Stories. By Him.

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I was told many stories. By people who were living them. I listened with all attention. I thought that was my only contribution.

Out of all those, what completely pulled me into it was a certain Ramayanam. Though I knew, I was ineligible, I dreamed of being the Sita. And ended up being a Surpanaka and a Thataki. It was worse. Not because playing monster, contrary to the popular notion, is hard. But because Rama didn’t bother to end them. All these theories of the evil being evil, because they can reach Him sooner, didn’t work here.

The female characters not bringing any luck , I tried being men. As loyal as Lakshmana and as religious as Hanuman. No luck. Tried being Ravana, but his were too big shoes for my feet. Then, tried being the monkeys and the squirrels, couldn’t even grab his attention.

In all of this, I ended up feeling like stone-like- Ahalya. I was waiting for the Rama to show some mercy and bring me back to life, only to realize that he is no longer the Rama in the story. He had long back turned into cursed Ahalya, conned by some unseen Indra and cursed by some unknown Gautama Muni.

The story now needs a Rama. A Rama who could turn this Rama into Rama again! Giving a scope and hope of my revival!

But didn’t I tell you these were the stories of the lived and the living. These stories aren’t as purposeful as the stories we write. Nor are they entertaining or engaging enough. They lack form and structure, not to speak of logic and coherence. It is not known who the intended audience are.

What do you do when you get stuck in somebody else’s story? You keep calm and find a way out. Like every criminal supposedly leaves a clue, all bad writers leave loopholes for audience to escape.

Here’s the proof. You’re already figuring out which exit to take.

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