Week 13 Story: Ratnakar the Thuggee

NOTE: Please read the updated version of this story located on my Portfolio website.

Thuggee (wikimedia)

I did a quick inventory of the loot that my band of Thuggees had brought back to camp with a general sense of satisfaction. Mother Kali would be pleased with the offerings we’d provided. Running my fingers down the ritual scarf on my belt, I considered which prizes I would keep for myself. As jemadar, first choice was always mine. As I pondered my options, a golden torq with inset gems caught my eye. I froze as I studied the neckpiece, inundated by memories. My mother had one just like it.

My family had been traveling by caravan to a new village to live. I don’t know where we had come from or where we were going. I was very young. Up to that point, my life had been one moment of joy after another. My mother was beautiful and happy. I remembered the smell of her hair and the softness of her smile with heartbreaking clarity. My father is a bit of a blur, but my mother was clear in my mind. Her, and my sister. I hadn’t thought of my sister in uncounted years, but I could perfectly picture her impish face, and the cheerful sound of her happy giggles. A group of young men joined our caravan. I only recollect that portion of events vaguely, but I recalled the men discussing the group around the fire at night. They’d seemed trustworthy, so they’d been accepted. The ambush had come one night as camp was being set up. The young men attacked in silence, without warning. Using bright red scarves, they strangled everyone in the caravan. They strangled all of them, except for me. They hid the bodies in the forest, and they took me with them.

My life was very different after that fateful night. I became a Thuggee apprentice, learning the arts of murder and robbery in the name of Mother Kali. I embraced the teachings and the life, and I excelled. I reveled in the blood, and took pleasure in the look of betrayal in the eyes of my victims as the light faded from them. I was good at what I did, and I enjoyed it. I took the name Ratnakar, and it wasn’t long before I led a Thuggee band of my own. I thought nothing of the family that I’d lost. Until now.

I was pulled from my reverie by screaming. The panicked and pain filled screams of a young girl filled the camp. A girl that sounded like my sister. I rushed toward the racket into the clearing the middle of camp. There, tied to a stake, was a terrified child. I couldn’t tear my eyes from her face. She not only sounded like my sister, she looked like her too. We stared at each other for a very long time, the terrified girl and me. Her tear filled eyes seemed to see into the deepest portion of my soul. My Thuggees told me that they’d found her, alone, on the outskirts of a nearby village. They were going to sacrifice her to Mother Kali. I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t let them hurt that little girl.

I untied the girl and returned her to her village. Walking back, I contemplated my life and what I had become. I realized the monstrousness of my actions and the horrors that I had inflicted upon the innocent. I did it all in the name of the goddess, but I had no real certainty that the goddess wanted the sacrifices we provided. Wanting an answer, I stopped to pray, hoping that the goddess would take pity and answer me. I had almost given up when she did, not with words, but with a certainty in my heart. What the Thuggees do, what I had done for so long, was not the worship that Mother Kali desired. It was, in fact, inimical to her purpose. I bowed my head in shame, tears of misery tracking down my face. I had betrayed my mother, my sister, my father, and myself. I had done evil, and I must atone.

My evil acts had been those of excess: excess greed and excess harm. To redeem myself, I had to commit to a life of absolute austerity. After disbanding my Thuggees, and explaining the wrongness of our way of life, I went deep into the woods. I went into a trance so deep it was like unto death, becoming one with Brahman and the whole of the universe. I do not know how long I was in that trance state. It must have been many years, for when I awoke I was imprisoned in an anthill, a valmik, which had grown up around me. Vines twined through my long hair and beard. Breaking out of my dirt cell, I looked around the deep woods and determined to start a new life. A new life based on enlightenment and goodness.

For a new life, a new name was required. A name that embodied the man I was now, and what had shaped me. I chose Valmiki.

Author's Note: The story, Ratnakar the Robber Chief, tells a variation of the origin of the sage Valmiki. Valmiki is the legendary author of the epic Ramayana. The story follows the leader of a robber band named Ratnakar. This robber band worships the goddess, Kali, in one of her darker aspects. As a part of their worship, they engage in human sacrifice. Ratnakar begins to feel guilty about the pain and death. He decides to stop and begin practicing austerities in an attempt to redeem himself. Ratnakar entered a deep trance while in the hollow of an anthill, called a valmik. He took his new name from this.

A history of human sacrifice is not unknown on the Indian subcontinent, but it was probably very rare. There was a temple, in the town of Kuknur, built in the 8th or 9th century dedicated to Kali. Historical evidence, and anecdotes, suggest that human sacrifices took place there. There is also historical accounts that show human sacrifices dedicated to Kali were somewhat common in Bengal, and that they continued until the British outlawed the practice. However, stories still surface of children being sacrificed. Supposedly, there was a gang known as The Thugs or Thuggee. They would rob and strangle travelers in Kali's name until the British eradicated them.

I wanted to write a variation of this story that stays pretty true to the original telling. In the story, the gang catches a child, a young girl, and are about to kill her. Ratnakar feels pity for the young girl and stops the sacrifice. I wanted to focus on Ratnakar's empathy for this girl as the impetus to change his life. This fits with the legends and evidence that show children were often a victim of sacrifices dedicated to Kali. I focused the story on Ratnakar's memory of the events and how they affected his evolution.


Bibliography: Indian Fables and Folklore by Shovona Devi. Web Source.

Reading Notes: The Panchatantra, Part B

(Pixabay)

- The story, The Mosquito and the Bug, is about a bedbug named Crawler who lives with her family in the sumptuous bed of a king. The bedbug family lives happily and comfortably, with plenty to eat. One day a mosquito flies in and starts playing on the bed. He is enjoying himself when he sees Crawler and asks her to whom the bed belongs. The mosquito says that he wishes to drink the blood of the bed's owner, as he is obviously wealthy and must eat only the best food. Crawler admonishes the mosquito that it must be careful with the biting. It may only bite when the king is deeply asleep from drink, and my only bite the foot. That night the king comes to bed, and the mosquito is not able to control himself. He immediately bites the king on the back, which causes the king to wake up violently. The bed is searched for the bug that bit the king, and Crawler and her family are found and killed. Meanwhile, the mosquito who caused the whole mess had flown away.
- Crawler trusts the mosquito when she shouldn't. She knows nothing about his character. She gives him information that puts her entire family at risk without having any evidence to suggest that the mosquito is worth the trusts she gives him. Such blind trust is utterly foolish. If she were the only one who might be hurt should things go wrong, that would be one thing. However, she didn't have the right to risk others.
- The mosquito was just a dick.


Bibliography: The Panchatantra by Krishna Dharma. Web source.

Reading Notes: The Panchatantra, Part A

(Wikimedia)

- One of the fables within the Panchatantra is a story about a crow and a raven that illustrates the moral lesson that the weak can overcome the strong if they are clever. The story is about a crow that builds his next in a banyan tree. The crow and his wife then lay eggs, but a black serpent that lives nearby eats the baby birds before they are capable of flight. The crow wants to get rid of the serpent and asks a hyena for advice. The hyena advises that the crow go to the river, where the rich people bathe, and steal some of their jewelry, then drop that jewelry where the snake lives. The crow follows this advice, and the rich people kill the snake while trying to get back the necklace that the crow stole.
- I like this story, but I want to make it entirely the crow's idea. Crows are extremely intelligent. So, there's no reason that a crow would need the help of a hyena to come up with a sneaky plan. I will probably make the jewel that the crow steals something more than just a necklace. A necklace is easy to write off. Perhaps it is the king and the queen who are bathing in the river and the crow steals the king's crown. That's something that wouldn't be overlooked.
- In the original story, the crow's wife wants to just run away and leave the banyan tree to the serpent. She is afraid and doesn't want to risk something else terrible happening. I think I would prefer that she support the idea of tricking the serpent and getting him killed. The serpent did eat her children. That's likely to inspire feelings of vengeance. Crows can be quite vindictive.



Bibliography: The Panchatantra by Krishna Dharma. Web source.

Week 12 Story Planning: Valmiki

Thuggee (Wikimedia)

- The story, Ratnakar the Robber Chief, tells a variation of the origin of the sage Valmiki. Valmiki is the legendary author of the epic Ramayana. The story follows the leader of a robber band named Ratnakar. This robber band worships the goddess, Kali, in one of her darker aspects. As a part of their worship, they engage in human sacrifice. Ratnakar begins to feel guilty about the pain and death. He decides to stop and begin practicing austerities in an attempt to redeem himself. Ratnakar entered a deep trance while in the hollow of an anthill, called a valmik. He took his new name from this.
- A history of human sacrifice is not unknown on the Indian subcontinent, but it was probably very rare. There was a temple, in the town of Kuknur, built in the 8th or 9th century dedicated to Kali. Historical evidence, and anecdotes, suggest that human sacrifices took place there. There is also historical accounts that show human sacrifices dedicated to Kali were somewhat common in Bengal, and that they continued until the British outlawed the practice. However, stories still surface of children being sacrificed. Supposedly, there was a gang known as The Thugs or Thuggee. They would rob and strangle travelers in Kali's name until the British eradicated them.
- I want to write a variation of this story that stays pretty true to the original telling. In the story, the gang catches a child, a young girl, and were about to kill her. Ratnakar feels pity for the young girl and stops the sacrifice. I want to focus on Ratnakar's empathy for this girl as the impetus to change his life. This fits with the legends and evidence that show children were often a victim of sacrifices dedicated to Kali. I plan to focus more on Ratnakar's thoughts and their evolution.


Bibliography: Indian Fables and Folklore by Shovona Devi. Web Source.

Reading Notes: Indian Fables and Folklore, Part B

Smoking and Drinking Monkeys by David Teniers the Younger (Wikimedia)

- The story, The Monkey Banker, is about the son of a merchant who got cheated by an innkeeper. The innkeeper was a woman, which probably had something to do with how easily she cheated the young man. In an effort to get his money back, and revenge on the thieving woman, the innkeeper's son spends a large amount of time training a monkey. He trains it to swallow a certain number of coins, then bring up whatever number of coins is named. The young man goes back to the inn, with the trained monkey, and convinces the woman that the gold coins are limitless, and trades the (now worthless) monkey in exchange for not only his own lost money, but everything the woman has stolen altogether. The provided moral of the story is "Ill-gotten gains will often be lost to another's roguery."
- I want to write an entirely different story that is based on the moral of this one. A thief who gets his or her stuff stolen always feels like a good example of just desserts. After stealing from someone, he will meet a woman that manages to get the best of him. Later, he might discover that they woman was the sister of the original victim.


Bibliography: Indian Fables and Folklore by Shovona Devi. Web Source.

Reading Notes: Indian Fables and Folklore, Part A

Kali (Wikimedia)

- In the story, Ratnakar the Robber-Chief, you learn the origins of the sage, Valmiki, the poet who supposedly composed the Ramayana. Ratnakar had been the leader of a band of thieves, living in the forest, who worshipped the goddess Kali. The worship of Kali involves, among other things, human sacrifice. Eventually, after several things happen, Ratnakar begins to feel guilty about the terrible things that he's done in Kali's name, and to feel tired of all the bloodshed. So, he goes off to meditate and live in austerity. During this time, he lives within a hollowed out ant-hill, called a valmik. From this, he takes the name Valmiki. He is eventually given the gift of poetry and becomes the first Indian poet.
- I am particularly interested in Kali, a Hindu goddess of death and destruction, although it is usually a destruction directed towards evil forces. However, she is also worshipped as a sort of mother goddess. I find the darker versions of Kali more interesting, from a storytelling standpoint.
- I want to do a variation of a story about a gang of thieves and their worship of Kali and human sacrifice. The thieves could have a deep misunderstanding of who the goddess really is, and her place in the universe, which leads to them committing all sorts of horrible acts. Of course, they have to have their comeuppance at some point, so Kali in her guise of destroyer of evil would take care of it herself.


Bibliography: Indian Fables and Folklore by Shovona Devi. Web Source.

Week 11 Story: Laila and Majnu

Laila and Majnu (Wikipedia)

The baby Krishna had performed another miracle. No one had known that spirits had been trapped for long years underneath the roots of two ancient trees. The baby had freed them, giggling joyfully.

Yasoda, Krishna’s foster mother, goggled with shock at the ephemeral spirits. One appeared to be a man, the other a woman. She couldn’t imagine how they had been trapped or why.

“So, why were you two trapped under those trees?” Yasoda gave in to the urgings of her curiosity.

“We were trapped there long ago by an evil sorcerer.” The spirit with the female aspect answered Yasoda’s question.

“Will you tell me your story?” Yasoda asked.

“Of course. It will help us to talk about it,” the spirit woman replied. My name is Laila. This man was my love when we lived. His name is Majnu.”

Majnu nodded in respect to the mother of his lord and began to relate the sad tale of the two lovers. “We had loved each other for years, but Laila’s father refused my offer of marriage until I had a better life to offer. I worked hard to build something that Laila and her father could be proud of. We were just about to get our blessing when the evil sorcerer showed up.”

Laila nodded and continued the story. “The sorcerer was a cruel, greasy man. He asked my father for my hand in marriage, but I begged my father to deny him. I loved Majnu, and even if I didn’t, I was horrified at the prospect of marrying such a terrible person.”

“We convinced Laila’s father to reject the sorcerer’s offer, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. He cursed us and trapped us under the roots of these two trees. The sorcerer swore that if he couldn’t have what he wanted, then no one else could have it. It amused him to trap us so close together, but with no way to reach each other. We knew we would be trapped there until our lord would come to free us. It has felt like forever.” Majnu finished their tragic tale.

“But, now we are free. We did not get a life together, but Majnu and I will spend eternity side by side. Bless you and your divine son for releasing us from that terrible prison.” Laila began to shimmer out of sight as she finished her expression of gratitude.

“Yes, thank you. We are grateful for this blessing from our lord, Krishna.” Majnu also faded away to nothing.

Yasoda shook her head in consternation. The world is a very strange place when you are mother to a god. Shrugging her shoulders, she decided to just accept the weirdness as it came. Her decision made, she picked up her giggling son and went back to her work.

Author's Note: In the stories about the Divine Childhood of Krishna, many different miracles and unusual events that occurred around the child are talked about. One of those is about the time that his foster mother tied the boy to an axle in an effort to keep him from wandering while she was busy doing work. There were two ancient trees growing close together, and the idea was that the axle would be too heavy for the child to drag. In the event that he was able to drag it, the axle would wedge between the two trees and limit his movement. However, Krishna was not only able to easily drag the heavy axle, but after it wedged itself between the trees, he was able to pull the trees down. After the trees were uprooted, two spirits appeared. They claimed that they had been held captive, by a spell, under the trees for many years. Krishna had saved them from their prison. I was curious about the two spirits. I thought that they should be lovers who were kept apart by an evil sorcerer. The sorcerer lusted for the woman, but she rejected his advances in favor of her poor, but kind and honorable lover. Enraged by jealousy, the sorcerer imprisons the two under the trees, so that they are apart, but tortured by their closeness. For the names of the two spirits, I chose the two famous star-crossed lovers from an old eastern story: Laila and Majnu.

Bibliography: Cradle Tales of Hinduism by Sister Nivedita. Web source.