Hanuman and the Curse

Statue of Hanuman in Haladiagada, Kendrapada, Orissa, India.

Photograph taken by Sujit Kumar (2007).

When Hanuman promised to remain on earth as long as Rama’s story was told, he didn’t expect it to be repeated quite so much. It took but a few years before he determined that the Ramayana would be told long after the Himalayas had crumbled into dust and India had sunk into the ocean. He wasn’t entirely enthusiastic about this. He enjoyed life but one can only eat so much fruit before getting sick of it. After several millennia, having exhausted whatever pleasures he could gain from food, he moved onto pranks and tricks. He would throw papayas, mangos, and pears at whoever happened to pass by.

One day, while lounging on a tree branch, Hanuman woke to the sound of footsteps. They were coming from down the path and getting louder. Through the foliage, Hanuman soon spied a hooded man making his way down the path. This traveler was muttering some prayer. Without hesitation, Hanuman picked up a half-eaten mango, aimed it at the man’s head, and threw it as hard as possible.

The mango hit its mark and the man let loose a flurry of expletives. Hanuman soon saw that this was a very old man with a long, gray beard. The monkey now felt some remorse at his actions. Had he known the passer-by was a decrepit old man, he would have thrown something smaller. Hanuman leapt down from the tree branch and went up to him to apologize.

Before Hanuman could speak, the man said to him, “Do you normally throw things at passers-by?”

Hanuman replied, “Living out here can get pretty boring.”

“I’m sure this is the best way to deal with it,” the man said sarcastically, rubbing the bump on his head. “Since you obviously don’t care much about your fellow creatures, I’m placing a curse on you. Maybe then you’ll stop throwing fruit at people’s heads.”

“Oh no. Please don’t!”

“Apparently, I have to. As you may have heard, there are brothers by the name of Pandava who have been wandering these parts for several years. You will remain in this very clearing until one of them should tug on your tail.”

“Great. At this rate, I’ll never leave earth.”

It dawned on the old man that he wasn’t talking to just any monkey. “You must be Hanuman! I’d love to hear of Rama and his great deeds.”

“I will, but only if you break that curse once I’m done telling the story.”

The old man was just about to reply when an enormous rakshasa ran into the clearing. Both Hanuman and the man were frightened. The old man, contrary to Hanuman’s preconceptions, hadn’t any magical powers. He was but a simple villager and nearly powerless against the demon. The rakshasa picked this old man up and swallowed him whole. Hanuman could hear the old man’s cries from inside the demon’s stomach.

“Help me! Help me!” the man cried.

Hanuman tried to leap back into the forest but the old man’s curse held and he couldn’t leave the clearing. He thought he would die. However, he soon realized the implications of his promise. If he was to remain on earth until the Ramayana was no longer told, he likely couldn’t be killed. And if he couldn’t leave the clearing, the rakshasa couldn’t take him away. Hanuman gathered up some of rocks nearby and began to toss them at the rakshasa. The demon seemed annoyed, but it didn’t go away. Hanuman realized that he would have to fight the demon barehanded. He punched, kicked, bit, and scratched the demon with all his might. The rakshasa soon swallowed him whole.

The inside of the demon’s stomach smelled of putrid meats of unknown origin.

“Disgusting!” cried Hanuman. He nearly retched.

From somewhere else in the stomach, he heard the old man cry, “Hanuman, is that you?”

“Old man?” Hanuman replied. “You’re still alive?”

“From what I could hear, you fought very bravely,” the man said.

“Thank you, but this fight isn’t over.”

The rakshasa tried to run back into the jungle but an enormous weight in its stomach stopped it. It couldn’t move out of the clearing. To add to the rakshasa’s troubles, Hanuman began to scrape and bite at the demon’s stomach. The monster made a horrible cry. Hanuman tore a hole in the stomach and all of its contents spilled out.

After giving the dead rakshasa a good kick in the head, the old man thanked Hanuman profusely. He said to the monkey, “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Yes, lift this curse.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, but a curse can’t be lifted by the person who cast it. It will only be lifted until its terms have been fulfilled.”

“Great. Well, thanks. I guess you can go now.”

“I will still do something for you. I am a carpenter. I will build you a great house and there you will be able to move about as you wish. It’s the least I can do.”

The old man brought his sons and neighbors over to the clearing. There, they worked night and day to build Hanuman as elaborate a house as they could possibly build. Thus began a tradition among the local villagers to visit Hanuman each day and give him as many fine foods as he could eat. In turn, Hanuman told them the story of Rama, of the prince’s strength and of his wisdom. Hanuman eventually tired of the house. Hanuman appreciated the villagers’ attentions, but he soon tired of the house. Again and again he would try to find some way out of the clearing. He became extraordinarily sad. One day, while Hanuman sat in the middle of the road, contemplating all that had happened in his life, he felt a tug at his tail.

Author’s Note

Like some of my other stories, I decided to focus this narrative on someone who plays a rather minor role in the their epic. Hanuman is different, though, in that he plays a minor role in the Mahabharata but is very important in the Ramayana. In the Ramayana, Hanuman is important because he brings to Rama a mountain with magic herbs. These herbs help heal Rama’s soldiers. Without Hanuman’s help, it’s unlikely that Rama would have been able to defeat Ravana.

Hanuman has a rather distinct personality. He is known as a trickster. When he was a child, Hanuman tended to mess with those sages who lived in the forest. While I didn’t know about his reputation as a trickster prior to writing my story, it now seems only natural that he should while away the hours by tossing fruit at passers-by.

Of course, this story isn’t set just within the timeframe of the Mahabharata. It spans that time period from shortly after the events of the Ramayana to Bhima’s time in the forest. I thought that it would be interesting to provide some information about how Hanuman spent that time between the two epics.

Bibliography

Quora. “What fruit grows in India?”

Various authors. The Mahabharata (public domain).

Various authors. The Ramayana (public domain).

Wikipedia. "Hanuman"

Week 8 Growth Mindset

Motivational poster from Goal Setting Guide

In college, I’ve found that I tend towards highly structured subjects. Classes such as economics and calculus tend to be easier to study than, say, a class on Chekhov or British literature. This is largely because economics and calculus require that I learn the fundamental concepts and build on those. In other words, I can’t learn about basic supply and demand concepts and move immediately to econometrics.

What makes classes such as this (Epics of India) different is that I often have to come up with something completely new, rather than following very specific instructions to reach one number or one precisely worded answer. The weekly storytelling posts are a great example of this. While I do get some source material to work with, I can’t apply a formula and get the answer. It takes a lot of imaginative/literary thinking in order to complete the assignment and produce a full story.

Entering this class, I thought that I’d be terrible at pulling ideas out of thin air. There have been a few weeks when it took a lot of time to come up with an idea for an assignment, but I’ve found that I can come up with decent ideas much faster than before. I remember agonizing over the very first storytelling assignment of this class. Now, it seems that I can find an interesting perspective in the source material and expand on it within my own story.

This isn’t the only improvement I’ve made. In addition to coming up with stories faster, I’ve found that I can better analyze the stories we read. In other literature classes, I was able to come up with only a few interesting points. Having spent so much time writing notes over the Ramayana, the Mahabharata, and other stories, I’ve found that I can provide notes on, not only my opinion of characters, but of potential threads and trends throughout the story.

I used to think that I was almost hopeless when it came to literary analysis. The fact that I felt so hopeless probably stopped me from taking more literature classes. All it took to improve this skill and give me more confidence in these sort of open-ended assignments was trying. I’m more than glad I took this class. It’s made me try harder at something I thought I hadn’t much aptitude for. In order to improve this skill further, I plan to read those stories that don’t seem (at first) to offer easy adaptations. For example, a story with limited characters is more likely to prove difficult to adapt than one with dozens. This isn’t such a large change now that I’ve written several adaptations of the epics, but it’ll still make a large difference.

Week 8 Reflections

The Tortoise is carried away by the Geese. Illustration by E. Boyd Smith. Published in The Tortoise and the Geese and Other Fables of Bidpai by Maude Barrows Dutton (1908).

Reading

I think that I have been making good choices in terms of my reading. While I’m sure I’d enjoy the Narayan versions of the Ramayana and Mahabharata, picking the public domain versions allowed me to get an idea of how different the storytelling styles are. Reading the lyrical versions of these two epics is likely more authentic, in that the stories were likely told as songs, just like The Odyssey or The Iliad.

I have to admit that the sheer number of names and places of the Mahabharata made it difficult to follow along. For this and other reasons, I preferred the Ramayana. The Ramayana, in being focused on a smaller number of characters, seemed to be able to provide a more intimate account of the people involved. I could more easily image how Rama would react to events than Arjuna. I tend to read books that are focused on small sets of characters rather than huge set pieces and (literal) armies of characters. This makes my preference for the Ramayana less surprising.

When I read books that aren’t part of a school assignment or a class, I rarely take notes. This is half the result of a disinclination towards doing so and half not wanting to write on a book. The latter used to seem almost sacrilegious. It took a lot of English and literature classes before I started to take good notes that were more than just vague statements. While I don’t take notes on a regular when it comes to my free-time reading, I find myself critically analyzing small passages and thinking about them a lot more as I continue on in the book.

The note that I’m taking in this class are really helping. Rather than writing my thoughts after I’ve read the passages for that day or that week, I take notes whenever some line or some situation intrigues me. In this way, I can record my more precise thoughts on the story, rather giving my general feelings about it. In addition, these more precise notes allow me to come up with story ideas based on relatively minor events (such as Arjuna and Hanuman’s meeting). I can look back at my notes and use an idea that I’ve written about to create a story.

I intend to focus my reading efforts on folktales. While great kings and warriors are all well and good, I’d like to read more of those stories that relate to those of more humble origins. In reading these folktales, I’d get a perspective of the royalty and of the commoners. The specific tales I’d focus on are the Hindu legends, such as Dutton’s Fables of Bidpai.

Hanuman and the Curse

Statue of Hanuman in Haladiagada, Kendrapada, Orissa, India.

Photograph taken by Sujit Kumar (2007).

When Hanuman promised to remain on earth as long as Rama’s story was told, he didn’t expect it to be repeated quite so much. He soon figured that the Ramayana would be told long after the Himalayas had crumbled into dust and India had sunk into the ocean. Needless to say, he wasn’t completely enthusiastic about this. He enjoyed life, for the most part, but one can only eat so much fruit before getting sick of it. After several millennia, having exhausted whatever pleasures he could gain from food, he moved onto pranks and tricks. To those wanderers who passed by his little hut, he would throw berries, oranges, and pears.

One day, while he was napping on a tree branch, Hanuman woke to the sound of footsteps. They were coming from down the path and getting louder. Soon Hanuman spied, through the foliage, a hunched figure making its way down the path. The figure was muttering some prayer. Hanuman thought for a moment and decided that, yes, he would pelt this traveler with fruit. Taking up a half-eaten apple, he aimed it at the figure’s head and threw it as hard as possible.

The apple hit its mark and the figure let loose a long series of expletives. When it turned to face the direction of the thrower, Hanuman saw that this figure was an old man with a long, gray beard. The monkey now felt some remorse at his actions. Had he known the passer-by was a decrepit old man, he would have thrown something smaller. Hanuman leapt down from the tree branch and went up to the man to apologize.

Before the monkey could speak, the man said to him, “Do you normally throw things at passers-by?”

Hanuman replied, “Living out here can get pretty boring.”

“Only a boring monkey can be bored,” the man said, angrily, rubbing the bump on his head.

“Boring? I’m not boring.”

“No, not for long.”

“What do you mean?” Hanuman asked.

“As you may have heard, there are brothers by the name of Pandava who have been wandering these parts for several years. You will remain in this very clearing until you have told the story of Rama to one of these brothers.”

“Really?” replied Hanuman. “I also have to stay here on earth until the story of Rama is no longer told.”

“Rama? You must be Hanuman! I’d love to hear of Rama and his great deeds.”

“I will, but only if you break that curse once I’m done telling the story.”

So Hanuman began to tell the old man Rama’s tale. He was just to the part about Jatayu’s death when an enormous rakshasa ran into the clearing. Both Hanuman and the old man were frightened. The old man, contrary to Hanuman’s preconceptions, hadn’t any magical powers. He was but a simple villager and nearly powerless against the demon. The rakshasa picked this old man up and swallowed him whole. Hanuman could hear the old man’s cries from inside the demon’s stomach.

“Help me! Help me!” the man cried.

Hanuman was frightened. If the rakshasa could eat a magical being, he himself had little chance of surviving. He tried to leap back into his tree but the old man’s curse held and he couldn’t move off the road. He thought he would die. However, he soon realized the implications of his promise. If he was to remain on earth until the Ramayana was no longer told, he likely couldn’t be killed. He gathered up some of rocks nearby and began to toss them at the rakshasa. The demon seemed annoyed, but it didn’t go away. Hanuman realized that he may have to fight the demon barehanded. He fought bravely against the rakshasa but was soon swallowed.

The inside of the rakshasa’s stomach smelled of putrid meats of unknown origin.

“Disgusting!” cried Hanuman. He nearly retched.

From somewhere else in the stomach, he heard the old man cry, “Hanuman, is that you?”

“I was swallowed, too.”

“From what I could hear, you fought very bravely.”

“Thank you, but this fight isn’t over.”

The rakshasa tried to run back into the jungle but it felt an enormous weight in its stomach stopping it. It couldn’t move out of the clearing. To add to the rakshasa’s troubles, Hanuman began to scrape and bite at the demon’s stomach. The monster made a horrible cry. Hanuman was soon able to tear a hole in the rakshasa’s stomach and all of its contents spilled out.

The old man thanked Hanuman profusely. He said to the monkey, “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Yes, lift this curse.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, but a curse can’t be lifted by the person who cast it. It will only be lifted until its terms have been fulfilled.”

“Great. Well, thanks. I guess you can go now.”

“I will still do something for you. I am a carpenter. I will build you a great house and there you will be able to move about as you wish.”

Hanuman lived in this house for several more centuries. He was lonely and bored and longed for the day when one of the Pandavas should meet him. One day, while he was sitting in the middle of the road, contemplating all that had happened in his life, he felt a strong tugging at his tail.

Author’s Note

Like some of my other stories, I decided to give a story to someone who, while serving a major role in the Ramayana, serves as more of a side character in the Mahabharata. In this case, that character is Hanuman. Hanuman plays an essential role in the Ramayana, in part because he brings to Rama a mountain with magic herbs, the latter of which allows Rama’s soldiers to be healed. Without Hanuman there to help, it’s unlikely that Rama would have been able to defeat Ravana. In the Mahabharata, Hanuman seems to take on the role of mentor more than he does the role of a soldier. In addition, Hanuman is known as a trickster and, when he was a child, tended to mess with those sages who lived in the forest. While I didn’t know prior to originally writing this story, it now seems only natural that he should while away the hours by tossing fruit at passers-by. Of course, this story isn’t set just within the timeframe of the Mahabharata. It spans that time period from shortly after the events of the Ramayana to Arjuna’s time in the forest. I thought that it would be interesting to provide some information about how Hanuman spent that time between the two epics.

Bibliography

Various authors. The Mahabharata (public domain).

Various authors. The Ramayana (public domain).

Wikipedia. "Hanuman."

Story: The Telling of Bhishma's Story

Vyasa dictates the Mahabharata to Ganesha. Statue at the Murudeshwara Temple, Karnataka, India. Artist unknown (n.d.).

Vyasa and Ganesha were sitting under a tree, discussing the whole of the Mahabharata. They had been sitting there for twelve years, but Ganesha interrupted so much that they hadn’t even gotten to the story of Shantanu.

“Well,” said Ganesha, “can you tell me about the whole Ganga, Bhishma, Shantanu affair? What do you think of that whole mess?”

“I don’t think so,” replied Vyasa. “Now when Shantanu tried to stop Ganga from drowning Bhishma, nearly everybody agreed that he had royally screwed up. You’re supposed to follow your vows. That’s how you maintain your honor.”

“A man who doesn’t keep his vows, no matter how difficult, is unlikely to receive much in the way of respect from others.”

“So Shantanu was lucky to have been a good king. If he was a mediocre king, he probably would have been laughed at behind his back.”

“Maybe he made up for his breaking of that vow to Ganga by becoming a good king.”

“Oh, he had always been a good king. A little hot-headed but nothing that age and experience wouldn’t fix.”

“Go on about Shantanu,” said Ganesha.

“Shantanu was angry at first when he saw her trying to drown her son.”

“Naturally. This was, what, the eighth child?”

“Something like that.”

“How could someone see that many children die without saying anything? I think that after the first infanticide, I’d voice my concerns.”

“But a vow is a vow. If Shantanu didn’t like the drowning, he shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Seriously? But child-drowning.”

“Hey, I don’t make the rules.” Vyasa shrugged his shoulders. “Once Shantanu had confronted his wife about that,” he continued, “she made clear to him that he had broken his vow. Shantanu was heartbroken when he realized the implications of what he’d done.”

“I’m sure.”

“He thought he would never see his son or his now wife again.”

“Did he?”

“We’ll get to that. Anyway, Ganga excoriated him for breaking his vow. This time, Shantanu didn’t try to defend himself. He could scarcely speak, so distraught was he. Ganga took their son and, rather than drowning him, decided to raise him to be a man. She knew somehow that this was no ordinary person. He was to be a great warrior.”

“A wise one too.”

“Of course. Everyone has heard of him. But few people know how he was raised.”

“How was he raised?” asked Ganesha.

“Don’t you think I’m going to tell you that? Why else have we been sitting here so long?”

“I’m sorry. Go on.”

“Anyway, Ganga took their son and lived with him out in the woods.”

“Like Rama and Sita.”

“Like Rama and Sita,” replied Vasya, exasperated.

“She taught him how to become an able warrior and how to perform penances to the gods, in case he should ever need to. He was a very devout boy. He prayed everyday. In addition, with his mother’s help, he was able to become a great warrior. More than once, in his youth, he had to fight off a rakshasa or a wild animal. Some say that he was able to thread a needle with an arrow from a mile away.”

“Do you believe that?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised. Bhishma and his mother didn’t live too far from civilization. A village sat a few miles away. Often, the villagers, knowing that there were very special people living in the forest, went to Bhishma and his mother and asked for their advice. Bhishma always gave a level-headed answer. He didn’t want to see anyone hurt or treated unjustly. In this way, he became an able jurist and could spot the crux of any predicament.”

“So he was wise and strong: the two most important qualities in a king.”

“If he had been a king, he would have done very well for himself and for his kingdom.”

“It’s a shame.”

“Yes, indeed, but what can one do? We all have our destinies.”

“What happened to Bhishma after he left the woods?”

“Well, you already know he left the woods eventually. He wasn’t a hermit forever. When Bhishma came of age, he was by then a tall, strapping warrior. Ganga knew it was time to present him to his father.”

“Tell me what happened then.”

“That’s a story for another day. It’s getting late.”

The sun was sinking low on the horizon and the air was growing cold. Vasya and Ganesha each took their leave. Ganesha was eager to hear the next part, while  Vasya was glad to finally get some shuteye.

Author’s Note

In this story, I wanted to provide a perspective similar to that of Sita Sings the Blues, an animated film adaptation of the Ramayana. While the gods seem to be all knowing, it is more interesting for me to see one of them (Ganesha) discuss the events of the Mahabharata with another important figure (Vasya). Because I based this story on one of the Amar Chitra Khan comic books, I had enough leeway to provide Bhishma with a childhood different from the one described in the Mahabharata. Like Rama, I gave him some trials and tribulations to go through, so that he could become a more able ruler and warrior. Rather than having Ganesha and Vyasa function smoothly as notetaker and storyteller, respectively, I decided to make Ganesha a rather difficult person to tell a story to. This creates a more interesting situation than if everything had been told smoothly without pauses.

Bibliography

Chandrakant, Kamala. “Bheeshma: Selflessness Personified” (Amar Chitra Katha, v. 534).

Paley, Nina. Sita Sings the Blues. 2008.

Various authors. Mahabharata (public domain).

Wikipedia. “Mahabharata.”

Reading Notes - Drona: Valiant Archer, Supreme Teacher

Drona's soul ascends to heaven, while body stays on earth (n.d.).

Artist unknown.

1. Drona is kind of like Moses in how he’s sent off on a river in a basket. Given these odd beginnings, he’ll likely go on to do amazing things.
2. There’s almost an immediate rivalry between Drona and Drupada. What will happen when they’re adults?
3. The two brothers are kind and humble. Drupada goes on to great things, but it remains to be seen whether he’ll retain this humility.
4. Aswatthama is an outcast and doesn’t appear too bright. Given that the other elders think little of Aswatthama, there’s probably some dissension in the ranks.
5. Drupada has screwed up. Not giving hospitality to people (in other words, lack of charity) is a terrible sin.
6. Drona is creating a plan of revenge. Acting hospitably towards guests is a great way of receiving their help.
7. Drona should help Ekalavya. Only helping certain pupils to a certain point (below Arjuna) will likely come back to bite him.
8. Drone might be a terrible person if he’s forcing people to give up their thumbs in order to train with him. What would have happened if Ekalavya had refused to cut off his thumb?
9. This loyalty to Drona seems reckless. Sure, Drupada refused him help, but that probably doesn’t mean he should be killed or have his throne taken.
10. Once again, reverence is an important part of receiving blessings from the celestial beings.
11. Attacking the defenseless is usually bad. Dhrishtadyumna has committed a foul deed and one that’ll have bad consequences.

Bibliography

Chandrakant, Kamala. “Drona: Valiant Archer, Supreme Teacher” (Amar Chitra Katha, v. 565).

Reading Notes - Bheeshma: Selflessness Personified

Bheeshma fighting Arjuna (n.d.).

Picture by Raja Ravi Varma.

1. I can understand not questioning your wife if she has customs strange to your own, such as in methods of worship, but how can you expect your husband to not say anything after you throw your children into the water and drown them? Shantanu seems justified in asking her about this.
2. Shantanu is an upstanding guy, but unusual circumstances lead him to act in an ultimately harmful manner.
3. Has Gangeya and his mother been waiting for Shantanu to arrive so that he can redeem himself in some way? How was Gangeya raised? What was his early childhood like?
4. Shantanu is rewarded, yet not fully. He deserved to have his son, even if his wife has to leave him.
5. Shantanu was about to make another risky promise. Characters are often well-intentioned, but they don’t fully predict the consequences of their actions.
6. Devavrata is clever and intelligent. He would probably make a good king, if he ever gets the chance.
7. Devavrata gives up his position for the happiness of his father. Devotion to family and respect for elders is extremely important.
8. Bheesma is a kind man in that he allows Amba to follow her heart, rather than any mandates.
9. Amba seems pretty ungrateful. Why wouldn’t she get mad at her lord/betrothed rather than Bheeshma? Bheeshma was quite nice.
10. The gods seem neutral at times concerning morality. They seem more concerned about how much you worship them than what you do to other people.
11. Amba is incredibly bloodthirsty, considering the fact that she burned herself alive in order to defeat Bheeshma.
12. Bheeshma is one of the few characters who feels incredible conflict between the two sides. In the Ramayana, the line between the good guys and the bad guys was pretty clear.

Bibliography

Chandrakant, Kamala. “Bheeshma: Selflessness Personified” (Amar Chitra Katha, v. 534).