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T O P I C R E V I E Wwhitewitch111Rough draft;1001 Nights of a DevadasiYou dance in my heart, where no one else sees you,But sometimes I see you,And this is your art-Rumi18th day of Assadha, 1788"Keep up Indrakshi!" The child heard her sister yell. "Coming Abhaiya!" She hollered back. Indrakshi was nine Autumns old, the upcoming one would be her tenth; a curious little girl, and most pious. She had stopped to admire the yellow chrysanthemums, just peaking their blooming buds out in time for summer. 'I would bet that this is where Saraswati agreed to be the Wife of Brahma, these flowers are so pretty!' Her mind chided gleefully. Most people would have laughed at her for this. How can one see the place where the God of creation won the heart of his daughter in nothing more then a bunch of chrysanthemums? But, children were such. Though, none as devoted to the Gods as this child. Not that she talked to many holy men of the temples, only when her family's visits to the abodes of their fatherly Deva's deemed it convenient. Indrakshi ran to Abhaiya now nearly 30 feet in front of her and still walking. The adolescent maid grasped her sisters hand. "If something happens to you, Janaka will never let me from the house again. "She scolded. "Tata doesn't even know where we are now," spoke Indrakshi, "and if he did, he would never let you out again even with the family!""So go and tell him!" Abhaiya snapped. "You tell him everything anyway with your big mouth!" It was true, as faithful and joyful as the nine-year-old Indrakshi was, she could not keep her mouth shut for the world, only around strangers. "I do not!" She yelled back. "And look! You've dirtied your sari by your behavior!" She snapped. "I'll blend in more!" Indrakshi piped up with a cheer. Abhaiya had to laugh. As much as her sister consumed all of her irritation, she was a wonderful child. "come on let's just go," she sighed gently. "And you need to stop calling him Tata, you're a big girl now." After walking for a bit longer, the two sisters met with the crowds. The day was so hot and the smells of bodily odors caused by the sweat of travelers stung the nostrils. There was also quite a nauseating air of bovine **** . Both of the girls held their noses, but found it amazing how the others didn't. Even, Abaiya, more familiar with the Vaishya's and Shrudrus, well, the Vaishya's moreso. And it seemed the crowd they had decided to follow were the poorest of the Shrudra's. Beneath her feet, Indrakshi felt the dried nearly dead grass which rubbed roughly on her soles. 'Is this how the peasants and merchants live?' She thought. 'I've never felt more discomfort!'Though, it was an important day indeed, and Indrakshi ever the religious, wouldn't miss it for the world: Kumbh Mela of Nashik-Trimbakeshwar Simhastha, the feast that honored the churning of the oceans when the Deva's and Asura's competed of who would win the special Amrita. To the Ganges, Shiva's favorite river, that was their destination. Indrakshi looked around at them, the pilgrims, most of them were peasants, she knew it by the dirt on their faces and rugged clothing."What sort of husband are you going to pray for?" she asked Abhaiya curiously not breaking her gaze from them. The story of Lakshmi's emergence from the waters made it extra special to pray for a husband of any woman's choosing. When the Goddess beheld Vishnu, she so chose him. This was precisely the reason the sisters had secretly ventured away from their father's abode."Oh," spoke the dark eyed maiden so sure of herself. "A man who knows how to treat his wife with respect. A man who treats his wife as his equal, maybe one from the West."Indrakshi scoffed. "You will never attain the heart of a western man!" She boomed"And how do you know!?" She demanded. "Tata just sells to them, he wouldn't ever give one your hand." Abhaiya gave a proud groan. "We shall see. Shiva and Lakshmi will be pleased with my offering anyway!""Mind you the jewels do not be stolen!" Indrakshi shot back. The elder sister shook her head. "I would take you back if we weren't close already."Their Father was a merchant of cosmetics and the pale skinned women of the west paid well for the kajal to blacken their eyes.When at last they had reached the sacred waters, Indrakshi's eyes filled with wonder and joy. It sparkled with the high noon sun. Children were playing and splashing each other and women were bathing singing devotional hymns. "Parvati, Parvati, Wife of Mahadev, She strangled her husband Out of her love and devotion,And now Har Har MahadevHis throat is blue From her beautiful love.""May I go play in the water?!" Indrakshi asked gleefully. Indeed the girl was hot and anxious to be cleansed of her sins that she merely imagined she had. "Mmm...okay, but meet me by the back of the temple when the sun begins to set.""The temple?" She asked curiously and turned her neck like an owl to see it.It was beautiful! White shining limestone, with all the Gods carved in its tall magnificent walls, some in erotic poses.Indrakshi gave a girlish chuckle. "I know what they're doing," she said deviously. Abhaiya gently tapped her sister in scolding. "Just go play," she said mildly annoyed.The nine year old girl took of ecstatically towards the river. Inhaling the salty aroma of its seas, she bolted straight in hands first. So cool and refreshing on her parched skin. Some children were carrying on merrily. Knee deep, she ran to them and began splashing trying to partake in the fun.But, they looked at her funny and irritatingly. They swam off and Indrakshi became hurt. But, ever a prideful one, she would not show this on her golden face, and ducked her head under the water.AyeletThat's great writing, WhiteWitch! Very interesting telling! I am captured by the story. Are you going to continue it, develop it, and so forth? Will you share here?PearltyNice story writing! whitewitch111She kept her eyes open beneath the waters, so as she floated up to see the surrel sun almost to the point of setting.She closed her lids as she let the waves carry her. And soon they had brought her to another land mass by the river.As her lashed fluttered open, she observed that Ganga had led her to a special place emmased by tangerine trees. They were not yet ripened, but the orange on them contrasted so nicely with their green buds.Beneath the largest sat a Brahmin, one of those hermits of the forests who dedicated their lives to a life of poverty and humility. His eyes were closed in meditation, sitting cross legged beneath his red robe as his fingers formed the hand of wisdom. He was elder and his hair was done like the matted tresses of Shiva as well as his beard.Indarkshi emerged from the sparkling water and approached him slowly and respectfully. She assumed on her knees, folded her hands in prayer and hung her head to him. "You had best stop disturbing my meditation!" She suddenly heard the sage shout angrily.Immediately she opened her eyes. "Forgive me oh holy Lord, I did not mean...." At that moment she heard the chuckle of a child above her.She peered at the tree beside the one the Brahmin lay against and in it's branches sat a small boy with two or three of the tangy fruits in his hands. The monkey like figured tyke threw one at the sage ever so boldly and burst out into laugher as he swiftly moved his head to be hit by it. "I declare that any gifts the Gods have brought thee you shan't remember unless someone remind you!" He shouted. He turned then angrily to Indrakshi who froze with fear. But to her he displayed a gentle smile. "Hello child," he spoke kindly. "Do you know who I am?""Oh yes, you are a great hermit, one who gives his life to the Gods, free often of even food devoting yourself wholly to Brahma," the little girl replied eagerly.He stoked his long grey beard seemingly charmed by her response. "Interesting that you knew I was a devotee of Brahma," he replied. "I should have thought you would assume Shiva."Indrakshi thought hard for a moment. How had she known that?At that moment another tangerine fell and the boy laughed. "How dare you!" Indrakshi yelled. "You should give honor to a son of the great Brahma!"The boy rolled his eyes, and in amazement Indrakshi witnesses him jump from one tree to the next, just like Hanumam the monkey warrior. whitewitch111"Well thank the Gods that little pesk shouldn't disturb me now," the wise man said. He turned his head towards the girl. "What is your name child?" He asked soothingly. His voice hit Indrakshi's ears like a beautiful veena played by Narada himself antiquitied from age. "Indrakshi!" She replied jovially. "Indrakshi? Such a pretty name for a pretty girl. You certainly have eyes to prove you such." Indrakshi's eyes were a hazel green, and as not many people had eyes of this color, she had always felt herself special. She had always been told that her Mother had looked into them and whispered her christening shortly before her last breath. "My name is Mohammad." This confused the girl."Mohammad? But that is the name of the God of the South men, and they terrorize us night and day ever since the stepped foot upon our soil."whitewitch111Rather then offense, Mohammed laughed at this. "Child, to obtain true enlightenment all Gods of all peoples, weather ruthless or pure must be honored. It is the only way to Sahasara." "I suppose," she replied.At once Indrakshi heard the jingling of bells and the sounds of the flute like that of Krishna. She turned to see the Temple, upon the balcony were dancing the most beautiful women the little girl had ever seen! Their sky blue colored clothes and peacock feathers working their hair signaled a great wonder within her. "W..who are they?" She asked pointing, her eyes transfixed never leaving. The Brahmin looked to the direction of her gaze. "Those are the Wives of Shiva," the sage declared proudly. "Those women who pledge themselves to the love of the supreme Deva.""Wife of Shiva?" Asked Indrakshi sarcastically, she had accustomed to be herself now around Mohammed, plus she thought maybe him to be a fraud now."Shiva has only one wife, and this is Parvati.""Not so," replied the sage. "Shiva is married too to Durga, Kali, Ganga, Shakti and Uma. "Yes, but they are all an aspect of Parvati.""True enough this is, but you must understand, all women are manifestations and daughters of Parvati. For, within all women dwells Shakti."whitewitch111"Yes, but Shiva cannot have that many Wives," Indrakshi replied, but she was losing interest in debating with the Brahmin as the young women were now beginning to twirl solely on their left legs, their right ones raised. "If all women are Shakti, then all women are Shiva's consorts," replied Mohammad. "Yes, but, Parvati is his favorite." The priest laughed because Indrakshi only half understood. "That you are correct about."Suddenly an idea dawned on the child. "I should like to be a Wife of Shiva!" She yelled with delight. "You certainly are pretty enough, but be warned, it is a difficult task to be a Wife of Shiva, for as in all women dwell Shakti, so too in all men dwell the energy of Shiva and his is a great and mighty one.""I shall be a Wife of Shiva," she replied dreamily unable to take her eyes off his young consorts. She looked up, the sky was beginning to cast a deep red purple over the world. "I must be leaving! My sister shall punish me!" She began to run off, but then looked back at the sage. "Goodbye Mohammad!" She hollered, thank you for sharing your wisdom!"He waved calmly as she turned to sprint again back into the water and swimming swiftly. 'She could make a beautiful Devadasi,' he thought. 'And yet, she is too beautiful to be thus. Pray my father to Mahadev that she changes her mind and marries instead a rich and loving husband.'Indrakshi wandered through the crowds looking for Abaiya, now the night was setting in with a color of deep indigo. At last she had found her kneeling by the water's edge, casting a white lotus onto its surface, the jewels tucked safely within its petals. Immediately Indrakshi took her place beside her sister and threw herself into great prayer. "What are you praying for?" The elder girl asked. "I can't tell you," she whispered back hoarsely. "Because then it won't come true."Abhaiya rolled her eyes. "Okay, just hurry."whitewitch111Come of my Beloved,Bedecked with splendorous worldsGlowing with the radiance of the sun.Enter my dark abode of space.-John NavinShaktiFirst night of ChaitraWhat makes the Divine Feminine Divine? Is it the beauty of the face? Is it a perfected figure or the adornments of the body? Be it the grace in which a woman moves? I do not yet know. But as I look at the men gazing lustfully upon my sisters and myself I am taken to wonder. We are adorned in yellow to welcome the spring sun. In our hair is sewn amber jewels and we ring out golden zills to welcome Shiva whom dwells within all men. When the performance is over, they shall take their pick and we will retire for sacred love making. Outside the wind blows gently casting a much welcomed breeze to my hot sweating face. The marble floor is cool upon my feet as well which helps too though little. There is a man whose eyes is upon me. He is handsome and young with a light ochre complexion. My own pupils wonder back to his and back to the others. We are taught that when a man looks at us to subtly cast him glances here and there. Maybe, maybe it is the eyes then, or in the performance, maybe this is what makes Shakti emerge from all those whom embody the wisdom of woman. For, the male dancers are performing tonight too, but in another room of the temple.whitewitch111The priests are sitting beside the spectators smiling approvingly. Priests? Priests they call themselves? They care only for their pockets, riches and such. Sometimes I think back to the words of the holy man the day I decided to become a Devadasi. "Be warned." And I do wish I would have heeded this. mirage29(Interesting, WW! ..)whitewitch111Thank you all!!! thequeenInteresting pieces…loved the writing style AyeletHi WhiteWitch! The story is very interesting. Is this the complete piece?whitewitch111No! It's a novel, but I'm posting my rough draft here. I'm glad you all enjoy it!AyeletI would love to read the whole novel when it's done. I hope you'll make it available/known here so we can get it.PearltyA novel, such an impressive undertaking I would like to read your finished version as well whitewitch.whitewitch111Editmirage29Whitewitch!! ... I was very lucky to have read your latest installment before you removed it. {I didn't comment right then because I was extremely tired, with bad inflamed-feeling headache, and being kept awake by a neighbor's loud equipment... sorry I didn't comment in time.}You write wonderful stories. You could sell those little series of Romance Novels if you chose to expand into selling some of those. Medieval Romance stories that involve eastern philosophies.I wish you a Wonderful Solstice and Holiday Season.I hope your Christmas Dreams (Christmas to me includes EVERY Expression) that you dream this year will come True for the next... Merry Solstice! AyeletI didn't get a chance to read what you edited out. If you wanted to change something, I hope you'll post again. Your writing interests me. And I still want to know what happened to that girl from India you were writing about in another thread. Really, if you publish something, let us know.Randall quote:Originally posted by Ayelet:I didn't get a chance to read what you edited out. If you wanted to change something, I hope you'll post again. Your writing interests me. And I still want to know what happened to that girl from India you were writing about in another thread. Really, if you publish something, let us know.mirage29It was really good, Ayelet. Whitewitch could author a series of Harlequin Romance books, easily!Yo Pearlty???? Did you start that new Publishing Company yet? ;D ... I think you could have some customers!! whitewitch111Thank you so much all
1001 Nights of a Devadasi
You dance in my heart, where no one else sees you,But sometimes I see you,And this is your art-Rumi
18th day of Assadha, 1788
"Keep up Indrakshi!" The child heard her sister yell. "Coming Abhaiya!" She hollered back. Indrakshi was nine Autumns old, the upcoming one would be her tenth; a curious little girl, and most pious. She had stopped to admire the yellow chrysanthemums, just peaking their blooming buds out in time for summer. 'I would bet that this is where Saraswati agreed to be the Wife of Brahma, these flowers are so pretty!' Her mind chided gleefully. Most people would have laughed at her for this. How can one see the place where the God of creation won the heart of his daughter in nothing more then a bunch of chrysanthemums? But, children were such. Though, none as devoted to the Gods as this child. Not that she talked to many holy men of the temples, only when her family's visits to the abodes of their fatherly Deva's deemed it convenient.
Indrakshi ran to Abhaiya now nearly 30 feet in front of her and still walking. The adolescent maid grasped her sisters hand. "If something happens to you, Janaka will never let me from the house again. "She scolded. "Tata doesn't even know where we are now," spoke Indrakshi, "and if he did, he would never let you out again even with the family!""So go and tell him!" Abhaiya snapped. "You tell him everything anyway with your big mouth!" It was true, as faithful and joyful as the nine-year-old Indrakshi was, she could not keep her mouth shut for the world, only around strangers. "I do not!" She yelled back. "And look! You've dirtied your sari by your behavior!" She snapped. "I'll blend in more!" Indrakshi piped up with a cheer. Abhaiya had to laugh. As much as her sister consumed all of her irritation, she was a wonderful child. "come on let's just go," she sighed gently. "And you need to stop calling him Tata, you're a big girl now."
After walking for a bit longer, the two sisters met with the crowds. The day was so hot and the smells of bodily odors caused by the sweat of travelers stung the nostrils. There was also quite a nauseating air of bovine **** . Both of the girls held their noses, but found it amazing how the others didn't. Even, Abaiya, more familiar with the Vaishya's and Shrudrus, well, the Vaishya's moreso. And it seemed the crowd they had decided to follow were the poorest of the Shrudra's.
Beneath her feet, Indrakshi felt the dried nearly dead grass which rubbed roughly on her soles. 'Is this how the peasants and merchants live?' She thought. 'I've never felt more discomfort!'
Though, it was an important day indeed, and Indrakshi ever the religious, wouldn't miss it for the world: Kumbh Mela of Nashik-Trimbakeshwar Simhastha, the feast that honored the churning of the oceans when the Deva's and Asura's competed of who would win the special Amrita. To the Ganges, Shiva's favorite river, that was their destination.
Indrakshi looked around at them, the pilgrims, most of them were peasants, she knew it by the dirt on their faces and rugged clothing."What sort of husband are you going to pray for?" she asked Abhaiya curiously not breaking her gaze from them. The story of Lakshmi's emergence from the waters made it extra special to pray for a husband of any woman's choosing. When the Goddess beheld Vishnu, she so chose him.
This was precisely the reason the sisters had secretly ventured away from their father's abode."Oh," spoke the dark eyed maiden so sure of herself. "A man who knows how to treat his wife with respect. A man who treats his wife as his equal, maybe one from the West."Indrakshi scoffed. "You will never attain the heart of a western man!" She boomed"And how do you know!?" She demanded. "Tata just sells to them, he wouldn't ever give one your hand." Abhaiya gave a proud groan. "We shall see. Shiva and Lakshmi will be pleased with my offering anyway!""Mind you the jewels do not be stolen!" Indrakshi shot back. The elder sister shook her head. "I would take you back if we weren't close already."
Their Father was a merchant of cosmetics and the pale skinned women of the west paid well for the kajal to blacken their eyes.
When at last they had reached the sacred waters, Indrakshi's eyes filled with wonder and joy. It sparkled with the high noon sun. Children were playing and splashing each other and women were bathing singing devotional hymns. "Parvati, Parvati, Wife of Mahadev, She strangled her husband Out of her love and devotion,And now Har Har MahadevHis throat is blue From her beautiful love."
"May I go play in the water?!" Indrakshi asked gleefully. Indeed the girl was hot and anxious to be cleansed of her sins that she merely imagined she had. "Mmm...okay, but meet me by the back of the temple when the sun begins to set.""The temple?" She asked curiously and turned her neck like an owl to see it.It was beautiful! White shining limestone, with all the Gods carved in its tall magnificent walls, some in erotic poses.Indrakshi gave a girlish chuckle. "I know what they're doing," she said deviously. Abhaiya gently tapped her sister in scolding. "Just go play," she said mildly annoyed.The nine year old girl took of ecstatically towards the river.
Inhaling the salty aroma of its seas, she bolted straight in hands first. So cool and refreshing on her parched skin. Some children were carrying on merrily. Knee deep, she ran to them and began splashing trying to partake in the fun.But, they looked at her funny and irritatingly. They swam off and Indrakshi became hurt. But, ever a prideful one, she would not show this on her golden face, and ducked her head under the water.
ShaktiFirst night of Chaitra
What makes the Divine Feminine Divine? Is it the beauty of the face? Is it a perfected figure or the adornments of the body? Be it the grace in which a woman moves? I do not yet know. But as I look at the men gazing lustfully upon my sisters and myself I am taken to wonder. We are adorned in yellow to welcome the spring sun. In our hair is sewn amber jewels and we ring out golden zills to welcome Shiva whom dwells within all men. When the performance is over, they shall take their pick and we will retire for sacred love making. Outside the wind blows gently casting a much welcomed breeze to my hot sweating face. The marble floor is cool upon my feet as well which helps too though little. There is a man whose eyes is upon me. He is handsome and young with a light ochre complexion. My own pupils wonder back to his and back to the others. We are taught that when a man looks at us to subtly cast him glances here and there. Maybe, maybe it is the eyes then, or in the performance, maybe this is what makes Shakti emerge from all those whom embody the wisdom of woman. For, the male dancers are performing tonight too, but in another room of the temple.
I'm glad you all enjoy it!
You write wonderful stories. You could sell those little series of Romance Novels if you chose to expand into selling some of those. Medieval Romance stories that involve eastern philosophies.
I wish you a Wonderful Solstice and Holiday Season.
I hope your Christmas Dreams (Christmas to me includes EVERY Expression) that you dream this year will come True for the next...
Merry Solstice!
quote:Originally posted by Ayelet:I didn't get a chance to read what you edited out. If you wanted to change something, I hope you'll post again. Your writing interests me. And I still want to know what happened to that girl from India you were writing about in another thread. Really, if you publish something, let us know.
Yo Pearlty???? Did you start that new Publishing Company yet? ;D
... I think you could have some customers!!
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