Tuesday, May 3, 2016
Course Reading Feedback
I truly believe that Ganesha Goes to Lunch by Kamla Kapur should be required reading for this course. It is just too good not to be.I really feel that students in this course who did not get a chance to read it are missing out, and in effect doing a disservice to themselves. It was the most well written, most powerful reading I did all semester. It builds perfectly off the Ramayana and the Mahabharata and lets us get to know the gods and goddesses in such a more intimate way than we would otherwise. I absolutely believe that it is worth two weeks of the class' time to read through and learn from. For me, it was the perfect final reading to synergize everything I'd learned over the semester and grant me a deeper understanding of Indian mythology and philosophy of living.
Friday, April 29, 2016
Portfolio Index
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.
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.
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!!
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