Storytellers

Journeying Backwards and Forwards and Sideways

 “The time scheme of the epic is somewhat puzzling to us who are habituated to a mere horizontal sequence of events. Valmiki composed (Ramayana) as if he had a past tale to tell, and yet it was broadcast to the world by Kusa and Lava, the sons of Rama, who heard it directly from the author.

One has to set aside all one’s habitual notions of movement and get used to a narrative going backwards and forwards and sideways.

When we take into consideration the fact that a king ruled for sixty thousand or more years, enjoying an appropriate longevity, it seems quite feasible that the character whose past or middle period is being written about continues to live and turns up to have a word with the historian.”

An excerpt from R.K Narayan’s book ‘Gods, Demons and Others’, Chapter 3, Valmiki

*

The myths, the legends, the folktales, the epic victories and defeats, the deaths and rebirths simplify the reality of the extraordinary spirit – confounded and weakened often by tribulations or lulled by indolence – that resides within us all.

These stories take myriad routes, journeying from the world of Gods to the world of Demons, concluding on a high and happy note, introducing one to the game of life, entrusting then the secrets to win.

Every emotion makes an appearance here; ego clashes until it shatters to accept change; Gods create obstacles almost breaking one’s spirit, but blesses the resilient one in the end with immortality and splendour.

These unfathomable, and at times a bit ridiculous, tales are the means to measure the unfathomable, ridiculous reality we live in; these tales, the bases of our culture, our rituals and an amalgamation of past societies, lead us.

*

Journeying through the circle of life.
[Image from Pixabay.]

Splendidly well-adjusted to change, it accepts deletions, additions, revisions without much hullaballoo. It revels in various versions and shades read throughout the country. Same gods-goddesses, demons, sages, avatars… often playing different roles, but embarking on similar journeys.

Written in a playful and ambitious tone these valued legends, retold by storytellers in every generation, are our inheritance; it holds a secret for every tenacious individual.

It is not a particular theme that is the moral of the story here but the journey, the journey with its endless possibilities and absurdities, twists crafted by the capricious fate and the supremacy of time that gives us insight into our understanding of life.

And such has been the role of the myths, legends and epics and of course, the storytellers and it continues.


The renowned author R. K Narayan’s Gods, Demons and Others is an interesting and engaging read, one that opens the gates to Indian mythology for one and all.


Weekly Newsletter

A weekly dose of stories! Get the posts from the Chiming Stories in your inbox and read it when you can. Subscribe now, it is free!


Recent Posts


Chapter II: Chiming Stories

I started blogging back in the year 2011 following my brother’s lead, unaware of the world of bloggers, without any plan of action, happy simply to write one, happy to share my stories on Home Chimes.

This is what I wrote in my introduction earlier-

“I dreamed of Home Chimes a long time back with my eyes open. Since then, I am on a journey to understand that dream.”

“I dreamed of Home Chimes…”
Image by Comfreak from Pixabay

It was indeed like a dream because I do not remember why I came up with this particular name. I remember that I wanted it to do something with the word ‘chimes’, but that was it.

After I selected the name and started blogging, I found out that there used to be a magazine in the late 19th century in London that was also named Home Chimes. And that it went out of publication around the year 1894. You can read about this magazine here

I was very thrilled to know that Jerome K Jerome was amongst the many writers who got their work published in this magazine. Such a wonderful thing it is, I thought. But then this new information made me wonder if I should change the name of my blog to be truly authentic.

I did not change it. The happy coincidence forced me to keep exploring the hidden meaning behind Home Chimes and to keep writing about the stories I became a part of.

From anecdotes to spiritual thoughts, from poems to film reviews, from comic strips to scientific phenomenon, I wrote about all that made me “curiouser and curiouser”. It started as, has stayed and will always be a lovely place – Home Chimes.

One fine day a simmering thought spoke to me, the devotion with which I write these blog entries and the joy that it gives me, it said, is immense, and I realised then that the blog holds a very special place in my life. Gleefully, I stepped forward. Neither a hobby nor a medium, my blog should be simply what I do.

I am a writer, I love the art of storytelling. And like lightening it hit me that it is time now to turn to the second chapter – Chiming Stories.

Tales of this and that world.
Image by PublicDomainPictures from Pixabay

Dear all, with much gusto I have begun and I promise that the second chapter would be a wonderful one. Tales of this and that world, of today and tomorrow… just to give colour to your thoughts and add rhythm to your flying time, ‘Chiming Stories’ is here to tell you a story. Oh! And a good chunk of it will be about the lotus-eyed one, because I love him.

From my dear old Blogger I have now shifted to the fantastic WordPress, the sound reason behind it is – I wanted a high-quality website and the complete freedom to create it.

Both the responsibility and risk are mine now. Voila!

“O muse, bless me that I write well and become the best in chiming stories.”

Amen! Ya-hoy!

P.s. – I apologise for the glitches you must have noticed (and will notice in the coming weeks as well); it is because I am still in the process of developing this website and am doing it all by myself, kindly bear with me. Thanks!

Ambitious? Yes.

Gori knows not where the path leads to, the wet air, the dusky flora, and the mysterious tunes do not guide either.

Soaking in the newness she walks forward.

And why is it that we always choose to walk ahead, why does not the uncertainty collapse us?

If we stop to rest, if we feel defeated, if we turn back embarrassed and ashamed, we still reach, in some time, at the glorious hour of a beginning.

The tired, wounded, and sullen eyes once again look up, once again fathom the depth, once again find the path.

Taking the rope bridge, climbing the echoing mountains, crossing the glassy rainbows, Gori saw that valley where her loved one awaited her.

The gush of wind cheered her, the dew heavy leaves blessed her, the clouds played the drums for her.

And why does it seem that the whole world dances when we dance and the whole world moans when we moan?

How come we hear the call when there is a concrete silence around us, when facts dispel hope and when dejection raises a toast?

In anger the head is alone, when rejoicing the heart holds it all.

The illusion rudely reveals the reality and Gori faces the brazen cold marshland.

What happened to the beautiful valley, to the lover’s promise, to the perfect dream? Hush! The monster rises, its shadow darkens Gori’s faith.

Thundering sky strikes with lightening that Gori catches with her bare hands. Heaving, she runs towards the monster.  

Why is life so epic, so grand, so ambitious? Why do the storytellers talk about ‘once upon a time’?

If the legends appear amused by the mundane, then how many of us are at folly for it is the ordinary that becomes extraordinary?

The tales have never ceased to be melodious, we live perpetually enchanted.  

Gori starts walking, leaving behind the triumphant air, gravity shining on her forehead.

She resumes the journey as a narrow track becomes visible to her now, a solo night jasmine tree on the way, showers her with its flowers, Gori takes its fragrance along.

Gori knows not where the path leads to, soaking in the passionate silence she walks forward.  

Are the night jasmines very ambitious to wait for and shower a victorious warrior and not anyone else? Yes, they are.  

The flowers are ambitious by nature.
Image by Marisa04 from Pixabay

Weekly Newspaper

A weekly dose of stories! Get the posts from the Chiming Stories in your inbox and read it when you can. Subscribe now, it is free!


Recent Posts


What Is So Grand In The Way Dragons Fly?

Eyes gaze at the grandiose being, follows its path, amazed and overwhelmed by the unbelievable. What is so grand in the way dragons fly? It is just in its element, it is its utmost self.

The dragons are awed by every mind that is familiar with its stories. Fire breathing, winged, snake like, four legged, cave dwellers, treasure keepers, proud and wise. Flying high above the clouds, quasi-free from bondage, they come back on the ground to quench their thirst. They don’t kill for joy, they understand the laws of nature.

Mythical or not, dragons are glorious creatures. I say mythical or not for a storytellers’ imagination is an entity in itself, very much alive, though in thoughts, formless and fluid, but true. Found in a story, the dragons thrive in this other realm.

Storytellers gave something more than just a pair of wings to the dragons, that something is splendour and beauty. Thus, right in the thought there was magnanimity and ferocity. What else is a dragon if not a magnanimous loveable beast? Ah, here is what sprinkles magic in a dragon’s story, they are loveable beasts. Our storyteller friends didn’t suffer, at least, and I thank every heaven, from poverty of mind; they dared to imagine and realized that nothing is more powerful than true love, not even a dragon.

So rhythmically every dragon’s story is about love; a hero either fights back or fights along the dragon and wins back her love/ life and is showered with unheard grandeur. Always a talk of antiquity, dragons are, but worth noticing is not the ‘antiquity’ bit, it is the ‘always’ bit. Always remembered, locked in the heart.

But what is so grand in the way dragons fly? It is just in its element, it is its utmost self. Exactly, it is its utmost self. Like the storyteller who thought of it with utmost concentration, power, passion and love. Maybe just for a few minutes the storyteller was in her element, she was her utmost self, and thus, she gave birth to the dragon.

These legendary creatures ruled the sky once upon a time, and they still do, just travel to their realm and witness how majestically they fly.  

Photo courtesy – Google