DIWALI NIGHT CELEBRATION
The Diwali Night Celebration of Learning was the culmination event for our high school's extensive research on India. Each student picked an aspect of India they wanted to study in more depth and threw themselves into several weeks of uninterrupted research. Each student developed a single driving question that would require research and a project to find an answer to.
When we began this unit, we were introduced to the timeless love story of Rama and Sita. I was taken by how much the story impacted life in India, even though the story is thousands upon thousands of years old. I was particularly interested in the characters, and how, even though they have stayed the same, they are still regarded as gods in India.
And so I developed a project. The idea was to rewrite the original story of the Ramayana into a tale that could take place in this day and age; a timeless love story from ages ago, with modern conventions like cell phones, dating, and changing cultures.
My driving question was simple: How does the Ramayana, even though it's so old, impact and shape India's culture today, when old tales aren't really applicable anywhere?
The story below are the chapters of my adaptation, where you'll be able to find that the answer is, somewhat unexpectedly, that old tales like the Ramayana are playing out right in our daily lives.
When we began this unit, we were introduced to the timeless love story of Rama and Sita. I was taken by how much the story impacted life in India, even though the story is thousands upon thousands of years old. I was particularly interested in the characters, and how, even though they have stayed the same, they are still regarded as gods in India.
And so I developed a project. The idea was to rewrite the original story of the Ramayana into a tale that could take place in this day and age; a timeless love story from ages ago, with modern conventions like cell phones, dating, and changing cultures.
My driving question was simple: How does the Ramayana, even though it's so old, impact and shape India's culture today, when old tales aren't really applicable anywhere?
The story below are the chapters of my adaptation, where you'll be able to find that the answer is, somewhat unexpectedly, that old tales like the Ramayana are playing out right in our daily lives.
Chapter One
It was a big house in a bigger city. The house, or so said the neighbors, was an utter disgrace to the rest of the respectable homes on the street.
People who walked by often just stopped and stared at it.
The stark bricks of the houses around it made a nice background for the glowing white marble. Some would say it looked quite Grecian (just because of the marble), while those who knew of the difference would agree that the style was completely South Asian.
Whatever the style was, it stuck out like a sore thumb on the street of stuffy brick buildings.
And the people who lived inside stuck out even more, on this street of stuffy politicians and academics.
When Dasaratha was a young man, he'd inherited a colossal fortune. He right away built the house of his dreams and married the woman of his dreams, Kausalya.
They'd had a son and named him Rama, which means The Great Delight.
But soon it was made quite apparent that they had nothing in common but love. The fights, the cold shoulders, it all ended in a nasty divorce.
Kausalya fought for full custody rights of the baby. Dasaratha hated doing it, but he let her take him.
*
The house seemed so big with no one in it. So Dasaratha married again, this time to a woman named Sumitra. She was sweet and kind, and soon twin boys, Lakshman and Satrughna, were born to them.
They lived happily together for several years. But one rainy day, the doorbell rang.
Five year old Lakshman ran to get the door, where a seven year old Rama stood. He’d been sent back to his father, with nothing from his mother save a note that read she "just couldn't deal."
Dasaratha welcomed his son back with open arms. But Sumitra didn't know anything about Rama, or the previous marriage.
So she left him, to start “a life without lies.” as she put it. This life did not include her children.
Dasaratha coped for another year, before he met Kaikeyi.
Kaikeyi was beautiful and clever. She accepted Rama and the twins as if they were her own.
Dasaratha knew this time it would work out. Kaikeyi was ready to try it too. So they got married.
And soon, Bharat came along to join the family. He was cute and very smart, although not at all social. But everywhere he went people followed.
The only person he liked following him, however, was the younger twin, Satrughna. They went everywhere together. Satrughna was Bharat's personal bodyguard.
And if Satrughna was Bharat's bodyguard, Lakshman was Rama's faithful shadow. The twins were nothing alike, in looks or behavior. He was a young genius, so he was at the same level as Rama. He had a way with words, unlike Satrughna. He was the only one who could get away with insulting Rama.
Because to most people's eyes, Rama was perfect. He always looked impeccable, with perfect hair and clothes. He was extremely smart. Everything he did was well thought through, and he could do almost anything. Every girl at their school had fallen for Rama at one point or another. But Rama wasn't interested in romance-- he simply wanted to advance with his studies.
They always paired off like that- Rama with Lakshman and Satrughna with Bharat. But they didn't compete with each other. The relationship of the entire family was one that would be the envy of any average modern day family.
People who walked by often just stopped and stared at it.
The stark bricks of the houses around it made a nice background for the glowing white marble. Some would say it looked quite Grecian (just because of the marble), while those who knew of the difference would agree that the style was completely South Asian.
Whatever the style was, it stuck out like a sore thumb on the street of stuffy brick buildings.
And the people who lived inside stuck out even more, on this street of stuffy politicians and academics.
When Dasaratha was a young man, he'd inherited a colossal fortune. He right away built the house of his dreams and married the woman of his dreams, Kausalya.
They'd had a son and named him Rama, which means The Great Delight.
But soon it was made quite apparent that they had nothing in common but love. The fights, the cold shoulders, it all ended in a nasty divorce.
Kausalya fought for full custody rights of the baby. Dasaratha hated doing it, but he let her take him.
*
The house seemed so big with no one in it. So Dasaratha married again, this time to a woman named Sumitra. She was sweet and kind, and soon twin boys, Lakshman and Satrughna, were born to them.
They lived happily together for several years. But one rainy day, the doorbell rang.
Five year old Lakshman ran to get the door, where a seven year old Rama stood. He’d been sent back to his father, with nothing from his mother save a note that read she "just couldn't deal."
Dasaratha welcomed his son back with open arms. But Sumitra didn't know anything about Rama, or the previous marriage.
So she left him, to start “a life without lies.” as she put it. This life did not include her children.
Dasaratha coped for another year, before he met Kaikeyi.
Kaikeyi was beautiful and clever. She accepted Rama and the twins as if they were her own.
Dasaratha knew this time it would work out. Kaikeyi was ready to try it too. So they got married.
And soon, Bharat came along to join the family. He was cute and very smart, although not at all social. But everywhere he went people followed.
The only person he liked following him, however, was the younger twin, Satrughna. They went everywhere together. Satrughna was Bharat's personal bodyguard.
And if Satrughna was Bharat's bodyguard, Lakshman was Rama's faithful shadow. The twins were nothing alike, in looks or behavior. He was a young genius, so he was at the same level as Rama. He had a way with words, unlike Satrughna. He was the only one who could get away with insulting Rama.
Because to most people's eyes, Rama was perfect. He always looked impeccable, with perfect hair and clothes. He was extremely smart. Everything he did was well thought through, and he could do almost anything. Every girl at their school had fallen for Rama at one point or another. But Rama wasn't interested in romance-- he simply wanted to advance with his studies.
They always paired off like that- Rama with Lakshman and Satrughna with Bharat. But they didn't compete with each other. The relationship of the entire family was one that would be the envy of any average modern day family.
Chapter Two
“What do you want to do?”
Rama looked up from his book. “What?”
His brother flopped down on the couch beside him.
“For college.” Lakshman was holding a large pamphlet listing colleges in India.
“Oh.” Rama looked back to his book. “I’m going for Political Science.”
“Right. Where is that offered?”
Rama looked up again. “Pretty much everywhere.” Turning back, he tried to find where he’d left off.
“Well, where have you decided to go?”
Rama gave up on his book. Looking up with an exasperated sigh, he closed the book with a thump. “I thought you chose your major.”
Lakshman half-laughed. “We have all year to choose.”
“Which college do you like?” Rama asked.
“Well, obviously I’m going to this one.” Lakshman pointed to the tiny printed name on the pamphlet. It was the exact one Rama had circled in red pen months earlier as his first choice.
Rama’s exam grades had been almost perfect, so he got into every university he’d chosen1. Of course he’d chosen to attend the most impressive, the current best college in India, the University of Delhi.
“You could go somewhere else.” Rama laughed. Lakshman followed him everywhere. Old Faithful.
Lakshman waved his hand. “You do all the work for me. And my scores were just as good as yours. I can go wherever I want.”
“So you rely on me for making all the decisions.” Rama laughed.
“That’s hardly a healthy relationship, Lakshman.” Lakshman’s twin, Satrughna, came into the room.
“He’s just too lazy.” Bharat following close behind Satrughna.
“Right.” Lakshman rolled his eyes.
“How can you not know what you want to do though?” Bharat asked Lakshman.
“I dunno.” Lakshman shrugged. “I just don’t”
“He’s waiting for me to decide for him.” Rama grinned.
“Well, I already know what I want to do.” Bharat stuck up his nose at Lakshman.
“Humph.” Lakshman buried his nose in the pamphlet he was holding.
*
Saturday mornings at the Ayodhya household was a quiet affair. The family took their seats at the table, where plates of food were set out by the servants. Naturally, everyone was still half-asleep, so not much conversation went on.
So when the doorbell rang, the sound seemed about four times as loud as it normally did.
The family looked at each other in shock. Someone was at the door at eight o’clock in the morning on a Saturday. Didn’t anyone have manners?
They heard the quiet sounds of a maid opening the door, and a rough male voice.
The maid appeared in the dining room. “There’s someone to see you, sir.”
Dasaratha looked longingly at his plate, but got up to see the visitor.
“He wants to see the boys too.” The maid blushed slightly.
Rama and Lakshman stood up. When anyone referred to ‘the boys’ it always meant the two older boys. Unless it was explicitly specified, Satrughna and Bharat were never included. But the older two always told them everything anyways, and they didn’t have to leave their breakfasts. So all in all, it was a perfectly fine system.
The visitor in question was a tall man, who seemed to be in his early forties, his hair already gone grey. He cut an imposing figure in the main entrance hall, his black utilitarian clothing making a slight silhouette.
“Apologies for the unexpected visit.” The man’s voice was smooth, and a bit commanding, as if he wasn’t used to being ordered around.
“Of course.” Dasaratha’s voice was stiff.
“I’ve been sent by the high school.” The man nodded to the two boys. “My name is Vishvamitra.”
“Why, exactly, did they send you?” Dasaratha’s voice was still cold, despite Vishvamitra’s attempts at being polite. “My boys are the top of their classes, and have already been accepted to the college of their choice.”
Lakshman fidgeted, but didn’t say anything.
“That’s exactly why they sent me.” Vishvamitra smiled, noticing Lakshman’s uneasiness. “I’m what you call an advanced tutor.”
“What?”
“An advanced tutor.” Vishvamitra repeated. “I work with particularly gifted and talanted students to further their potential even more.”
“I don’t think my boys need extra help.” Dasaratha told him. “They’re doing fine.”
“But they could do better.”
“I really don’t think this is necessary.” Dasaratha stepped away. “Thank you.”
Luckily, Vishvamitra knew when to quit. “Very well then.” He steeped out the door.
As soon as the door had clicked shut, Rama turned to his father. “Are you sure? It sounds rather interesting.”
Dasaratha shook his head. “It’s a ploy to get more of our money.”
Lakshman shook his head. “I don’t think so. He seems pretty genuine.”
“He’s not.”
And that was the end of the conversation.
*
Over the next day, Rama and Lakshman broached the subject with their father several times. Every time he refused to talk about it.
Finally they resorted to pleading. The idea had grown in proportion, and now the boys absolutely had to get their father to agree to it.
“The whole rest of the year at school we’ll be doing nothing.” Lakshman told his father. “If we do this program, we’ll be able to have an interesting last year.”
Rama nodded in agreement.
Dasaratha looked at Rama. “Do you want this as well?”
Rama sighed. Oblivious to everything until the last minute. “Yes. I do.”
“Well then.”
And that was the end of that conversation.
Rama looked up from his book. “What?”
His brother flopped down on the couch beside him.
“For college.” Lakshman was holding a large pamphlet listing colleges in India.
“Oh.” Rama looked back to his book. “I’m going for Political Science.”
“Right. Where is that offered?”
Rama looked up again. “Pretty much everywhere.” Turning back, he tried to find where he’d left off.
“Well, where have you decided to go?”
Rama gave up on his book. Looking up with an exasperated sigh, he closed the book with a thump. “I thought you chose your major.”
Lakshman half-laughed. “We have all year to choose.”
“Which college do you like?” Rama asked.
“Well, obviously I’m going to this one.” Lakshman pointed to the tiny printed name on the pamphlet. It was the exact one Rama had circled in red pen months earlier as his first choice.
Rama’s exam grades had been almost perfect, so he got into every university he’d chosen1. Of course he’d chosen to attend the most impressive, the current best college in India, the University of Delhi.
“You could go somewhere else.” Rama laughed. Lakshman followed him everywhere. Old Faithful.
Lakshman waved his hand. “You do all the work for me. And my scores were just as good as yours. I can go wherever I want.”
“So you rely on me for making all the decisions.” Rama laughed.
“That’s hardly a healthy relationship, Lakshman.” Lakshman’s twin, Satrughna, came into the room.
“He’s just too lazy.” Bharat following close behind Satrughna.
“Right.” Lakshman rolled his eyes.
“How can you not know what you want to do though?” Bharat asked Lakshman.
“I dunno.” Lakshman shrugged. “I just don’t”
“He’s waiting for me to decide for him.” Rama grinned.
“Well, I already know what I want to do.” Bharat stuck up his nose at Lakshman.
“Humph.” Lakshman buried his nose in the pamphlet he was holding.
*
Saturday mornings at the Ayodhya household was a quiet affair. The family took their seats at the table, where plates of food were set out by the servants. Naturally, everyone was still half-asleep, so not much conversation went on.
So when the doorbell rang, the sound seemed about four times as loud as it normally did.
The family looked at each other in shock. Someone was at the door at eight o’clock in the morning on a Saturday. Didn’t anyone have manners?
They heard the quiet sounds of a maid opening the door, and a rough male voice.
The maid appeared in the dining room. “There’s someone to see you, sir.”
Dasaratha looked longingly at his plate, but got up to see the visitor.
“He wants to see the boys too.” The maid blushed slightly.
Rama and Lakshman stood up. When anyone referred to ‘the boys’ it always meant the two older boys. Unless it was explicitly specified, Satrughna and Bharat were never included. But the older two always told them everything anyways, and they didn’t have to leave their breakfasts. So all in all, it was a perfectly fine system.
The visitor in question was a tall man, who seemed to be in his early forties, his hair already gone grey. He cut an imposing figure in the main entrance hall, his black utilitarian clothing making a slight silhouette.
“Apologies for the unexpected visit.” The man’s voice was smooth, and a bit commanding, as if he wasn’t used to being ordered around.
“Of course.” Dasaratha’s voice was stiff.
“I’ve been sent by the high school.” The man nodded to the two boys. “My name is Vishvamitra.”
“Why, exactly, did they send you?” Dasaratha’s voice was still cold, despite Vishvamitra’s attempts at being polite. “My boys are the top of their classes, and have already been accepted to the college of their choice.”
Lakshman fidgeted, but didn’t say anything.
“That’s exactly why they sent me.” Vishvamitra smiled, noticing Lakshman’s uneasiness. “I’m what you call an advanced tutor.”
“What?”
“An advanced tutor.” Vishvamitra repeated. “I work with particularly gifted and talanted students to further their potential even more.”
“I don’t think my boys need extra help.” Dasaratha told him. “They’re doing fine.”
“But they could do better.”
“I really don’t think this is necessary.” Dasaratha stepped away. “Thank you.”
Luckily, Vishvamitra knew when to quit. “Very well then.” He steeped out the door.
As soon as the door had clicked shut, Rama turned to his father. “Are you sure? It sounds rather interesting.”
Dasaratha shook his head. “It’s a ploy to get more of our money.”
Lakshman shook his head. “I don’t think so. He seems pretty genuine.”
“He’s not.”
And that was the end of the conversation.
*
Over the next day, Rama and Lakshman broached the subject with their father several times. Every time he refused to talk about it.
Finally they resorted to pleading. The idea had grown in proportion, and now the boys absolutely had to get their father to agree to it.
“The whole rest of the year at school we’ll be doing nothing.” Lakshman told his father. “If we do this program, we’ll be able to have an interesting last year.”
Rama nodded in agreement.
Dasaratha looked at Rama. “Do you want this as well?”
Rama sighed. Oblivious to everything until the last minute. “Yes. I do.”
“Well then.”
And that was the end of that conversation.
Chapter Three
Vishvamitra led the two boys out of the school building.
"Hang on." Lakshman paused. "I thought we were going to do tutoring stuff."
"Like what?" Vishvamitra turned around.
"I dunno." Lakshman shrugged. "Maybe teach us Calculus Three and Four? Or maybe another college course? Like neurobiology?”
Vishvamitra put his hands together behind his head. "But you could do that in an afternoon."
Lakshman preened at the compliment. "But what are you going to actually teach us?"
Vishvamitra looked amused. "You both know how to calculate the slope of a hyperbola, and the formula for the area of the curve of a quadratic equation."
The boys didn't deny it.
"But," Vishvamitra continued, "Do you know the average wage for an underage waitress in a corner café? Do you know the reasons why so many kids drop out of school as freshman? Can you tell me how a cultural minority maintains its singularity in the black hole of assimilation that is today's culture? What about how every single underpaid worker lives their lives?"
Lakshman was ready with a retort, as usual. "Well, who would know that? All those questions require major amounts of research. Which, if you'd have let me keep my iPad, I'd have no problem finding out those answers."
Vishvamitra smiled. "So you'd research the answers, is that it?"
Lakshman nodded, a smug smirk playing over his lips.
"What about you, Rama?"
Rama looked at the tutor, a bemused expression on his face. He knew where this was going.
Vishvamitra smiled bigger.
Lakshman looked between the two of them. "What?! I don't understand! What's going on?”
Rama turned to his brother. "We don't know anything important. We can spit back random facts and do calculus problems, but we don't have any knowledge of how the real world works. Which is what we're going to learn about, correct?"
"Spot on." Vishvamitra looked impressed. "Good job."
Lakshman rolled his eyes. "I could be learning IMPORTANT things at home right now."
"Like playing Angry Birds?" Rama shot a look at Lakshman. "Listen, I think this'll be really fun. Stick it out, okay?"
Lakshman sighed, but fell into step behind Rama as Vishvamitra led the way into the city.
*
“...So, what exactly are we doing now?” He asked after a while. Rama and Vishvamitra seemed perfectly content in silence.
Vishvamitra looked around at him. “We’re going to go meet some people.”
“What kind of people?”
Vishvamitra smiled. “Just people.”
He stopped outside a corner clothing store. It was fairly busy, people going in and out. A family crouched outside on the sidewalk. The mother was holding a dirty paper cup with several dollars inside. The two little girls were playing with some stray pebbles they’d found on the street.
Vishvamitra crouched down beside the woman and began speaking to her in a soft voice.
Rama and Lakshman stood uncomfortably and watched their teacher.
After a minute or two, Vishvamitra looked up at the two boys. “Why don’t you two play with the girls?”
He turned back to his quiet conversation.
The two boys looked at each other in confusion before Rama shrugged and knelt beside the girls.
“Hey.” he said, quietly.
The girls looked up at him as Lakshman sat down as well.
The older girl shoved a pebble into Rama’s hands. “You be the guy. He’s getting married to this one.” She held up her pebble.
Rama nodded, smiling. He held out his pebble so that the girl could press hers up against it.
*
“What was the point of that?” Lakshman asked Vishvamitra as they were walking home.
“Did you have fun?”
Lakshman rolled his eyes. “Not really, no. But I’m sure Rama had fun, marrying off pebbles.”
“Did you ask the girls anything?”
Lakshman hadn’t really been paying attention to the game. He’d been trying to eavesdrop on the whispers between the mother and their teacher.
“They said their dad was lost.” Rama said quietly. “Presumed dead.”
“Oh.” Lakshman’s arguments suddenly lost their appeal.
Vishvamitra nodded. “The father went missing a year ago. The family tried to get police and government help, but they were too poor. Currently they’re barely surviving off of government welfare. They live in a lean-to in an underground water cistern with many other families who are worse-off than they are.”
This information sobered Lakshman quite quickly. “But why would you take us to meet them? We don’t exactly need to relate with them.”
“You’ve lived in your happy little bubbles for your entire lives.” Vishvamitra pointed out. “There are people, right here, right now, that are suffering quite terribly and you had no idea. You need to open your eyes up to what’s happening right under your noses.”
“Until now.” Rama pointed out.
Vishvamitra nodded. “Until now.” he confirmed.
"Hang on." Lakshman paused. "I thought we were going to do tutoring stuff."
"Like what?" Vishvamitra turned around.
"I dunno." Lakshman shrugged. "Maybe teach us Calculus Three and Four? Or maybe another college course? Like neurobiology?”
Vishvamitra put his hands together behind his head. "But you could do that in an afternoon."
Lakshman preened at the compliment. "But what are you going to actually teach us?"
Vishvamitra looked amused. "You both know how to calculate the slope of a hyperbola, and the formula for the area of the curve of a quadratic equation."
The boys didn't deny it.
"But," Vishvamitra continued, "Do you know the average wage for an underage waitress in a corner café? Do you know the reasons why so many kids drop out of school as freshman? Can you tell me how a cultural minority maintains its singularity in the black hole of assimilation that is today's culture? What about how every single underpaid worker lives their lives?"
Lakshman was ready with a retort, as usual. "Well, who would know that? All those questions require major amounts of research. Which, if you'd have let me keep my iPad, I'd have no problem finding out those answers."
Vishvamitra smiled. "So you'd research the answers, is that it?"
Lakshman nodded, a smug smirk playing over his lips.
"What about you, Rama?"
Rama looked at the tutor, a bemused expression on his face. He knew where this was going.
Vishvamitra smiled bigger.
Lakshman looked between the two of them. "What?! I don't understand! What's going on?”
Rama turned to his brother. "We don't know anything important. We can spit back random facts and do calculus problems, but we don't have any knowledge of how the real world works. Which is what we're going to learn about, correct?"
"Spot on." Vishvamitra looked impressed. "Good job."
Lakshman rolled his eyes. "I could be learning IMPORTANT things at home right now."
"Like playing Angry Birds?" Rama shot a look at Lakshman. "Listen, I think this'll be really fun. Stick it out, okay?"
Lakshman sighed, but fell into step behind Rama as Vishvamitra led the way into the city.
*
“...So, what exactly are we doing now?” He asked after a while. Rama and Vishvamitra seemed perfectly content in silence.
Vishvamitra looked around at him. “We’re going to go meet some people.”
“What kind of people?”
Vishvamitra smiled. “Just people.”
He stopped outside a corner clothing store. It was fairly busy, people going in and out. A family crouched outside on the sidewalk. The mother was holding a dirty paper cup with several dollars inside. The two little girls were playing with some stray pebbles they’d found on the street.
Vishvamitra crouched down beside the woman and began speaking to her in a soft voice.
Rama and Lakshman stood uncomfortably and watched their teacher.
After a minute or two, Vishvamitra looked up at the two boys. “Why don’t you two play with the girls?”
He turned back to his quiet conversation.
The two boys looked at each other in confusion before Rama shrugged and knelt beside the girls.
“Hey.” he said, quietly.
The girls looked up at him as Lakshman sat down as well.
The older girl shoved a pebble into Rama’s hands. “You be the guy. He’s getting married to this one.” She held up her pebble.
Rama nodded, smiling. He held out his pebble so that the girl could press hers up against it.
*
“What was the point of that?” Lakshman asked Vishvamitra as they were walking home.
“Did you have fun?”
Lakshman rolled his eyes. “Not really, no. But I’m sure Rama had fun, marrying off pebbles.”
“Did you ask the girls anything?”
Lakshman hadn’t really been paying attention to the game. He’d been trying to eavesdrop on the whispers between the mother and their teacher.
“They said their dad was lost.” Rama said quietly. “Presumed dead.”
“Oh.” Lakshman’s arguments suddenly lost their appeal.
Vishvamitra nodded. “The father went missing a year ago. The family tried to get police and government help, but they were too poor. Currently they’re barely surviving off of government welfare. They live in a lean-to in an underground water cistern with many other families who are worse-off than they are.”
This information sobered Lakshman quite quickly. “But why would you take us to meet them? We don’t exactly need to relate with them.”
“You’ve lived in your happy little bubbles for your entire lives.” Vishvamitra pointed out. “There are people, right here, right now, that are suffering quite terribly and you had no idea. You need to open your eyes up to what’s happening right under your noses.”
“Until now.” Rama pointed out.
Vishvamitra nodded. “Until now.” he confirmed.
Chapter Four
Lakshman fingered the tiny paper crane he'd been given. It had been almost a month since he and Rama had started learning with Vishvamitra.
The red paper crinkled as Lakshman held it gently, dwelling on the little boy who'd given it to him, in exchange for being taught how to write his name.
Rama nudged his brother's shoulder. "Good day?".
Lakshman realized a slightly dumb smile had been spreading across his face and quickly wiped it away. "I guess so."
Vishvamitra paused in their walk back home. "Why don't we stop here?" He gestured to a small deli.
If there was anything the boys had learned in their weeks with the tutor, it was that he very rarely did anything for no reason.
Lakshman was instantly suspicious. "Why?"
Rama shrugged and nodded. "Okay." He was always more flexible.
Lakshman shook his hair out of his face. They were going to regret this.
The shop was very small, and almost empty. The three men took at seat at one of the red checkered tables and waited for someone to come by.
When someone finally did, it was a sour faced old man who grunted like a caveman. He took their order and they could hear him yelling at someone as he went into the kitchen again.
That someone turned out to be a very young girl, who hurried out of the kitchen's double doors, arms full of plates.
She happened to meet Rama's eyes as she was going across the restaurant.
Her eyes widened and her cheeks turned red.
His eyes widened as, almost in slow motion, she stepped on her untied shoelace and fell, spilling everything she was carrying all over herself and the floor.
Rama was out of his seat helping her up, before anyone else had registered what had happened.
"I'm so sorry." He kept saying. "I distracted you."
"It's fine." She kept muttering. "Really. You don't have to help."
He looked right at her then. "Of course I-"
And then something happened.
As his eyes met hers, Rama fell head over heels for a girl he barely knew.
Because she was perfect.
Her eyes were chocolate brown, like his own, but instead of being like dark windows into the secrets of time, like his were, her eyes were happy and bright, like she was laughing at some joke only she knew.
Her hair was obviously dyed much lighter, as the roots were a brown colour, much like his own carefully tousled locks.
"Do you want to give that to me?" She (How could he not know her name? It seemed like they'd known each other forever!) pressed him, reaching for the soiled napkins in his hands.
He swallowed thickly and gave them to her. Their fingers brushed and it gave him thrills.
She smiled at him then. "Thanks. Really. Not many people would do that."
"You haven't met many decent people then." He could always trust his brain to give him the right lines.
"Not working here." She stood up. "I'll get your order out here soon, don't worry."
She disappeared into the kitchen.
Lakshman stared as Rama made his way back to the table. "What was that?"
Rama fumbled for an appropriate answer that encompassed his feelings at the moment.
Lakshman shook his head. "Don't stress yourself out. I know what happened. You just developed something called a 'crush'. Are you familiar with that word? No. Because all you've cared about these past few years is your grades and college acceptance. No time for romance. Wasting the best years of your life on education."
Rama didn't hear anything that came out Lakshman's mouth. Because she'd come out of the kitchen again, carrying their plates of food over.
She smiled as she set out their plates.
Rama smiled slightly idiotically through the rest of the meal. He kept wondering what he should do.
He assumed Lakshman would know. His brother knew a scary amount of relationship stuff.
He'd have to ask when they weren't accompanied by their tutor.
He was planning the next visit to this exact shop as they were leaving. He made up several scenarios that all resulted in the exchanging of names and numbers.
Rama was halfway out the door when she dashed up to him and shoved a crumpled piece of paper into his hand.
He discreetly opened it as he trailed behind his brother and tutor. Scrawled in fairly neat, curly writing was the name Sita, and a request to meet her the next morning at the fountain in the middle of the city.
Sita.
She was absolutely perfect.
What was he going to do?
-Sita-
The real question was, what was she going to do?
She'd been carrying those plates across the floor, and had just happened to look over at him.
Her foot had caught on her untied bootlace, and she'd watched his eyes go wide as she crashed to the floor.
The next thing she knew, she was lying in a puddle of ketchup on the floor while the boy mopped up around her, apologizing quite profusely.
It was probably the stupidest thing she’d ever done in her life to give him the paper with her name on it. But something in her mind had made her do it.
She couldn't contain her excitement for the next day.
The red paper crinkled as Lakshman held it gently, dwelling on the little boy who'd given it to him, in exchange for being taught how to write his name.
Rama nudged his brother's shoulder. "Good day?".
Lakshman realized a slightly dumb smile had been spreading across his face and quickly wiped it away. "I guess so."
Vishvamitra paused in their walk back home. "Why don't we stop here?" He gestured to a small deli.
If there was anything the boys had learned in their weeks with the tutor, it was that he very rarely did anything for no reason.
Lakshman was instantly suspicious. "Why?"
Rama shrugged and nodded. "Okay." He was always more flexible.
Lakshman shook his hair out of his face. They were going to regret this.
The shop was very small, and almost empty. The three men took at seat at one of the red checkered tables and waited for someone to come by.
When someone finally did, it was a sour faced old man who grunted like a caveman. He took their order and they could hear him yelling at someone as he went into the kitchen again.
That someone turned out to be a very young girl, who hurried out of the kitchen's double doors, arms full of plates.
She happened to meet Rama's eyes as she was going across the restaurant.
Her eyes widened and her cheeks turned red.
His eyes widened as, almost in slow motion, she stepped on her untied shoelace and fell, spilling everything she was carrying all over herself and the floor.
Rama was out of his seat helping her up, before anyone else had registered what had happened.
"I'm so sorry." He kept saying. "I distracted you."
"It's fine." She kept muttering. "Really. You don't have to help."
He looked right at her then. "Of course I-"
And then something happened.
As his eyes met hers, Rama fell head over heels for a girl he barely knew.
Because she was perfect.
Her eyes were chocolate brown, like his own, but instead of being like dark windows into the secrets of time, like his were, her eyes were happy and bright, like she was laughing at some joke only she knew.
Her hair was obviously dyed much lighter, as the roots were a brown colour, much like his own carefully tousled locks.
"Do you want to give that to me?" She (How could he not know her name? It seemed like they'd known each other forever!) pressed him, reaching for the soiled napkins in his hands.
He swallowed thickly and gave them to her. Their fingers brushed and it gave him thrills.
She smiled at him then. "Thanks. Really. Not many people would do that."
"You haven't met many decent people then." He could always trust his brain to give him the right lines.
"Not working here." She stood up. "I'll get your order out here soon, don't worry."
She disappeared into the kitchen.
Lakshman stared as Rama made his way back to the table. "What was that?"
Rama fumbled for an appropriate answer that encompassed his feelings at the moment.
Lakshman shook his head. "Don't stress yourself out. I know what happened. You just developed something called a 'crush'. Are you familiar with that word? No. Because all you've cared about these past few years is your grades and college acceptance. No time for romance. Wasting the best years of your life on education."
Rama didn't hear anything that came out Lakshman's mouth. Because she'd come out of the kitchen again, carrying their plates of food over.
She smiled as she set out their plates.
Rama smiled slightly idiotically through the rest of the meal. He kept wondering what he should do.
He assumed Lakshman would know. His brother knew a scary amount of relationship stuff.
He'd have to ask when they weren't accompanied by their tutor.
He was planning the next visit to this exact shop as they were leaving. He made up several scenarios that all resulted in the exchanging of names and numbers.
Rama was halfway out the door when she dashed up to him and shoved a crumpled piece of paper into his hand.
He discreetly opened it as he trailed behind his brother and tutor. Scrawled in fairly neat, curly writing was the name Sita, and a request to meet her the next morning at the fountain in the middle of the city.
Sita.
She was absolutely perfect.
What was he going to do?
-Sita-
The real question was, what was she going to do?
She'd been carrying those plates across the floor, and had just happened to look over at him.
Her foot had caught on her untied bootlace, and she'd watched his eyes go wide as she crashed to the floor.
The next thing she knew, she was lying in a puddle of ketchup on the floor while the boy mopped up around her, apologizing quite profusely.
It was probably the stupidest thing she’d ever done in her life to give him the paper with her name on it. But something in her mind had made her do it.
She couldn't contain her excitement for the next day.
Chapter Five
The entire walk home, butterflies made popcorn in Sita’s stomach. She felt a sort of adrenaline high. She done something utterly stupid, something against every one of her “stay safe; stay invisible” rules, that she half expected to be snatched off the streets.
She hardly dared believe it when her feet thumped up the concrete steps to her trailer. The old brown door hung open on the broken hinges.
“Dad?” Sita called, as she made her way to the kitchen.
A loud snore came from the living room. Passed out again.
Sita sighed. She didn’t feel much like eating, and she knew her dad would be asleep until the next morning.
She settled for eating a package of ramen, dry, as she pulled her math homework out of her bag. The flavor mix puckered her tongue as she tried to put all thought of tomorrow out of her head in favor of homework.
Sometimes she wondered why she even bothered to go back to school. It would be much better for her and her father if she just went to work all day, and it would make supporting him much easier.
But then she thought of the opportunities that she could get if she just finished high school. Just high school.
She dreamed of college, but her rational mind told her that it wouldn’t be able to happen. She’d of course have to take the tests, but going to college would be much too difficult at the moment. She had to stay home and support her dad.
-Rama-
Anxiety was a new feeling for Rama. He wasn’t used to feeling jumpy or nervous. He had no reason to be.
But now there was Sita. He’d fallen completely head over heels for her and he wasn’t sure what to do.
That was a new feeling too. Not knowing what to do.
It was weird.
He tried to concentrate on work, writing an essay, or drawing a random picture. But his eyes and concentration kept being drawn back to the carefully smoothed out paper with her name on it. He was in deep, he knew it.
*
The morning air was cold, not yet heated by the sun beating down on the city. The tall morning shadows of the shielded the streets from the sun even more.
Sita could almost see her breath billowing in the air.
She’d carefully dressed in her best outfit, her least-worn jeans and a nice T-shirt. The older women who walked past her looked slightly mollified, but she wasn’t going to wear a sari to meet a boy.
Especially not that boy.
Ten minutes later, the streets were slightly more crowded. But Sita saw the carefully styled mop of hair bobbing toward her that could only belong to him.
He stopped in front of her. He was so cute.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi.” Sita smiled and blushed slightly.
Rama scrambled for something. “D’ya want to come get some breakfast?”
Sita grinned, inside. “Can I know your name first?”
A light blush coloured his cheeks. “Sorry. Yeah. It’s-- I’m Rama.”
“Okay.” She let her smile out. “Let’s go.”
-Two weeks later-
Rama stood outside the deli. Two minutes and forty seconds longer until Sita’s shift was over.
Thirty seconds.
Twenty seconds.
Ten sec-
“What are you doing here?”
Lakshman.
“Nothing.”
“Yeah right.” Rama could hear the sarcasm in his brother’s voice. “C’mon. Tell me.”
“I don’t need to.”
“You’re waiting randomly outside a deli.” Lakshman said. “There’s something going on.”
“There’s nothing going on. I swear.” Rama felt a little disloyal lying to his favorite brother. But he wanted to keep the relationship a secret until it was really for real.
But it didn’t take much to put the pieces together. “Oh my gosh.” Lakshman tugged at Rama’s sweater. “The waitress. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wasn’t sure if it would work out.”
“You’re waiting for her shift at work to be over. I’d say it’s working out pretty well.”
“Well, okay.” Rama allowed with a small smile. “It is.”
Lakshman grinned maniacally. “Do you mind if I meet her?”
Rama was instantly suspicious. “I don’t really think--”
“You came to pick me up?” Sita appeared in front of the brothers. “Who’s this?”
“I’m Lakshman.” He grinned and smoother his hair back. “I’m Rama’s brother.”
“Cool.” Sita glanced up at Rama. “Is he coming with us today?”
“Where are you going?” Lakshman asked.
“Just grabbing something to eat.” Rama said.
“Well, I’d love to go.” Lakshman cast puppy-dog eyes at Sita, “But I’m going to go meet some friends.”
“Okay.” Sita smiled. “Have fun.”
*
Lakshman walked slowly away, waiting for them to call him back. But they didn’t. He turned, and saw them walking the other direction, almost touching, but not quite. They were obviously completely obsessed with each other.
He was glad Rama had found something normal to do, other than just focusing on his education.
Now to go do something fun.
He was so happy for Rama.
So happy.
She hardly dared believe it when her feet thumped up the concrete steps to her trailer. The old brown door hung open on the broken hinges.
“Dad?” Sita called, as she made her way to the kitchen.
A loud snore came from the living room. Passed out again.
Sita sighed. She didn’t feel much like eating, and she knew her dad would be asleep until the next morning.
She settled for eating a package of ramen, dry, as she pulled her math homework out of her bag. The flavor mix puckered her tongue as she tried to put all thought of tomorrow out of her head in favor of homework.
Sometimes she wondered why she even bothered to go back to school. It would be much better for her and her father if she just went to work all day, and it would make supporting him much easier.
But then she thought of the opportunities that she could get if she just finished high school. Just high school.
She dreamed of college, but her rational mind told her that it wouldn’t be able to happen. She’d of course have to take the tests, but going to college would be much too difficult at the moment. She had to stay home and support her dad.
-Rama-
Anxiety was a new feeling for Rama. He wasn’t used to feeling jumpy or nervous. He had no reason to be.
But now there was Sita. He’d fallen completely head over heels for her and he wasn’t sure what to do.
That was a new feeling too. Not knowing what to do.
It was weird.
He tried to concentrate on work, writing an essay, or drawing a random picture. But his eyes and concentration kept being drawn back to the carefully smoothed out paper with her name on it. He was in deep, he knew it.
*
The morning air was cold, not yet heated by the sun beating down on the city. The tall morning shadows of the shielded the streets from the sun even more.
Sita could almost see her breath billowing in the air.
She’d carefully dressed in her best outfit, her least-worn jeans and a nice T-shirt. The older women who walked past her looked slightly mollified, but she wasn’t going to wear a sari to meet a boy.
Especially not that boy.
Ten minutes later, the streets were slightly more crowded. But Sita saw the carefully styled mop of hair bobbing toward her that could only belong to him.
He stopped in front of her. He was so cute.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi.” Sita smiled and blushed slightly.
Rama scrambled for something. “D’ya want to come get some breakfast?”
Sita grinned, inside. “Can I know your name first?”
A light blush coloured his cheeks. “Sorry. Yeah. It’s-- I’m Rama.”
“Okay.” She let her smile out. “Let’s go.”
-Two weeks later-
Rama stood outside the deli. Two minutes and forty seconds longer until Sita’s shift was over.
Thirty seconds.
Twenty seconds.
Ten sec-
“What are you doing here?”
Lakshman.
“Nothing.”
“Yeah right.” Rama could hear the sarcasm in his brother’s voice. “C’mon. Tell me.”
“I don’t need to.”
“You’re waiting randomly outside a deli.” Lakshman said. “There’s something going on.”
“There’s nothing going on. I swear.” Rama felt a little disloyal lying to his favorite brother. But he wanted to keep the relationship a secret until it was really for real.
But it didn’t take much to put the pieces together. “Oh my gosh.” Lakshman tugged at Rama’s sweater. “The waitress. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wasn’t sure if it would work out.”
“You’re waiting for her shift at work to be over. I’d say it’s working out pretty well.”
“Well, okay.” Rama allowed with a small smile. “It is.”
Lakshman grinned maniacally. “Do you mind if I meet her?”
Rama was instantly suspicious. “I don’t really think--”
“You came to pick me up?” Sita appeared in front of the brothers. “Who’s this?”
“I’m Lakshman.” He grinned and smoother his hair back. “I’m Rama’s brother.”
“Cool.” Sita glanced up at Rama. “Is he coming with us today?”
“Where are you going?” Lakshman asked.
“Just grabbing something to eat.” Rama said.
“Well, I’d love to go.” Lakshman cast puppy-dog eyes at Sita, “But I’m going to go meet some friends.”
“Okay.” Sita smiled. “Have fun.”
*
Lakshman walked slowly away, waiting for them to call him back. But they didn’t. He turned, and saw them walking the other direction, almost touching, but not quite. They were obviously completely obsessed with each other.
He was glad Rama had found something normal to do, other than just focusing on his education.
Now to go do something fun.
He was so happy for Rama.
So happy.
Annotated Bibliography
Vālmīki, and Joseph Gaer. The Adventures of Rama; the Story of the Great Hindu Epic. Ramayana,. Boston: Little, Brown, 1954. Print.
The adapted story version of the traditional epic poem. Factually accurate and theoretically easier to read. Much more detailed than the original poem. However, most details were fabricated. Contains just the story about Rama. However, it merits noting that because many versions of the Ramayana have been told through the ages, all will differ in some ways.
Valmiki. Ramayana. Print.
The traditional epic by Valmiki, the first writer of the Ramayana. Written in prose. Contains the entire epic. Translated from Hindi, so naturally some differences have occurred. However, in general, it is easy to read and understand. Almost all information about the publication of this story does not exist, as it’s older than any modern (or old-fashioned) types of data logging.
The adapted story version of the traditional epic poem. Factually accurate and theoretically easier to read. Much more detailed than the original poem. However, most details were fabricated. Contains just the story about Rama. However, it merits noting that because many versions of the Ramayana have been told through the ages, all will differ in some ways.
Valmiki. Ramayana. Print.
The traditional epic by Valmiki, the first writer of the Ramayana. Written in prose. Contains the entire epic. Translated from Hindi, so naturally some differences have occurred. However, in general, it is easy to read and understand. Almost all information about the publication of this story does not exist, as it’s older than any modern (or old-fashioned) types of data logging.