Week 11 Storytelling: To Suffer? Or to Live?

A soft breeze. The blades of grass softly grazing his skin. The shadow of the bodhi tree casting a shadow over his body while protecting him from the harsh rays of sunlight around him. 

Lotus art. 

Source: Lindelokse at DeviantArt.

Siddhartha breathed in deeply and slowly through his nose. He noticed the scent of the air around him. The way the air traveled into his body. The way his chest rose and fell and with each breath he took. This was it. This was what he spent a large part of his life searching for: freedom from the suffering of the world. From the moment he became the Buddha, Siddhartha lived each day with splendor and compassion. He was a part of the world and at the same time, the world was a part of him. 

He let his mind settle into quiet meditation and felt the rest of his body melt away as the physical senses were not important any longer. It was simply himself and his mind. But for some reason, this time it was different. Instead of casting complete stillness and silence over everything, his mind's eye was casting a faint light. Thinking nothing of it and willing it to melt away, Siddhartha continued to focus on his breathing. The light had no intention of fading away, and instead, it got even brighter. Brighter and brighter, still, it became until a scene appeared in front of him. It seems that he was looking in on something happening as an omnipotent presence. 

He saw himself in the arms of his mother. Although he was still newly born, he knew that the baby in the arms of one of the most beautiful women in history was him. Inexplicable yet sure, he looked on. Somehow, the scene sped up and he was no longer a baby. He was a young boy, barely past the age of 10, running into the arms of his mother. His mother? What was she doing here? He was told she passed when he was barely a week old...

The scene sped up yet again, going further than it did before. The younger version of him was walking down the road where he remembered seeing the three men who helped realize the suffering in the world. Yet, the sick man was not there. The old man was not there and neither was the dead man. The roads were empty and void of people or any person who seemed to be suffering an ailments. Puzzled, Siddhartha looked at the younger him once again to see a young man who was simply happily strolling through his kingdom. 

The next scene was his coronation as the next king. He saw his father look upon him with proud eyes. His mother was right by his side holding his hand. Somehow, what he was seeing did not make sense any longer. What was happening? Why was his mind showing him this story which made no sense and followed a completely different trajectory than what actually happened?

The final scene. He saw himself, as a 60-year-old man, crying next to a bed. Walking over to see who was on the bed, he saw his parents. The older him was in tears while holding the hand of his father, who had quite obviously passed away. His mother was sick in the other bed, hanging onto the last thread of life. He, himself, was suffering the aching bones and the hunched stature that came with old age. 

Ah... Siddhartha came to a realization. If the gods had not forced him to see the true nature of life, this is the life he would have led. He would have lived to become a great king, but a king who had no idea what it meant to live life to its fullest potential and to fully understand that to live... is to suffer. 

Author's note: So I was reading about the life of the Buddha this week for the class and I really enjoyed it. In the story, it was told that when the sheltered Siddhartha chose to venture outside of his kingdom to explore, the gods were jealous of his happiness and showed him the three most harsh types of suffering in life: sickness, old age, and death. It was through that experience that Siddhartha left his home and went on a journey to become the Buddha and to learn that everything in life is, in actuality, suffering. I wanted to write a story where Siddhartha was able to see what his life would have been like if he never went through that experience. I wanted to pose the scenery to be similar to what the Scrooge in The Christmas Carol was able to see what happens in the future--kind of like he was looking in on what would happen in a ghost-like yet omnipresent state. And so in the end of this story, Siddhartha realized that either way, he would have had to experienced all the suffering at the same time, but never have the chance or the time to fully process it and become the Buddha. 

Title: The Life of Buddha
Author: Andre Ferdinand Herold
Translator: Paul C. Blum
Year: 1922

Week 7 Storyplanning: Bhishma's Invisibility Cloak

Since Bhishma was granted by the Gods the power to choose the day of his death, it reminded me a lot of "The Tale of the Three Brothers" in Harry Potter. One of the brothers was given an invisibility cloak made from the clothing of Death. It granted the person wearing it everlasting protection from Death and made him invisible from the eyes of all.

I want to write a story where Bhishma was given this cloak by the gods somehow and how Death was about to take his life but failed due to the magic of the cloak. Then when he chose to die, he would take it off and tell Death what had happened. Death would then express regret for ever making it in the first place.

The brother taking off his invisibility cloak and being taken away by Death. 

Source: Tumblr.

More information on Bhishma: 

• also known as Devavrata
• the 8th son of Ganga and Shantanu
• made a pledge of celibacy for his father's happiness
• Bhishma = "One who incites fear"
• He rejected Amba, who then swore to kill him for rejecting her
• I think it would be interesting to write a backstory on Amba, who purposely came back to life (as a man since she exchanged her sex with a demon) to get Bhishma back and fulfill her vow
• He died during the war
• "The next day, confronted by Sikhandi, Bhishma refuses to fight a woman, and he abandons his weapons. Against the rules of war, the Pandavas strike the unarmed warrior with thousands of arrows. There is no space on his body thicker than two fingers that is not pierced. He falls from his chariot, and lies fully supported by the arrows, with no part of his body touching the earth. Bhishma does not actually die until much later, at his choosing. He remains lying on a bed of arrows until the end of the battle.

Sources: 

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by J.K. Rowling. 

The Mahabharata Synopsis by Larry A. Brown

Week 6 Storytelling: Ravana's Revelations

Psychiatrist's office. 

Source: GirlinSilence Blogspot.

Dr. Miller sank into his chair and silently gazed around the room. It was filled with books, large comfy couches, and a small kinetic energy sculpture. His previous patient left a little early and he had a few minutes to spare in order to empty his mind. This was how he worked. His mentor taught him one of the most essential skills a psychiatrist should have: the ability to make his mind become a trash bin for all his patients… but one with a hole at the bottom. After seeing a patient, he simply forgets. He forgets all of the anger, sadness, frustration, etc. Of course, this didn't mean that he didn't care for what they had to say in the moment. He simply just didn't hold on to the feelings after the patient left--to protect his own sanity and happiness. Some people say psychiatrists and psychologists can only empathize with their patients because they are a little insane themselves--but not Dr. Miller.

The telephone rang shortly thereafter to alert Dr. Miller of the arrival of his next patient. He quickly let the secretary allow the new patient in.

A few moments later, Dr. Miller watched as a young man walked into the office. Per usual, he regarded his patient for the first time. The man's name was Ravana, and at first glance, was a generally kind-looking individual with bright eyes and a wide smile. Dr. Miller thought back to all of his patients and remembered a book must not be judged by its cover. Many of his most kind and proper-looking patients were, by far, the most insane of them all.

They began the appointment, as Ravana started speaking.

"Hello, doc."

"Welcome, Ravana. What brings you here today?"

"Well… to start off, I've been having some legal issues come up. It's been taking a toll on me, quite honestly… and I just need someone to talk to other than the voices inside my head."

Dr. Miller paused for a moment and looked slightly bewildered as what Ravana said slowly sank in. Quickly, he regained his composure and continued asking questions.

"Voices, you say? Like your thoughts, you mean?" he inquisited.

"No, not just my thoughts. There are other voices in my head. Nine other ones, to be exact."

Dr. Miller quickly scribbled down schizophrenia on his notepad and continued on.

"Ah, I see. Tell me more about these legal issues and what role your voices have been playing."

"So a little while ago, I met this wonderful woman named Sita while visiting my parents up north. She was really pretty, kind, and an amazing individual. We clicked really well and time flew by so fast when we talked. This was before the other nine voices showed up, you see. I don't really talk to many people and spent a lot of my time alone. So after I returned home from visiting my parents, the voices showed up. They told me that Sita wanted to come visit me for a while. I was confused at first because, somehow, two plane tickets appeared in the mail and I eventually went to bring Sita home with me."

Dr. Miller leaned in closer to have a firmer grasp on the story.

"But Sita wasn't the same. She seemed frightened of me and wouldn't talk. After a week, she left. Then the following day, I was informed that I was getting sued  for kidnapping her and… and… my life is just falling APART," Ravana said as he gasped and started shaking. "The voices told me it was okay! That she had consented to coming with me! I had no malicious intentions… I just wanted a friend. I tried to apologize. I tried to let them know that I wasn't trying to be a bad person. They wouldn't believe me and now I won't get the chance to explain myself."

"Why not?" asked Dr. Miller.

Ravana started to choke up as he began speaking again.

"Doc. Today… is the day I die."

Dr. Miller watched in horror as Ravana pulled out a small vial filled with green liquid. Before Dr. Miller could stop him, Ravana downed the contents of the vial and immediately fell to the floor, shaking uncontrollably.

"Tell them that I'm sorry…" Ravana said with jagged breathing.

***

Whilst Dr. Miller was cleaning his office, his secretary came in to hand him some mail. There was one particularly thick package that caught his eye and he reached for it. There was no return address and when he opened it, there was a letter inside. The letter was written by Ravana. The contents of the letter thanked Dr. Miller for being with Ravana in his last moments and revealed that… Ravana had Stage 4 cancer before he died. 

Author's Note: When I was watching "Sita Sings the Blues" on YouTube, I noticed the narrators mentioned that the only thing that Ravana did wrong was to steal Sita. Even though that was his main fault, the story paints Ravana as a terrible person and readers have no sympathy towards him. In other aspects, he was a rather good rakshasa. Apparently, he even prayed to Shiva all the time too. I really want to write a story from his point of view so that the readers will sympathize with him more. I decided to have a modern setting in a psychiatrist's office where modern Ravana would be able to recount the situation to a third party. My initial story painted him as a criminal, but this time, I changed it up to a poor man who was at the end of his life and just wanted a friend. He ends up killing himself though because of everything that happens... of course he was going to die soon due to his Stage 4 cancer. The psychiatrist was his only way to talk to another person and really open up since I made his personality rather introverted. 

Bibliography: "Ramayana Online: Public Domain Edition" by M. Duct, R. Duct, Gould, Griffith, Hodgson, Mackenzie, Nivedita, Oman, Richardson, Ryder. Website: Indian Epics.

Storytelling: Ravana's Past

When I was watching "Sita Sings the Blues" on YouTube, I noticed the narrators mentioned that the only thing that Ravana did wrong was to steal Sita. Even though that was his main fault, the story paints Ravana as a terrible person and readers have no sympathy towards him. In other aspects, he was a rather good rakshasa. Apparently, he even prayed to Shiva all the time too. I really want to write a story from his point of view so that the readers will sympathize with him more. I think this will give the story more background on Ravana and his motivations because the original story didn't give much of a backstory to him at all.

Idea: I want the setting to be in a counselor's office or something after the Ramayana ends, where he is said to become "pure of heart." Here, he will recount the reasons why he stole Sita and it will be for a reason that others can sympathize with. Maybe have it as how his current wife was an arranged marriage while he wanted to believe in true love instead? Or that instead of him lusting after Sita, he was enraptured by her talent in singing and wanted her to sing for him (for all of time)?

Research:

• Ravana was a half-Brahmin and half-demon
• His name means "one who screams" because he lets out blood-curdling screams when in agony
• He was a stupendous fighter and an expert in astrology
• He sought immortality and sought thousands of years of penance
• He acquired a boon from Lord Brahma in that no god or demon could ever kill him
• He is a devotee of Lord Shiva
• he cut one of his heads off every year to show his devotion to Shiva
• shiva later accepted his devotion when all except one of his heads was cut off

Sources: https://wiralfeed.wordpress.com/2015/11/08/facts-about-ravana/

Digital drawing of Ravana.

Source: WiralFeed Blogspot.

Week 3 Storytelling: Enchanting Encounter

A gentle breeze passed through the dark meadows and all was still. It was a tense kind of stillness, one akin to the calm before a storm...

~~~

It was another day at war for General Rama. His enemies were simple foes. And so, he was physically at ease. Yet at the same time, never one has he ever let his guard down. As the youngest commander-in-chief in history, he has led his army through hundreds of battles and has not lost a single war--the people called him the God of War. However, in some ways, he did not believe himself to be the so-called God of War. Such a title meant nothing to him. He only believed that every muscle and fiber of his body was meant to be sacrificed on the battlefield, for the good of his people, his country, and above all, his king.

"Soldiers of the Deva army! Heed my call! Today, we will fight back against the evil Asura nation. We will take back what is ours and fight. FIGHT to protect our people from the claws of these evil beings," he boomed to his ten-thousand men army. "Place your trust and faith in me, as I have put mine in yours!" he bellowed as he rode off on his majestic steed in the direction of the enemy.

Suddenly, like a horrible and too-realistic game of whack-a-mole, multiple flashes of lightning struck the ground and killed many of his men. He whirled around to see many of his men injured.

How could this be so? Lightning never strikes the same place twice and yet, here, this has happened. 

Squinting, he looked in the direction of the enemy to see a lone carriage coming to a stop in front of the walls dividing the two armies. Through the veil, he could see the silhouette of... strangely... a woman's figure. Thinking this must be purely a poorly executed decoy, he strode on towards the carriage. Without hesitation or any fear for his own well-being, he approached the carriage and lifted the curtain of the carriage to behold a heart-stopping sight. At that moment, he felt the blood in his body rush through at an alarming rate. His vision blurred and a slight lightheadedness overcame him.

Inside, sat a beautiful, young human woman staring back at him defiantly with piercing obsidian eyes. Upon looking at her, he felt his blood come even more alive. However, it was more than just lust. It was a feeling of deep love, attraction, and... saudade. A feeling of sad and lonely longing, which he has never experienced before. Somehow, it felt as if he had known her for eons. That she was meant for him, and he, her. Yet, how could it be? A woman he has never seen in his life was making him weak at the knees. Rama wasn't much of a romantic man and although many women coveted him for his looks and fame, he paid them no attention due to their superficiality. Women were simply just chattering baby birds and overly engrossed in their own ridiculous problems. The sheer number of times he had to come running to console his shrill young cousins, and because of what? A mere bug that had the misfortune to cross their paths.

She suddenly broke his silent reverie.

"Are you the great general they call Rama?" she inquired. She had a marvelous voice. One that would pass through the ears sweetly and smoothly, like silk.

"Yes," said he, "and what is a young human girl doing amidst a war and serving the Rakshasa?"

Ignoring his question, she proceeded to speak with fiery ambition in her eyes. "I want to request a ceasefire, general. My master, the great demon king, Ravana, is giving you one last chance to retreat before he destroys the rest of your pitiful army," she said.

Rama was instantly taken aback. What is a girl doing demanding a cease fire from me and fighting for the demons? Who knew the king would stoop to such low tactics to sway me? His mind immediately said no, but his heart defiantly said it would do anything to appease this young woman. Never has such a woman affect him so... Perhaps she was the only one who ever will.

Coming to an internal impasse, Rama decided to do something he would never imagine to do in his life. With a deep breath, he said "I will declare a ceasefire. However, there is one condition: since you have pulled out my heart and taken it as your own, I want you to come with me. I will leave my post as commander-in-chief and never attempt to destroy the Asura nation if you come with me and be my bride."

She looked at him in utter confusion. The confusion turned into comprehension and slowly, a look of acceptance settled into her eyes. It was at that point that Rama looked a bit closer at her clothes. They were dirty and tattered. Her hands were callused and her feet were marked with scars. Rama realized that she probably never had the chance to experience kindness nor genuineness, yet she was fiercely loyal to her master. Perhaps she thought of him as an insane, lustful man. Yet, the acceptance in her eyes showed that she had no other choice. She agreed to his request and leapt onto his horse, silently and with sad eyes. It was then that Rama made a vow to her under the moonlight.

In a soft and tender voice, "Do not fear, miss. I am not a dangerous man and never will I raise a hand against you. My heart simply yearns for you and your heart," he said. He saw her relax and look away shyly.

"I have forsaken my career and my future to be with you. I should at least know your name. So, Miss, what is your name?" asked Rama. When she refused to answer, he said "How about I call you Rama?"

"My name is Sita!" she quickly said. She looked away as Rama noticed the evidence of a blush creep up her face.

Surely, she had felt the same intense attraction towards him...

~~~

Image of Rama and Sita sitting together.

Source: DollsofIndia.

Author's Note:
My story is a very loose spin-off of the scene where Sita and Rama encounter each other. In the original tale, it was said that the two fell in love with each other immediately as soon as they set their eyes on each other, and I found that it was romantic.  I wanted to rewrite this kind of intense "first love" meeting with a different setting. Since Rama was a well-respected man around to his people and a great warrior, I made him the God of War in my story and a handsome, famed General. I also wanted to give the reader insight into the character's mind. Originally, I wanted to make it both from Sita's and Rama's perspective, but that would have made for an extremely long story, so I just kept it solely on Rama. Yet at the same time, we got a little bit of Sita's feelings in there too. In addition, I didn't like that Ravana basically kidnapped Sita in the original story, so I made it seem as if she was already a maidservant in his court that he simply used as a pawn. This story was a little hybrid between the Ramayana and a Chinese TV drama I have been watching recently called "General and I" which has a similar backstory, but not exactly the same. I happened to combine something I currently loved into my writing and I found that it made me even more creative than I normally feel most of the time. 

Bibliography: "Ramayana Online: Public Domain Edition" by M. Duct, R. Duct, Gould, Griffith, Hodgson, Mackenzie, Nivedita, Oman, Richardson, Ryder. Website: Indian Epics.

Week 2 Storyplanning: Enchanting Encounter

Source & Research : I would like to write about the story of Rama and Sita and their encounter. Sita, also known as Siya, Vaidehi, or Janaki, is the central female character in the Ramayana. She is a princess and a daughter of the King Janaka of Videha. Her mother is queen Sunaina. She is the avatar of Lakshmi, the goddess of wealth and wife of Vishnu. Her consort (what they call the wife or husband of a royal) is Rama, who is the avatar of Vishnu. She is known to be pure, dedicated, and courageous. She followed Rama to exile. When Sita reached adulthood, Janaka organizes a Swayamvara for her with the condition that her husband would be able to string Panaka (the bow of the god Shiva) to find the best husband for her. Rama wins her hand in marriage by fastening the string tightly and then breaking the bow. Rama was born into privilege and wealth to the King Dasaratha. He was known for his virtues and purity of character.

Styles: I think a poem would be really fun to write but I am not sure how that will go along with a lot of internal dialogue yet. Another style that would be hilarious would be an epic rap battle between Sita and Rama haha. But I would have them diss each other so more tough love instead of romantic love would be displayed. Diary style would be interesting too because that's where I can divulge their deepest secrets.

Character Sketches: I really want to write this story as a "love at first sight" story or as a poem from either Rama or Sita's point of view. From the reading, we already get the gist that Rama fell in love with Sita upon seeing her, but what of Sita so I am leaning more towards Sita's point of view here. I think it will be more of personal dialogue in terms of how I will show their motivations.

Image of Rama and Sita sitting together.

Source: DollsofIndia.

Bibliography:

"Ramayana Online: Public Domain Edition" by M. Duct, R. Duct, Gould, Griffith, Hodgson, Mackenzie, Nivedita, Oman, Richardson, Ryder. Website: Indian Epics.

"Sita" on Wikipedia. Website: Wiki.

"Rama" on Wikipedia. Website: Wiki.

Week 1 Story: Love Your Mother, Hinny

Photo of a mother kissing her baby.

"Mother Kissing Her Baby" by Larisa Okhtienko, April 2014. Source: Flickr.

LOVE your own, kiss your own,

Love your own mother, hinny,

For if she was dead and gone,

You'd ne'er get such another, hinny.

~~

“Learn to pick up after yourself! Once you’re in college, no one will baby you as much as I do!”

There she goes again… I can’t wait until I’m out of here… Just four more months, thought Mark. With a slight groan, Mark quietly told his friend Joshua about how annoying his mother was and that he had to go before she comes at him with a wet towel. Instead of being his usual cheery self, Joshua suddenly got very quiet. As Mark hung up the phone, he was slightly confused. Why was Joshua so sensitive when it came to mothers? They were constant nuisances and anyone can attest to that. All they do is nag, nag, nag all day and talk about how “you’ll never be good enough.” Forget about it. He probably just lost another game of League. 

The next day, he met with Joshua for lunch and it seemed Joshua was still bothered by this comments about his mother. In an effort to resolve the tense atmosphere, Mark decided to ask him what the issue was. After a moment of silence, Joshua finally spoke up. 

“My mom died yesterday,” he said. Mark took a deep breath. He didn’t know what to say in this situation. He was one of the lucky few that did not have to experience death yet.

“I didn’t want to tell anyone outside of my family because it’s still extremely difficult for me to talk about,” continued Joshua. “When I woke up this morning, I got up and waited for her to burst into my room… To tell me breakfast was ready and to get my lazy bum off the bed and wash up. But… she wasn’t there. All I heard was the sound of my own beating heart as I cried to myself and realized that I was never going to see her again. I’m no longer going to get to chance to tell her how my day went or what I plan on doing with the rest of my life after high school… or tell her that I finally got accepted into Stanford today.” 

Tears were streaming down Joshua’s face at this point and Mark was left speechless. Joshua was always calm and collected no matter what the situation, and to see his friend in such a state, Mark was frozen with uncertainty in how to respond. 

“I don’t mean to antagonize you for complaining about your mom, but you’re one of my best friends and I want to make you realize that your mother is human too and she loves you more than anyone ever will. Those times when you roll your eyes at her or make negative comments about her, you’re just hurting her feelings. She will always want the best for you, even though she will sometimes express it in odd ways. Blood is thicker than water, so try to listen to her and cherish the time you have together because once she’s gone, you’ll never get another,” said Joshua as he wiped his eyes with a tear-stained napkin. 

Joshua’s words had an enormous impact on Mark. As soon as he arrived at his home, he went looking for his mother only to realize that she wasn’t home. This is weird, he thought. She said she would be home all day before I left.

Mark checked his phone and finally noticed that he received five missed calls and two text messages from his father. With a heavy sense of dread, he opened to the text messages to find that his mother was at the hospital after a car accident. In a state of panic, Mark rushed to the hospital to find her and prayed that she was going to be all right. Once he arrived and gave the receptionist his mother’s name, the nurse escorted him to her room. At this point, tears began to well up in his eyes as his heart began beating faster the close they got to the room. Please, please let her be okay, he thought. 

The nurse opened the door and he saw his mother on the bed and he let out a yelp. There she was, looking perfectly fine, with a huge smile on her face. The only injury she sustained was a broken leg. With a huge sigh of relief, Mark walked to her side and gave her a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. 

“Wow,” said his mom. “I haven’t gotten a kiss or a hug from you ever since you left elementary school. Maybe I should break a leg more often,” she joked. Mark smiled through his tears and vowed to himself to always treasure his mother and… to give her kisses.

~~

Author's Note: The story was based upon the nursery rhyme "Love your own, kiss your own" quoted after the picture in this post. For this story, I did a complete makeover. I added characters such as Joshua and Mark. I also added in a dramatic element that created tension between the two characters, which ended in a lesson learned by Mark. The lesson was that he should treat his mother better and love her more, just like the nursery rhyme indicates. The image I chose for this story was a picture of a mother kissing her baby instead of a child kissing his or her mother. This is to show that mothers have so much love for their children, but some children don’t see that. I found that I could relate to this nursery rhyme on a very personal level because I love my mom and it's a shame some people don't. I’ve seen instances where children are ungrateful and treat their mothers like nothing at all, even though mothers have to go through nine months of, quite possibly, hard labor just to bring them to this world. I wanted this story to be dramatic because I felt it would have more of an impact on my audience.

Book: The Nursery Rhyme Book

Author: Unknown, edited by Andrew Lang

Year Published: 1897

Book Source: Project Gutenberg