Week Twelve Storytelling: A Father with Unknown Intentions

I could hear Vaayu’s wails even after I covered his mouth.  His warm tears would travel down his cheeks and touch my hands. I held him down as tightly as I could while he tried to squirm from beneath me.  I repeated to him,

“It won’t last long.  We are doing this for goddess Chandi.”

He tried to roll around and his small legs would kick. I then proceeded to cut him from limb to limb, with my large blade that I carried when I went doe hunting.  It was a prized possession of mine, a gift from my father the night that I became a man after I married my wife Hema.  After each kill I would slit the doe’s throat and wait to feel the spirit leave its body. I would watch the blood sprayed from its neck, and when it was done, I would taste the blood and that the god that blessed with such a beautiful kill.  Vaayu’s death would not be any different. I wanted my son to endure the same treatment.  Separating each body part, I would cut him from limb to limb. I threw his parts at different ends of the river leaving his head for last.  I smoothed his hair down as I gazed into the eyes that his mother gave him. His blood was of a sweet scent and he displayed much innocence. A year old he would be tomorrow, but I knew that I had to prove Hema wrong.  Who was she to claim that the goddess Chandi would always reverse the evil doings that happen on this earth? 

Sunrise Seen Through Forest [Manitou Springs]

I sat near the riverbank, and the sun started to creep in from the dark sky. I lay in the pool of my son's blood waiting for her Chandi to “bless” me with her presence.  Where was she when my mother died? Or when my sister lost her dear daughter in birth? Pray Hema says-- pray! I pray to no one who does not show me favor. She is only a picture that stands on the wall in my home.

[Bajra grew impatient waiting on Chandi to appear.  He rose from when he lay and stepped into the river to wash the remains of his son.  When he finished submerging his body is the cold waters, he walked to the shore, shivering and seeing his breath in the air after each breath that he took.  Bajra lived closed to the river and knew someone was bound to find his son’s body parts.  As the sun rose from the sky he said happy birthday in his mind. Bajra walked home and changed into something warm.  He lay next to Hema until she woke.] 

“You are cold, Bajra. It is time to wake and begin the planning for Vaayu’s birthday. Wake him please and take him to your father’s home.”

[Hema was too busy to realize that Bajra left the house alone.  Later that evening everyone gathered to the river to begin the pujah for goddess Chandi.]

                                             

“Bajra, where is Vaayu?”

“With you mother,” Bajra answered.

[Hema went to her mother and began to question everyone where her son was.  She walked into the forest where she met an older woman.]

“Hema, Vaayu was lying here.  You must watch him closely my dear.”

Baby in the Woods

[Hema did not know the woman, but thanked her for finding her son. The women and Vaayu walked back to the river and began the pujah to goddess Chandi.]

“Hema, you found him!” Bajra said in delight.

[Bajra felt guilt as he watched his wife hold their son in her arms]

“Of course, Chandi is always watching over this family Bajra.”

[And Chandi was watching over their family.  She was the older woman in disguise who returned Vaayu back to his mother.]

Author’s Note:This story was inspired by “The Joymangalbar Ceremony, Joyabati -The Gift of Joya” from "The Sacred Tales of India,” written by Dwijendra Nath Neogi.  Joya, a servant to the goddess Chandi, disguises himself as a poor and hungry Brahman.  When he is approached with food, Joya refuses to eat food from a daughterless man by the name of Kanak Sen.  Kanak Sen apologizes to Joya and asks him to be kind and bless him with a daughter.  Joya gives Kanak Sen and his wife a drug to take to help them reproduce a child.  With much success the couple is blessed with a daughter and they name her Joyabati, after Joya. When Joyabati is of marrying age, she exchanges nuptials with a young man by the name of Joydev.  After the two are married, Joydev notices his wife’s devotion to the goddess Chandi.  He does everything in his power to prove to Joyabati that Chandi is not real.  His determination soon becomes desperation, and ends in him killing their son.

My inspiration for my story came from Joydev.  His character was unlike any other character in “The Sacred Tales of India.” I enjoyed finding out the mischievous acts that he was planning, and I loved the outcome of each situation.  No matter how hard he tried to bring ill will to his wife, Chandi reversed the act as if it never happened. 

Bibliography: The Sacred Tales of India by Dwijendra Nath Neogi (1918)