Week 9: Famous Last Words--Art Scholl & Manfred von Richthofen

"I have a problem--I have a real problem."       "Kaputt. . ."

While my problem was not with a plane's systems failing resulting in a subsequent crash, this week I had the unfortunate luck of having my laptop crash on me. . . Again.  Gahhhhhhhhh.  So frustrating, especially seeing as I have this class online plus other classes that necessitate regular access to computers for assignments.  As much as I appreciate that at least there are computers for use on campus, it's still damn inconvenient to rearrange homework and free time around campus and chancy computer availability.  Thus I get to spend what little time I have outside of class in the library and other computer banks on campus.  Fantastic.

What with my computer blacking out on me and my sister visiting and deadlines unexpectedly moving forward (which is totally unacceptable, people!), I have been insanely busy this past week, and have been unable to get ahead with work like usual.  In fact, I do believe I'm going to go crazy with finishing everything only shortly before it's due.  (And while I may be good at procrastinating, it leaves me stressed out and anxious, which is never good for either myself or the people around me, haha.)

Which means, of course, that all of my storybook assignments and responses are falling by the wayside.  I'm not behind--yet--but tomorrow I get to play a massive game of catch-up.  Ugh. . .

This week has been one of those times when you realize how useful technology is until it breaks.  And then you realize how much of classwork forces you to utilize technology or fail.  And then you wish excuses such as "My dog ate my homework" were accepted by university professors, haha.  Instead, I get to say I did my best, but I had to deal with my computer going "Kaputt."  O me miseram!



Image Information.  Photograph of Aerobatics Pitts S2 by Hakan Dahlstrom.  Taken September 5, 2010.  Flickr.

Week 9: Storytelling--Trapped Among Peacocks

It all began with my swayamvara.  Everything was supposedly proceeding as it should, with suitors of all classes and of various kingdoms preening and boasting of their skills.  Even those who knew they had little chance of earning my hand had come to catch a glimpse of me and to hope for a miraculous win.

Perhaps if I were the type of princess my father and his advisers desired, all of the attention would have been flattering and would have caused a delicate, feminine blush to stain my cheeks.  Instead, as I was paraded into the arena like nothing more than a beautiful prize to be won, I could not help but scorn those around me.  All of them were haughty, arrogant, conceited, egocentric, narcissistic peacocks, wishing for nothing more than to flash their bright plumage and claim me as a trophy and a symbol of their prowess.  But I refused to be so easily won, so easily used.

My brother and father had wanted a simple archery competition, but I convinced them otherwise--it was my swayamvara, after all.  If I'm to be forced into marriage, I'm going to make it a challenge for all involved.  So I got to watch all of those preening peacocks shoot five arrows at a revolving target while using only a reflection in a pan of oil to aim.  And thankfully I was able to get a little bit of amusement out of the detestable misogynistic tournament.

If I weren't so thrilled with the prospect of escaping marriage, the display of spectacular failures would have been embarrassing.  I had hoped to eliminate only the worst, but instead sent all suitors fleeing in shame--that is, except for two.

You see, Karna, a Kaurava, was--and is still--one of the most gifted master of arms and archery.  He stood in the corner watching his "competition" failing with a contemptuous sneer on his face, joking with his men condescendingly.  Despicable as he is, I could not prevent him from competing, and so I watched with dread as he approached the bow in the arena.  Of course, when he looked my way, I continued to play the innocent, bashful, flattered damsel everyone wanted me to be--even if all I wanted to do was storm out of that hall after calling out all the men who thought a simple contest should determine the entirety of a woman's future.

However, it seemed I was not as in control of myself as I like to think.  For, as Karna approached the line to take aim at the target, I released a simple comment on a resigned sigh.  "I will not accept him."

Never have I been so glad to have uttered five simple words.  Those words changed my fate, or perhaps simply enabled fate to proceed as planned.  In any case, Karna turned to me, his eyes filled with arrogant condescension and his smile wry, and dropped the bow on the ground with a prideful air.  Sarcastically, he mouthed, "As you wish," and haughtily announced to his men that I was not worth the trouble if I was not to be agreeable.  Detestable men, wanting nothing more than a pretty doll on a shelf to be taken down when needed!

A brahmin, appearing humble and tattered, then stood up and approached the challenge I placed before him.  Without hesitation, and with obvious ease, he sunk all five arrows deep in the rotating target.  For a moment I thought to deny him, regardless of his skill, but then he looked into my eyes--and I saw my fate.

Perhaps you will say that I must have seen love, or that I must have simply accepted my role as a princess.  Fools!  I would not subject myself to marriage simply because it was expected, because it was traditional.  And perhaps love could explain my change in heart, but that was not the case.  No, when I looked into Arjuna's eyes--for indeed it was he, one of the Pandavas--it was as if there was a cosmic link between us.  I felt a pull, a gravity in his form, and I knew that I could not object, could not fight this marriage.  Whether I desired it or not, I would marry this man.  And seeing also kindness and strength and respect and virtue in the man before me, I gracefully accepted that he was part of my destiny.

And so I draped a garland of fragrant flowers around his neck and acted the demure princess most believed me to be.  Even as the crowd objected to the victory of an understated red spurfowl among so many self-absorbed peacocks, I recognized Arjuna as a worthy complement.  I believe he recognized the spark of fire in my gaze, the undeniable aura of wit and defiance I exuded, and yet he simply nodded in acceptance of me with a slight smile touching his lips.

Of course, my marriage was not to be as simple as my betrothal.  For I was to end up with five husbands, rather than one.  It was seem I do have a tendency to bring about the most unusual circumstances.

But that is a story for another day. . .




Author's Note.  So I decided to write a tale about Draupadi.  She caught my eye in the epic so far in that she always seems to have something to say, some objection about her treatment as nothing more than property or a prize.  And yet, at the same time, in some ways she is very accepting of her fate.  So a strong, intelligent, complicated woman--how unheard of!!!  Haha.  But seriously, I like her character a lot.  Thus my strong, sassy, independent portrayal.  I hope you enjoyed it!!!

Bibliography.  Narayan, R.K. (1978). The Mahabharata.

Image Information.  Photograph of a peacock feather, 2013.  FreeWall Source.

Week 9: Reading Diary B--You've Got to Know When to Hold 'Em. . . Know When to Walk Away, Know When to Run!!

Soooo. . . Due to a busy weekend and a couple of midterm exams sneaking up on me, I decided to skip yesterday's reading diary assignment.  However, I did read both the first and second assignments today, even if I am just commenting on today's section.  So don't think I'm too much of a slacker. . .

Anyway, let's get to Narayan's Mahabharata!!!

In this epic we definitely see a society whose politics are reminiscent of our own--you know, with spies, subterfuge, distrust, lies, no loyalty. . . Did I mention selfish intent?  I could go on.

Oh, codes.  How obvious you can be, when subtlety fails you!!

You have to love the irony of the House of Joy being in reality a murderous trap.  I mean, what else would it be?  And why not escape through tunnels?  That is what every prisoner tries first, of course.  Though most prisoners are forced to dig with a spoon and don't have master tunnel builders to do the work for them. . .

I keep thinking of Bhima as the Lakshmana of the Pandavas.  You know, not sleeping for unrealistic amounts of time, providing for everyone, doing all the necessary things for survival and carrying everyone's burdens himself.  And then having other people take a lot of the credit.  I don't know whether to admire or pity them, so I shall do both.

Of course then Bhima gets a Lakshmana of his own (his son, Ghatotkacha), so life's not too terrible.

Okay, so maybe Bhima gets more for his labors than did Lakshmana.  I pity Bhima considerably less.

Basically Bhima is an amalgamation of Rama and Lakshmana.  Or something.  Yeah, definitely something. . .

Let me just taunt and manhandle this demon and then kill him bare-handed with no effort.  Don't worry, I'm just a simple brahmin. . .  Don't believe me?  Huh.  Guess we'll just have to move on then.  Idiots.  Did you really think you could get away with that without garnering attention?

I kind of hate how Narayan keeps mentioning the Mahabharata in his narration of the Mahabharata.  It just annoys me.  *sigh*

One wife to be shared among five brothers. . . That must be awkward as heck.  Poor Arjuna, poor Draupadi, poor Pandavas.  And how awkward for this all to occur because of a throw-away remark from their mother.  And then to describe the situation to Draupadi's father. . . All sorts of awkwardness here.

Lesson to be learned here:  Never repeat a word when pleading to the gods.  You may end up with five husbands instead of one.  True story.

Poor blind Dhritarashtra being ordered around by his son.  This epic is just filled with poor people.  Even if they are all technically rich.  Money really can't buy happiness. . . Just in case you hadn't yet realized that in your life.

To make peace or to annihilate?  Decisions, decisions.

Need to make a critical decision?  Just turn to the handy god sitting in your midst.  Nbd.

Have you seen your brother having sex with your mutual wife?  EXILE!!  And while exiled, why not pick up two more wives?  What else would you do with your time?

I don't know about any of you, but roasting an entire forest full of animals seems a little excessive as a sacrifice to me--as well as more than a little shameful.  But I guess if it's what the gods want, then it's totally acceptable.  Though I can't help but imagine how harshly my vegetarian sister would declaim this little tale.

I really want to visit this city of wonderful illusions.  It would be like wandering through a beautiful house of mirrors, haha.  Though chances are I would be the one drenched. . . Ah, well.

Gambling--just as much of a harmful addiction then as it is now, and forever the game of the deceitful.

So many descriptions of the prince as a jackal.  Hear him cackle!!

Turning the wife of the five Pandavas into a chambermaid and whore after winning her by cheating in a dice game.  Classy.

I really like Draupadi.  She is one strong, intelligent, defiant woman.  Hells, yeah, Pachali!!

Also, you've gotta love Krishnu for his sari trick to keep Draupadi robed.  Niceeeee.

And finally Dhritarashtra shows some wisdom and lets everyone go free with wealth intact.  Perhaps war can be avoided here. . . Hahahahahaha.  Just kidding.  Like that would happen.

And almost immediately Dhritarashtra once again becomes an idiotic puppet.  Such a strong figure for a king!

Bhima is vicious!!  Maybe justly so, but still!

And after everything has been gambled away once again, again Dhritarashtra tries to undo his error.  Fickle people irk me like nothing else!  Gahhhhh.

And so we are left in suspense as to whether this gambling debt is to be withdrawn as well.  To be continued!!