The two boys followed the man to the back porch and sat down. The temperature was unlike any they had ever felt; it was neither hot nor cold, but they were warmed and cooled.
It had grown dark, and the stars had come out in the sky. The boys had never seen so many lights before. As they admired the heavens, the old man began to speak.
“A long, long time ago – centuries before you grandfather’s great-great-great-grandfather was even born, a man came to my door. He was strikingly handsome, and he gave me the most peculiar feeling. His persona was refreshing, and I was compelled by his nature. His name was Rama, and he was lost. He asked me for directions to a home of one named Shiva. He said it was an emergency – and that it was urgent.
I, however, am not an urgent man. I speak slowly, but precisely, and I enjoy taking my time. I knew where Shiva lived, and I assured Rama that I would show him the way if he sat with me to have a drink. I poured him a glass of wine, and then another, and then another. And, as you may know, in vino veritas. The truth came spilling out of his mouth. He talked and talked, and he began to tell me of a friend of his, a wise monkey, who had warned his monkey-friends of a water-ogre and saved their lives. He told me of his wife and of her beauty. We laughed and got to know each other, and we became the closest of friends.
He said to me, ‘My friend, I feel as though I have known you for a thousand years. Please come with me to see my friend Shiva. I do believe that you would be friends.’
‘Of course I will come. I will show you the way. If you don’t mind me asking, why are you going to see your friend Shiva?’
Rama suddenly grew silent. ‘It seems as though I had forgotten my troubles in your presence. My spirits are lighter, but I must remember why I have come. I have sinned against gods and man. Shiva is the One who is eternally pure, and he will purify me.’
‘For what do you need purification, my dear friend?’ I asked him. I couldn’t believe this man was capable of any sins.
‘I was with my brother and my wife when I saw a golden deer. It was truly beautiful. My wife, Sita, insisted that I pursue it and kill it. I hesitated, but I could not deny her. I chased it, killed it, and when I returned, she was gone. She was kidnapped by an enemy of mine, and I believe it is karma for killing an animal that meant me no harm.’
I sat and listened to him, enjoying another glass of wine, and assured him of his victory. We went to sleep, and in the morning, we travelled to Shiva’s home, where we were both purified.”
The boys had been listening to the old man with furrowed brows, not sure whether or not to believe him. They thanked him for the story, and he showed them to their room.
Author's Note: I chose to use one of my storybook stories this week. I incorporated Rama into this story because I’ve enjoyed him so much in The Ramayana. It was perfect that Shiva lives on Mount Kailash, and it was perfect that there was a section within The Ramayana where Rama needed purification. Within my storybook, I hope to intertwine a few of the religions and give some different perspectives told to the hermit. I chose this particular picture because it captures Sita’s persuasion of Rama. He looks a little apprehensive, but you can tell that he really wants to please Sita. I also added within the story that Rama things Shiva and the hermit would be good friends – I was hoping to illuminate and draw attention to the possibility of the hermit being a god also. That’s why I give a lot of the qualities of the gods to him. Who knows, maybe he is one! I hope that the idea of purification resonated strongly with the reader, especially in relationship to the future stories. I want the mountain conveys many positive qualities that the gods represent within the Indian Epics. I think that the hermit’s persona is compelling to Rama, and it should convey a certain mantra that will resonate throughout the rest of the stories.
Image Information: The Wine List
Le PĂ©rigord
Here's a link to my storybook: The Hermit
Image Information: The Wine List
Le PĂ©rigord
Here's a link to my storybook: The Hermit