Storytelling, Ganga, Week 7

Ganga and Shantanu 1890

By:Raja Ravi Varma

I was riding through the forest one afternoon when I came across a beautiful woman. Immediately, I just knew that she was the person I wanted to be with for the rest of my life. I asked her if she would marry me and she replied, “I will marry you, but you must make a solemn vow to me this day that you will neither ask me from where I come, or question whatever action I take in the future”. 

I thought the vow was unusual but agreed. She made me very happy, we seemed to enjoy our life together. Time past and Ganga became pregnant. I was very excited about being a father. I started to think about all the things we would do together.

One warm early evening, just before dusk, I could hear in the distance, a woman chanting a mantra never heard before with human ears. I couldn’t comprehend the sounds of her voice. Is this sound of beauty or fear? Frantically I raced up the hill to see, in the distance, a woman calling to the heavens drunk on laughter and eyes wild as fire. She is holding a baby in the air and singing in a foreign tongue.

“It is Ganga” I thought to myself. “Please, be careful with our son”, I faintly whispered. I knew I could not let her hear the words. She was too far away to hear me from this distance. I stood paralyzed with fear for my son and this strange display I was watching from my wife. Immediately as I uttered the words, as if she heard what I said, she turned in my direction and smiled. Directly behind her a thunderstorm threw approving lighting strikes to mark the day. She never dropped her gaze off of me when she tossed our son into the water with amazing strength. She laughed insanely and chanted the foreign sounds that brought me to this place. Then she stopped and began walking toward me in a taunting way, clearly proud of what she had done carrying a soft smile.

Staring deeply into my eyes Ganga said, “good morning my love, you should take shelter, a storm brews on the horizon”. Her voice trailed off.

I thought to myself, “Is she crazy”?

As if she could read my mind, she whipped around and coldly stared into my eyes. She regained that wild-eyed look I just saw from the banks of the Ganges. In a daring tone she said,” Did you have something you wanted to say”? Her head tilted to the side a bit as her soft smile drained from her face. No expression left but the cold black eyes staring directly through me. I felt like I was insignificant for a moment. 

I trembled with fear and anger from the shock of the loss just suffered. Then I remembered my vow, and countenance left me. The color leaving my body and ice poured into my veins as I numbly uttered, “No my love, I have no query”. I started at the horizon over the river Ganges.

She smirked and waited for me to walk away from her. I told myself  that I would never follow the sounds of her song again. As the days rolled on, I grew very happy with my wife. She had been my idea of the perfect wife except for occasionally killing every child that she had birthed. I was heartbroken at the thought that I would have no heir to my thrown. Yet, I loved my wife more than life itself. We had our eighth son and I heard my wife begin to sing that beautiful song of horror.

I ran to her, blocking the path for her to get to the Ganges River.

Ganga smiled softly, “Something vexes you my love”?

“Yes, you evil woman”! “How can you kill our children like this”?

She laughed ferociously, “You worked so hard at keeping your vow to me, but now you have broken it. I will tell you the story now”.

A sage known as Vashishtha was meditating one day, when the attendants of Indra past between he and the sun. It aggravated the sage so he cursed them saying, “Be born among men”.

“The seven sons that I have thrown into the river are now back where they belong, in their celestial forms. They have overcome the curse by fulfilling the words uttered against them. The eighth child will remain here with you. Our son has one-eight of the power from each of the Vasus. Combined with his own birth, he will have quite a few gifts”, Ganga said with authority. "and now, my love, the marriage vow broken between you and I completes my obligation to you",then she disappeared.

Authors Note:

I just took the story and used a perspective from the King. I started writing it in another person perspective, then it seemed like it would be cool to tell the story from the perspective of the King. After I changed everything, I do not like how often I used the word I. Not exactly sure how to change it without rewriting the whole story. Any ideas on how I could have improved that part?

Bibliography: Public Domain Marhabrata