Week 11 Storytelling: A Love Untrue

They sat at dinner for what felt like the millionth time.  Something was wrong though.  She could sense it.  Raymond, her husband, looked so troubled.

"Is everything okay, honey?" Sally passed him the gravy.

"I need to move to Italy," he stated slowly, looking her in the eyes.  "Nonee is too sick, and she has no one to help her.  She completely refuses to leave, but she is on her deathbed alone."  Sally took in his words, hearing each one but shocked at how unexpected it was.

"Well, I guess you have to do what you have to do,"  Sally stood up to fill up their tea's.

He spoke with his employer and booked his flight.  Before she knew it, she was sleeping alone.  The days were easy, because Sally was always at work.  The nights were what made it hard.  Weeks passed by, and then months.  They rarely got to speak due to the cost of calling.

A telephone similar to the one Sally and Raymond talked on (Wiki)

Sally's family began questioning Raymond's story.  Some said that he must have moved on, because they are never able to speak.  Sally showed them the letters he had written her.  They were so passionate, and all he talked about was how much he loved and missed her.  Despite her debating their constant questions, she too began to question her husband's love after many more months passed.

One day, Sally received a call from Raymond that finally ended their strife.  He said he had finally saved enough money to come home, and that he would be there on the next flight.  She was both overjoyed and filled with dread at the same time.

Raymond arrived two days later, and Sally was as cold as ice when he stepped off of the plane.  He could not understand what was wrong.  She handed him the car keys and then she took the subway back to their apartment.

"I can't be with you anymore," Sally picked up the living room nervously.  Raymond was shocked.

"What?  What have I done? Is it someone else?"  Raymond cried.  He had not even considered her being unfaithful, but what if that was it?

"Hah.  A handsome man like you.  There is no way you went a year without sleeping with anyone." Sally shouted.  She handed him his suitcase.  She calmly walked to her bedroom and locked the door.  Her mind was completely made up, and he was not changing it.  After a short time of silence she finally heard the front door open then close.

It is what had to be done.  Her family would now leave her alone, and she could move on with her life.  She knew if she had stayed with him her family would have questioned her judgement and forever questioned her dear Raymond.

She swore to never love another, as did he.  They lived unhappily ever after.

Author's Note.  This story is loosely based on Rama (Raymond) and Sita (Sally) in the Ramayana. This week, I watched the film "Sita Sings the Blues" and I was (once again) shot in the heart by the terribly sad ending to this love story.  Because of this, I decided to write a story similar in modern days terms (and reverse the male/female roles) to, once again, show how silly it was that Rama did what he did.

Bibliography.  The film "Sita Sings the Blues" was created by Nina Paley in 2008.  It can be found on YouTube here.

Week 10 Storytelling: Mighty Princess Maya

One day, the mighty princess Maya stood on the tallest rock in the forest and admired her kingdom.  Before she took over, the dense forest had been run by rakshasas and lowly folks such as robbers and thieves.  Every time someone in her father's city tried to hunt in the woods they either ended up robbed or badly injured, or they never returned.  This caused a great famine in the city, so princess Maya decided she was going to put an end to this madness.

During the first sign of spring that year, she and her company men and women started on the outside of the forest with torches and began burning any bush too thick to see through.  By doing this, she planned to void the trees of all places that were previously used for hiding and treachery. Just a few weeks into their journey, rakshasas stormed their camp and abducted three men!  Maya knew she had to save these men without losing any more, so she threw on her armor and readied her weapons.  Her favorite weapon was the sword, but she was a master of them all.  She was the top at javelin throwing in her kingdom, and her sword abilities could cut anything clean and through.  Her boomerang would hit anything she aimed at and return.  Maya's most favorite weapon was her bow.  For this trip, she decided to leave the javelin at the camp so it didn't weigh her down.

The great Joan of Arc, another mighty warrior like Maya (Wiki)

She set out in darkness to find where the rakshasas stayed.  Not long into her journey she heard cackling like that of a jackal.  She crouched down and edged closer.  Peering through a thicket, she saw three of her men tied to poles surrounding the massive bonfire the demons had erected.  A few of the stronger looking rakshasas picked up the man closest to her and began parading him through the camp over their heads.  Onlookers yelled and cheered while eating their fest, which consisted of the last men that were wandering through the forest.  These side rakshasas threw sticks and bones from their supper at the man as he passed by on the large rakshasas shoulders.

Maya had had enough.  She burst through the bush and ran at the demon closest to her.  With her mighty fists she punched two at the same time, knocking them out.  Pulling out her bow, she began shooting arrows at every breathing creature but her men.  The rakshasas advanced, less shocked now, and drew their swords.  This was no match for Maya.   Five, ten, fifteen at a time they came in raids and in one swipe of her sword she took them all out.  Finally only a few were left.  They were hiding behind the tent, so she pulled out her boomerang and took all of their heads off with one swift throw.

Finally, she had killed all of the demons, and she rushed to untie the three men from her company.  They were so grateful that they each pledged their life, stating that they would follow her wherever she went and do what she needed done.  They finished cleaning up the forest, and even started preparing some farming land for the farmers hiding behind the walls of the city.

Until Maya's last breath, the city was safe from any outside peril.

Author's Note.  This story idea comes from the story The Felon Demon in Indian Fables and Folklore.  It is about a demon with a shovel gifted from a god that has allowed him to be an all-powerful demon.  No one could defeat him, not even an entire army.  One day, he kidnapped the king's daughter (the princess).  The king said that whoever saved her would be permitted to marry her.  One prince was willing, and he fought the demon for three days straight.  In the end, the prince won the battle and also won the princess.
I feel like this stories (and many I read like it) are so old times where the poor princess was a damsel in distress that couldn't lift a pinky for herself.  This is why I decided to write a story of my own where the woman saved the man.
The picture I selected was done so very carefully.  Joan of Arc was a famous warrior in France in the 15th century, and I likened my character, Maya, to her.  The picture (painting) is of Joan in her battle gear, very similar to what I pictured Maya wearing.  They both were also loyal to their country, and they only wanted the best, gender norms aside.

Bibliography.  This story, The Felon Demon, comes from a compilation of short stories, Indian Fables and Folklore, by Shovona Devi in the year 1919.

Week 9 Storytelling: A Goblin Gone Good

Author's Note. The story was inspired by the happenings of the short story The Goblin and the Sneeze.  A goblin lives in an old house and eats anyone who sneezes.  The only way to stop the goblin is for someone to say "God bless you" and then the sneezer has to say "The same to you!"  One day a father and son realized they must stay in the abandoned house because they had to wait until dawn to enter the city.  The goblin stirs up dust to force one to sneeze and the father began sneezing sporadically.  As the goblin goes in to kill the father, the son sees the goblin and yells "God bless you!" and the father returns with "the same to you!"  The goblin is hungry so he comes out angry.  The son does not react with hatred or mistreatment, but instead is kind to the goblin.  He suggests he come with the father and son and be a decent person.

Now comes the next story!  It is the continuation of the father, son, and goblin and where they go from here.

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The son grabbed the goblin's hand.  Gobby looked up at his new friend, a tear in his eye.  The three got up to the gate and the security guard stopped them quickly. 

"He can't come in here!" the security guard yelled with a finger pointed towards the city.  His eyes were red and fuming, for he had heard the stories of the goblin.

"It is okay, my friend! He is a changed goblin; he no longer wants to hurt people!" the son pleaded with the guard.  Gobby smiled as big as he could with his crooked and yellow stained teeth showing fully.  The guard grimaced and then looked away.

"He is your complete responsibility." The guard pointed at the son and father.  "If he so much as kills a kitten it is completely on you."  This was unnerving to the father, but the son agreed promptly and did not hesitate to take blame for any troubles his new friend could cause.

The guard opened the gate slowly and motioned for the three to enter into the city.

Gobby did exactly as he said he would.  He held hands with both the son and father, and they walked merrily along the paved main road.  They came across little shops, food carts, and salesman throughout the streets.  They hadn't realized it, but suddenly the streets were very full of other customers.  The father purchased three giant, juicy apples and they each ate one on a quiet curb. 

The father, the goblin, and the son from The Goblin and the Sneeze

Suddenly, Gobby heard something he thought he had put behind him.

"Aaachoooooo!" sneezed the donkey tied to the eggs and chickens cart.  Gobby's eyes started burning, and his fingers curled.  He took a few more bites of the apple trying not to draw attention to himself.  

"I have to go to the bathroom," Gobby announced as he stood up.  He had eaten the entire apple, even the core.  "I will just run to that alley right over there and be right back."  He pointed to a small opening between carts about a hundred feet away.  Before he could hear an answer, he hurriedly rushed toward the alley... and the donkey.  

With a quick flick of his sharp claw he cut the rope tying the donkey to the cart.  He discreetly pulled the rope behind his back towards the empty alley.  In a matter of seconds he was standing on the donkey's back, ready to take the first glorious bite of flesh he had tasted in months.  He dug his claws in and as his face got closer he felt a sudden pain in his neck.  He could no longer move.  Wait, no, he was spinning.  It was dark.  Gobby blinked.  He was on the ground, sideways.  So dark...

"Well, you didn't have to go to quite that length," the son yelled as he turned the corner just in time to see his father standing over the lifeless Gobby. "Maybe stopping him with your hands could have helped him learn better than cutting off his head!"

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Author's Note, continued. I did not want to give away what was going to happen in the initial author's note, but I felt it was important to explain the story beforehand.  The original story ends where the son, father, and goblin go about their merry way because the son changed him to be good.
The stories in "The Giant Crab, and Other Tales from Old India" are painfully sad.  The majority of the characters end up dying a gruesome death because of their foolishness.  I really enjoy happily ever afters, so this was a branch out for me.  This story was one of the few with a happy ending so I decided to rewrite it to match the rest.
The picture I chose came from the book listed above.  I wrote the part of the story where they enter the city to look like the picture depicted.

Bibliography. This short story is called The Goblin and the Sneeze and it comes from the book The Giant Crab, and Other Tales from Old India written by W. H. D. Rouse and illustrated by W. Robinson in 1897.

Week 7 Storytelling: Pandavia

I held momma’s hand tight as we walked under the giant arch. This new city, Pandavia, had streets of gold with shiny things white and clear everywhere. I bent down to pick one up but they were stuck in the ground! I let go of momma’s hand and dropped to the ground to get a closer look. 

“Momma! Papa! Look at all the shiny rocks!” I screamed.

“How beautiful! They are diamonds and pearls, my son.” Mother grabbed my hand gently and pulled me closer to the cart. We had to be close, right? My feet were so tired. We had been walking for AN HOUR and I just couldn’t take it anymore.

Following the shiny road even further, we walked under what looked like a horseshoe but bigger than life! The two legs of the horseshoe were on each side of the road. Letters! They were in line across the top of the upside-down horseshoe. 

An arch in India similar to the one the boy sees (Wiki)

“Pandavia,” Papa stood still, staring at the letters in the sky. That must be what it says. People behind us were getting closer, so we kept walking. The palace looked like it popped up right out of one of my nightly storybooks. I’ve never seen anything so pretty! There are so many colors! Smiling people with big soft colorful robes walked towards us. A purple robe man in the group embraced papa, and momma began crying.

“What is going on…” I whispered loudly, staring. Papa started following the purple robe man and momma and I were right behind. The sun was getting warmer as we continued walking. To my left, a girl and her family walking with a yellow robe man. I waved at her and she waved back, and then they went down a different road. Ahead of us were rows and rows of giant carts bigger than our old house! They were filled with oranges, grapes, apples, watermelons, cucumbers, broccoli, kiwi, and every other kind of food I’ve ever known and even more!

We passed the carts and came upon a house fit for a king. The purple robe man walked up to the door and turned the key. I dropped momma’s hand and ran inside first faster than a jackrabbit.

The colors! Reds and blues and purples and yellows! The fabric on the windows was more beautiful that his mother’s finest dress, and it was tied back on each side with gold string! We toured the entire house, and I got to pick a room to be my very own. I just know we will be happy here. I love Pandavia!

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Author’s Note. For this storytelling, I wanted to show the Pandavas city (which I renamed Pandavia from the Mahabharata’s Indraprastha) from the eyes of a child. In this story, a boy and his mother and father are in the caravan of families moving from Hastinapura to Pandavia. The walk the streets of gold, and move into their house fit for a king.

The idea for this story came from the detailed description in the Mahabharata. As I was reading, I pictured myself walking into this heavenly sight. Even better, through the eyes of an innocent child. A child does not see riches, but he does see beauty.


Bibliography. Epified TV in India by unknown authors. The series began in April 2015.

Week 6 Storytelling: Uttarai's Sacrifice

An Indian Wedding (Wiki)

Author’s Note. The origin of this story idea came from R.K. Narayan’s The Mahabharata. When Virata finds out that the men who have been working for him are the five Pandavas, he suddenly promises his daughter, Uttarai, to Arjuna’s son, Abhumanyu. After the nuptials, nothing more is spoken of her until the end of the epic where her son becomes the sole heir to the Pandavas. I decided to embellish on her life (and make her a little modern).  I got the idea while reading The Mahabharata and noting to myself that I didn't think it fair that the king just promised her off in a moment's notice.

In my storytelling, Uttarai does not want to marry Abhimanyu, for she loves another man. She is stubborn but wise (as you will see), and ultimately believes her father only wants the best for her.  Will she get what she wants? Or will she obey?

The picture I have selected is of a modern Indian wedding. I could not find much information on ancient wedding ceremonies, so I was a little confused on what to write when I got to the actual wedding part. Hopefully I have done this amazing culture its due justice.

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A Wedding

“I just don’t think this is fair!” Uttarai stomped over to the dressing stage. Uttarai’s maid, Jen, walked over to grab the royal dress of the day.

”Uttarai, you knew this day would come. Why are you surprised? You know it is the tradition of our land to have the suitor of a woman chosen by her father.” Jen walked around Uttarai wrapping the sari around her.

After all of her morning preparations, Uttarai began walking through the garden alone to collect her thoughts. It was unfair that she had no say in who she was to marry. She didn’t even know this man and he was supposed to be her husband next week!

She heard a man’s voice and hid behind the massive bush of pink roses. Peering through a small hole, she saw the massive man talking with one of her father’s advisors. He was handsome. An innocent smile shone on her face, and then she remembered he couldn’t even see her. He leaned over and picked up Uttarai’s small dog. He pet him gently and spoke with silliness as one does with a child. Why couldn’t she be with him? He was perfect, and she wanted him.

“This is just unfair!” Uttarai stomped back to her dressing room. She wept on Jen’s lap until no more tears would come. She regained her composure and decided to go speak with her father.

Her father was sitting merrily on his grand chair in the dining hall for breaking fast.

“My dearest daughter, what is troubling you?” King Virata took another bite of his eggs.

“Oh Father! I believe you to be a just man. Please, Father, please do not make me marry Abhimanyu!” She fell at his feet and began crying once more.

”My love, my life,” Virata caressed her hair gently, “Abhimanyu is the grandson of a God. He is mighty at war, but kind in heart. He is respectful and knows no separation of persons. These are all the traits I ever wanted in the man I gave your hand. Please, sweet Uttarai, obey my command. It is not a punishment, but a reward!”

“Father, I will obey you, but I do not wish to meet him until the day we wed. I fear I will scare him off with my endless stream of tears.” Uttarai lifted her head. She now knew there was no other way; she had to marry a man she didn’t even know.

Three days later, the wedding party met in the marble hall. As promised, Uttarai did not attend, and Virata did not call for her.

Saturday came and it was time. Jen was the one weeping this time as she got Uttarai dressed. Today, they began much earlier than normal. Uttarai had accepted her fate. Jen was a mess, and she hugging Uttarai randomly and bowing every time she leaned back to take in her masterpiece.

Uttarai walked down the grand staircase. Oh no! There was the perfect man from the garden!

“Great,” she thought, “not only do I have to marry a man I don’t want to, but now I have to do so in front of the man I truly wanted!” Her seeming smile changed to a frown. Suddenly the man walked up to her and put his arm out.

“Hello, Princess Uttarai.” He bent down and kissed her hand. “I am Abhimanyu, and you are perfect.”



Bibliography: R.K. Narayan’s The Mahabharata written in 1978.

Week 5 Storytelling: A Woman in Exile

Draupadi's Diary

Day 1 of Year 1

I cannot believe What Yudhishthira has done to us, to me! Even after I saved him from his gambling addiction and convinced King Dhritarashtra to release us, he still returned once more to get us exiled…FOR THIRTEEN YEARS!!!


Day 14 of Year 1

We have been walking through this forest for quite some time now. My husbands are growing weary, as am I. I should not be living the life of a hermit, I am a royal! Yudhishthira has been trudging around for days now. No one will speak to him, and this is beginning to weigh on him. It is unfair for him to be labeled the leader just by being the oldest, but that is how society works.


Day 312 of Year 1

My time with Yudhishthira is coming to an end. I have finally released my underlying grudge for him by washing in the Ganga. I fasted for two days, and did nothing but pray. Upon leaving the glorious river, I felt like a new woman. I approached my husband and he noticed the change as well. He sent the others away so we could spend some happy time together. I have to start focusing on the positive.


Day 1 of Year 2

Today is my first day with Bhima. This is one of my least favorite parts of having five husbands. My relationship with Yudhishthira grew the most ever has in these last few months, and now I am supposed to forget it all and get reacquainted with the man I have not been with in four years! I truly love Bhima, so I will not complain. He was so excited to see me, to be with me, to be able to think of me all he wants again; I must not take this overflowing love for granted.


Day 1 of Year 3

Now it is Arjuna’s year. We as a caravan are getting very good at coming up with games to play, and things to do. There are blooms on the trees, and the birds sing such glorious songs. Though I am anxious for my husbands to defeat Duryodhana and his army so we may return to the throne, it is days like today that I understand the life of a hermit. Arjuna made us a picnic and we went alone to a beautiful green spot by the river flowing from the mountain. It was a wonderful way to start our year. Though I would never admit it aloud, Arjuna is my favorite husband to be with.


Day 1 of Year 4

Nakula was so anxious to attain me today that he had me blushing in front of everyone with his sweet words. Every year has gone by faster and faster. I do hope it slows down a little, because I don’t want my life to suddenly end because I was wishing it away.


Day 1 of Year 5

After this year, the cycle of my husband’s begins all over again. I am so ready to be with Sahadeva, for I love him dearly. Hopefully I will not bear a child while in this forest. We have moved once more to a beautiful area, but I am ready for the life I was supposed to live.

Draupadi and the five Pandavas (Wiki)

Author’s Note: I have not written a diary story before now, and to be honest I am not a huge fan. I couldn’t figure out how to add climax and resolution to the story, so for now it looks like I just filled in a few gaps in the 12 years I have read thus far. I got the idea to do a diary because I have read another student’s diary storytelling post and I really enjoyed it.

I chose to make Draupadi very stubborn in this diary. She had a right to be mad at Yudhishthira, but at many points she was completely blowing up. In The Mahabharata, she made numerous statements that basically stated she was severely being mistreated because she was supposed to be a royal and live in a palace. Based on what I have read thus far, she has always been pretty spoiled where ever she ends up.

The picture I have selected is of Draupadi and her five husbands.  I couldn't find one of her in exile.  I really enjoy this picture because it is all the main characters in her diary in one picture.


Bibliography: R.K. Narayan’s The Mahabharata written in 1978.

Week 4 Storytelling: Bharat, A Future Undecided

“My sweetest husband, I believe it is time to retire to the forest,” Shakuntala said gently to Dushmanta, her husband of twenty years.

“Though I enjoy the life of the palace, a hermitage is my home, and my aging body yearns for it,” she continued.

“For you, my dearest wife, I would do anything. But how should we know if our offspring is ready for the heavy duties of a king? How will we know if it is still too much for him? What if he is an unjust King, how will I live?” Dushmanta emotionally asked.

“We will test him.” Shakuntala stated, as if a light had come on, for she glowed with the essence of her idea.

“I’ve got it!” he yelled. “We will see if it is his heart of gold he will lead with, or if he has selfish intentions. We will send him to Jabro, the poorest area of our city, and put him with a harsh servant who does not do all he asks, as he is used to. She will be our eyes; only then will we see the true heart our son possesses.”

“Very well, my greatest, see it through,” Shakuntala stated, after pondering idea. It seemed harsh, but in the end, it truly would test his temper, as well as his compassion for others.

So Dushmanta went to his favorite nurse, Jana, and asked if she knew anyone that would be fit to fulfill this deed. As it would be, she did: a fellow nurse by the name of Seila. She was an older woman, but not frail. She was strong and level-headed. Dushmanta and Shakuntala met with Seila and explained all they needed from her. She feared them initially (because of their royal status), but she realized by the end that all they wanted was to know that their son was truly ready to rule a kingdom.

The following week Bharat showed up to the home he would be staying at while conducting royal duties his father set for him. When he got out of the chariot he stood curiously at the door, and read the name of the inn repeatedly. It was nothing more than a shack, and he wondered if someone even lived there. Nevertheless, he decided to go in.

“Hello? Is anyone here? I was told I am to be expected.  My name is Bharat,” he stated as he walked through the door. His eyes widened.  The decor did not improve from outside to in; it actually got worse!

“I am Seila. And look here! You didn’t even wipe your shoes off!” a woman smarled as she turned the corner. “Go through that door there and set your stuff down, and then please come help me wash up for dinner.” She pointed to a sheet on the wall over a hole that Bharat could only assume was the door spoken of.

“Madam…” Bharat began, but he soon decided it was not worth the words. He did not believe she meant to be harsh, but rather, firm. He was about to remind her who he was, but he wanted to see how the night went. He set his belongings on the cot and returned to the main room.

Seila put a pot of chicken on the kindled fire. “Please finish the washing of these dishes and when you’re done let’s head to the river for the some cool drinks.” 

Bharat considered what his father and mother would do in this situation. Despite the small fire brewing inside him, he realized that she had lived a life much harder than his, and she deserved to be a little bitter. Maybe he could help her out.

Finally, he walked over to the grand pot with dirty dishes in it and began cleaning them.

"I must find a way to help this woman," he thought to himself. "What can I do to show her that we, the royal family, still care for her?"

Bharat and Seila cleaned and cooked in silence, until Bharat broke had an idea.

“Dearest Seila, it is clear you have lived a hard and tiresome life, but you have stayed devoted to your King through it all. For that, I want to give you my favorite ring.” He removed the diamond-encrusted gold band from his finger, and placed it in her palm.

She stood wide-eyed, in shock. She did not expect this at all.

From the moment Dushmanta and Shakuntala found out their son’s great reverence, they knew his purity of heart was true. Dushmanta made Bharat the King, and his reign was peaceful.  He was such a great king that the country of India still bears his name today.

Indian King (Wikipedia)

Author's Note. This story is a small piece of a larger story, with the main piece coming from Nine Ideal Indian Women: Sita, Promila, and Shakuntala.  This idea came from the third story, Shakuntala.  I was so entranced during this story that I'm not sure if I blinked the whole way through!   I enjoyed the plot and story line too much, so I decided not to make any changes to those.  Instead, I decided to add a little fill where there was nothing more than a paragraph (the one at the end where Bharat suddenly grows up, becomes king, and has a great reign).  

The ring in this story was not selected by chance; in the story of Shakuntala and Dushmanta, Dushmanata married Shakuntala in the forest and gives her a ring so his men could come back and get her.  He became cursed to forget the one he loved until a token of his love (the ring!) was shown to him.  Shakuntala lost it, and Dushmanta did not recognize her when she went to find him while very pregnant with their son, Bharat.  A few years later, some fisherman find the ring and it is returned to Dushmanta.  Once he sees the ring, he realizes what he had done and he finds Shakuntala and Bharat.  Later in life, Dushmanta gave this ring to Bharat.  This is why this ring is so important!  

The picture I selected was done so very carefully.  I did many searches for both Bharat and Shakuntala, where I almost always attained the same few pictures that I had already seen (though they didn't fit the idea I had in my head).  I finally got the idea to look up Indian Kings, and I went through a few before I found a picture of one I thought looked noble enough to look similar to the gentle King Bharat.  If you want to read more about King Shivaji (pictured), see here.

Bibliography. This story's characters come from Nine Ideal Indian Women: Sita, Promila, and Shakuntala by Sunity Devee in 1919.

Week 2 Storytelling: The Golden Shoes

“Today, I think they need a good wax,” the chief caretaker told Sami.

“Yes, sir,” he responded, hiding the annoyance in his voice.

"They’re just shoes!!!" he yelled in his head, "They cannot rule a nation, a territory, a kingdom, and they sure can’t rule me!"

Like previous times he was angry about the golden shoes, he knew it would pass when the paycheck came. He knew he had a much easier job than most. Many considered him lucky, for he toiled indoors in a temperate palace with few tasks to even callous his hands. Ayodhya was, after all, one of the top five places to live in “Ramayana, Real Estate.” 

He thought of his wife, Jasmine, and frowned.  How could he ever complain when she was in the mill by the river.  She always came home covered head to toe in flour, and she smelled of manure.  It was so hard on her muscles and joints.  He decided he needed to stop whining about his job.

He grabbed a new cloth, as he always did. The shoes were too precious for a used one, and he would be punished if they saw him using one. He had never met this Rama, but Sami wasn’t sure if he believed all the God-like characteristics he possessed.

He never lied? He walked away when told to go into exile? He broke a God’s bow?! Doubt it. That Sita sure was beautiful though, so he must have done something right.

Sami rubbed the shoes feverishly, but careful not to harm them. After all, they still had thirteen years on the throne, and he wanted to be there for all of it.

“I wish this job were easier,” he muttered quietly under his breath. Suddenly, his arm felt stronger. It was as if something magical had happened while he cleaned; doing the exact same thing became easier when he said so!

"It must be coincidence…" he thought to himself. "There is no way these shoes are magic, is there?"  He pushed the sleeves up on his shirt and began flexing, looking at his reflection in the perfectly polished golden throne behind the shoes.  

"WOW," he thought, "I could get used to this!"

"I wish I would never die!"  he whispered loudly while rubbing the shoes, and then turned his back quickly to make sure no one was behind him.  Coast was clear.  He quickly checked the front and back of hands wide-eyed, then realized he probably wouldn't notice anything from that wish for quite some time. 

"Hmmmmm," he thought, "I should have thought that through a little better."  He decided to try again, but this time he would wish for something that could happen instantly.

“I wish I had more money,” he whispered next. At first, it seemed nothing happened. Then, suddenly, his brother came walking in, with an armed guard following. He had sorrow on his face, and tears in his eyes.

”Your wife…Jasmine... Sami… She…. I… They couldn’t stop it…” Sami’s brother choked out between sobs.

“Brother! Tell me!” Sami screamed.

“She was pulled into the mill, Sami, they couldn't stop it, she is gone,” he said somberly, head down.

The guard walked up in tune with the situation, as if he were going to fix it all.

“Here is wages she would have made for five years. It is the least we can do,” the guard stated.

Sami couldn’t breathe. What must he have done to deserve such a punishing karma?

From that day on, Sami swore to never wish upon the sandals again.

He lived until the end of time, unable to die, or be killed, which was a curse he would never wish on anyone.

Rama, Bharata, and the Golden Sandals

Author's Note. This story is a tangent to Section 24 in the PDE Ramayana where Bharata put sandals on Rama’s feet, and then sent them back to Ayodhya to become the place-holder for Rama when he returns to be king. In this story, a worker in Ayodhya has to tend to the gold shoes.  
The worker is not ever mentioned in any of the Ramayana, but I got the idea when Bharata said they would sit on the throne waiting for Rama.  I immediately pictured them losing their shine and perfection, so it only made sense to put someone over them to tend to them.  The story has no definitive place in the main story, so it gave me a lot of leeway when deciding my characters, their story, and the plot.  This is the main reason I went with this one. 
The image I have selected for "The Golden Shoes" is Bharata when he is putting the golden shoes on Rama before he takes them back to Ayodya.  It gives the perfect symbolism of Bharata putting himself beneath Rama by saving the throne for him, because in the picture he is kneeling at Rama's feet looking up, while Rama is looking down at him.

Bibliography. This is based on Section 24 of the PDE Ramayana.

Week 1 Storytelling: Young Love

Curly locks! curly locks! wilt thou be mine?

Thou shalt not wash dishes, nor yet feed the swine,

But sit on a cushion and sew a fine seam,

And feed upon strawberries, sugar, and cream!

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RIINNGGGGG!!!

The school bell yelled throughout the room. John stood up and gathered his belongings, anxious to get home to his pig, Rover.  As he passed the last desk, he caught wind of her magical perfume.  He knew.  He knew exactly where it came from: Mary Ann Higgins.  The most beautiful girl in the world. 

She glanced his way and he looked away hastily, as he realized he was staring.  Isn’t she used to it?  Someone as sweet and perfect as her must attract a crowd.

He walked over to her, palms sweating, “H-Hey Mary, I was wondering if you’d like to get an ice cream?” All his after school plans were long gone, because he was looking his future in the eyes.  He wouldn’t have believed the words came out of his own mouth if he hadn’t heard them too.

“Well Johny Boy, I could do that,” she said with a nod and a grin.  Her angelic golden curls bounced with the shake of her head.  He was shocked.  She was a woman of power and leisure, and with a father like Mayor Higgins, John knew he was walking a dangerous line.  He couldn’t picture must past this date, so he’d just have to savor every second.

A boy and girl featured in The Nursery Rhyme Book (1897) found on Project Gutenberg.

To his (and everyone else’s) surprise, they began courting just a few months later.  Mayor Higgins liked John Rollins, but he did NOT want his daughter feeding that infamous pig, or being his little maid, washing his dishes and such.  No, he would have to test him.  If he passed, he could have Mary; if not, he would be sure their courtship was shattered, by his own hand no less. 

One frigid night, Mayor Higgins dressed up as a beggar, roaming the streets of the very town he ran, Hamilton.

Knock! Knock! Knock! The mayor’s plan was in full swing.  John answered swiftly, with a wool blanket wrapped around him to combat the frozen air. 

“Sir, could you spare a crumb? Or a sock?” mayor muttered in his most unfamiliar voice, “it is dreadfully cold, and I don’t believe I’ll make it through the night!”

John stared blankly for a moment.  He remembered how warm he was; how he felt as though he was hugging a polar bear in a blizzard.  Not a moment later, he unwrapped the blanket and put it on the hunched frail man.  He needed it more. 

“Well don’t just stand there! Come in!  I’ve prepared stew for me and Rover, but I do believe split three ways is sparse different from two,” John exclaimed.  Mayor walked inside and let John close the door.  He suddenly threw off the blanket, along with his wig and rags, revealing his true persona: Mayor Higgins.

“Sir! I’m so sorry! I didn’t recognize you! I-I-I.....” —

—“Son, I have never been more impressed than I am right now.  You exhibited exactly what I want to see in the man who marries my precious Mary.  I not only approve of your pending engagement, but I’d like to offer you something extra special.  How would you like to be the Sherriff? It’s the second highest paying job in the town, second only to me, of course.” He said with a chuckle.

John stared at the mayor, in complete shock.  He thought he was just helping an innocent man in need of a helping hand. 

John rode to Mary’s house at first light, ecstatic to tell her the news.

“Mary! Mary! Before you say anything, just listen!  I have loved you from the moment I laid eyes on you.  Your heavenly curls and beautiful heart are all I want to enjoy for the rest of my life.  And I know you’ve been worried about money, and not wanting to live in poverty, but that won’t happen!  I have it all figured out!  You can do your sewing you like so much, and eat all the desserts your heart fancies! What I’m really asking here is, will you be mine?”

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Author's Note. The poem above is very short, and gives no reference to who is speaking or what they are talking about.  This was my favorite part, because it gave me full reigns on where to go with the story.  Also, just like the poem, I left my ending completely open to interpretation.  The story of John and Mary came to mind by picturing a man in the 1800's, and wondering why he would be saying the words in the poem.  I hope you enjoyed!

Bibliography. This story is based on the nursery rhyme "Curly lock! Curly Locks!" in The Nursery Rhyme Book, edited by Andrew Lang and illustrated by L. Leslie Brooke (1897).