Week 14: The Clever Monkey (Storytelling)

Once, a monkey lived along the shore of a huge river. He would swing from tree to tree along its bank, looking for the best fruits to eat. There was also a small island in the center of the river. To get to the island, the monkey would jump from rock to rock over the river until the island was just a leap away.

Most monkeys were afraid to go to the island.  One, however, was not. This monkey was brave and clever and since he was the only monkey who would venture over the river to the island, he had all of the ripe fruits on the island to himself. He would often go there and feast on the many fruit trees the island possessed.

Still, the monkey wasn’t always happy. From the island, could see even more good fruit trees on the opposite riverbank. But there were no rocks on that side to jump across. Still, he’d often sit on the island and think about one day making it all the way across the river.

One day, he got up early to go to the island. When he got there he ate and sat, looking across the river at the other side. He was startled when he heard a voice down below him.

“Hello, Monkey,” the voice said. When the monkey looked down, he saw a crocodile swimming down below, right along the edge of the island.

“Hello, Crocodile. What brings you to my island?” The monkey asked.

“Well, you have a beautiful island,” the crocodile said, “but the trees over on the far side of the river look even better. I could take you over there if you’d like…you could ride on my back.”

The monkey watched the crocodile cautiously. The monkey was smart and knew that this was probably a trap because crocodiles loved eating monkeys. But he couldn’t help himself. He wanted to try the fruits on the other side of the river.

“Alright,” said the monkey, as he hopped down onto the crocodiles back.

The crocodile swam towards the far riverbank for a while, then suddenly, he dove beneath the water. Money was terrified. He couldn’t swim, so he had to keep holding on to the crocodile who seemed to want to kill him. After a long minute, the crocodile surfaced again, with the monkey clinging to its back.

“What were you doing?” The monkey coughed and shook, trying to dry off.

“Killing you,” said the crocodile. “I want to eat monkey heart for dinner tonight.

The monkey thought quickly, devising a plan. “Well,” he said slowly, “that’s really too bad. You see, I left my heart on the island. If you just would have told me, I would have brought it. Why don’t we go back and fetch it?”

The monkey could see the crocodile thinking, but crocodiles were not known for their intelligence. “Okay,” said the crocodile finally. “We can go back and you can get me your heart.”

The crocodile, with the monkey on its back, swam back to the island. As soon as the crocodile swam close enough, the monkey leapt and scrambled up a tree on the island’s shore.

“You’re very stupid, Crocodile,” the monkey said. “My heart is not on the island and now you can’t reach me.” The crocodile was angry at himself and Monkey for the trickery. But he devised another plan to catch the monkey for dinner.

The crocodile watched as the monkey went back to his feast on the island. The monkey ate all the fruits he could and was about to return back to his side of the river. It was just getting dark. Crocodile swam up, stealthily, and tried to disguise himself as one of the rocks Monkey jumps across to get home.

When monkey got close, he noticed that the rock was higher than it should have been. To see if the crocodile was hiding, the monkey called out, “Oh rock, shall we talk as we always to on my trip home?”

The crocodile, thinking that the monkey and rock were friends, answered, trying to convince the monkey he was a rock. “Of course, as we always do,” the crocodile said, trying to make himself sound like a rock.

“You are the crocodile!” the monkey yelled. “But, I suppose you have trapped me! Why don’t you open your mouth and I’ll climb in?”

The crocodile was giddy with monkey’s surrender. He did as he was asked and opened his mouth wide.

Monkey took this opportunity and jumped over the crocodile’s open mouth and onto his head. As quick as he could, the monkey jumped from the crocodile, to the rocks, then to the shore.

“I have outsmarted you again, Crocodile,” the monkey said.

The crocodile saw that the monkey was once again out of his reach. “Yes,” he said sadly, “you have. I won’t continue pursuit of you, Monkey. You are too hard to catch.”

“Nonetheless,” Monkey replied, “I will always watch out, as you almost ate me twice.” With that the monkey and the crocodile parted ways, they never saw each other again.

Author's Note: The original story was called The Monkey and The Crocodile from the Jatakas Tales (Babbitt) reading unit in the Un-Textbook. The story is about a crocodile and a monkey. The crocodile keep trying to kill the monkey, but the monkey keeps outsmarting the crocodile. 

I kept most of the story the same. I added more background for the monkey, such as him being the only monkey who would venture onto the island. I also condensed the story. Originally it was in two parts and the two parts were weeks apart. I changed them to happen in a singular day, one event right after the other. Besides that, the main events of the story are the same. 

Story Source: Story source: Jataka Tales by Ellen C. Babbitt, illustrated by Ellsworth Young (1912).

Week 13: Racing Monsters (Storytelling)

The mother sat down at the edge of her oldest son’s bed. After an hour of trying to wrangle the two boys, Rico and Ari were finally tucked into bed.

“It’s time for a story, mommy,” Rico said. Ari, who had only just started talking, nodded enthusiastically while arranging his stuffed animals around him.

“Okay,” the boys’ mother said. “What story would you like tonight?”

“The one with the scary one-legged men,” Rico said excitedly and his mother laughed.

“You only want to scare your brother, don’t you?”

“No! Well… not only… it’s my favorite!” Rico shouted. He had nuzzled under his covers, watching and waiting for his mother to start the story.

“Alright.” The mother looked between her two boys; both were watching her expectantly.

“Once, a long, long time ago,” the mother began, “there were creatures called ghormuhas. Now the ghormuhas were fierce and terrifying creatures. They had a human body, except only one leg, and the head of a horse. And what’s worse, they liked to eat people…”

Ari gasped and pulled his stuffed animals closer. Rico smiled and waited for his mother to continue.

“But don’t worry,” the mother reassured her younger son. “The ghormuhas all disappeared a very long time ago. Anyway, one day a young hunter was chasing a deer through the woods. Little did he know, the ghormuhas were following him.”

“To eat him?” Ari asked in a quiet, shrill voice.

“Well, they wanted to,” his mother answered, “but this hunter was clever. So when the ghormuhas caught him, the hunter watched how the monsters treated other humans and planned his escape.”

“You see,” continued the mother, “the monsters liked the humans they ate to be strong. So every day they would run with their human captives. The ghormuhas were fast runners. And they wouldn’t eat the humans until the humans could beat them in a race. Then they knew the humans were big and strong enough.”

“I could beat those monsters,” Rico said. “I’d be so fast. The hunter was fast too, huh?”

The mother nodded. “The hunter was very fast. But he was also smart. When he saw that the ghormuhas only ate the people who won the race, he made sure that he always ran slow enough for the ghormuhas to beat him. He did this for a few days. He would almost beat the monsters, then fall back and let them win.”

“So he didn’t get eaten?” Ari asked. He was hiding behind his stuffed animals, only his face sticking out.

“No.” The mother smiled. “Then, after doing this for a couple days, he knew that he was fast enough to get away from the ghormuhas, so he planned his escape. You see, usually the monsters would race with the humans in an open field, but the hunter had a different plan.”

“This is the best part,” Rico whispered, looking at his little brother.

“The hunter asked if they could race on the mountains the next day. He said that the ghormuhas could have a much prettier view while they ran because there were flowers all around. The monsters thought that was a good idea, so they agreed.”

“And he didn’t get eaten?” Ari whispered again.

“No, he escaped!” Rico shouted impatiently and then nodded to his mother to continue.

The mother said, “The hunter took off as fast as he could through the mountain forest. The monsters tried to catch up, but they tripped over roots and rocks. The hunter didn’t stop running until he reached his village.”

“And then he told everyone about the monsters,” Rico said.

“He did,” the mother said. “And after that, everyone knew how to beat the ghormuhas and not get eaten. Soon after, the monsters disappeared. And now, we can all safely travel through the forests and the fields without having to worry about being eaten by the ghormuhas.”

“The end,” Rico said, nodding in approval.

“The end,” the mother echoed. “Now both of you boys get some sleep.” She kissed both of her children on the forehead. Rico smiled and buried his face in the blankets. Ari looked a little worried but his eyelids were already drooping.

“And he didn’t get eaten,” Ari whispered one more time.

“No, he didn’t get eaten,” the mother confirmed before shutting off the light and leaving her sons to their slumber.

Gorumara National Park in India. Wikimedia

Author's Note: the original story was called The Ghormuhas from the Santal Folktales unit of the Un-Textbook. The original story was about a group of monsters who ate humans and looked the same as described in my story, and a hunter who outsmarted them to escape.

These monsters did many horrible things, including smoking, fattening, and eating humans, but they would also arrange their parents' deaths and eat them once they died as well. This hunter understands what the monsters are doing by feeding them a lot and constantly making them run, so he always stays slow enough to not get eaten. Finally, when he hears they are about to eat him anyway, he runs so fast that the monsters can't keep up and he goes back through the forest to his village where he tells everyone about the ghormuhas. 

I decided to tell this story as a bedtime story to a couple of boys. I changed a couple of things in the story. I didn't include any of the more gory details about the ghormuhas preparing or how they eat the humans and their parents. I included more about the races, because the story didn't go into much detail, but I thought it was weird that while the monsters could catch other people that beat them, they couldn't catch the hunter, so I had him change the setting of the race. I also changed the ending so that the monsters disappear because the hunter warns everyone about the ghormuhas and the monsters can no longer survive.

Story source:Folklore of the Santal Parganas by Cecil Henry Bompas (1909).

Week 11: Two Travelers and a Dare (Storytelling)

“Let’s stop here for a rest,” Salem said. He and his friend Ganem were far away from home, traveling to find work and wealth.

This place had trees dotted around, offering shade from the high sun. A fast running stream was to their left with plenty of fresh, cool water. The thick, green grass gave a comfortable place for the two men to rest before they resumed their journey.

After they sat, Salem went to work pulling food out of their bags. Ganem took some bowls and went to the stream. Not long after, Ganem returned without the water.

“You’ll never guess what I found, Salem.” His eyes danced and he kept fidgeting, unable to contain his glee.

Salem watched his friend calmly. “Obviously not water. What happened?” The men had often been through this routine together. Ganem was easily excited and always came up with great schemes to get them rich. Well, Ganem always thought they were great schemes. So far, none of his hundreds of ideas have become anything. Salem on the other hand was much more practical and rarely got as excited as his friend.

Ganem shouted, “You’re going to love this! There was some writing on a boulder by the river. It said that there is a city on top of that mountain,” Ganem pointed to the closest mountain on the other side of the stream. “And there is wealth and food and whatever else we want there.”

Salem looked at his friend skeptically. “There are not towns or even villages on the map, Ganem. The closest thing is a farm a few miles from here. And even if there was a city, I don’t think they just let anyone come up and take their wealth.”

“Of course they wouldn’t give it to just anyone.” Ganem rolled his eyes at Salem’s hesitation. Salem was always too cautious with new adventures. “There are tests you have to go through. You have to swim through the stream, then pick up a lion statue, then run up the mountain with the lion statue. They want you to prove your bravery and strength.”

Salem raised his eyebrows. “First of all,” he said, “that river has a fast current. If you didn’t die, you’d be lucky. And I saw that lion statue when we were getting settled. It’s huge. There’s no way you could carry that thing up a mountain. It’s probably a prank. If there was some huge wealthy city, I think it’d be on the map and those tasks just sound deadly. That would be stupid, not brave.”

Ganem quit pacing and looked between his friend and the stream. “Fine,” he said. “You don’t have to do it, but I am. I’m going to find that city and become rich.”

With that, Ganem strode purposefully towards the stream, Salem close at his heels. When they approached, Ganem took off his shirt and jumped in. Salem watched anxiously as his friend struggled in the current. As he had said, the current kept pulling Ganem under and downstream.

Salem grabbed a rope from his bag, ready in case Ganem called out. He followed along on the bank as his friend continued. Almost half an hour later, Ganem crawled, exhausted, onto the other bank. He shook and coughed up water.

After resting enough to stand up, he slowly trudged back towards the lion. Ganem was already weak from his fight across the river, but even on his best day, the lion was impossibly heavy. The statue barely budged when he tried to scoot it, much less pick it up.

In defeat and exhaustion, he sat up against the lion statue. He could feel Salem watching him from the other side.

“Okay,” he called. “You were right! But I can’t make it back across the river.”

“When you’ve rested up, I’ll throw you the rope and help pull you across.” The men sat on opposite bands for hours before Ganem was finally ready. When they were both together again, they continued on their journey, slower than before as Ganem was still exhausted.

That evening they reached the nearby farm. The farmer invited the travelers to stay for dinner. Salem asked about the inscription on the boulder up stream and the farmer laughed.

“Oh, that was my boy,” he said lightly. “He just got good at writing and he wrote that yesterday. I figured it wasn’t a big deal; it’ll wear off with the first rainstorm. And who would actually think they could swim across a stream like that and pick up a huge statue?”

Salem smiled a little and glanced at his friend who did not find the child’s prank amusing.

Stone Lion Statue. Pixabay

Author's Note: This story was from the Bidpai Fables unit of the Un-Textbook. The original story was called the Two Travelers.

The original story was about two travelers who come across an inscription by a stream. The inscription tells them to do seemingly impossible tasks and if they do, they will be given all the wealth they could want. One man thinks it's a joke, because the tasks are so impossible, and he leaves. But the other thinks it's a test for bravery, and he sets upon doing he tasks. The tasks he must accomplish are swimming across a fast stream, carrying a stone lion up a mountain through thorns and wild animals until he reaches the top. He accomplishes the task and is made king of the city atop the mountain. 

While I was reading this story, I thought the moral could have gone one of two ways: brave men get money and glory and wealth, or practical men don't die. I figured, based on the stories and epics we read, that the moral would be the first. However, if I came across this same situation, I would have responded the same way as the man saying it was impossible, so I decided to switch the morals of the story to where that man ended up being right. 

So I changed the end of the story by having the brave man unable to perform the tasks and changed it to where the inscription was a prank by a child. I also had the man who didn't try the tasks stay with his friend and in the end help him back across after he almost dies in the river the first time. 

Story source: The Tortoise and the Geese and Other Fables of Bidpai by Maude Barrows Dutton, with illustrations by E. Boyd Smith, 1908.

Week 9: Fire Escape (Storytelling)

I had been quietly watching my sons since we began our quest for this “House of Joy”. That was what the King had named our retreat home, the most ridiculous title he’s came up with to date. The way he rushed all of my sons and I out was strange, especially since he had just named my eldest son, Yudhistira, the heir to his throne.

I walked near the front of our group with Yudhistira and one of the kingdom’s advisors, Vidura. We walked in tense silence, lost in our own thoughts as the younger brothers chatted merrily behind us. Yudhistira seemed suspicious of the king's intentions as well.

Vidura walked with us until we were over halfway through our journey. All of the other elders and advisors turned back hours ago.

In hushed tones, Vidura began speaking to Yudhistira. He spoke of enemies and weapons not made of steel. Then even quieter, Vidura whispered about wood and straw, followed by jackals, earth, and stars. His words were unintelligible to me, but Yudhistira listened intently.

Before Vidura left to return to the king, Yudhistira nodded and said he understood. Well at least someone did.

After thinking about the strange encounter I had witnessed I approached my son. “Yudhistira,” I whispered, “What were you and Vidura saying? I couldn’t understand a word of it.”

Yudhistira glanced around nervously. He relaxed again when he saw our servants were paying us no mind and his brothers continued their chatting and games a safe distance behind us. “I’ll explain later. But I fear in the next couple of days it will all become clear.”

I let the topic drop as we continued on our journey.

***

It wasn’t long after when we arrived at our destination, Varanavata. The crowds cheered at the sights of their princes. I smiled as I watched Yudhistira greet some of the elders with a wide smile. He looked so grand, so official, and rightly so. Someday my son would be King.

When arrived at the Joy House, his smile instantly disappeared. The home was spacious, plenty of room for my five sons and myself. There was an unusual smell but I didn’t think much about it. The architect of the home, Purochana, showed us around and helped us get settled.

I couldn’t focus on anything but Yudhistira’s dark expression as he inspected the house and watched Purochana suspiciously. As soon as the architect was gone, Yudhistira pulled me aside.

“I thought I was just paranoid,” he said, “but I fear I’m not. Mother, we are in danger here.” Yudhistira then began to tell me about the message from Vidura and what he noticed in the Joy House.

Short version: the king was scared and wanted my sons and I out of the picture. Yudhistira had been warned by Vidura that the king planned for Purochana to set fire to the Joy House one night while we were sleeping. The walls of the home were filled with straw and oil which would easily go up in flames.

I had worried about the king’s intentions but never had I thought he would try to have me and his nephews killed. Yudhistira obviously saw the panic in my face as he quickly continued. “We have a plan,” he whispered. “A man is going to come and build a tunnel for us to escape in. It will make it appear as though the king succeeded but we will be free. But we must not let Purochana know. We have to act as though nothing is wrong.”

I nodded and Yudhistira left me to give the information to his brothers. It would take all of us to keep the plan secret. And keeping it secret was the only way we would survive this trip.

***

For more than a week after, a man snuck into the Joy House. In the room furthest from Purochana’s he dug a hole and a tunnel from there. That would be our escape route when the time came. As the date approached, Yudhistira became more and more anxious as he tried to figure out how to keep Purochana from discovering our planned escape.

Yudhistira’s solution was we act sooner and dramatically. He instructed me to throw a huge dinner feast for as many people as we could fit into the Joy House. My sons kept Purochana drinking, hoping he would be oblivious enough not wake until we were gone tonight.

After everyone went home and Purochana was asleep, we made our way down to steep steps into the tunnel. I was behind my three youngest boys. Above me I heard the urgent whispering of Yudhistira and the second oldest, Bhima. 

Bhima had a torch in his hand and Yudhistira was watching him and pointing around the house. I had frozen on the stairs. Within a minute, the smoke was nauseating and the fire crackled all around. Yudhistira and Bhima both came rushing down the stairs, sealing the hole above us.

“Mother,” Bhima said, “you should have kept going.” They hurried me down the tunnel where the younger boys were waiting.

“There’s a boat,” Yudhistira said, “at the end. Vidura arranged it. It will take us somewhere safe.” We continued making our way down the tunnel, the smell of smoke clinging to the three of us even as we left the blazing fire behind.

Pandavas Escape the Fire. Wikimedia

Author's Note: For this week's storytelling assignment, I wrote about the Pandavas and their mother when they were sent away and their uncle, the King Dhritarashtra, sends them away under the guise of having them enjoy a festival but really tries to have them quietly killed. The King's plan was to house the brothers and their mother in a home made of straw and oil and then have someone set a fire in the dead of night. The boys found out about the plot and with the help an adviser, Vidura, they escaped and temporarily faked their own deaths.

I wrote my story in Kunthi's perspective, who was the mother of the Pandavas. I kept most of the story the same but added some details particularly because of Kunthi's perspective as she watches her sons deal with the threat and find a way to escape.

Story Source: Narayan, R. K. (1978). The Mahabharata.

Week 5: Maricha's Choice (Storytelling)

I sat quietly on a rock in the middle of the forest. I meditated like this every day now…every day since I fought Rama all those years ago. 

One of the first heroic acts that Rama accomplished was fighting my family. He killed my mother and brother. I barely escaped with my life. After that encounter, I decided that a life of destroying the earth and tormenting of the sages was just not worth the cost. I now live alone in the forest. It was a much more peaceful life than most rakshasas had.

The morning was perfect for meditation. Sunlight filtered through the tree leaves. A stream near by trickled and splashed. I breathed slowly, taking in the tranquility of my surroundings.Birds sang around me and I was overcome by peace.

But the feeling was soon shattered when the birds all went silent and the chill of a shadow loomed above me.

I opened my eyes to discover what had changed my serene environment. A chariot had just landed nearby and my nephew was climbing out of it.

Ravana  walked towards the rock where I sat. I didn't move but watched as he slowly approached. “Uncle,” he said, as he looked over me, “are you doing alright?” I’m sure I looked strange to him, wearing all black deerskin and sitting calmly in the forest. He hadn't visited often since I chose my life of peace.

“Ravana, just tell me what you want,” I said, and began taking deep breaths. I could feel myself getting anxious under the king’s scrutiny.

“A girl,” he answered. “Sita. I think you've heard of her…” I didn’t answer. “She’s the wife of-”

“I know who she is married to! Don’t say his name around me!” I yelled. Then I shut my eyes and focused on calming my heart-rate again. However, Ravana grew impatient.

“Fine," he snapped. "You-know-who has slain armies of our people. He and his brother disfigured my sister. And I want Sita.”

“He let me live once,” I said. “He could have killed me but he let me run. And now I live a life of peace, Ravana. I can’t help you. What you want is foolish. If you keep going, it will be the end of all of us. You’ll lose everything for the sake of one girl who will never accept you.”

My nephew scoffed at me. “I won’t lose. You do realize who you’re talking to, right? I've defeated gods. One man won’t stand in the way of what I want. I’ll steal Sita away and he won’t even know what happened.”

“You sound like a fool. It won’t work. You will die along with everyone else who stands with you. And that won’t include me. I’m not stupid enough to go against him again. If that's all you came here to ask you should just leave me.”

I watched my nephew as a cruel smile spread across his face. “I was afraid you’d say that, Uncle Maricha. I tried to give you a chance and you just wouldn't take it. But you will help me.”

“No,” I said, growing more anxious by the minute. “I’m at peace, Ravana. Leave me be. If I helped you, I’d be dead within a day.”

“If you don’t, you’ll be dead sooner,” he said coldly. “You help me, or I kill you. You will have a chance to escape Rama again if you help but you will die for sure if you refuse. Which will you have? Shall I end you now?”

I watched my cruel, violent nephew analyze my every twitch while I considered his offer. Despite what he said, I knew either way I’d be dead before the sun set this evening. But I suppose I’d rather be killed by Rama, a good, heroic man, than my villainous nephew.

“Fine,” I said slowly, “tell me what to do.” Ravana smiled and I followed him into his chariot as he began talking about the beauty of a golden deer. 

Events at Panchavati Forest. Wikimedia

Author's Note: I chose this story because of I loved all of Maricha's background and life story. Maricha is probably my favorite rakshasa to learn about because of his change from evil and destructive to a calm and secluded lifestyle until Ravana forces him into service. Of all the villains Rama faces in his quests, I feel like Maricha is one of the most innocent even though he helps Ravana kidnap Sita. Of course, Rama doesn't know this because he is unaware of Ravana's threat to Maricha.

After Rama killed Maricha's mother, Tataka, and brother, Subahu, Maricha ran away and swore he would stop his violent tendencies and devote himself to peace and calmness. This part of the original story caught my attention because it seems like most characters in Maricha's situation vow for vengeance and become more evil. However, Maricha tries to make a better life for himself. For years Maricha succeeds until his nephew, Ravana, the King of the rakshasas, comes to Maricha with an ultimatum.

For my story, I kept the beginning and the end the same. I added some information about Maricha's peaceful lifestyle. I also didn't keep any of the dialogue between Ravana and Maricha the same, particularly because they talk for a while. I tried kept the overall feel and message that each character portrayed true to the original. The biggest change was putting the story into Maricha's point of view. 

I thought this made for an good but tragic story because after all his work to change his life, this scene undoes everything he's worked for and effectively signs his death warrant no matter what he chooses. 

Bibliography: Buck, William (1976). Ramayana: King Rama's Way. 

Week 7: A Ghost Took Over My Life (Storytelling)

I stood before a group of cow herders. One sat in a rickety chair, while the others stood in a semi-circle behind him. To my right stood a man who looked identical to me, behind us stood my mother and wife, the two people this man stole from me.

“Neat-Herd King,” I addressed the young man sitting in the chair, “this man has stolen my life and claims to be me. If I tell you what happened, will you decide which of us is the true Brahman and end this madness?”

“I will,” he said. “Please, tell your story.”

Illustration by Warwick Goble from Folk-Tales of Bengal 

And so I began:

Have you ever gone away for a few years and come back to find a ghost living your life? I’m gonna guess you haven’t. Well, I've lived this nightmare and now I want my family back. But let me start from the beginning, just so you know I’m the real Brahman.

I was poor and couldn't support my wife and mother on the money I had. So I decided to travel to a distant land to work and earn enough money for us to live off. I knew I’d be gone for a while and I told my wife and mother this.

Leaving them was the hardest thing I've ever had to do, but I knew that without money we wouldn't survive. So I hugged my mother and kissed my wife and set off on the great journey. I worked for years, saving everything I made. Finally, I knew I had enough money to give my family a comfortable life.

When I returned, I was so excited to see my wife and mother. I couldn't wait to show them the money I had made and buy them new clothes and the best food. But things did not go as I planned. I came back, and there was a man inside the house…a man who looked exactly like me.

I was looking at a living reflection of myself who had lived with my family the years I was away. I was shocked and couldn't understand what happened.

“What are you doing here? This is my house!” I shouted at the man.

He looked me over and smirked, just a little. “No,” he said. “This is my house. This is my wife and this is my mother. I've lived here for years and now you just come here and claim it all for yourself? No. This is my family.”

I stared at the imposter who had taken over my life. After years of hard work, I come to find my life is being lived by someone else. I decided to bring the matter before the King of our kingdom. If anyone could discover the truth and give me my life back it was him.

Of course, the King was just as vexed as I. When I brought the look-alike to court to plead my case, he simply stared between the two of us, not knowing what to do. Finally he said he’d decide tomorrow. And then he said the next day, and then next.

As I was leaving the King’s court one day, a herdsman called me over. He said the Neat-Herd King would decide the case if the real King said it was all right. When I asked the King, he eagerly gave the responsibility over to the cow herder.

*** 

“And now, I am here, pleading my case to you, Neat-Herd King,” I said, watching the Cow Herder King look between the imposter and me.

“Well,” the herder said as he stood from his chair. He grabbed a small bottle from one of the men behind him. “This is what we’ll do. Whoever can get inside this bottle will be the man who keeps the home, wife, and mother.”

I stared at the cow herder incredulously. “What do you mean!?” I shouted. “It’s impossible! Even a herder should know that!”

The imposter jumped at his opportunity. “Of course I can do that,” he said. Before I could blink, the man transformed from my double into a small bug and flew into the bottle.

I was about to despair. I thought this cow herder was going to give this fake my family  for flying in a bottle. But the Neat-Herd King quickly took a cap and sealed the bottle.

“Of course it’s impossible,” the Herder King said, “at least for a real human.” He smiled at me and gestured to my wife and mother. “This is your real son and husband. The other was a ghost who tricked you. It happened to me once before.” The Herder King handed me the bottle, which held the small bug the ghost had transformed into. “He can’t escape as long as you keep the bottle sealed,” the Neat-Herd King said.

I took the bottle from him and nodded. “Thank you. I doubted you, but you are true and clever.” With the bottle in one hand, I rejoined my family who began crying and hugging me. Finally life could go back to normal.

***

Author's Note: My retelling this week is from the Bengal Folktales reading unit. The original story was called The Ghost Brahman.

The first thing I would like to make sure is clear is that in the story, "Neat-Herd King" is the king or leader of Cow Herders.

The was about a man who went to work in a distant land to earn money for his wife, mother, and himself to live comfortably. However, the day he left, a ghost took his form and convinced the wife and mother that he had decided to stay, thus taking over the Brahman's life. The Brahman returns, rich and ready to be home, only to find that someone who looks identical to him is living his life. He tries to make the ghost leave, but the ghost continues to insist he is the real Brahman. The man then asks the King for help but the King is confused and doesn't know what to do, so he continues putting off the decision. Finally, the Brahman asks for the help of the leader of the cow herders, who tricks the ghost into a small vial and seals it. The Brahman then gets his life back with the ghost successfully locked away. 

For my story, I focused on when the Brahman was trying to convince the Neat-Herd King of his identity and the actions of the Herder King afterwards. I thought the way the herder tricked the ghost was clever and I loved that in the end the lowly cow herder was the one to discover the truth and give the Brahman his life back.

I didn't change much in the story. I did add that the Neat-Herd King had dealt with similar ghosts before because I thought that would better explain how he decided to trick the ghost.

Story source:Folk-Tales of Bengal by the Rev. Lal Behari Day, with illustrations by Warwick Goble (1912).

Week 4: The Boy in the Forest (Storytelling)

I watched as Dasaratha slept. His wife, Kausalya, sat nearby. The old king shifted and tensed in his sleep. I knew he was remembering me.  The night that ended with him burning the bodies of my parents and me.

I wished, for his sake, that he didn’t have to go through losing a son. I had seen what it did to my parents. When he killed me, it had been an accident. But Rama’s exile was not one. Kaikeyi’s spite and fear had poisoned her husband’s spirit. He would be dead by morning.

I thought back to that night, so many decades before. When the king was a prince and I was just a child. That night contained many mixed memories for me. Obviously, my death and watching my parents mourn and die was not a happy occasion. However, when Indra welcomed me into the Heaven of Warriors, well that was an amazing. It wasn’t long before my parents joined me, with their eyes and bodies repaired.  I thanked Dasaratha for that every day. He could have left my parents to die slowly, wondering what had become of me. But he was a good man, one who made a mistake but tried to fix it as best he could.

Everything had changed so suddenly that night. It had been a normal day. My mother wanted water before bed. I usually don’t like going out at night, but the sun had just set and the river wasn’t far. I’d taken our water jar, and after kissing my mother and father, I promised to return shortly, I left my home for the last time. After a short walk, I knelt down and dipped the jar into the river. Branches crunched to my left and I began to stand, turning towards the sound. Before I was upright, I saw something flying at me and felt the pain through my chest. Next thing I knew I was lying in the dirt, looking up at the stars.

“Who has killed me!?” I cried out, answered only by silence. Then footsteps began coming towards me. In the moonlight stood the prince, Dasaratha, looking pale and shaking.

He stared for a moment, as his face turned a sickly shade of green and tears filled his eyes. He didn’t speak, but stood, staring at what he had done to me. “Prince Dasaratha, have I wronged you in some way that made you want me dead? My parents will now die too. They are blind and sick, unable to move. They have never hurt anyone. Take out the arrow you have killed me with.” Even as I spoke I could feel my life slipping away.

The prince approached me, leaning down to examine the wound. I couldn’t see it, but I knew it was bad. “If I take it out,” he said slowly, “You will die. I’ll leave it in and go find a doctor.”

He began to stand but I grabbed his wrist with the last of my strength. “I’m not afraid of death. I don’t curse you, it was an accident. But please release me. It’s too painful.” Dasaratha did as I asked and pulled out the arrow.

 Soon I was soaring to heaven, being welcomed by Indra. “Child,” the god said, “You have died a warrior’s death.  Come and rest now.” I watched as the prince found my parents, told them what he’d done and carried them to my body. They saw me in the sky one last time before they died as well.

I knew that Dasaratha’s mistake would cost him dearly. That’s how everything works. You get returned what you give. But as I watch him wake and tell Kausalya my story, it feels unfair that a mistake would be answered by maliciously exiling the son he loved so dearly.

Dasharatha and the Blind Boy's Family. Wikimedia.

Author's Note: I kept the story mostly the same, but changed it to the perspective to that of the boy, watching from heaven as Dasaratha lost Rama and remembered that night in the forest. Besides the point of view change, most of the original story was kept the same, with only some wording differences. I decided to expand beyond just the actual event when Dasaratha accidentally kills the boy to connect it to Rama's exile and Dasaratha's reaction. Because the boy and the parents were so understanding of Dasaratha's mistake, I thought that when the karma came back to Dasaratha, the boy and his parents would be sympathetic to Dasaratha's situation.

One reason I decided to use this story was because I thought the part in the story when Dasaratha sees the boy's soul's path going to heaven and being accepted into the heaven of heroes was a really cool touch to the story. I also chose this story because it is a great example of how karma works in Indian tradition. Lastly, it also explains Dasaratha's behavior after Rama is exiled, which in Naryayan's story, without the inclusion of the sotry of the Boy in the Forest, seemed a little overly dramatic.

Bibiography: Buck, William (1976). Ramayana: King Rama's Way. P. 105-109

Week 3: Threatening the Sea (Storytelling)

So, let me tell you about my one encounter with the great and powerful Rama.  At first, when I heard Rama was coming to cross my sea, I was so excited to meet him. I would keep my waves calm as he sailed over. I assumed he brought ships for his army to take across the sea.

Little did I know, he had no ship and was in a terrible mood. I mean, I understand that losing Sita upset him. Also, he had been fasting for a couple days so he was probably very hungry. But it was impossible to have a normal conversation with him.

So, he summoned me, Varuna, the god of the sea between his shore and Lanka. I appeared to him immediately, excited for the chance to meet Rama and to help him defeat Ravana. I was ready to discuss ideas with Rama when he said, “Make way for my armies.”

For a second I just stared at him as I tried to decide what to say. I mean, he had to put some effort into it. I couldn't just move all this water. So I said to Rama, still trying to be patient and helpful, “I am as much subject to the laws of nature as other elements. What can I do?” Now, I thought Rama would realize his mistake and understand that I did not have unlimited power to help him.

Before I knew what happened, Rama’s face turned red and he began shouting at me. No one ever treated me that poorly in my entire life. His unintelligible shouts and curses cut through air.  I even heard him threaten to shoot me with his arrows and evaporate my water.

I stared at him in shock. What could I possibly do to make my water move for him? Unlike the Red Sea, I couldn’t just part and return to normal at the will of a staff. Moses was such a show off. I had much more water in me than the Red Sea. I also had the fish to consider. They hated being bunched up together. Finally, to stop Rama’s curses and shouts, I tried to find some middle ground. “What if I helped you build a bridge?” I asked. “You could get your army to help. Between all of us, you could cross soon.”

Rama considered this for a moment before nodding, his anger gone as quickly as it came. “So be it,” he said simply before stalking off, shouting orders at his army of monkeys to bring materials for a bridge.

I breathed a sigh of relief as I resumed my normal activity, being careful to keep waves away from where Rama and his army worked. I watched as Rama’s monkey army and woodland animals worked together to make the huge bridge to Lanka.

The stories I heard about Rama’s greatness are undoubtedly true, but I avoided him for the rest of his stay on my shores. Thankfully, everything worked out for all of us. Rama found Sita and I returned to my regular routine.

Before Rama, no one threatened to evaporate my waters, nor anyone since. Hopefully I won’t be in a situation like that again.

Monkeys and Bears build bridge to Lanka. Wikimedia. 

Author's Note: For this story, I changed the point of view to Varuna, the sea god that Rama summons when he is trying to cross to Lanka. Besides the perspective change, I didn't change too much, as I just wanted the opposite perspective of Rama's. I also modernized the language some, although I kept much of the dialogue between Varuna and Rama the same.

In this scene of Ramayana, I thought Rama was being kind of ridiculous. I particularly chose this story because of how Rama acted in the original.

 Everyone who meets Rama is in awe of his greatness and he usually acts quite heroic and good-natured with people who are helping him. However, there are times when he acts very judgmental, rash, and a bit whiny. He almost  seems like a child who is used to continually getting his way, and then when something happens to change that he throws a fit. A tantrum was kind of what I saw from his behavior in this scene from the original story.

The sea god was bound by natural laws and yet Rama threatens him in the hope that he will somehow do the impossible. It's lucky the sea god was not irritated about his encounter with Rama and still agreed to help the hero get across to Lanka to save Sita.

For anyone who isn't familiar with Christianity, the mention of Moses, his staff, and the Red Sea in the story is a reference to a story in the Christian Bible. In the story, to escape with the Jewish slaves from Egypt, Moses parts the waters of the red sea with his staff, allowing them passage.

Bibliography: Narayan, R. K. (1972) The Ramayana. Pg. 132-133.

Week 2: Soorpanaka's Deceit (Storytelling)

I sat in our cottage while Rama and Lakshmana worked outside in the forest. Lakshmana had disappeared into the woods, but I could see Rama working just outside the cottage, humming quietly to himself.  

I went back to my cleaning until I heard Rama’s humming stop. I waited a second, listening before I heard him begin talking, but he sounded dazed. Not like he sounded when he talked to Lakshmana. I peered at the window to see a beautiful woman walking towards him from the woods.

She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She looked perfect with beautiful clothes and an abundance of jewelry covering her person.  No one of this beauty could be a mere human. She must have been disguised, or else been an incarnation of a goddess.

She sauntered over, never taking her eyes off my husband. Rama had stopped his work and was talking to her as she continued to approach him. They stood talking for a while. I couldn't hear what they said, but Rama was shaking his head, ‘no’ and the woman seemed to be getting frustrated. 

I decided it was time to see what was going on. I slowly walked out of the cottage, scanning the forest line, hoping to see Lakshmana, but to no avail.

As I approached the woman turned to me, a look of shock crossed her face as I approached Rama before her eyes darkened in hate. Rama turned to me then, “Sita,” he said as he extended his hand for me to hold as I approached.

The woman’s beautiful face had clouded with anger. She began yelling at Rama, I couldn't catch exactly what she screamed because of her franticness, but I understood enough to know that she was warning Rama about me.

“She’s a rakshasa! A demon! An enchantress!” the woman yelled, pointing at me. “You mustn't trust her!” Rama nearly smiled at these accusations, probably assuming that the woman revealed what she was in her lies against me.

Then the woman changed into her true rakshasa form as rage consumed her. She was Soorpanaka, the sister of Ravana.

Rama cursed the demon. Rama was angrier than I had ever seen him. “Go now! I don’t want you here. Leave before us my brother returns or else he will harm you.”  After some arguing, Rama turned and with his arm still around me, we walked into our cottage, leaving Soorpanaka alone. As we shut the door, her wail echoed around the building. 

The rakshasa's cry of despair must have worried Lakshmana because he soon returned but the demon had gone. “Don’t worry Rama, I’ll stay by the house from now on. I’ll make sure to protect Sita anytime you are away,” Lakshmana said.

“Thank you brother, I appreciate it. But I’m not too worried. She left on her own without any harm befalling her. I think she understood to leave us alone,” Rama stated confidently.

Lakshmana nodded at Rama but I wasn’t as convinced. Before she revealed her true self, Soorpanaka had shown so much distain and hatred towards me. I had little doubt she would be back soon, trying once again to marry Rama. Only next time, I feared she would to get me out of the way first. 

Events of Panchavati Forest. Wikimedia

Author's Note: I retold a part of the epic The Ramayana by Narayan. The section I retold was about when Ravana's sister tried to seduce and marry Rama by tricking him into thinking she was a beautiful, good person, instead of the rakshasa she was. I chose to retell this part of the epic because I felt like it was the beginning of Rama's fight since exile against the rakshasas and directly led to Ravana entering the story as Rama's main enemy. This one event sets into motion the next few chapters and fights for all of the characters.

I didn't change much of the story. The main change I made was telling the story through Sita's point of view. I condensed the dialogue and didn't use the exact phrases the character said and shortened the exchange between Soorpanaka and Rama. 

Story Source: Narayan, R. K. (1972) The Ramayana. Pg. 62-69

Week 1: Bear Encounter (Storytelling)

There were once two young men who had been friends for years. Their names were John and Marcus. Both spent most of their days together working as blacksmith’s apprentices. While forging swords for the knights, both men had said they would fight for and protect each other, as they were like brothers. 

However, those promises never required action, as the men led simple and uninteresting lives. When work was slow, John would practice with the swords, while Marcus would read about the world. He read about life in the deserts of the South, the oceans to the West, and the forests that surrounded their town. “You’re always reading those books,” Said John as he struck the blade into one of the wooden poles in the room.

“Yes, I am,” Marcus laughed. “I want to be a blacksmith who’s as clever as one of the fancy scholars.”

“Well,” said John, “If you want a skill that is actually useful in the world, you should train with me. I’m becoming as brave and strong as a knight. A book won’t save your life.”  But Marcus kept reading, and John kept swinging his sword.

One day the men were working when the blacksmith entered. “Boys,” he grunted, “I need you to go to the next town for some new tools.” The old man instructed them on what they needed and sent the boys on their way. They hadn’t gone on an errand before for the blacksmith, so both were excited for the adventure.

Later, John and Marcus were walking through the woods, on the narrow dirt road. The men were talking and laughing, telling stories from their childhood, and complaining about the old blacksmith. Then they heard something in the trees off to their left. Both froze.

The stood still and listened. They hadn’t seen another person on the road for over an hour and were still well away from the next town. The sound went quiet for a moment before continuing moving closer to them. They backed away and stood on the far side of the road, watching and waiting. After a moment, a huge brown bear came out of the tree line. The bear wasn’t paying the men any mind, at least not until John squealed in fear. The bear looked at the men curiously and began walking toward them.

John shook and began scrambling towards the trees behind him, knocking Marcus out of the way as he rushed away from the bear. When John reached the trees he scrambled up the nearest one, climbing half way to the top.

Marcus seemed calm outwardly, as he was trying not to startle the bear more. However, his mind was racing. He thought, Forests. Bears. Bears in forest., Bears killing people in forests. I must have read something about how to not get killed by bears in the forests. Then he remembered, he had once read that bears wouldn’t mess with the dead. As the bear neared him he dropped to the ground. He lay still, holding his breath, with his eyes closed. 

He could hear the bear moving towards him, and soon he felt the bear’s breath on his face and neck. The bear sniffed him a time or two, and then nudged his neck with a huge black nose. The bear soon became tired and lost interest in Marcus. As the bear lumbered back into the woods, Marcus sighed in relief, with ragged breaths, and slowly sat up.

After the bear had completely disappeared, John jumped down from the tree, still shaking. He collapsed next Marcus. “I thought you were dead for sure,” John said, staring huge eyed at Marcus. “It looked like he whispered to you, he was so close.”

“He did,” Marcus said still trying to catch his breath.

John looked at his friend skeptically, “Bears can’t talk.”

Marcus nodded, “This one did.  He said, ‘find a friend who’s brave like a knight and won’t let you get eaten by a bear.’” John turned red with embarrassment and Marcus laughed, though he was still angry with John. “The bear also said to keep reading books, as I would be dead if I depended on your bravery.” Marcus laughed again stood. John soon joined him and they continued down the road.

While the men worked together and remained friends. They never made any promises to one another again. Both men had seen how fear affected John. The encounter with danger had shown each of their true natures.

By: John and Karen Hollingsworth. "Big Brown Bear Urcus Arctos" Public Domain Image

Author's Note: This is a retelling of Aesop's fable entitled, "Two Travelers and a Bear". The story is of two men who are walking in the forest when they encounter a bear. One man leaves the other and climbs a tree, the other pretends to be dead to fool the bear. The bear leaves and the man on the ground told his friend that the bear said, "It is not at all wise to keep company with a fellow who would desert his friend in a moment of danger." The original fable and many others can be found in the book listed below, which is online for free by The Project Gutenburg. 

Bibliography: "Two Travelers and a Bear" from The Aesop for Children with pictures by Milo Winter (1919) Web Source: The Project Gutenburg