Week 2: Storytelling--Cracked Perfection

Brahma once created a paradigm of absolute beauty, a woman who had not a single blemish or imperfection to mar her perfect features.  She was desired by all men, creatures and gods, for who would not wish to be the lover of such pulchritude?  Yet perfection can be a curse as much as it can be a blessing; not all are able to refuse the siren's call.  Moreover, when one encounters a siren--when one caves to temptation--someone must face destruction.

My name is Ahalya.  I am the creation of Brahma and the definition of non-imperfection.  And I am the one who faced the consequences of the siren's song. . .

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While I was still a little girl, Indra, king of heavens, and highest of the pantheon, became enthralled with my beauty.  Brahma wished to save me from Indra's presumptuousness and left me in the care of Sage Guatama.  Gautama was generous and kind; never did his heart or mind stray from purity.  And I, having spent so much time in his company, loved and adored him.  Thus when Brahma and the gods blessed our marriage, I could not have been happier.

Perhaps it seems odd to you that I should delight in marrying my childhood guardian; but when you develop such adoration for a man, when you rejoice in his companionship and compassion, when a man has won your heart through his purity and wisdom and through his devotion--well, it is not so hard to promise yourself to him.

And perhaps it was the tranquility and bliss of our marriage that left me open to deceit.  Perhaps if I had experienced more duplicity in my childhood I would not have been so vulnerable to deception.  Yet, if my only fault was naivete and ignorance of guile, am I really to blame?  Was I really deserving of the harsh punishment I received?

For throughout the years Indra's infatuation had not waned, and his obsession to possess me had even grown.  He deceived me, assuming the guise of my beloved Guatama, and made 'love' to me.  By the time I realized that this figure, this semblance of my husband, was not in fact my love, it was too late.  Guatama found me in bed with Indra, cursed the god, and then claimed me defiled and sentenced me to a life as a stone until Rama would redeem me.  No matter how much I pleaded, no matter how I tried to explain that I should not be held culpable, Guatama could only look at me with thinly veiled disgust in his eyes.

To be left as shapeless granite through the long years by my beloved, my dearest companion. . . How it stung.  And to not even be able to voice my sorrow, for all of my lamentations to be unheard, it tortured me.  Every foot that trod on me, every voice that echoed off my cracked surface, every traveler who stopped to rest in my vicinity--how I wished to cry out to them, to beg for understanding and forgiveness!  I craved the affection of my beloved, but all I received was the caress of the wind. . . No punishment could have been greater.

I may as well have been a headstone whose inscription was worn away and whose identity was forgotten--that is, until Rama's path crossed with mine.  Suddenly my human form was restored to me, and my lamentations could be articulated.  But none of that mattered; all that I cared about was returning home to my beloved and being forgiven.

Do you hear me, dearest Guatama?  I know we cannot truly forget the past, but can you move on?  Will you forgive me my one offense?  You and I both know that I am not the same as I was, but no one is the same person they were yesterday.  I only hope that you can see beyond my transgression, and love me once again.

My name, Ahalya, no longer suits me.  Nevertheless, can you love me, Guatama, even though I am naught but cracked perfection?




Author's Note.  In this story, I expanded on the tale of Ahalya as it was told in Narayan's The Ramayana.  I found it odd that Ahalya, who was herself deceived, was punished so harshly for her indiscretion with the god Indra.  And so I decided to look at how she may have felt, at how blameless and yet guilty she may have thought herself, and to tell the story through her eyes.

Bibliography.  Narayan, R.K.  (1972)  The Ramayana.

Image Information.  Ahalya leaning on tree.  Chromolithograph by R. Varma, 1896.  Source:  Wellcome Images.