Week 13 Storytelling: Old Tales on Young Ears

            “Grandma?” Virahan approached his grandmother with an inquisitive look in his eye and a twinge of guilt on his face.

            “Yes, my dear?” Virahan’s grandmother was very accustomed to him approaching her this way. His mother didn’t have quite the patience for his endless stream of questions, so the boy often came to his grandmother when he was in need of answers.

            “What’s going to happen when you die?”

            Virahan’s grandmother chuckled. The boy’s innocence was far from gone, and death was a hard concept for a 6-year-old to grasp.

            “Well, I won’t be here anymore.”

            “Then where will you go?”

            His Grandmother paused for a second, trying to determine what answer would satisfy such a young mind. “Well, I guess I’ll go live with Yama.”

            “Who’s Yama?”

            Oh dear, she thought to herself. I’ve set him off. “He’s the god of death. He rules over the afterlife, where everyone goes when they die.”

            “Why?”

            Virahan’s grandmother chuckled once more. She set down the dough she was kneading and turned to face her curious grandson.

            “You are full of questions today, aren’t you Virahan?”

            “Sorry Grandma…”

            “No, my child, it’s quite alright. Yama became the god of the underworld many years ago, when his sister cursed him to live down there.”

            “Well that wasn’t a very nice thing to do.”

            “Believe it or not, it wasn’t really on purpose. His sister loved him very much, but she was a powerful goddess. Her curse was an accident, just like sometimes we have accidents that hurt people we love.”

            “How did she curse him?”

            “Well, she grew very angry at him. And in her anger, she cursed him to die. He was the first thing in all the universe to die, so he became the god of death.”

            “Why was she angry at him?”

            That question was a harder one to answer. She knew the legend of course; Yama’s sister, Yami, had loved her brother in more ways than one. After spending an eternity with him, she had fallen madly in love with him. Of course, for millennia, she said nothing, but she admired her beautiful brother from afar. One day, she felt she could yearn no longer. Even for the gods, it was forbidden to love a sibling. Yami knew it was wrong, but more importantly, Yama knew it was wrong. When the goddess threw herself at her brother, he declined her advances. In her wrath, she killed him.

            “Yami loved her brother like your mother loves your father, but such a love was forbidden, even among the gods. When she wasn’t allowed to love him, she blamed him.”

            The inquisitive look on Virahan’s face remained, but the boy fell silent for a moment.

            “You want to know what happened to Yami, don’t you?”

            The boy nodded his head up and down quickly.

            “Well, she became so sad at what she had done that she transformed into the goddess of the night. We call her Yamini so that we may remember her sorrow and remember not to lash out at the people we love.”

            “Grandma… why can’t she love her brother like my mom loves my dad?”

            Virahan’s grandmother closed her eyes and sighed. “That sounds like an excellent question for your mother.”

           

This story is based on the legend of Yama and Yami, told in Epified's 7 Secrets of the Goddess. The excerpt I chose happens at 0:26. In the episode, it is explained that in ancient india, there was a time when women had the choice of who their sexual partners would be. Thus, a male rejecting a females advances was associated with bad things, including death. This led to the story of Yama and Yami, in which Yama died just from rejecting his sister's sexual advances. When he died, he became the god of death, and began to rule the underworld.

Image Info

Yama, God of Death - Wikimedia

           

Week 12 Storytelling: Trial by Virtue

Alexa shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Her back had begun to itch, but she couldn’t quite reach it with her hands tied together. Besides, the king seemed to take any noticeable action she made as a personal insult. She pressed her back against her chair and tried to squirm subtly. The king shot her a dirty look, and Alexa wondered if he had seen her squirming or if he had just decided furthermore that she was guilty.

“I’m sorry my dear, are you uncomfortable?” the king asked her. Alexa didn’t reply; nothing she said would be what he wanted to hear. “Sir John, I think she’s uncomfortable. Why don’t you tighten her ropes.” The captain of the guard approached her with a forlorn look in his eyes and tightened the rope around her wrists.

            Three days ago, Alexa found her fiancé dead in his bed with six stab wounds in his chest. Although Prince Richard had loved Alexa dearly, his father, the king, had not. Many nobles had offered wealth and allegiance for the prince to take their daughters’ hands, but Richard had no intention of playing politics for his father. He instead fell in love with Alexa. Of course, there wasn’t a single drop of noble blood in Alexa’s entire body, and the king blamed her for ruining Richard’s chances of marrying a proper princess.

The moment the king heard of the death of his son and that Alexa was the first to find the body, he gave the order to throw her in the dungeons. Still, the king loved his son dearly, and as important as it was to him to enact his vengeance on his son’s fiancée, it was equally important to him to find the murderer with no question of doubt. She was allowed to appear before him and plead her case.

            “My lord, pressing as the evidence may be, I would remind your greatness that any intelligent assassin is perfectly capable of placing that evidence in a way so as to lead away from themselves.” Alexa didn’t know the name of her lawyer, for he had been appointed by the king. Despite where his paycheck came from, he seemed incredibly dedicated to proving her innocence. Alexa wondered if he actually believed she was innocent or was merely dedicated to doing his job.

            Nothing that Alexa or her lawyer had said over the last two days seemed to have any visible effect on the king’s pending verdict. The king’s investigators had found mounds of evidence against her. The bloody knife was found in her drawer, hidden in a secret compartment only she was supposed to know about. A blood splattered dress was found shoved into a book drawer in the prince’s room as if to be hidden. Alexa had been the only one who knew the prince would be residing in the castle; the couple had been long in need of some alone time, and Richard had made sure to tell the whole kingdom that he would be on a week-long hunting trip.

            “Your quarry is heard,” the king said. “Lord Warren, have you any additional evidence to submit today?”

            “Yes, my lord.”

            “And what might that be?”

            “This was found in a drawer in her desk.”

            Lord Warren placed a hand-written note in front of the king. He picked it up and read it, a wrathful look appearing on his face as his eyes traced the words. He put the note down and stared straight at Alexa. “It’s time. You’ll get the second half of your payment when we have confirmed the job is done.” The court was silent for a moment before the king stood, his face red with anger, and yelled “Gold?! You killed my son for gold?!”

            Alexa’s lawyer stood up and spoke, the words leaving his mouth rapidly but perfectly clearly. “My lord, it makes no sense, Alexa would inherit more money by marrying-”

            “SILENCE!” The king’s face was twitching. “I will hear no more from your defense. I deem you, Alexa Wilson, guilty of murder, and sentence you to death by execution before nightfall. What have you to say?”

            Silence befell the court as all eyes fell on Alexa. The king continued to stare at her, unblinking. She stood from her chair and met the king’s gaze. She spoke softly, only loud enough that the whole court could hear. “My lord… no, my father, for that is what I planned to call you for the rest of my life. My father, I loved your son more dearly than I’ve loved anything in life, and I would live in eternal torment if it meant that he would be happy.” She looked away from the king and looked to the sky. “If I have done nothing but love Richard, and tried my best to make his life as wonderful as he deserved, if my soul is as pure as his was, then may the goddess of justice herself show it.” The court stood in silence, waiting for something, any kind of sign. But none came.

            “Lord Warren, take her to the guillotine.” The king commanded. Yet the moment Lord Warren took one step forward, a loud crash echoed amongst the walls, and debris rained down from above. The entire court looked upwards and saw a glowing gash in the ceiling of the king’s court. Descending from it slowly was a woman with golden skin. In her four arms, she held a sword of shining brilliance and a perfectly balanced scale. As her feet touched the floor of the court, she stared deeply into Alexa’s eyes. She raised the sword above her head and brought it down with a ferocious blur. As it struck Alexa, a blinding flash blinded the court, and everyone present turned their heads and covered their eyes. Yet when they finally looked again, the goddess was nowhere to be seen. Where she had been, Alexa stood alone, her bindings simmering on the floor.

Image Information

Lady Justice - Wikimedia

Author's Note: This story is based off of a scene in Sita Sings the Blues, which occurs at about 1 hour, 11 minutes, and 30 seconds. After banishing her to live in exile, Rama finds Sita's two sons (his own sons) and asks them to return with him to Ayhodia. However, he is still distrustful of Sita, and asks her to prove her purity once more. Sita openly declares that if she has been perfectly faithful to Rama and completely pure in body and soul, then mother earth should take her back into her womb. The ground splits, and mother earth appears and takes her. I liked the idea of a character who is wholly innocent, like Sita, and is accused falsely of something, being so pure that the gods actually listen to her demand to show her purity. I wanted to adapt the story to have a little more on the line, so that the god appearing would be even more significant; thus, I did my best to adapt it to a murder trial. The goddess is I chose is not wholly in any pantheon; I wanted to combine the standard image of Lady Justice with that of an Indian goddess. 

Week 11 Storytelling: The Teachings of Durga

            Kansa marched down the stairs of his palace quickly. The sun had barely begun to rise, and the dark of night was still present, but his tiredness had faded quickly when he heard the news. His sister, Devaki, had given birth to her eighth child, the child that the gods themselves said would kill Kansa. None of the guards would say it, but despite the coolness of the palace, Kansa was sweating.

            At the bottom of the stairs, four guards stood by the doors to the dungeon. The air was damp and smelled of death and decay. Kansa smiled as the stench entered his nostrils. The guards all fell to their knees as Kansa arrived. “My lord, the child is in here.” The guard spoke clearly but without raising his head. Kansa walked quickly passed him and pushed the door open.

            Behind the iron bars of the dungeon, Devaki, her husband Vasudeva, and their newly born child sat quietly. The married couple wore torn rags – the only clothes Kansa had given them in 4 years -  and the child lay naked in her mother’s arms. They smiled lightly, but tear streaks had cut clear paths down their dirty faces.

            “Is it true?” Kansa yelled from across the room. His voice echoed lightly off of the mossy stone walls. “Is this the eighth child of Devaki? The child who will bring about my doom?” The smiles left the faces of both parents, and they looked at Kansa with fear in their eyes. But just then, Kansa saw the child. A hearty laugh filled the dungeon.

            “A girl?” Kansa said to no one in particular. “A little girl will kill the great demon king?” Kansa’s hearty laughter was replaced by an uproarious cackling. No other sound dared intrude on the king’s joyous moment. Finishing his laughter, the king looked upwards and yelled “Gods, do you hear me? You will have to do better than that!”

            Kansa shoved the bar door open and snagged the innocent child from his sister. Both parents cried out as he slammed the door shut, blocking them from their child. “Is this your powerful warrior? Your destined Savior? A girl?” Kansa shouted at the sky once more. He drew his knife and raised it above the child’s head.

            Just as the Kansa’s hand began to fall, an explosion of light filled the dungeon. Kansa was thrown against the wall, his knife tumbling to the ground as he slammed his back against the stone. Vasudeva and Devaki shielded their eyes as the light of the sun itself emanated from the center of the dungeon. The light slowly began to fade, until only a soft golden glow remained, bright enough to block out the torches on the wall but soft enough to look at harmlessly.

            As Kansa opened his eyes, he saw the source of the light clearly; a heavenly woman, clad in armor with golden glowing skin. Countless arms emanated outwards from her, most of which carried a terrifying weapon of divine design. Hundreds of rubies lined both her weapons and her armor. Her black hair floated freely behind her, as if sitting still in water. Her face was still and calm, but her eyes were locked with Kansa’s, and he could see a burning hatred stirring within her pupils.

            Kansa reached down to grasp his knife, but his hand hadn’t moved an inch before 2 heavenly arms flew forward and shoved him up against the wall, one hand shoving his chest and the other with fingers wrapped tightly around his throat. Kansa tried to choke out a sound but managed only to gurgle quietly.

            Durga’s mouth opened, and her voice was like fire. “You find women weak, Kansa? Do you find me weak?”

            The goddess’s fingers lightened their grip around Kansa’s throat, but his response was still raspy and quiet. “No, Ma Durga.”

            “You would be a fool to think so.” Her fingers tightened their grip lightly, and her other hand pushed Kansa harder against the wall. “I’ve killed demons a thousand times more powerful than you with only one hand. I’ve killed demons who earned the world with their ferocity, and you are nothing next to them.” Durga spat the words at Kansa, her eyes narrowing as she spoke. “If it were not Vishnu’s duty, I would have become a girl and killed you myself, if only I had heard your challenges before he was reincarnated.” At the mention of Vishnu, Kansa’s eyes widened even further in shock and fear.

            Durga laughed a taunting laugh. “Ah, yes, you don’t know. Devaki’s eighth son escaped in the night. Vishnu’s next avatar is upon the world, and by now, well out of your reach. Your demise has already been written, or I would strike you down myself.”

With that, Durga dropped the demon king on the ground and turned to Devaki and Vasudeva. She flicked one of her many swords in the air, and from the tip of the blade, golden thread came forth and wrapped itself around the prisoners, weaving them elegant clothing. “I can do no more for you, but know that my strength is in you. Kansa will keep you here, but you must live on. One day, your son will come, and his strength will be matched only by his kindness. On that day, you will taste joy once more.” Devaki and Vasudeva bowed their  heads, and with a bright flash, Durga was gone, and the child was nowhere to be found.

This story is based on epified's series about the life of krishna, particularly Episode 3, Durga Speaks to Kansa. I found the idea of a warrior goddess chastising the demon king just delicious, and wanted to get in on the sweet karma action. I changed very little, just making Durga a little meaner, and adding some descriptions.

Image Information
Durga Statue - Wikiquotes