Storytelling for Week 12: Don't let your pumpkin upset your mother.

There once was a boy who had mastered the art of pumpkin carving. He had carved pumpkins every year with his mother ever since he could remember, gaining much experience along the way. This Fall, the boy had decided to enter one of his creations into the annual pumpkin carving contest his town put on. The winner of this contest would receive a ride along lawn mower. The boy and his mother lived on a plot of land with a lot of acres and one of his chores was cutting the grass when it grew too tall. A lawn mower he could ride would be perfect for him!

After crafting a beautiful carving depicting a castle being attacked by a dragon, the boy sat back to admire his work. After staring at the castle for a few minutes he began to daydream about winning the contest.

castle and dragon pumpkin carving found at deviantart.com

The boy thought:
When I win, the townspeople will be cheer but be so jealous at the same time! That mean old Jacob Jr. will be so surprised he did not win this year. I will take home my prize to momma and never complain about mowing the grass again. Until the engine breaks, then I will have to take it to the mechanic down the street. Since he does not get a lot of lawn mowers in his shop he will not know how to fix it and I will have to break it apart and trade the parts in. I will trade the parts in at the scrap yard for a bike so I won't have to walk to school everyday. The bike will make me look so cool! After a couple years I will trade in my bike for a motor scooter, paying the rest with allowance money. The scooter will surely get me a girlfriend in high school and she will want to marry me. When I reject her and tell her I want to live with my momma the rest of my life she will get angry with me. After storming off she will go to my momma's house and bang on the door yelling for her to come out and speak with her. I do not like it when my momma is upset by anyone because she goes in her room for days and does not come out. I don't want my high school girlfriend making my momma cry and stay in her room!

After angering himself over this thought, the boy picked up his pumpkin and threw it to the ground. The creation that was sure to win at the contest was now a pile of yuck. The boy ran inside and hugged his momma, whom he would make sure never got upset by his high school girlfriend.

Author's Note: I based my story off of the Indian fairy tale titled "The Broken Pot" in the Indian Fairy Tale Unit by Joseph Jacobs. In this fairy tale, there is a Brahman who saved up a pot of rice and he began to think about what to do with it. He eventually traded the rice up to earning a house with wings. Then his daydreaming gets shifted towards obtaining a wife and then a child and how he would then tell the child to come to him one day and he would get mad at the wife because the child would be too close to danger so he ends up breaking the pot of rice when kicking his wife in his daydreams. I thought this was such a crazy fairy tale I had to re-create it with a modern twist. I used a little boy because I thought the Brahman resembled a little boy in his thinking and ill temper. I tried not to drift towards getting money as a trading up source to keep with the theme from the fairy tale. Ultimately, I needed something to have the boy destroy that he thought was the starting point of his final trade that led to his anger. After writing this story I realized both the fairy tale and my story reminded me of a cable commercial (I forget for which service) that creates this same kind of ridiculous thinking and that is where the title comes from. I thought it was pretty funny how some people can lead to conclusions that are so far from where they begin.

Storytelling Post: Jealousy. week 9

Cards from wikimedia commons

 

There was a large housewarming party for five brothers that had just built a home to live together in. At the party were friends, neighbors, and family that brought countless gifts and warm wishes. Everyone had a great time at this event, all except one man. The eldest cousin of the brothers, son of their uncle Dhrit, was Dury. Dury sat outside on a bench and had sulking thoughts to himself.

“My cousins are useless, why do they get all these awesome gifts? I did not get gifts as awesome as these at my party…ahhh and this house, it is so glorious I can’t help but to love it and adore the open spaces and grand construction of it all! They have delicious food served to them every day and my cooks at our house are not as great as theirs. I am pretty sure my television is smaller as well, either that or the picture on it has less pixels…something about their tv makes me loathe my own. WHY do they get all they would ever want and I get things that are less than what is theirs? We come from the same family and our fathers are brothers. Why do I get stuck with a blind king for a father and theirs is dead? I love my dad but he does not understand the agony I am put through by these brothers’ existence! Maybe it is perhaps he cannot literally see the difference of our two worlds, since they feel the same to him he does not side with me on this. I must do something to bring shame or embarrassment to them so people will look at me and think more highly of me and I will be favored with the greater gifts and adoration! But what can I do?? I could challenge them to a game I know I can win. I will make them gamble everything away to me. Of the brothers Yud, Arju, Bhim, Nak & Saha the weakest would have to be Yud since he was horrible at games growing up, he would always lose. Aha! I must go make this game of poker happen right now in front of everyone here.”

Then Dury told his friend that was there of his plan and asked him to use his best tricks to win everything from Yud in the poker game, since he himself was not the best. Of course he agreed since he was just as jealous of the brothers as Dury was. The grand poker game was arranged and all surrounded to watch. Yud was engulfed in arrogance and thought he could win so he kept gambling away his belongings. Pretty soon, everything he owned or loved was gambled away to Dury’s sit in player and the last thing was his wife’s most precious wedding ring. Since the rules stated that anything under the house of Dury or Yud could be gambled, it was fair game. Sad story. The end.

Author’s note: I chose to retell a spin-off of the story with Duryodhana and challenging Yudhistira in a game of gambling. This is taking place in modern times and at a house warming party instead of after the celebration of the Pandava brothers for their city. I shortened Duryodhana’s name as well as the rest of the character’s mentioned here from the book. I wanted to emphasize his crazy feelings of jealousy toward the brothers and not focus so much on the actual game that made Yudhistira lose all his stuff. It’s a bit different than the book but the core concept of family ties and jealousy is here which is what I wanted to keep the same. I could’ve went into more detail but am feeling sick and lacking creativity unfortunately :\

Bibliography: Narayan, R. K. (1978). The Mahabharata

Storytelling, Week 6: Krushka

There once was a demon warrior named Krushka who served under the evil demon king Ravana. The warrior was one of Ravana’s most trusted soldiers and friend. There was a great battle going on because Ravana had stolen a man named Rama’s beautiful wife. Rama was a prince and a reincarnation of the God Vishnu. He had pure intentions and was loved and followed by many, but not welcomed in the kingdom of Lanka. Once Ravana’s son had seemingly killed the greatest threat to Ravana and the whole demon blood line, Ravana was able to let loose. After the defeat of Rama, Ravana celebrated with all the warriors of his kingdom and drank and drank until he passed out into a deep slumber for three days. During the second day of King Ravana’s rest, Krushka woke up from his own drunken sleep.  He bathed in the blood of the fallen and then left the palace to find some rodents to eat. After his breakfast Krushka went to fetch the body of Rama since Indrajit did not want to give any respect to this human he had slain. Indrajit expected Rama’s body to rot on the hill outside of Lanka so his bones would serve as a warning to not mess with any demons, for they cannot be defeated. Krushka had other plans for Rama’s body though. He wanted to bring it to Ravana so he could cast it into the sky and hang above the city like a trophy and a reminder to all that the demons defeated by Rama did not die in vain. When he arrived to the site of Rama’s body, Krushka could not find it. He saw the arrows that were still wet with blood but no sign of the trophy he intended to wake Ravana with. Krushka was confused and started to walk back to the city when he caught sight of Rama and Hanuman talking to one another a couple leagues from where he stood. Krushka hurried back to the city and told all his fellow warriors of Rama’s life being restored and to leave their celebrations behind them. The dreadful task of telling Ravana this horrible news laid on his shoulders. All he could do was wait for him to wake. Krushka did not want to dare wake Ravana from his peaceful sleep to tell him because he knew how much sleep his friend had lost over worry of this Rama. So he sat by his bed along with Ravana’s many wives and waited. He wanted to be the first one to tell him but he was also afraid of Ravana’s anger once he knew of this news. He waited. And waited. Then on the third day of his slumber, Ravana awakened.

Author’s note:

I chose to fill in some blanks left by Buck about the time that passed in Ravana’s sleep when he believed Rama to be dead. I made up the character of Krushka- and the name obviously- because I wanted to explore a possible scenario of reason for sleeping, finding out Rama was alive, and who could have told Ravana the truth. I did not want to go into the dialogue between them though, which would have been cool to think of but this way I got to have a cliffhanger ;)

Buck, William (1976). Ramayana: King Rama's Way. 
Image Information: What would be a cool rendition of Krushka if he were a character, found at deviantart.net by Simone Delladio

Storytelling, Week 4: The note left on a wall

"Of all my years alive in the city of Ayodhya I have never felt more peace than in knowing that our Rama would be king. When king Dasartha announced this would finally become so, the whole land rejoiced because we knew Rama’s heart. Dasartha was a great king and he ruled with no fault but his son was everything a leader should be. He was the one who should take Dasartha’s spot as king because he did not seek it, it sought him. One who does not yearn for power such as this is most deserving of it. The day I found out Rama was to be king was both the best and worst day of my life. The exile Rama faced was unfair and brash. Dasartha knew this to be awful but his hands were tied in the fate of his honesty. He was compelled to keep his promise to his queen. Rama had no such declaration to any man and thus he would be an even better ruler because his actions would be pure, free of contempt. When the gates opened and Sumantra guided the chariot that held Rama, Sita, and Lakshmana I felt my heart go with them. I think all the elders knew what we had to do. We followed the tracks left behind them. All was lost if we could not bring Rama back to his throne. It was his destiny. We thought it was our duty to try and repair what was breaking. We used all our will power to command the river of Tamasa to thwart their path and she had obeyed, further evidence of Rama’s destiny to come back and be king. When we finally caught up to the camp where they had rested, night had fallen and we were exhausted. Damn our ill fitted bodies. Sleep was our mission’s only demise. After pleading Rama to return with us to Ayodhya, he kept declining. Even brought up his brother in his argument and said that he would be a solid leader. But we knew Rama and Bharata both the same and Bharata was not who should be king. As Rama fell asleep, I thought for sure morning would clear his mind of this journey. I was wrong. When we woke the chariot and all of Rama’s closest followers were gone. But they left a trail and we followed with quick feet as we did not know how long they had evaded us. They knew of our minds and that we would follow, so they thwarted our journey as we had done to theirs and threw us off their track. I know Rama has good intentions but we need him. Does he not know that? The whole city was on the brink of death with mourning on our arrival. In my hut I can hear the weeping of the people and animals as they do not know what is to become of this once beautiful land of strength and hope. Our own king has fallen in agony, our destined king is exiled by the strength of a promise, and our new king has yet to receive knowledge of his newly obtained power. I sit here writing this to whomever may read it on my wall. As I leave this realm tonight I wish that my life taking is justified in my words. My old age was never the enemy or the reason for me to leave, but it is my fear of the unknown life ahead in the days I do have left. I leave now while I can still remember what it is like to have a harmonious city around me."

Castle of Darkness by Deviantart.net

Author's note:
I wrote about when Rama left the city of Ayodhya and the old men followed his chariot trying to persuade his return when they catch up to him and finding false hope as they follow a trail trap when they wake up the next day and returning to the city. I did this through the eyes of one of those old men and was so overcome with sadness that he takes his own life after 'justifying' his action by writing this letter on the wall of his hut. I realize this is a very severe reaction to Rama being exiled but I felt like this is a way I could exert the powerful emotion that seemed to sweep the land. I chose this picture because it depicted a dark kingdom but the heavens are still bright because there still is hope, even if the people do not know it yet the gods do: all will be well with time. 

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

Storytelling, Week 3: A gift for Sita

Ravana was an evil demon king who had become intoxicated with the idea of having the best of everything in the land. He had heard of a great warrior’s wife who was said to be more beautiful than any woman on earth, and so he devised a plan to take her away from Rama (her husband) and keep her for himself. He managed to accomplish this task but not without the attention of Rama. Rama and his brother along with recruited help declared war on Ravana if he did not return Sita unharmed. Ravana would not give his prize up, for she was too beautiful to let go. Annoyed with her constant aching for her beloved however, he ordered many spectacles to take place in order to sway her heart towards Ravana and forget about Rama. One day, when a battle was eminent on his door steps, Ravana hatched his most evil plan in order to trick Sita into losing hope of rescue by Rama. Ravana procured a sorcerer and told him to create a body part of Rama’s to thrust into Sita’s view so there would be no doubt in her mind of his utter demise.

“Here is a present for you my dear Sita,” Ravana explained, “you yearn to kiss the lips of your husband, feel the brush of his cheeks against your palms, and to get lost in his eyes. I hear you at night wailing of these deep wishes and I have decided that I only wish to make you happy so here is the answer you seek.”

Sita raised her head up at these words, could it be true that Ravana has chosen to delight her in this way? Her heart filled with happiness as she replied, “Oh yes! Those are my true desires and I would be the happiest woman if you could grant me these wishes. Give me my Rama back and I to him. All your discrepancies would be pardoned and we would leave you and your family alone. Please I beg of you!”

A sly smile crept across Ravana’s face and his eyes gleamed. He dropped a box in the middle of the room and simply said “very well then my princess” and left Sita alone with her dreams.

Sita stared at this box that had appeared before her. She waited for Rama to burst out of captivity and hold her in his arms, but the air stood still. After what seemed like forever, Sita finally went to the box and lifted the lid with urgency. What she saw inside the human sized box was not human sized at all. In the corner of the box laid Rama’s head, decapitated from his absent body.

From ritsin.com

Horror and shock took over Sita’s body and she sunk to the ground on her knees. There was blood still rushing out and it ran to her knees still warm yet she could not move. Her heart started to break and send pain throughout all crevices of her body. There was no hope of rescue, and even if there was, there was no point in rescue. Rama was her world. All she could do was look at her husband’s lifeless face on its side. She had wanted to kiss his lips, but here they were for her and she would not get kissed back. She had dreamed of holding his face in her hands, but not detached from his body. She had yearned to share love between a simple locking of eyes, but his eyes were to never move to meet hers again. It was her Rama. Yet it wasn’t. His eyes were staring wide open into the depths of her soul. She had never seen his eyes look like this before. They were filled with fear. Fear. Sita stood up and walked away from the box, back to her position of meditation on the floor.

Ravana was outside her chamber waiting to hear the cries of Sita’s heartbreak. Nothing happened. He peeked inside and saw the box opened but Sita rested seemingly undisturbed. Why is she not running to him for comfort and love now that hers was lost? Had she not looked into the box? Alas, did she not love Rama as much as she led on? Ravana rushed inside.

“You do not like my gift? I would have thought you to be cuddling your husband right now.”

Sita replied with a steady voice, “You are a tortured soul, if you have one at all. This trickery will not conquer my hope or my love for my husband’s arrival. Tell your sorcerer he made a major error in the creation of that thing to reflect Rama. His eyes would never yield fear at his demise.”

Author’s Note----

I chose to write about the event where Ravana presents to Sita a creation of Rama’s decapitated head in order to try and sway her of holding onto hope. I changed it into a proposed ‘gift’ from Ravana to Sita. I also created Sita’s woes at night in order for the meaning of Rama’s head as a gift instead of a leg or arm etc. I made sure that Sita was shaken at first but quickly recovered. I used Rama’s eyes filled with fear as the sudden indicator of foul play for Sita. I thought it would be fun to elaborate on this scene in the book since there is literally only two sentences about it on page 134. A little backstory was given at the beginning because it felt weird to just jump right into the scene. 

 Narayan, R. K. (1972) The Ramayana.

Week 1: Storytelling (Hush-a-bye-baby)

HUSH-A-BYE, baby, on the tree top;

 When the wind blows, the cradle will rock;

 When the bough bends, the cradle will fall;

 Down will come baby, bough, cradle, and all.

(Original Nursery Rhyme)

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There once was a woman who had just become a new mommy. She and her baby lived in Oklahoma, and it was spring time. The new baby would cry all day and all night, only to be soothed by the sound of wind. Without any electricity, the woman would sit outside with her child all day wishing for wind gusts to sweep their way. On a day that there was no wind, the woman took her baby to the doctor and the doctor gave some advice to hush the baby. “On a stormy day, leave your baby outside and see if a tornado will cause her to despise wind from then on” The mother was horrified. “Won’t that be a danger to her life? I have heard many stories of tornados being ravenous to everything it touches…” The doctor sighed and looked at the child. “This little one will not stop crying until she hears wind that will scare her; a small tornado should do the trick.” Reluctant but desperate, the mother left her baby girl outside one afternoon when she had heard rumors in the town square of a possible small tornado coming to town. Sure enough, she could see one in the pasture coming her way.

(Pix a bay)

 

After ten minutes and the tornado had passed, the mother went to look for her baby. There was no crying sounds coming from anywhere and she began to get worried. Finally, after looking everywhere, the mother spotted her baby in a nearby tree. The baby was calm until the wind started rustling again. The doctor was right. The mother had to reassure her baby she would be in her arms again after the wind came back to push her cradle back down. Sure enough, the cradle fell with the baby safely into the mother’s arms just like she had told the baby. From then on, the child was calmed by her mother’s voice and not the sound of wind that reminded her of her journey into the air onto the top of a tree.

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Author's Note: I created this story based on the nursery rhyme, Hush-a-bye Baby available in The Nursery Rhyme Book edited by Andrew Lang and released in 2008.  I surrounded my story on the premise of how the baby got into the tree in the first place. Of course, this is highly unlikely to occur in real life, which is why I felt it appropriate as a story ;) The only way a baby could end up in a tree in a cradle would be to have been put there but I thought about how things end up in trees around here. Since tornados are more likely in Oklahoma I based the story here. I then had to figure out why on earth a baby would not be undercover in the case of a tornado, hence the colic-y state of the child and the desperation of the mother. With doctor's orders, I figured it would be most believable. I hope I get better at this storytelling business because this was pretty difficult to do ! But fun as well :)