brothers," said Ganesha, the source of wisdom, "sisters. Please. Can you not see that by arguing so, we are no better than the mortals? We have not yet heard from Brahma, who created the mortals and their world in the first place. As a parent oversees the growth of their offspring, so too must Brahma weigh in on this issue."
"Wise words, old friend," Brahma said. The Lord of Creation cleared his many throats. "It is true. I have love for these mortals and the world they have made for themselves, as a parent would their children. But I also have sorrow in my heart to see what has become of them, to see how they treat my other creations. I have created such willful beings . . ." Brahma turned inward and spake no more, lost in thought.
"I side with Shiva," said Kali. "Only death can bring everlasting peace."
"Well, I side with the humans," said Lakshmi, wife of Vishnu and Goddess of Prosperity. "They have shown themselves to be nothing if not resourceful. Look at all they have accomplished. Should they be punished for their successes?"
"If their success occurs at the expense of my oceans," said Varuna.
"But they're getting better," said Vayu. "They are beginning to harness my winds for power."
"And my sun," said Surya.
Finally, Indra, the King of the Gods, weighed in. "The yoke of leadership was thrust upon me eons ago. I think I know a thing or two about what it means to lead. The problem is not with the humans themselves, but rather with their leaders. Absolute power corrupts absolutely. Believe it or not, it was a human who came up with that one. Brothers and sisters, If you should so deem fit, I could incarnate into their world to lead the mortals down the path of holy righteousness myself.
"No," said Ganesha, ever the voice of wisdom. "That will not change the humans' hearts. The change must come from within themselves."
"He is right," assented Lord Vishnu. "I have heard what you all have to say and have come to believe that the world has no need of gods any longer. They do not need Lord Brahma to create; they have their ingenuity for that. They do not need myself to preserve; they have their own conscience. And they do not need Lord Shiva to affect transformation; they must awaken to it themselves. It is up to the humans to make their world a better place, for themselves and for their fellow creation."
And one by one, the gods left the universal table.
Author's Note:
I see this as the capping stone for a long and enlightening semester of studying the Indian epics. I have learned so much about the gods of ancient India, and I wanted to tell a story that synergizes my learning with real-world relevance.
I tried to give every god their own voice, no matter how nominal their appearance. I tried to use as many of the gods we've learned about as possible, but there are just so many it would be impossible to include them all. I really wanted to describe their appearance too, and I think I could have had a lot of fun with that, but there just wasn't enough room to include much more than dialogue.
Really, this piece is about the message, which I think is pretty self-evident. I wanted to craft a social commentary on such wide-reaching issues as global warming, the Syrian refugee crises, Trump's wall, and even the occupy Wall Street movement. And most importantly I wanted to capture what each god's opinions on the global issues would be. I hope I was successful in that.
The personalities of each god were more or less derived from Sir Edmund Charles Cox's Krishna and Other Gods reading from this week.
It was the playground of the gods.
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| The closest thing I could find |
"You all know the reason why I have called you together this day," said Vishnu, seated at one of the three heads of the table. "The world of man is in disarray. It is fragmenting. Men speak of building walls, of separating themselves from their kin. They allot more in the pursuit of warfare than in the pursuit of knowledge. They bicker among themselves over giving shelter to refugees, healing the sick, teaching the young. And yet all the while the select few pile their riches behind closed doors. Plumes of noxious smoke cloud the skies, islands of plastic refuse clog the oceans, and still the mortals turn a blind eye.
"What is to be done about this, brothers and sisters? I am known as Vishnu the Preserver, but even I am flummoxed with these mortals. It seems that in order to preserve their world, we cannot preserve their species."
A chaotic buzz erupted across the universal table as the gods broke into argument among themselves.
"Silence!" Lord Shiva's tone could brook no argument. "I am the Lord of Destruction and Transformation. These humans have long outlived their mandate, if you ask me. They grow and consume as if unaware of their very transience upon this world. I say, they should be punished for their insolence, reminded of their fragility. The earth should be wiped clean of any trace of their blasphemous existence."
That only served to ramp up the heat of argument. Voices flew across the table without regard for who sent them or which poor soul might receive the brazen indignations therein. The festering air of derision was only becalmed by the great trumpeting of an elephant's trunk.
"Brothers," said Ganesha, the source of wisdom, "sisters. Please. Can you not see that by arguing so, we are no better than the mortals? We have not yet heard from Brahma, who created the mortals and their world in the first place. As a parent oversees the growth of their offspring, so too must Brahma weigh in on this issue."
"Wise words, old friend," Brahma said. The Lord of Creation cleared his many throats. "It is true. I have love for these mortals and the world they have made for themselves, as a parent would their children. But I also have sorrow in my heart to see what has become of them, to see how they treat my other creations. I have created such willful beings . . ." Brahma turned inward and spake no more, lost in thought.
"I side with Shiva," said Kali. "Only death can bring everlasting peace."
"Well, I side with the humans," said Lakshmi, wife of Vishnu and Goddess of Prosperity. "They have shown themselves to be nothing if not resourceful. Look at all they have accomplished. Should they be punished for their successes?"
"If their success occurs at the expense of my oceans," said Varuna.
"But they're getting better," said Vayu. "They are beginning to harness my winds for power."
"And my sun," said Surya.
Finally, Indra, the King of the Gods, weighed in. "The yoke of leadership was thrust upon me eons ago. I think I know a thing or two about what it means to lead. The problem is not with the humans themselves, but rather with their leaders. Absolute power corrupts absolutely. Believe it or not, it was a human who came up with that one. Brothers and sisters, If you should so deem fit, I could incarnate into their world to lead the mortals down the path of holy righteousness myself.
"No," said Ganesha, ever the voice of wisdom. "That will not change the humans' hearts. The change must come from within themselves."
"He is right," assented Lord Vishnu. "I have heard what you all have to say and have come to believe that the world has no need of gods any longer. They do not need Lord Brahma to create; they have their ingenuity for that. They do not need myself to preserve; they have their own conscience. And they do not need Lord Shiva to affect transformation; they must awaken to it themselves. It is up to the humans to make their world a better place, for themselves and for their fellow creation."
And one by one, the gods left the universal table.
Author's Note:
I see this as the capping stone for a long and enlightening semester of studying the Indian epics. I have learned so much about the gods of ancient India, and I wanted to tell a story that synergizes my learning with real-world relevance.
I tried to give every god their own voice, no matter how nominal their appearance. I tried to use as many of the gods we've learned about as possible, but there are just so many it would be impossible to include them all. I really wanted to describe their appearance too, and I think I could have had a lot of fun with that, but there just wasn't enough room to include much more than dialogue.
Really, this piece is about the message, which I think is pretty self-evident. I wanted to craft a social commentary on such wide-reaching issues as global warming, the Syrian refugee crises, Trump's wall, and even the occupy Wall Street movement. And most importantly I wanted to capture what each god's opinions on the global issues would be. I hope I was successful in that.
The personalities of each god were more or less derived from Sir Edmund Charles Cox's Krishna and Other Gods reading from this week.
Wednesday, April 13, 2016
Week 12 Reading Diary B: Gods and Goddesses
This reading was the real reason I chose Cox's Krishna and Other Gods for my reading this week. I have always been fascinated by Indian mythology, and was craving the chance to learn more about the other gods.
I did find it interesting that each god/goddess was presented to us through a story of their exploits. SO far [at the time of me writing this] my favorite has been Indra's. Indians sure do love their epic battles between good and evil, don't they? But I must say, the imagery of Indra firing red lightning bolts, backed by flaming storm warriors, all attacking a billowing storm cloud fortress is just tantalizing!
I was also immensely fascinated by the Soma entry. Soma actually factors into my novel, so it was very very fascinating seeing the ancient Indian perspective on it. For those that don't know, Soma was an ancient drug that gave people hallucinations and psychedelic visions. The interesting thing is that no one in modern times knows the plant from which it was derived from. The Indian mythology explaining all of this (how Soma came to earth from the heavens, but went on to anger the gods and incite a war only to be banished from earth by Brahma) was a mesmerizing rendition of historic fact.
Also, that story about Brahma was just about the most funny thing I've ever read for this class. It starts out all cosmic and mystical, and gives this huge sense of all powerfullness to Brahma and his wife. And then he holds a sacrifice, and she doesn't want to show up before the other gods' wives and she has chores to do around the house, so Brahma gets impatient and get Indra to find a new wife for him. Then Brahma's wife gets pissed and curses everyone. It's just such a contrast to the beginning of the story; totally humanizes Brahma to the point of comedic effect. I loved it! hahaha
I did find it interesting that each god/goddess was presented to us through a story of their exploits. SO far [at the time of me writing this] my favorite has been Indra's. Indians sure do love their epic battles between good and evil, don't they? But I must say, the imagery of Indra firing red lightning bolts, backed by flaming storm warriors, all attacking a billowing storm cloud fortress is just tantalizing!
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| Yeah this is when you know you f**ked up |
I was also immensely fascinated by the Soma entry. Soma actually factors into my novel, so it was very very fascinating seeing the ancient Indian perspective on it. For those that don't know, Soma was an ancient drug that gave people hallucinations and psychedelic visions. The interesting thing is that no one in modern times knows the plant from which it was derived from. The Indian mythology explaining all of this (how Soma came to earth from the heavens, but went on to anger the gods and incite a war only to be banished from earth by Brahma) was a mesmerizing rendition of historic fact.
Also, that story about Brahma was just about the most funny thing I've ever read for this class. It starts out all cosmic and mystical, and gives this huge sense of all powerfullness to Brahma and his wife. And then he holds a sacrifice, and she doesn't want to show up before the other gods' wives and she has chores to do around the house, so Brahma gets impatient and get Indra to find a new wife for him. Then Brahma's wife gets pissed and curses everyone. It's just such a contrast to the beginning of the story; totally humanizes Brahma to the point of comedic effect. I loved it! hahaha
Week 12 Reading Diary A: The Life of Krishna
For my reading diary this week, I decided to read Sir Edmund Charles' Tales of Ancient India, Krishna and Other Gods.
Krishna was a fascinating character for me in the Mahabharata, and I was interested to learn more about his story. And boy did I!
I loved the parallelisms (and stark juxtapositions) drawn between Krishna and his archnemesis Kansa. Starting from each of their births, one where the earth grieved and the other where it flourished. They were literally born to be at eachother's throats. Usually, I am not such a fan of the fight of good vs. evil, I much prefer morally ambiguous characters and gray zones, but here I think it totally worked.
However, there was never much worry about Krishna losing. Kansa was a wimp compared to Krishna, who was literally performing miraculous feats of strength since birth. Speaking of, I really enjoyed how Krishna spent his youth as a cowherd. It sort of reminded me of the humble nomadic origins of an earth-mover like Ghengis Khan, who also rose to overthrow an empire. But unlike Khan or Rama, Krishna does it while still half a child.
That's another thing that struck me about this piece. Krishna is freaking BRUTAL. Like . . . bloodthirsty, metal, fist-bangingly brutal. He kills a giant elephant with his bear hands, then proceeds to literally stomp Kansa into slush. As a 12 year old boy he literally curb stomps the king into oblivion. Holy cow-herd!
Krishna was a fascinating character for me in the Mahabharata, and I was interested to learn more about his story. And boy did I!
I loved the parallelisms (and stark juxtapositions) drawn between Krishna and his archnemesis Kansa. Starting from each of their births, one where the earth grieved and the other where it flourished. They were literally born to be at eachother's throats. Usually, I am not such a fan of the fight of good vs. evil, I much prefer morally ambiguous characters and gray zones, but here I think it totally worked.
However, there was never much worry about Krishna losing. Kansa was a wimp compared to Krishna, who was literally performing miraculous feats of strength since birth. Speaking of, I really enjoyed how Krishna spent his youth as a cowherd. It sort of reminded me of the humble nomadic origins of an earth-mover like Ghengis Khan, who also rose to overthrow an empire. But unlike Khan or Rama, Krishna does it while still half a child.
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| Krishna, putting the beat down on Kansa |
Friday, April 8, 2016
Week 11: Famous Last Words
This week was very relaxed, both in this class and my other ones too. I wrote waaaay too much for my storytelling last week, and so decided to split it up into two weeks, so I hardly had to write anything this week! (Just had to go through my 2,000 word story for typos).
Right now my biggest concern for this class is not packing in as many stories as I could into my portfolio. Professor Gibbs is really helping me out in my writing, and I love developing my skill, so naturally I want as much feedback as possible on my various stories. I want to pack my portfolio.
So, next week I have decided to upload part one of my 22 Goblins story, and add in a link or something to part 2. That way, it is like have both parts in my portfolio and still leaves me space to add another creative work in later weeks.
My biggest problem in this class is actually OVER-writing. I uploaded a story to my portfolio (Part 2 of Arjuna's Gifts) and did not even realize it was over the thousand word limit. The story just had so much fast-paced action that when I read it over it seemed to go by so quickly it never even occured to me it was so long! And then, to make matters worse, my 22 goblins story was TWICE the word limit!!
I'm just trying to pack so much into more stories that it kind of gets away from me I guess. Editing down is certainly a useful skill to have as a writer, so maybe I'll try to work on that more. But there's just no way I can slash my baby in half- I love her too much!
Right now my biggest concern for this class is not packing in as many stories as I could into my portfolio. Professor Gibbs is really helping me out in my writing, and I love developing my skill, so naturally I want as much feedback as possible on my various stories. I want to pack my portfolio.
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| A visual representation of how I want my portfolio to look |
So, next week I have decided to upload part one of my 22 Goblins story, and add in a link or something to part 2. That way, it is like have both parts in my portfolio and still leaves me space to add another creative work in later weeks.
My biggest problem in this class is actually OVER-writing. I uploaded a story to my portfolio (Part 2 of Arjuna's Gifts) and did not even realize it was over the thousand word limit. The story just had so much fast-paced action that when I read it over it seemed to go by so quickly it never even occured to me it was so long! And then, to make matters worse, my 22 goblins story was TWICE the word limit!!
I'm just trying to pack so much into more stories that it kind of gets away from me I guess. Editing down is certainly a useful skill to have as a writer, so maybe I'll try to work on that more. But there's just no way I can slash my baby in half- I love her too much!
Wednesday, April 6, 2016
Week 11 Reading Diary: Goblins Twelve-Fourteen
So even though I already wrote my storytelling over Ryder's Twelve Goblins last week, I am going back through the Goblins I missed, and if one sticks out enough to me I'll probably go back and add it to my already ridiculously long story!
Goblin Twelve: Man, I must really be getting the hang of these. I totally predicted the wise king's answer. It was the Brahman who was responsible for his death. He should have been paying attention and noticed the snake venom falling into his food. I don't always agree with the king, but here I do 100%. This would have been a very good story to include in my storytelling post.
Goblin Thirteen: This was a cool story, but it ended much too happily for me. It also raises some interesting questions which the goblin never even thinks to ask, like 'If the thief became reformed by Shiva's hand, is he still the same man the merchant's daughter fell in love with?" That would have been a much more poignant question than, "Did the thief laugh or weep?" The goblin's question ruined this one for me.
Goblin Fourteen (My favorite number): Again, I did not like the king's answer, though I understood it. I think the problem here is with the convoluted story in general. I mean, Moon's character isn't really necessary for anything other than ending the story in this sort of unsatisfying way. If Master-mind had pretended to be the Brahman's son and married the princess, now THAT would have been a great ending (in my opinion). Much more satisfying.
Goblin Twelve: Man, I must really be getting the hang of these. I totally predicted the wise king's answer. It was the Brahman who was responsible for his death. He should have been paying attention and noticed the snake venom falling into his food. I don't always agree with the king, but here I do 100%. This would have been a very good story to include in my storytelling post.
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| Was it the Hawk's fault for killing the snake? |
Goblin Fourteen (My favorite number): Again, I did not like the king's answer, though I understood it. I think the problem here is with the convoluted story in general. I mean, Moon's character isn't really necessary for anything other than ending the story in this sort of unsatisfying way. If Master-mind had pretended to be the Brahman's son and married the princess, now THAT would have been a great ending (in my opinion). Much more satisfying.
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