#Old Dhotis

[chaos-and-sparkles]

Presenting:

Prowler Pavitr <3<3

Here's Pavitr's design in my Prowler Pavitr au akjdskjdskjkskdsk! It's my au where Pavitr is a fallen hero who used to be Spider-Man and becomes the Prowler, fueled by rage against a world and a system that forced him to pretend at perfection and then only hurt him and the people he loves.

I love him so much,, I have so much stuff in progress about him rn (working on the fics too). Gonna have chaipunk front and center, and like four separate plot arcs, I'm so insane about this au actually -

Anyway here's some infodump about his design inspirations and symbolism I put in it, I loveeeee talking abt him:

Hair -

Okay so this is after some time, like a couple months since Pav became the Prowler, and he's grown his hair out a bit now. It's kind of a mix of rejection of the "masculine" standard of short cropped hair by flaunting his longer curls that he's always been proud of and even had to grow to love He also dyes his hair purple! Bc he didn't wanna cut his hair but he wanted to do something to set himself apart from his old identity and also he's literally an impulsive 17-18 year old and wanted to do something that felt like owning his own self and asserting autonomy over his body etc etc

Something Borrowed -

The tie that he's using to tie back his hair is his original blue headband!! It doesn't go with his outfit at all but It's the original blue headband that Maya Aunty got for him all those years ago that he's been wearing forever and it snapped and broke in the battle that preceded what happened to her, and he still keeps it and ties his hair back with it instead The nosering (nath) used to be Gayatri's, they used to try out her jewelry on him and he loved that one so much she gifted it to him, and since he's basically left his old life and gone no contact with her it's all he has left of Gaya too

Main Outfit -

His jacket is loosely based on Krrish's leather jacket from the Bollywood movie series that's about a superhero named Krrish. I just think it has the dramatique and vibe Pav would like He binds his chest bc he still hadn't had top surgery but he's way more open about it, with the binding showing through the neck of the jacket now where he would have never dared to hint at it before,,, another thing about how he doesn't care about people's opinions and perceptions and standards anymore, he wants to say fuck you as much to everything in the system as he can and also piss people off while he's at it and a trans antihero/villain is a surefire way to do that. His dhoti is basically a dhoti pant, modified a bit bc i liked it

He has payals on his feet that make a faint chhan chhan noise when he approaches which has creepiness and cuteness potential imo I basically turned the prowler logo into his dhoti belt buckle askjdsjk

It's also slightly modified to mimic a trishul or even a diya shape, up for interpretation either way, bc trishuls are a symbol of Shiva, god of destruction, and diyas are a symbol of light in the darkness and the need to find it Also the chain around the dhoti at his hips is both a reference to decorative dhoti chain accessories and the lil things on it are his modified grenades that he uses for arson, bc Prowler Pav is big on arson and murder ajajsjsj

Prowler Claws -

His bangles/claws were hands down my favourite part to design!!

So his claws are of course his original spiderman bangles modified into the prowler claws But i based them on three weapons, each of which means something interesting for Pavitr

The first is bagh nakh. Literally translates to "tiger claws", famously used in a legend of Shivaji Maharaj They usually curl into the palm instead of going between the fingers like they do for Pav, but they're basically metal claws wound secretly around your hand for a sneak attack It's associated with bravery and righteous rage bc of Shivaji Maharaj but it's also really associated with stealth and an attack from unexpected quarters, being stabbed from a side no one saw coming. Which. Pavitr. The perfect hero, becoming the Prowler. Come on

Second is the trishul, aka trident That's the reason there are three prongs to his claw Trishul is the symbol of the god Shiva, and as i mentioned he's the god of destruction, as in he's part of the main triumvirate of gods who focus on creation preservation and destruction He also is really really associated with rage, especially destructive rage; he has a whole dance called the tandava for his rage which is a Huge Deal I can't stress this enough And because Prowler Pav is a being fuelled by rage against a system that has hurt so many including him that he wants to destroy and see burned, it is perfect for him The trishul is also seen as a symbol of goddess Kali, who's similar in the destruction goddess aspect and also is literally an embodiment of rage and violence that cannot be controlled which is more the theme I started out with, but whichever you notice first, it works either way. There's a whole myth in fact where Shiva had to lie beneath her feet to stop her destructive rampage before it ended the world.

And lastly, the urumi, aka the whip sword from Kerala Basically each of Prowler Pav's claws extend into whip swords when he does the swing/slash/whip motion This is really interesting at least to me, bc it means 2 things: 1) Pav still remembers and is actively using some of his skillset from swinging around as Spiderman. He does use the urumis to curl around distant objects and swing too, and they are very lethal weapons when used right, and that use requires a lot of skill, huge parts of which he built up by his experience 2) This is a weapon which requires an unimaginable amount of control, precision and strength And Pav is doing all that So all of his actions, every movement, is very deliberate and thought out. He's not doing any of this - turning away from heroism, becoming the Prowler, using these lethal weapons - on a whim. They are all very very deliberate.

Also one more thing - the blades of his claws are all retractable ofc But they are not protected or anything They slice up his palms and the in-betweens of his fingers whenever he uses them,, especially when he uses them as urumis And it would be so easy to fix the design or make gloves or smth so they don't do that But he doesn't ever do it He could make it so his hands don't bleed on using his claws But he doesn't want to

He is an angsty boyo...

Mask -

The eyes are ofc like the prowler mask design except I made them more curved and curled at the end bc that's a kind of shape often seen in traditional art of the headdress of Kali, goddess of uncontrollable violence as I've said before Then the part between them is meant to be based off a third eye, which is something both Shiva and Kali have. It opens at the height of their rage, it's meant to symbolise destructive fury for them both Although it's also used in an all seeing context otherwise but a lot of whitewashed bullshit is also there that dilutes sources to find connotations His theyyam-based tusks from his Spider-Man mask, I wanted to keep

The shape below the eyes is based off the noses in masks in various regional Indian tribal and traditional masks,,, a lot of them tend to have a very distinctive curly nose shape that I wanted to keep, a lot of these masks also depict rage or are intimidating and are very emotive And then ofc you have the bottom of the mask, I made the curved-ish cut based on the peacock-feather-y shape i was using but it's also based on the general shape of Kali's lips in traditional art where she has her tongue out, it's a big symbol of her rage and rampage I tried to put the tongue too but it looked awkward and honestly i thought it would be cooler to jsut leave the bottom half of the mask open and you can see Pav's mouth and his expressions through it a bit instead, in the spirit of that And also it's based a little bit off Krrish's mask, you can never escape the Krrish design Also there's the lil teeth. Those are often used in art for demons and animals,, and Prowler Pav is very cat coded in his behaviour in general tbh. He's like if an orange cat's fur got burned to black.

Anyway, so yeah, that's him!

[kaalbela]

Sujani is a form of embroidery from Bihar in India. It is usually a quilt or bed spread, which was earlier made of old clothes, but is now generally made of easily available fabric with embroidery done with the most simple stitches with motifs narrating stories.

The word Sujani is a compound word of su meaning 'easy and facilitating' and jan meaning 'birth'. The earliest known traditional practice of making the embroidered Sujani quilt is traced to the 18th century. Its basic purpose was to give a soft cover to the newly born babies immediately after birth. It was then made with pieces of cloth in different colors derived from used saris and dhotis by sewing them together, adopting a simple running stitch. This process involved use of three or four patches of old saris or dhotis, fitted one over the other and then quilting them together using the thread that was also drawn from the discarded garments. Motifs expressing the mother's for her newborn child were sewn on the quilt, generally done with a chain stitch in dark color. The motifs sewn on the quilt represented sun and cloud, indicative of life-giving forces, fertility symbols, sacred animals, and mythical animals to protect against evil forces, and to attract blessings from the gods. Use of different shades of threads symbolized life's forces such as red, symbolic of blood and yellow denoting the sun. Sujani clothes and quilts are usually meant for winter wear. 

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 | textile series

[aru-loves-krishnaxarjuna]

KaJu

Pt.2 -> Masterlist

A day before the departure, Arjuna recieved an unusual parcel, or rather, a gift. From the one and only Vasudev Krishna. That boy was older than him by two years, and was from the royal family of the oligarchy kingdom, Dwarka.

Arjuna opened the box, and saw atypical but adorable blue stones, along with a small letter and a peacock feather.

Hope you like the small gift, Parth!

—Vasudev Krishna

'Why did he send only me a cute yet unusual gift like this? Because none of my Bhrata have got one. And Parth? Is he referring to me? Either way, i really love the name!' Arjuna thought as he kept away the stones in a part of his dhoti, and rummaged through the seven-tiered Chakravyuha formation.

"Arju?" Came Bheem's voice. Arjuna perked up as he jumped on the twenty-one year old lad, who caught him and twirled him in the air ruffling his younger brother's hairs.

"Bhrata Bheem!" Exclaimed Arjuna cheerfully. "Let me guess, you want to eat sweets together with all our brothers and discuss plans about the war tomorrow, right?" Bheem pulled Arjuna by the shoulder and grinned wide. "You guessed right! Now come on!" Vrikodar pulled Phalgun along, who just laughed.

"Yesterday was impressive! You fought sooo well!" Nakul said excitedly.

"I think we should get to serious topics now, Nakul. We have to go to war tomorrow." Said Yudhishthir, being his usual serious self. "As me and the others were discussing, you would have to lead us in the war, Phalgun."

"I agree. Because Panchal Raj is most likely to use that formation. We will clear the way for you." Sahadev added, with a gentle smile.

_–_–_–_–_–_–_–_–_–_–_–_–_–_–_–_–_–_–_–_–

It was a pretty windy day. It was still dark outside as he made his way to the stables to see his white pet horse. Arjuna had received him as a present just a few months ago; since he was a young warrior now, he could have a horse of his own. He had named him Vikramaditya — a rather fancy name for a horse. Vikram for short. Arjuna was really fond of him, and stroked and cuddled the animal as he drank water from his tub. As he headed towards the main halls, he heard raised voices coming clearly from a distance. Outside, in the main yard, Duryodhan was up bright and early before sunrise, having a full-blown argument with Drona, as many people looked on.

"But that is unfair, Acharya!"

"I am having none of it! He can not come!"

"But it will be much easier if he goes with us!"

"Then it means that you are not confident in your own skills!"

It was then that Arjuna noticed Karna standing beside Duryodhan, head lowered, jaw tightened in anger and shame. Drona hadn't initially recognised him at the ceremony, since they'd met after several years, but had known who he was the minute he'd introduced himself. Moments later, the argument was interrupted by Shakuni, who bowed before Drona. He already seemed to have something up his sleeve, like he always did.

"Respected Guru", he drawled, "Allow me to explain, if you please." He shoved Duryodhan aside and stepped in front of Drona. "I understand you do not wish to take along a man who isn't your pupil, but I assure you! You can most certainly take him along without letting him participate! You and your son are going as well, but neither of you are fighting. Similarly, you may take Angaraj with you. Let him stay back, but remember, Drupad is tough to defeat. Just in case your pupils find themselves in peril, you may send the King of Anga to their aid in an emergency. Not only would this benefit you, but also ensure that you have a second plan if your first one goes awry."

Drona hesitated. Shakuni had a point. After thinking for a few moments more, he relented. "Alright. He can come. But mind you, young man", he pointed a finger at Karna. "You can only join the battle of I order you to do so." Duryodhan and Karna nodded, looking pleased and relieved.

"What's going on?" said a boisterous voice behind Arjuna. He turned to see Bheem with Yudhishthir.

"King Karna of Anga will be joining us too." In response, Bheem scoffed and rolled his eyes. None of Arjuna's brothers took well to Karna, given that he was clearly on Duryodhan's side anyways.

As the princes arrived slowly and stood in front of their teacher, Drona addressed them. "Today is the day of the first battle of your lives. I want you all to do well. But be warned, Drupad is not an easy man to defeat, for he has the same knowledge of and training in warfare that I have imparted to all of you. It is my goal to defeat him with some of the greatest young warriors whom I have taught myself. If any of you are still a bit apprehensive about this, you are free to opt out of the Gurudakshina. Of those who choose to participate, I have faith you will not let me down."

Arjuna felt even more emboldened than before. He bit his lip, struggling to control the excitement from showing on his face. He would do it. They bade goodbye to the elders and set off. Panchal was not very far from Hastinapur, it was a journey of about nine hours on horseback and in chariot-cars. Since they had left in the early morning, they arrived in the middle of the afternoon. Panchal was comparatively smaller than Hastinapur but was blessed with picturesque landscapes worthy of portraits - sparkling lakes, long stretches of deep green meadows and rolling hills.

Without warning, the party marched into the capital of Kampilya. The citizens gathered on the street sides in astonishment and confusion, many shouted and ran out of their homes to watch what was happening. Drona and his pupils headed straight to the palace, and as they approached the gates, he addressed the royal guards in a booming voice:

"Hear, hear, guards of this gate! I hereby command you to call upon your Maharaj at this very moment! Tell him that his old friend, Drona, has finally come to fulfil his part of the bet!"

The guards had no time to protest: seeing a host of over a hundred young warriors all wielding various weapons sent them into a frenzy. They rushed inside at once, yelling out and within minutes, Drupad had come outside, a large army of soldiers in his wake.

Drona ordered the Pandavas, Karna and Ashwatthama to stand back, and sent the Kauravas inside first. All hundred and one brothers ran in like a stream of wild bulls, charging straight at Drupad, who stood back as his soldiers ran at the princes. Chaos ensued. Maces slammed into each other, arrows were shot from all ends, fearsome spears were thrown with great force and swords clashed all around. The fight continued for around twenty minutes. Karna waited eagerly, his bow ready, hoping he would be called, but Drona stood just as resolutely in front of him, watching the scene unfold.

The Pandavas and Ashwatthama stood to one side far from the huge gates, Arjuna and Ashwatthama gossiping like the old friends they were, with Nakul adding his two cents here and there between their conversation.

"Now is not the time to be talking or gossiping, Phalgun." Came Jyesht's voice, in response of which he gave a whine. "Why are you always ruining the fun!?"

The others nodded their heads and crossed their arms as Yudhishthir sweatdropped.

Drona turned to the Pandavas. "It is your turn now, Panduputro. Go." The five hadn't noticed when their literal hunded cousins came back; Duryodhan and Dushasan were the last ones to return, panting and out of breath. They were both a mess; Dushasan had a gash on his thigh and several bruises over his face; Duryodhan’s hair had become terribly untidy and dusty from having fallen several times, and he looked like he’d had the wind knocked out of him.

Bheem would have laughed at them if it wasn't for the serious matter ahead of him and his brothers. They all nodded and the five proceeded towards the gate as Drupad yelled something imperceptible at Drona again. As per the plan, Yudhishthir stayed at the gate, blocking it with his chariot; the twins stood far out on either side of him, preparing to jump on anyone who tried to attack their eldest brother or their teacher. Meanwhile, Bheem ran straight inside towards the army, clearing the path for Arjuna, who entered in his wake on Vikram. Bheem alone was enough to take a little over half of the army; he charged with full force, his mighty mace thrashing anyone who tried to stop him. Meanwhile, Arjuna started his work of breaking the Chakravyuha, while his brothers worked together to defeat all soldiers.

Arjuna repeatedly shot arrows that multiplied into hundreds at once, thus easily fending off the other half of the army. The seventeen year old rode with his head low; whenever his horse began to show signs of panic, he would rub his neck comfortingly, leading him in various directions away from any oncoming soldiers before turning round and shooting at them with impeccable aim.

Arjuna was almost near the center but that was when he saw the Panchal Raj outside the Chakravyuha. He was about to break the last layer and go but was stopped by a shout. "Return to your teacher, you insolent boy! Your Guru is as pathetic as he always was, using his students to fight this battle with me! What else can one expect from a coward? Return, I tell you! Or else you shall meet the same fate as the hundred who came before you!"

Arjuna felt his temper rising at hearing his teacher being insulted this way. He was now more determined than ever to successfully complete this task. He shot arrows at Drupad, who shot back immediately. They collided and fell lifeless to the cracked, sun-scorched earth.

As the fight continued however, many of Drupad's army personnel were left in awe as they looked on; they weren't going to intervene when their King was fighting another warrior; but what had surprised them was that, despite having a positional advantage of standing up high on an elephant (compared to the Rajkumar on the ground), their King was slowly but surely losing the fight.

No one could tell the small gap of a few seconds between Arjuna taking out arrows from his quiver and him finally releasing them. His movements were nimble, agile, skilful. At one point, Arjuna shot an arrow that grazed Drupad's shoulder. The force of it caused Drupad to lose his balance and fall off the elephant.

The former jumped off his horse and ran towards him. Now was his chance to trap Drupad. However, there was a flash of light and the next moment, there were five identical men standing in front of him. Arjuna's mouth fell slightly open. Drupad had used a spell of which he had no knowledge of, one that could create illusions of himself. The five Drupads all looked at him, each with a smug expression on his face, inviting him to capture one of them. There was no way he could tell the real Drupad apart.

And suddenly as one of the Drupad's slashed st him, he dodged at the last minute but the stone he had kept had fallen down.

Five pairs of eyes. The eyes. The eyes on the bluish pebbles…

And then it struck him. It was so sudden that for a moment he thought it was madness to believe it. But could it be? There was a tiny chance it was true. He stole a glance at the eyes of each Drupad. The man on the far left end was looking straight at the man to his own left. The three men from the right were also looking at the man to their right. All as if trying to imitate him. The man in question was staring right at Arjuna.

Then he knew. In a flash, he shot an arrow at the man standing second from the left. It transformed into ropes, which bound themselves around Drupad. The king let out a yell of surprise and stumbled backwards, as the remaining four illusions disappeared. Arjuna too let out an exclamation of triumph, "So there you are!" He couldn’t help but laugh. "You should have instructed your impostors not to make it so obvious that they were trying to copy you."

When Drupad was brought before Drona, he was fuming, humiliated at being defeated by a young boy. Drona was beaming yet again, both at Drupad's defeat and at his favourite student. The teacher and the king began a heated discussion, in which Drona agreed to let Drupad go if the latter gave him half his kingdom (as he had apparently promised to do several years ago before going back on his word). The raging king had to give in in order to be set free.

The Kauravas were sullen and grumpy at their inability to perform well, and at being outshined by their five cousins once again. Karna was dejected as he hadn't had a chance to take part, uet couldn't help but admire the younger archer. Bheem was elated as Drona praised him for his might and strength. Arjuna, Yudhishthir, Nakul and Sahadev each received hugs from Drona for their persistence and endeavours.

Though he was certainly happy at having successfully completed the Gurudakshina task, Arjuna's mind was far from praise and glory at the moment.

All he could think about were the five pebbles Krishna had sent him.

┏━━━━•❅•°•❈•°•❅•━━━•❅•°•❈•°•❅•━━━━┓

❍               ❍                ❍

┗━━━━•❅•°•❈•°•❅•━━━•❅•°•❈•°•❅•━━━━┛

Yudhishthir was crowned Yuvraj and Duryodhan wasn't able to swallow it down his evil throat. And that was again when Shakuni jumped in. They had planned about how they were going to burn the Pandavas alive and even convinced Raaj Maata Kunti, and Karna, still harboring Dharma in his mind, didn't take well to it. He excused himself. "Mitra, I am going to take some fresh air outside. I- I will meet up with you later on." And walked away without even waiting for Duryodhan's response.

As he walked down the corridors, Karna saw lotuses floating on the water of the fountains and remembered the Raaj Maata's face. He smiled as he took one and peoceeded towards the Queen Mother's room as it was the last time he would see her again.

Arjuna was the first one to arrive at his Kunti Maa's room, jumping all his way excitedly like the adorable child he was, because she had called them to talk and discuss about going to Varnavrat. As he reached outside door of her kaksh, he didn't notice Angaraj Karna behind him because he was coming from the other way and was almost there when they both heard voices and their conversation and it shocked them to the core.

Some lines have been taken from SuaveBlackSwan's book 'Mahabharata — a retelling' as well as inspired from my pyaari si Jiji @bharatiya-naari-sab-pe-bhaari :)

[ennaku-sirri-da]

It’s true love indeed

Day 6 of @smileformeweek : Again

[ ID: Traditional fanart colored digitally. It is of the game Smile For Me and involves the wedding ceremony of Trencil Varnnia and Jimothan Botch. It is of my AU Roseverse.

Jimothan and Trencil are getting married. In my interpretation they are both Indian, Jim is from the South and Trencils from the North. They are doing the Varmala ceremony. The garlands are made of colors of red, green and white flowers.

Jimothan is wearing his traditional dress, that is, a yellowish-white shirt and dhoti with gold trim, along with a shawl with gold trim draped on his left side. He also has a golden chain. On in his head is the tripundram mark. Footwear is dark sandals with toe rings. Jimothan has many healed scars, burns and bite marks from raising a difficult baby such as his son, Parsley. His dusty brown hair is streaked with lighter colors as a sign of aging.

Trencil is wearing his traditional dress, that is, a red turban decorated with beads and pearls, and a peacock feather to top it off, he wears a dark blue sherwani with pink floral patterns on it plus a dark green shawl covering most of his right side with yellow, pink, blue floral and teal-leaved patterns. He wears red dhoti pants with rose-pink jutti shoes that have purple floral patterns. On his face, he wears gold eyeshadow with glitter near his eyes. He has some of women's elements in his jewellery, like the gold and white maang tikka, with a gemmed flower shape as centerpiece. He also wears a nath and earrings with gold, white, red, pink- with floral motifs. On his hands is floral dark-red henna. In appearance, Trencil looks more old and wrinkled, with red eyes and claws as nails. His ears are also very long and droopy like a bat's. His hair is naturally black as can be seen at the ends but rest of it is dyed dark blonde.

Jimothan and Trencil looks at each other lovingly with smiles. Jim reaches a hand out to put the garland on Trencil while Trencil holds his arm. With their other hand they both hold up a brightly colored umbrella decorated with gold strips at its point, and mirror pieces through the body. Flowers and grass, with small white balls hedge the bottom, from them hangs arrangements of roses and white flowers strung together. The interior of the umbrella is a light pink, covering Jim and Trencil.

From either side, two hands throw pastel flower petals on the newlyweds. The text below reads , first in Tamil, red, " Botch " then black " weds" in English, then dark green "Varnnia" in Hindi. So it is " Botch weds Varnnia". The background is a gradient of, from top to bottom, light yellow, green, blue, pink. The whole picture has a warmer, orange tone to it.end ID]

//

They're getting married...again!!!!

Trencils wife is probably dead? And Jimothan is divorced from his. So yeah this is both of their second marriage.

Here's the rough sketch I did beforehand of both their full outfits if anyone wants to see, some things changed in the final product

[ ID: Pencil sketch showing Jimothan and Trencil standing, forward facing in the clothes I've described above, with few changes. End ID]

Man... do you think Trencil, hid Jimothans name in his henna🤭

Oh! In case you didn't read the image description-- they're both Indian in my headcanon. GOOOO!!!

Honestly if you're confused about some details reading the image description will help.

I think this is legitimately one of my BEST drawings of 2024, holy shit, also THEME SONG

[catpriciousmarjara]

Pavitr Prabhakar: The Design

Pavitr Prabhakar my beloved!

I love him. I absolutely love Pavitr and everything about him. And the best thing about him, other than his everything, is his design. So let's get to it!

PART 1: THE MASK

He was so cool and such a total sunshine but the most striking aspect was the immaculate design. Huge upgrade on his old model which was pretty much just a normal spider-suit with a white dhoti, which, not gonna lie, was just disappointing and underwhelming. But they went off on Pavitr's design in the movie and everyone's talking about it so let's also talk about it.

First of all,

LOOK AT MY BOY!!!

Just look at that design! So cool! So awesome! And so so Desi!!!

Its these desi aspects that I want to shed light on cos I know there are non-Indian fans who didn't catch a lot of the nuances cos they're not familiar enough with Indian culture and even Indian fans who didn't know about some details cos they aren't from the areas the inspiration for these elements were drawn from.

Mainly I hope to help artists and writers with this, so they have more information to create with, as well as the casual fans so they have more info and can immerse themselves better as well as appreciate just how much effort went into making this spectacular movie.

This might be a long post with me just rambling away so braze yourself people.

So lets get into it.

{WARNING: Infodump incoming}

First, lets start with the Mask

So here we have two different angles of his mask. The most prominent features of his mask are his eyes. There is a multi-layer outline for them in black, blue, red, and white, which of course are the classic spiderman colours but never quite used like this. Usually there is only a single outline in shades of, or adjacent colours of black, red, or white.

(Disclaimer: I'm not a 100% sure of this being actually the inspo behind the eyes. I'm pretty sure though, like 80%. So this has not been confirmed.)

The design for his eyes reminded me of one specific thing:

Koodiyattam, which is a 2000 year old ancient temple artform from the southern Indian state of Kerala. Koodiyattam is not just the only surviving Sanskrit theatre in the world, but it also includes elements of koothu, from the Sangam era, the golden age of Tamizh culture, and thus was declared by UNESCO as a Masterpiece of the Oral and Intangible Heritage of Humanity.

Below is a picture of a Koodiyattam performer.

Instantly you'll realize that this is a costume drama, with extensive makeup, and complicated dress, especially with regards to the headgear, and is overall similar to the Beijing opera, not in terms of make or design or performance, but rather in elaborateness of ensemble. Japanese art forms like Noh or Kabuki could also come to mind along with certain Balinese dances.

Here is another photo which will give you a better look.

Notice the layered eye makeup in black, red, and white.

Here we have a closeup of a different performer where you can see it even more clearly.

The first time I saw Pavitr's eyes on screen, this is what immediately came to my mind as someone interested in traditional theaters of all kinds. Notice that Koodiyattam extensively uses reds and blacks, along with whites, which is also the colour palette that most spiderpeople choose, which is a cool coincidence. Blue is not that heavily used unlike the others however, but you can see it more in some costumes but generally not in makeup.

If we're talking less of what it reminded me of and more in terms of what the actual inspiration for the eye design probably was, it was most likely Kathakali, Koodiyattam's much younger, more well known, and very popular relative.

As you can see, Kathakali took its cues for costuming from Koodiyattam. (Actually it took its costuming cues from earlier art forms called Krishnattam, and Ramanattam, but they took it from Koodiyattam so it works.)

Again you can see the layered eye makeup, most prominently in black. (Cool fact, the costume and makeup changes according to the characters being portrayed on stage.)

Below is a picture of a Kathakali character with more elaborate eye makeup.

(I know a lot of you might think its the same makeup as Koodiyattam but I promise you its not. Inspired yes, same no.)

Because of the elaborate makeup and costume, expression can be a challenge so the art forms make maximum use of exaggerated body movements, hand signs, dance, lyrics etc. But the crowning element of acting in Koodiyattam and Kathakali are the eye techniques and how much simple eye movements can convey to the audience, which if you think about it, is also the case for spider-people. They're the most expressive superheroes in any medium, but they're fully covered so a lot of their expressiveness, both in comics and animation is conveyed through the shape of the eyes, body language, and speech. Another cool coincidence.

Below is a link to a short video which gives an brief overview of Kathakali and the importance of eyes in its performance.

This second link is a closeup of the eye movements of a female Kathakali character (women characters are called 'Minukku'). It shows how these highly trained artists can even move their eyes according to music. I have been told this can be uncomfortable to watch for some people so here's a warning for those who find eyeballs discomfiting.

And finally this one right here is a link to a short video on Koodiyattam.

{All three of these links are mainly aimed at people who find this sort of stuff interesting and want to check them out so if you're not, you can scroll past it, no big deal!}

(Oh man this is getting way too long and more like me gushing about traditional theatre than spiderman. Sorry about that.)

Now lets get back to our boy Pavitr. The second most noticeable feature of his mask is the curved, white line underneath his eyes, which gives off the impression of tusks. The first two pictures on this post already show the lines quite clearly but I'll attach one more angle.

Something that immediately came to mind when I saw them was Theyyam but I wasn't sure until I saw this post.

This was the same account that talked about how Pavitr's movements are inspired from Kalaripayattu so I was inclined to trust this. And after this one of the animators did confirm this so I was right on the money.

What exactly is Theyyam?

It is an ancient Hindu folk ritual practiced in northern Kerala, predominantly in the North Malabar region. Its origins can be traced back to the neolithic and chalcolithic eras. And unlike Koodiyattam and Kathakali which are associated with temples and the Koothambalam(temple theatre where temple artforms are performed), Theyyam is performed in the open air in Kaavu, the sacred groves of Kerala. The Theyyam performers become channels and vessels for the gods. Connect this to the 'Great Weaver'/ 'Master Weaver' who gave Pavitr his powers.

(Btw, these sacred groves are also ecological treasure troves and one of the ancient ways of nature preservation and they're really cool so check them out if you can.)

Below are two images of different Theyyams.

[Puliyoor Kali Theyyam]

[Porrkali Theyyam]

See that on the cheeks? It resembles Pavitr's design closely right? While Pavitr's are drawn on his mask, these are singular metallic pieces, bound or clutched in the mouth to evoke the imagery and impression of tusks.

Theyyam is not alone in this particular imagery. A variety of folk arts use this, especially animism and folk rituals to show animal physical characteristics, as well as supernatural powers and elements.

For example, below is an image of Thirayttam, a ritual folk practice from the South Malabar region of Kerala. You can see the tusks here too. (Its not that clear, sorry about that.)

{Reminder: A lot of people think of Theyyam and Thirayattam as the same thing. While there are many similarities, with both being from the Malabar region, they are different practices. Theyyam is also called Tiṟa, and this is the main cause of the confusion but its not Thirayattam.}

Another example is Kalamezhuthu pattu, another religious folk art from Kerala. Mainly associated with the worship of the goddess Badhrakali, it is a sacred floor art done with powder and the result is called a Kalam. Below is a picture of a Kalam.

See those tusks? Yeah.

So they represent divinity, animal characteristics, inhuman powers etc.

[Interesting Info: Drawing Kalams are an integral part of Mudiyettu, a traditional ritual theatre and folk dance drama from Central Kerala. It is inscribed in the Representative List of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity. So do check it out if you're interested.]

{Oh my god I'm going off topic again. Come back bitch.}

To conclude, those lines are inspired by Theyyam markings, and stand for tusks and fangs, and as a spiderperson, who has the powers of a spider, gifted by some spiritual channel, its really apt that he was given such a design.

Next, lets talk about the lower half of Pavitr's mask.

See those delicate red webs underneath the eyes?

This also reminded me of Theyyam. Its overshadowed by the more vibrant aspects of the costume, but a Theyyam's face has these intricate red patterns as well.

(Look at those eyes, reminds you of Pavitr's eye design right?)

And as you can see in this next image, after the headgear is put on, the designs mainly concentrate on the lower half of the face, much like Pavitr's mask.

I admit I might be stretching this as web designs on the mask is a spiderman thing in general but I think I'm the pretty much on the dot on this one, and most likely its a combination of both.

[A 100% sure about that tusk thing though :)]

Also sometimes Theyyams would have these metallic eye coverings.

[Muchilot Baghavati Theyyam]

A closer look.

This is just my opinion but those silver eye masks kind of reminded me of the classic Spiderman eyes. Single colour, pupil-less, black outline, no idea how they see out of it etc. This one in particular reminded me of the classic spiderman especially with the eyes outlined in black like that.

Overall, the tusks, plus the thin web design on the mask, and the eyes, the spiderman red colour palette, they all evoked the image of Theyyam for me when I first saw Pavitr on screen.

{There is a very similar art form to Theyyam called Bhootakola in the coastal region of Karnataka, another southern Indian state. Those curious about Theyyam can check out the Kannada movie Kantara which deals with Bhootakola and you'll get an idea about Theyyam as well. The movie is awesome by the way. Watch it if you can.)

(This is getting way too long and image heavy. And I'm also going off tangent too much. Gotta wrap this up!)

Finally lets talk the last aspect of Pavitr's mask. This might actually be the feature that most of the non-Indian audience identified as Indian without anyone pointing it out.

I'm talking about the white, diamond shaped marking on Pavitr's forehead.

This decorative marking, bindi/pottu/tilaku, might actually be the most recognizable aspect of Indian culture across the world.

If you scroll back to all the previous images I provided, you can see some variation of this in all of them, either drawn on, or as an ornament. While there are some cultural differences in how they're worn, like women in southern India wearing them in all stage of life while their northern counterparts wear them only after marriage(I could be wrong about this, as I've seen children wearing them often, and things could've changed in modern times so please do correct me if I'm wrong), its one of the most common motifs you'll see across the country.

It can be a simple, round mark.

It can be ornamented.

It can be a different shape altogether.

(From the musical sequence 'Pinga' in the Hindi film Bajirao Mastani)

A different colour.

You get the idea.

Men can wear it as well. though styles and decoration maybe different.

(From the Tamizh film Ponniyin Selvan 1)

A more modern version.

Geography wise, the bindi/pottu/tilak is predominantly seen in India, but its also found in other countries of the Indian subcontinent and neighbouring nations, as well as South-East Asia(as they were both part of the ancient Indosphere and had a past of Hindu Kingdoms. See: Srivijaya(Sriwijaya) empire, Indonesia).

Similar forehead markings were even common in China in the past. Those who have seen wuxia and xianxia dramas and movies definitely have seen them before and know what I'm talking about. (Huadian 花鈿)

Religion wise, its predominantly a Hindu motif, but its also part of Buddhist, Jain, Sikh, as well as several other indigenous religions.

{I've actually seen several Indian Christians and Muslims wear it as well, because its their culture, even if its not their religion.}

EDIT: Gaaaaah! I forgot to include this even though I'd intended to from the beginning.

This is not about the mask but some of the prototype designs for Pavitr so I thought I'll just talk about them a bit here.

Again I can't believe all the effort that went into making this movie. Just look at those designs. Absolutely stellar and inspired. The colour palette itself is amazing.

Honestly everyone else just has no excuse anymore.

[I'll focus on the theatre aspect like I've been doing and talk about the architecture bit sometime else.]

This one is obviously the Theyyam inspired one.

(Look at the eyes of 4 and 3, you can see they're inspired by the silver eye-mask I mentioned before. Also the headband is silver and looks similar to the bands securing a theyyam's headgear in place.)

A lot more Theyyam elements than what made it to the final cut. Especially the jewellery and the sharp-eyed among you must've already noticed the similarity between the necklaces of the design and the necklaces of the theyyams whose images I provided. The bangles and the anklets are also very distinctively Theyyam and they're called Katakam and Chutakam respectively but the final design seems to have made the bangles gold and more bracelet-like, and the anklets more like ankle-cuffs.

(I so badly wish the necklace stayed in but yeah that could've hindered movement.)

Now lets come to the Yakshagana inspired one.

(Notice how the shape of the eyes have changed? And the colour palette took a turn? A lot more gold coming in.)

Yakshagana is a form of traditional theatre originating in modern day Karnataka state of India, and currently practiced in both Karnataka and Kerala. It is primarily an art form from the coastal Karnataka region and the neighbouring Kasargod district of Kerala.

Below is a link to more information on Yakshagana so you can take a look at the costuming and see the influences in the above prototype more clearly.

(I'm not gonna go into detail about all the design choices in the Yakshagana prototype, maybe in another post.)

Now lets come to the final prototype.

(Again the colour palette has shifted, a lot more greens and blues. I do believe that 8 is koothu and not Yakshagana even though it was included in the image above. I say that because of all the white in the design which is very distinctive of a kind of koothu as far as I'm aware.)

I actually already mentioned koothu once before in this post when I was talking about Koodiyattam in the very beginning. So lets go back to it.

Koothu is a folk theatre art that originated in early Tamizh country(Tamizhakam), and broadly speaking, its of two types, Terrukuttu, and Kattaikkuttu. It reached its peak in the golden age of Tamizh culture, the Sangam era and it mainly depicts scene from the epics. Currently types of Koothu are practiced in modern day Tamil Nadu and Kerala(Kerala was once part of ancient Tamizhakam).

Below is a link that will give you more info and an image of the costume with makeup similar to 6.

And this one is a link to a particular kind of koothu in Kerala known as Chakyar Koothu cos all the white on the make of prototype version 8 reminded me of it. (Also Chakyar Koothu is a form of social satire and criticism, it was basically ancient Stand-up comedy and the Chakyar is supposed to be really witty, which fits Spiderman to a T I gotta say.)

Again I'm not gonna go into further details and nuances of the design as this is a prototype design, maybe some other time. But I have to say that this colour palette does make Pavitr a lot more spideresque or evoke a more primal spider energy cos how it connects the viewer to jungle like and more animalistic environments more than the other designs.

And that's it for the mask and the prototypes everybody! Yay!

Holy shit that was long!

I'm gonna stop here for now cos this is already way too much. Can't believe I thought I'd be able to look through the entirety of Pavitr's design in one post. What was I on?

Seriously what kind of drug?

Anyway I'll be making a part 2 for this, looking through Pavitr's clothes and and movements and all. I say Part 2 but considering what happened with the mask I'm pretty sure it might go up to Part 3 or 4. Here's to hoping I learn some moderation by then lol.

(All the images are from google images and I have taken and have credit for exactly none of them. The verbiage is mine completely though.)

[nspwriteups]

Kannalane Chapter 1: We met again

Sooryanarayanan couldn't believe time could fly so fast. His eldest daughter Nandini was now a young woman of 16 years. She helped in the temple by making prasad, weaving garlands, arranging Pooja thaalis in addition to taking care of her younger siblings. His second born was also a daughter named Kaveri was quite different from her sister with her haughtiness as if she was a princess in her previous life. The youngest was a boy, Ananda who admired both his Akkas and possessed a very generous and kind heart with a little mischief once in a while. His wife died of fever when Ananda was a year old and from then on, Nandini had donned the role of mother-figure for the her young brother and sister and also acted as a supportive pillar for her father. 

Nandini also practised Bharatanatyam in the riverside mandap along with other girls. She was passionate in learning dance. Much like Kaveri who like boat rides and discussing politics with anyone she can get her hands on and Ananda who liked to read and write poetry. "Nandini is a very fast learner" her dance teacher would remark "It's as if she had already learned the art in her last life" .

Their life was mixed with happiness and sorrows. It was difficult to make ends meet for a family of four but they managed very well. Nandini's sole relief was her best friend Vishaka who entertained her with jokes and stories. Vishaka was the daughter of the local blacksmith who forged weapons for the royal army. She was also her neighbour and grew up with Nandini as her childhood friend. She was probably the only girl in the neighborhood with such a silvery tongue. 

" Oho Vishaka! If you keep talking like this without taking a break, Suseel is going to get bored of his life" Nandini taunted her, poking fun at Vishaka's betrothed Suseel who came to Thanjai with his family from Nagaipattanam to join the royal army as soldier. 

"No, you are wrong Nandini. He is delighted to hear me talk. He's such a patient listener" Vishaka said dreamily, already thinking of her beloved. 

I wish I also knew what it felt like to be in love - Nandini wondered silently.

That evening Nandini slowly made her way to the huge Banyan tree near the riverside. It was a place she often retired to whenever she wanted some quietness and time to daydream. Mostly whenever Vishaka goes off to meet Suseel, Nandini would come here and rest against the tree trunk and goes home after Vishaka comes back. Today was no different. She slowly walked to her abode of peace, hands playing with her long braid which Vishaka helped to decorate with Champaka flowers. When she reached her destination, she stopped abruptly. Because there was an intruder in her abode of peace. She has never seen him there before. He rested his head against the tree trunk with eyes closed, as if taking a nap. He wore a black vest and white dhoti. His long hair almost reached his shoulders and partially covered his face. Nandini stepped forward to see his face clearly, her feet rustling the dead leaves underneath. The seemingly sleeping person snapped his eyes open, hands gripping the sword laying by his side for a moment in alert before relaxing on seeing a bewildered young woman in front of him. But for Nandini, her curiosity was replaced with panic on seeing the sword in the youth's hand. She quickly scanned the man's face, his confused look and another glance at the shining, unsheated sword by his side and turned around to run. She heard his voice calling out to stop and listen but she continued to run.

The next evening Nandini found herself back near the Banyan tree. She waited a few minutes to see if the stranger from the other day would make an appearance again but not seeing anyone for some time, she let out a relieved sigh and sat down. It seems the stranger must have abandoned the place after their very embarrassing meeting. She started daydreaming, occassionally moving her hand up to see if her hairdo was still in place. This time Vishaka  styled her hair in a bun with some Champaka flowers again. Vishaka seemed to find joy in being Nandini's hairdresser. She was thinking of planting some Champaka in her small garden when she heard a voice. 

" It's you" she slowly turned her head to see the youth from yesterday standing in front of her with a friendly smile. There was no sword with him today but she saw a small dagger tucked into the waistband of his dhoti. Was he a spy? She quickly got up and started walking away.

"Please stop" the youth said, extending his hand in a gesture to stop "I understand you have been coming here far longer than me. If you wish to we can share this space. You can sit under the tree and I'll sit on the rock here, since we both enjoy the tranquility this place offers" 

 She felt tempted to take up the offer. But what if someone saw them and misunderstood the situation? What if Vishaka comes along and starts teasing her mercilessly and what if Kaveri hears this and tells Appa? All these fears made her shake her head and walk faster. "Wait" the youth called out again. Oh my Krishna! This boy is so persistent! She thought. "Atleast tell me your name" she heard him say before she reached the main road and almost felt and for not giving him an answer.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

" What? You met him twice and didn't even stayed to have a friendly chat?" Vishaka was appalled. 

"I'm not like you, Vishaka. I don't have the skill of being friends with everyone easily" Nandini said, a bit annoyed her Uyir Sakhi is not taking her side." And the first time I saw him,he had a big sword with him. It was intimidating " . The two girls were inthe Krishna temple, making garlands for the Sandhya Pooja which was about to start in a few minutes.

"Describe him. I'll ask Suseel if he knows anyone of that description " 

Nandini thought " He looked as if he was our age. Maybe a year or two older? Tall, with long wavy hair that almost reaches his shoulders. He looked quite strong and intimidating but his face also had a radiance. His eyes were quite expressive. I also think he has a calm and friendly demeanor as he was comfortable to share his space with me. And don't forgot the sword and the dagger. He also dressed quite nicely, now that I think about it. Maybe he belongs to an aristocratic family?" 

She broke her line of thought when she saw Vishaka looking at her, amused and trying to hide her laughter. "What is it?" 

" It seems you noticed quite a lot before you decided to run away" Vishaka replied while giggling.

Nandini felt her cheeks heat up "Vishaka!" 

" Well I am glad you have someone to admire just like how I admire my Suseel" Vishaka continued.

" I am not admiring anyone. And I'm not going there again. I'll find another abode of peace" Nandini said stubbornly. 

Just then, Sooryanarayanan approached the girls. " Kanne, The Sandhya Pooja is about to begin. I am going to do the aarti. Would you distribute the prasad?" Nandini nodded.

After the aarti, Nandini started handing over the prasad to the devotees. She loved helping her father in the temple. Being near her Krishna gave her strength and peace of mind. 

"Hello, stranger. We meet again" She looked up to find her mysterious youth she saw just that evening for the second time, gazing at her with the same friendly smile. " We must be in a time loop Devi, otherwise what are the chances I run into you the same day I decide to come for the Pooja here for the first time?" He said

This time he was wearing a gold coloured vest with a white silk dhoti and angavastram. Nandini knew she was right in her suspicions. This person oozed royalty. 

"I am still waiting for your name" The youth continued his narration

"Why?" Nandini asked

"So I can have a beautiful name to associate with this beautiful face" pat came the answer with a smirk.

What audacity! 

He must have sensed the reason behind the glare she was sending him now. He politely accepted the prasad and said " You don't have to answer if you don't want to Devi. For now I'll call you Chempaka since you were wearing those beautiful Chempaka flowers everytime we met" the smirk was back on his face. 

He was the last person on the line and as he moved to walk away from her, Nandini asked " But you haven't told me your name either " 

The youth turned around, his smile turning into a big grin "Apologies for not introducing myself earlier,Chempaka. I am Aditha" 

To be continued...

A/N: What do you want Aditha's identity to be? A prince or the son of an aristocrat? Let me know in the comments

@ramcharanobsessed @dumdaradumdaradum @vibishalakshman @thatacademic @hollogramhallucination @kovaipaavai@rang-lo . @willkatfanfromasia @thelekhikawrites @thegleamingmoon @deafeningflowercat @yehsahihai @whippersnappersbookworm @itsfookingloosah @gemsmusings @chiyaanvikram @elvenladysakura . @matka-kulfi. @madatdisney @bumblebeeskywalker @vahnithedreamer @nkarti @dosai-maavu @utterlynotperfect @winter-birds @happy-bookworm @tumbledout @anabanana4115 @freeunknownwasteland @bhataktiatmacore @rapunzels-stuff @celestesinsight @mairablue@rationalelderberry @existenceiswhateven @arachneofthoughts @spider5884fan11 @nirmohi-premika

[queer-red-panda]

The Talking Walls

PROLOGUE

Throughout her days of blissful ignorance, of childlike innocence, Anushka was happy. She didn't know that her father was killing his subjects off for his own pleasures, she remained oblivious to his 'human hunting', where slave children were imprisoned for weeks, then left out into the forest like animals to be hunted and killed.

During this period of ignorance, the pampered princess made a friend. And this friend was unlike the ones her mother asked for from the locals. This friend wasn't the gardener's daughter, or one of the courtesan's sons.

This friend was Amrita Joshi. A friend for her eyes alone.

It had started with disembodied giggles here and there, with a curtain fluttering on a windless night.

Anushka was, as usual walking through the corridors of the mahal, looking for her oldest sister, Jamini, when she saw something out of the corner of her eye. A white ghagra just slipping out of view down the corridor towards the Chandni Ghar, otherwise known as the house of pinwheel jasmines. A gift from her father to his wife, her mother.

Intrigued, she followed the sounds of a pair of payals or belled anklets through the corridors till she saw her.

A girl with a netted veil over her face which obscured her features, a white ghagra choli embroidered with intricate designs in gold thread.

"Who are you?" Anushka asked. There is no way this girl was one of the servants' children, because they always donned the simple white dhoti kurtas or sarees of the peasantry. No embroidery, no design.

But this looked like the expensive works of a weaver from the east...

The girl looked no older than Anushka herself, 11 years old, and her voice was no different. "My name's Amrita Joshi," said the girl. "You can...see me?"

"Of course," scoffed Anushka. "Have you been the one giggling around the palace at odd hours?"

Amrita nodded, shifting the veil from her face. Her face was strikingly beautiful, with big eyes as brown as freshly turned earth, and hair as black as the obsidian which donned her father's crown and throne.

"I'm bored," admitted Anushka. "I could use some company."

"But I am...a ghost," said Amrita, confused.

"And? You're in my mother's rooms, you're in my father's palace, and you are in my presence. You are 11 years of age, aren't you?" the princess asked, scoffing a little.

"I think I am," replied the ghost, leaning against a beautifully carved pillar, her veil fluttering in the slight breeze which danced through the corridors.

"Then play with me," said Anushka. "Don't act like you don't need a friend, too."

Amrita nodded. This mortal girl did have a fair point, indeed.

"Let's go."

and so there it begins...

---

tags: @justsomesapphicbimbo, @desi-girll, @bidisha2812

[tasavvur-e-jaana]

Jhumka gira re

//

The main street running through the bazaar was crowded with people, the enlightened lanterns in each shop giving a rustic, festive look to the arena. The aroma of hot jalebis, sweets, and other savoury dishes dispersed with the dhup (incense) scent of various flowers which the shopkeepers lit to keep the mosquitoes and other insects away. The cacophony of the mingled sounds did not appear as bothersome to the two people swimming through the ocean of men, women, and children alike. 

Bheem was walking at a leisurely pace, unlikely for him, mostly because he was almost stopping at each halwai’s shop to take in the delicious aroma of the frying oils and mouthwatering delicacies. His legs halted at one such foodstall where the man was frying fresh jalebies, catering to a small crowd which had accumulated at the shop. Bheem saw the halwai - he was wearing a typical white dhoti with a vest and a gamcha on his shoulders which he was using every 10 seconds to wipe off the sweat from being near the big-ass, hot kadhai as he was pouring the batter and frying the jalebis in perfect little concentric circles. The curly haired man could just stand there and watch the process for hours. 

He donned a thick moustache, with furry brows which were concentrated on the action as he was humming an old song while working. Much to Bheem’s delight, he was healthy, the belly trying to defy the confines of the vest. Not to be offensive, but Bheem thought that the best of the halwais have to be on the healthier side, because then it meant that they really loved to eat and feed people. They truly would be passionate about it. 

“Kya mol hai jalebi ka?” (What price is the jalebi?) He asked. 

“Teen aana ser!” (Three aanas for 1.250 kg.) The guy answered. 

“Hmm…Bhabhi tum-” (Sister-in-law would you…) The older man turned to find his companion missing. His initial reaction was to panic, of course. Before he could have a tiny heart attack, fortunately he spotted his companion at a shop two shops away, standing far behind, at a shop of jewellry. 

The man heaved a sigh of relief as he skipped back, telling the halwai that he will be back. 

Seetha was staring, stiff as a statue at a pair of jhumkas hanging by the side. They were beautiful, oxidised silver maybe, with typical dome-like shape with intricately woven metal design and small ghunghroos in the periphery of the hemispherical structure. They shone just the right amount when the light of the lanter fell on them, making them look sparkly. 

She did not realise she had screeched to a halt dreaming about how they would look on her, until a hand on her elbow shook her out of the reverie. “Ohh! Bheem! Maaf karna mujhe main-” (Oh, I apologise I-)

“Kya hua? Tum achanak aise ruk gayi.” (What happened? You just stopped here?) Bheem looked at her, his worry morphing into concern as he caught glimpse of tears at the corner of her eyes. “Bhabhi, sab theek?” (Bhabhi, sab thik?) he asked gently. 

Seetha shook her head, conjuring up an instant smile. “Han bilkul! Chalo! Tumhe mila kuchh khane ke liye? Mili koi jagah jahan ki khusboo mein woh kashish ho?” (Yes, of course! Come on! Did you find something suiting your tastes? Did you finally find the shop where the aroma was intoxicating as you desired?) She teased, but the grin did not reach her eyes. 

Bheem thought for a moment how to approach her, having seen her line of sight where she had been viewing, still as a statue, with desire in her dark brown orbs. Maybe she wanted to buy something for herself? But he had never seen her wearing something fancy, mostly bare minimum with the most bland shades and simple attire. 

He stepped forward and took the same pair which Seetha had been eyeing in his hands, not taking it off the stand. “Kitna khubsoorat hai na ye jhumka?” (How beautiful is this earring, isn’t it?)

“Han! J    enny par khoob jachega. Uske liye le rahe ho?” (Yes! It will look magnificient on Jenny. You are thinking of buying for her, right?)

Ughh! She was more stubborn than his anna. However, the gond man was not the one to back off, and neither he was the one to mince his words. They were close enough now, after months of friendship and working in close quarters. “Main tumhare liye keh raha hoon!” (I was asking for you!) his voice took a slightly stern note. 

To his irritation, Seetha only laughed. “Tumne kabhi pehle mujhe iss tarah ke gehne pehne hue dekha hai?” (You’re being silly. Have you ever seen me in such fancy stuff before? This is too much.)

“Iska matlab yeh thode hi hai ke tum kabhi pehno hi nahi?” (That doesn’t mean you cannot wear it ever.)

“Bheem! Rehne do. Tum agar lena chaho, toh Jenny ke liye le sakte ho, warna chalo aage. Waqt zaya nahi karte fizool baaton aur fizool kharchi mein.” (Bheem! Leave it. If you want to buy it for Jenny, then please do. Or else let us not spend time on unimportant things and waste money.)

“Seetha! Uff! Tum-” (Seetha! Uff! You-)

“Kya?” (What?) she raised her voice a bit as well. “Main kya? Kuchh ghalat kaha maine?” (Me what? Tell me how am I in the wrong here.) She regretted the anger instantly, which deflated like a pack of cards, “Main us tarah ki ladki nahi hoon…” (I am not a girl who…)

But bheem was really irked now. “KIS TARAH KI LADKI NAHI HO? Jo apne liye koi bhi wo cheez na kharide jo use pasand hai? Jo kabhi apne kiye ek pal bhi na soche? Jo-” The man clenched his jaw shut because the next sentence he was going to say would have been extremely inappropriate. 

(A GIRL WHO WHAT? The one who does not buy a pretty thing forherself once in a while? The one who does not think about her happiness? The one-)

“Jo kya? Batao Bheem! Jo kya?” (The one who what? Finish the sentence Bheem!)

“Nahi.” (No.)

“Thik hai, main kehti hoon jo tumhare mann mein tha.” her tone went eerily calm. “Jo kisi ki mangetar ko kar bhi vidhva ke jaise jee rahi ho. Yahi kehna chahte the na?” 

(Fine. Let me finish it for you. The one who has a living, breathing fiance but still chooses to dress like a widow. This is what you wanted to say, didn’t you?)

“NAHI!” (NO!) He denied outright. Seetha glared at him. “Umm- bilkul un shabdon mein nahi.” He added sheepishly. “Lekin main yeh zaroor kahunga, ke iss tarah apni har ek hasrat ka gala ghotne ki zaroorat nahi hai.”

(Umm- not in those exact words. But I will say this, that don’t squish your desires like a bug in the night. There is no need.)

Seetha smiled at her companion. It was a short-lived, tiny smile. “Bheem, sach kahun?” He nodded his head. “Ab aadat si ho gai hai. Meri sari sakartmakta, mera vishwas, mera dridh nishchay, mera vishwas ke hum jeetenge, mera junoon, sab Ram ko sambhalne mein vyay ho gaya hai. Uske jaane ke baad bhi usi ke liye jiya. Uske na hone ka ehsaas jo pal pal mujhe khaaye jaa raha tha- Bheem! Tumne uske Dilli se likhe gaye khat nahi padhe, jab wo wahan bilkul akela tha. Main…” She brushed away a tear. “Main tumhari bohot bohot shukraguzaar hoon ke tum uski zindagi mein aaye.” 

(Bheem, may I be honest? It has become a habit now. All my positivity, my optimism, my perseverance, and my belief that we will win- all has been spent up on Ram. Even after he left, it felt like I was only living for him. This absence chipped away at me minute by minute- Bheem! You have not read the letters he sent from Dilli which he sent when he was utterly and completely alone. I… I am so very grateful to you that you found him and came in his life when you did.)

This time, her smile was genuine, grateful. Although Bheem was glad, the gratefulness did not settle well with him. Seetha should not be thanking him! They were in the middle of the bazaar and even though Bheem wanted to know more, and knock sense into his friend- very literally, this was not the right time and place. All the curly haired man knew was he was buying Seetha the pair. And one for Jenny too, he already had his heart set on the one next to it. 

Just as he turned to ask the shopkeeper how much they cost, there was another young man, his hands clasped with a young woman, radiating joy who asked to see that particular pair. “Ji woh…” (Umm those-) Bheem started politely, with Seetha behind him, “Woh darasal main khareed raha hoon. Aap koi aur kyun nahi le lete?” (Actually I am buying those. Why don’t you look for another pair?) 

The guy seemed disappointed. “Lekin Shobha, meri mangetar ko ye sab se zyada pasand hain.” he tried to argue. (But Shobha, my fiancee, she has her heart set on them of all!)

“Bheem!” A hand landed on his arm. “Theek hai. Shayad mere nasib mein nahi hain ye jhumke. Bhaisahab aap hi le lijiye.” (It’s okay. They are not for me anyway. Please you buy them for your fiancee.) She glanced at the couple, giddy in each others presence, and she could sense the love radiating off them in waves. A cloud of sorrow shrouded her once more and her face fell in defeat. It all happened in an instance and Bheem, in this moment, only wanted to run back to the village and punch Ram in the face. A couple of times at least. 

 “Dekhiye main yeh apni bhabhi ke liye khareed raha hoon, meri iltija hai aapse ke aap koi aur dekh lein.” (Look! I am buying this for my sister-in-law. I really beg you to reconsider.) The man looked at his fiance once who gestured it was okay. He shrugged, “Thik hai!” (Fine.)

“Aapka bohot bohot shukriya!” (Thank you! Thank you so much!)

“Bheem! Kya kar rahe ho?” (What are you doing, Bheem?)

“Main khareed raha hoon yeh tumhare liye.” (I am buying them for you.)

“Iski koi zarurat nahi.” (No.)

“Hai! Tum meri bhabhi ho, kya ye rishta koi maayne nahi rakhta?” (YES! You are like a sister to me! Does that no mean anything to you?) The puppy eyes were at full attack. 

“Maine tumse kya kaha tha?” (What did I say to you about this?) Seetha stood there, crossing her hands. 

“Meri ye harketein sirf Ram aur Jenny par kaam karti hain!” (That the puppy eyes and emotional blackmail works only on Ram and Jenny.) He pouted. Seetha smiled at his adorable nature. “Lekin main sahi mein tumhe tohfa dena chahta hoon. Main ek Jenny ke liye bhi le raha hoon.” (But I really do want to gift you these. I am buying one for Jenny too!)

“Bohot khushnaseeb hai woh ladki!” (That girl is the luckiest!)

“Kya Ram kabhi tumhare liye-” (What? Ram never- for you?) Seetha shook her head. “Woh kehta hai tumhe jo chahiye tum khud laa sakti ho. Meri kya zaroorat hai?” (Well, he says I can buy whatever I need or want for myself. There is not need for him to be there.)

“Ughh!! Nihaayati bewakoof hain wo! Ghar pohonch kar unki khabar leta hoon main.” (He really is the dumbest person! I will knock some sense into him when we get home.)

Seetha chuckled out loud. It was the sweetest sound. “Main nahi rokungi tumhe!” (I would not stop you.) She jested. 

“Thik hai. Toh tay raha. Hum ghar jaa kar khabar le rahe hain unki.” (Good. Deal. We go home and kick his idiotic ass.)

He turned to the shopkeeper who was busy with other customers. “Bhaisahab, ye jhumke kitne ke diye?” (Mister, how much do these earrings cost?)

“Dedh rupiya pura.” (One and a half rupee.)

“KYA? Itna zyadam dam?” (WHAT? This is too pricey!) Seetha gawked from behind, nonplussed. “Bheem yeh toh bohot mehenge hain. Rehne do, chalo.” (Leave it, Bheem. They are too expensive.)

“Lekin behenji aap karigari to dekhiye. Itni baariq aur safaimand aapko kahin iss mol mein mile toh main dukaan band kar dunga.” (But madam, look at the ornate design. If you find such intricate and polished work elsewhere in these parts, in these prices, I will close my shop.)

Bheem too was stumped. Not only because of the price, but because he wasn’t sure he had that amount on him. They already had done the supply shopping, the heavy bags at the owner’s place which they were going to carry after taking a walk in the bazaar while returning. He quickly took out the remaining amount and counted. It was exactly one and a half rupees left. He would not be able to buy anything for Jenny, or get the jalebis if he got the earrings. 

Seetha peaked into his palm, taking out her own purse. There was only 5 annas left. “Bheem. Mere liye mat lo. Sirf Jenny ke liye hi lete hain.” (Bheem. Let’s just buy something for Jenny.) 

“Nahi! Main pichle mahine hi laya tha uske liye kuchh cheezein.” (No. I bought her some jewllery only last month.) He had made up his mind. The gond man offered the rupee and a half to the shopkeeper. “Ji de dijiye.” (Please, we’ll take it.) Seetha caught his hand. “Bheem!” 

He looked at her with determined gaze in the honey dipped eyes. “Agar tumhare liye zara se bhi pyaar hai mere liye toh aaj nahi rokogi tum mujhe.” (If you love me even a little bit, you will not stop me now.) It did not sound like blackmail. It rang like an ultimatum in the air, hanging between the two - the shopkeeper all the while watching this charade and getting frustrated. 

“Lena hai ya nahi?” (Are you buying them or not?) He finally asked. 

“Bilkul.” (Of course.) Bheem handed him the money. He took the paper wrapped packet and started walking with Seetha in tow. 

“Tumne mol bhaav bhi nahi kiya! Buddhu ho tum!” (You didn’t even bargain! You fool!)

“Tumhari khushi ka woh kya mol lega bhabhi. Dedh rupiya hi toh tha! Magar han, agar mol lagaata toh shayad yeh lazeez jalebiyan kha paata.” (Bhabhi, no one can put a price on your happiness. It was only a rupee and a half. But yes, if I had bargained, we could have left some money for the delicious jalebis.) They had reached the jalebi stall again, the halwai still making the delicacy. 

“Koi baat nahi mere pyare Bheemudu!” (No worries, my Bheemudu!) She linked his hand with her as she dragged him toward the food. “Mere paas abhi bhi 5 aane hain.” (I still have 5 annas left.) The smile Bheem gave her could have blinded a million suns. 

“Are waah!” (YAY!) He perked up immediately. “Itne mein to pet bhar kar dher saari jalebi kha sakte hain hum! Aur le bhi jaayenge sab ke liye…” (This is enough to buy so many jalebis for all of us!)

//

@ronaldofandom

[fangirlshrewt97]

By The Light Of The Diyas

Relationships: Ram and Sita, Bheem and Sita, Ram/Bheem

Rating: General

Warnings: None Apply

@celebrrration​ Entry - Day and Prompt: Day 5 - Lights/Diyas

AO3 Link

///

"Here you go Mama!" Sita said as she placed a heavy looking pot down. She took the cup of water Bheem offered her with a grateful smile.

Ram came over and knelt before the pot, peering inside before looking approvingly up at Sita. "There is a lot this year!" Sita snorted. "Obviously. It's your first Diwali at home in five years." Ram scratched his ear, looking sheepish. "I suppose."

“Oh and here!” Sita held out a closed fist, dropping a small metallic pot the size of a large grape into Ram’s hands. The man scowled at the pot while Sita laughed merrily. “In case you’d forgotten how.”

Ram glared at Sita. Sita gulped the last of the water, giving the cup to Bheem before bidding her goodbyes. "Savitri Atha is expecting me to help her with the rangoli for the temple! See you both at dinner! Be done by then!"

Bheem saw her out before walking over to Ram, looking over his shoulder. "What's that Bangaram?" Ram stood up, placing the pot on his hip. "Clay. Since Diwali is in five days, I asked Sita to bring some clay for me.

We, uh, have a tradition of preparing clay diyas for the house and temple. Each household usually prepares one per person in the house. My mother always made me and Chinna sit and do the diyas with her. She used to do 108 diyas, as a prayer for the well-being of all the villagers and my father.”

”That’s a beautiful tradition Ram.” Bheem said as he lightly touched Ram’s forearm.

Ram shrugged. “Haven’t really made them since I was a kid. I hope I remember.”

Ram held up the metal pot, holding the rim between his thumb and index.

“What’s the pot for?”

Ram sighed heavily. “In case I can’t get the shape right. When I was very young, it was difficult to get the indent in the clay at the right shape and dent, so you could use the pot to impress the shape onto the clay.”

“Clever.” Bheem observed.

Ram hummed.

“Amma, I don’t need the pot this year, I know how to do it by hand.” Ram said confidently.

Sarojini smiled at him, ruffling his hair. “Big boy aren’t you, Rama. Let’s see how you can make your diyas. In the meantime, I think you should give the pot to Chinna so he can learn too!”

Ram smiled widely and called Chinna over.

“Ram?”

Ram blinked as he returned to the present. Bheem was looking at him with concern.

“Where did you go just now?”

Ram shook his head. “Nothing, just a memory.”

Bheem still had worry in his gaze. Ram tried to smile reassuringly at him, even as the memory still flashed beneath his eyelids. “Come on Bheema, what do you say we make some diyas?”

///

Ram groaned as he mushed his latest attempt back into a ball of clay. "Bangaram, you’re being too much of a perfectionist!," Bheem laughed. "You said mine were looking good."

Ram grimaced at the clay mess in this hand. "Yours are looking good! Mine look worse than the ones I did when I was a literal child..." "Well…maybe we can bring out the pot…." Bheem ventured in a cajoling tone.

Ram growled as he ducked his head, taking his frustration on the poor lump of clay. His hands were fully muddy by this point, as was the old dhoti he had changed into.

They had been making diyas for an hour by now.

Bheem had been making diyas. He had already managed to make an impressive 20 of them. Ram had managed five he thought looked barely better than decent.

When he looked up, Bheem was biting his lip, clearly trying not to laugh.

Ram scowled harder and flicked some of the dirty water from the bucket between them at him.

Bheem lost his battle and started to laugh, throwing his head back as he set his latest diyas on the ground beside the others.

“How is this harder now than when I was a kid?”

Bheem laughed. "Are you telling me the great Alluri Ramaraju has finally met his defeat at the hands of some clay?" Ram’s shoulders drooped as he tossed the ball of clay in the air. “Yes.”

Bheem guffawed again before he stood up, going into Ram’s house before coming back with the small pot Sita had given him.

Ram stuck out his lower lip at the sight of it. Bheem sighed fondly and pressed it gently against Ram’s cheek. “Come on, don’t pout. Just use the pot.”

“How come you are so good at this?” Ram grumbled.

Now it was Bheem’s turn to look sheepish. “We also make diyas in the village. A little differently, but the basic concept is the same.”

Ram pressed the back of his wrist against his forehead before inhaling, puffing his chest up with renewed determination. He took the pot from Bheem and kept it to the side.

He laid the ball of clay on the ground, pressing down on it with a wooden slab so it was half flattened. Then he took the pot and pressed it into the clay till the well was properly circular and round. He twisted the pot a couple times to smooth out any bumps. Finally, he pinched the rim of the clay vessel to create the diya spout where they could keep the wick. He wet the tip of his finger with some water and ran it over the outside of the pot to make it flat, and then placed it on the ground to make sure it was balanced symmetrically.

It was perfect.

He set it on the ground next to his other diyas. He looked up at Bheem who was grinning at him.

Sniffing, Ram took another lump of clay, rolling it into a ball. “Well, are you going to keep staring? We only have some 30 of these made between the two of us, and we need to have 150 before dinner.”

“150? You said your mother only made 108!” Bheem protested mildly.

“108 are for the temple. We need some to light up our home too no?” Ram said, before flushing at calling his house both of theirs.

Bheem smiled knowingly at Ram and grabbed some clay. He set about making his next diya, pressing his finger into the ball of clay until he was able to dig out a round space, pinching the clay to create the spout. He wet the rim and ran a finger over it till it was flat.

“So what happens once we finish the diyas?” Bheem asked.

“We leave it out to dry overnight. Tomorrow morning, we turn them upside down and let the bottom dry properly. Then in the afternoon we prepare the wicks for all of them.”

“On the evening before Diwali, Sita said she will come and help with putting kumkum and sandal for all the diyas before we take them to the temple. And then on Diwali night, we light the candles.”

“Ahh, I can’t wait. I am sure the village will look gorgeous with all those diyas.” Bheem said wistfully.

Ram nodded. “No lamp or electricity created by the Westerners will ever match the beauty of a simple clay diya for me.”

Bheem knocked their shoulders together, grinning as he completed his next diya.

“What about at your village Bheema? Do your diyas also look like this?” Ram asked, curious.

“Kind of. The simple ones to. But we also make some with other shapes. And a few with more intricate patterns.” Bheem explained.

“Shapes? What kind?” Ram asked, brows furrowed.

“Hmm. I’ll show you.” Bheem hummed as he look around, eyes lighting up when he found what he wanted. He got up and walked over to a nearby beetle leaf plant, plucking two leaves and bringing them over.

He took the wooden board from Ram, pressing a ball of clay flat.He pressed the leaf into the mud with the board. Then he took a small knife he cut out the clay around the leaf. When he removed the leaf,an impression of it was stuck on the clay. Bheem then peeled off the clay and curved it with his hand, digging the middle groove a little more clearly with the knife.

“Like this Bangaram. And then we can lay a wick in the middle and light it. Otherwise we can also use it as a base for smaller diyas.”

Ram held out his hand, and when Bheem obligingly passed his new creation, traced it in wonder.

“Ram? What’s wrong?” Bheem asked suddenly, making Ram blink. When his vision went blurry for a second, he realized tears had gathered at the edge of his eyes. He tried to laugh it off.

“No, don’t worry. I just...,” Ram looked down at the leaf diya. “Chinna would have really loved you Bheema. Amma too. So much.”

Bheem made a wounded noise and threw an arm over Ram’s shoulders, nuzzling into his temple. “I wish I could have met them too.”

Ram curled his hand protectively around the diya as his other sought out Bheem’s to entwine and squeeze.

///

They had managed to finish all their diyas before dinner, and spent some time taking turns to massage each others hands and forearms which ached from the unusual strain.

The next few days were busy with the whole village gearing up to celebrate Diwali grandly this year, in honour of their own Ram coming back from his time away.

The pair got so many sweets and food that even Bheem’s appetite gave up after a while. They resorted to giving all the excess sweets to the kids that would stop by.

On the evening of Diwali, as Bheem had predicted, the village was aglow with the light of diyas, looking ethereal.

Ram took all the diyas they had prepared for the temples in a large tray while Bheem carried the pitcher of oil and Sita brought the wicks. Together, all three of them carved out a small corner of the temple to themselves. Ram set out the diyas, while Bheem poured the oil and placed the wicks. Sita lit the diyas.

Once complete, the trio made their way to the main shrine where Babai was waiting for them, and they completed their prayers together.

They all had dinner at Babai’s house, eating until they were ready to burst. Ram and Bheem excused themselves after a while, wishing to go for their customary evening walk. They settled on the banks of the river after completing a round around the village.

Ram had one leg bent up and against his chest, resting his chin on his knee as Bheem crossed both of his under himself. Both men enjoyed the companionable silence between them as crickets chirped to the rhythm of Mother Godavari’s tides.

“What are you thinking Rama?” Bheem asked after a while.

Ram turned to look at Bheem, pressing his ear against his knee. “That this feels like Diwali. The first proper one I have had since I lost my family.”

Bheem smiled sadly at him. “You didn’t lose all of them Bangaram. And now you have gained so many.”

Ram grabbed his hand, and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to Bheem’s palm. “None of whom I am more thankful for than you.”

Bheem leaned forward to rest his forehead against Ram’s. “Me neither, Rama.”

///

The two men returned home eventually, going straight to bed. In a place of honor, in the center of the back wall of their house, a small shrine had been erected next to Ram’s small pooja set-up.

There, a single, leaf-shaped diya shone brightly, a tribute to a memory of those who still lingered on Earth through the remembrance of their loved ones.

///

Tagging (If I missed out on anyone in the taglist, please let me know!):  @rambheem-is-real​ @budugu​ @bromance-minus-the-b​ @junebugyeahhh @hissterical-nyaan​ @obsessedtoafault​ @hufhkbgg​ @yehsahihai​ @rorapostsbl​ @fadedscarlets​ @alikokinav​ @chaotic-moonlight​ @rambheemisgoated​ @rambheemlove​ @jaganmaya​ @burningsheepcrown​ @lovingperfectionwonderland​ @rosayounan​ @iam-siriuslysher-lokid​ @thewinchestergirl1208​ @dumdaradumdaradum​ @ronaldofandom​ @jjwolfesworld​ @jrntrtitties​ @kashpaymentsonly​ @jeonmahi1864​ @zackcrazyvalentine​ @stanleykubricks​ @tulodiscord​ @teddybat24​ @sally-for-sally​ @jadebomani​ @stuckyandlarrystuff​ @veteran-fanperson​ @ohfuckoffpls​  @carminavulcana​ @boochhaan​ @doodlesofthelastpage​ @filesbeorganized​ @meownique​ @ssabriel  

[senor-plume]

The Deity

the distortion of the mighty guitars float above my head like a black cloud sonic and happening dropping the feedback bouquets all around me

scattered shattered and plastered

with the dew dropping bottle to my left egging me on… I use this typewriter like a semi-automatic weapon pounding away and frightening the neighbors with its sheer volume and anger

I can feel their unease and discomfort

jumping out of the chair… I throw open the curtains… shoot up the windows parading drunkenly nude with a cut-rate cigar twirling in my fingers

my glassy eyes are in need of a broken mirror to catch a straight look at my wino ways

seven years bad luck? bring it on fucker

perhaps I am overconfident tonight… maybe I am feeling like a drunk deity with a beer can halo…(I’ve always gone for the cheap look) and in my holy dhoti I am quite pleased to be entertaining the troops that surround my apartment with the kind of dance moves that would make Jumping Beans jealous

exploding I head back to the keyboard to finish a new one off which I do with great zest and relish and I will send it out to the judgment of my peers in tomorrow’s mail

but for now I have God by my side and He is made of wood and mesh (I am certain He is a stereo speaker) and sings like a bird

Fa Fa Fa

I, on the other hand sing like a concrete block under water with Jimmy Hoffa attached by chain

but everything around me is running out of time including this bottle this hairline that book shelf and these clothes that I wear

my burnt popcorn cologne is attracting the flies so I use my filthy tongue to rid myself of the scent and soon I am smelling like my old self again

I press a rose in a book and call it a night

and as I lay down in bed I can faintly hear the applause and I know that I am on the right track

doing the right thing for the customers

succeeding and winning

with the booze in my veins I slip into sleep and let the neighbors clap along to the sounds of my snoring

I aim to entertain… even in unconsciousness

[houseofbreadpakoda]

The Coin Show

It was the summer of 1983, Meena had sneaked out of home at noon, pocketing 25 paise from Amma's potli. She planned to go to the annual coin show being held at the nearby open field. Meena had asked her friend Gowri to come along; said that they would roam till evening at the fair, observing old currencies and learn about their history, and that they would return before sunset, probably having a gola on their way back. But Gowri had to attend her maternal uncle's wedding in Trivandrum, leaving Meena no choice but to go by herself.

Meena lived in Karaikudi, which was located in Sivagangai, Tamil Nadu. Karaikudi, boasted of it's beautiful temples and architecture, but what she was attracted to the most, was the village lake. The show was being held on the other-side of the village, to which she had to take a boat over the Karaikudi village lake.

It was one in the afternoon by the time she had reached the fair. The entrance arc was lit by huge bulbs, and had silk drapes all around it's metal moulding. As she walked in she was overwhelmed by the amount of people at the fair. She was spellbound by the stalls around her. Some stalls had a collection of coins from the pre independence era of India, while some had a collection of currencies which were used when people initially opted out of barter system. Collectors of all ages had joined the show and were geeking out with like minded people. Some even traded coins with others who were willing to trade. Now neither did Meena have any knowledge about currencies to geek about nor did she have a collection to trade. But she wanted to absorb as much as she could into her 7 year old brain.

After roaming at the fair for one whole hour, Meena noticed a small bright tent at the corner. She was surprised as to how she missed it, as she had sprinted to every stall, taking in its sight so she could remember and hold onto it for as long as she could. Without delay, she ran towards the tent.

The tent was draped with fine satin cloth, dyed in violet and yellow. One had to push aside a number of curtains before reaching the core of the tent. The tent, though isolated, had a warm feeling to it. Inside the tent, she found an old man sitting. He was wiping his collection of coins with a slight cloth woven from silk, with narrow glasses propped at the tip of his nose. On seeing Meena, he stood up smiling and greeted her in. He was twice as tall as her, and plump. He wore a brown kurta and dhoti, with a mustard overcoat.

"Vango! My name is Devaraaya, and I collect mythical currencies." The old man said pushing up his glasses and putting aside the coin he was cleaning. Meena walked a few steps ahead, halting close to the table where Devaraaya's collection lay. This collection of coins were different from the others. They were never proven to be in existence. The only evidence was through folk tales that had spread from person to person. "What is your name little girl?" He asked her.

"Meena, Meena Konar." She replied.

"Oh, hello Meena. Do you collect any coins yourself?" Asked Devaraaya, although he knew, that all a kid her age would collect, were candy wrappers. "No. I do not yet, but I'd love to build a collection of my own." Said Meena looking at the old lad, "I'm interested in gaining any sort of knowledge that'll help me create a currency collection."

Both Devaraaya and Meena knew, that she wasn't indeed interested in owning an assortment of currencies. She just wanted to fit in, and feel as though she were a part of something, even if it was just for a while. He knew how it felt to be left out as a child, in a world with so many people, with different interests. He snapped out of his thoughts when Meena's high pitched voice hit his ears. "So, tell me about these coins." She said pointing towards a flat, bronze piece of metal.

"These are called kaal-azmi, which translates into the trial of time. If you look closely each coin has a particular number engraved on it. The longer you hold onto it the more it is worth." Said Devaraaya, patting her head.

"And what about these? these gold ones." Asked an intrigued Meena. "These coins are known by many names, but are mainly known as Birbal coins."

"Ooo, and what speciality do they posses?" "These coins have a stagnant value, but if they are stolen they will turn grey in colour. These grey coins aren't accepted in trade thereby catching the thief red handed." Replied the old guy, now sinking back into his chair.

For a moment Meena visualised her situation if the coins she had flicked from her Amma were like the Birbal coins, and immediately she didn't want to think about it anymore.

Meena spent the next few hours with Devaraaya, going through his coin collection, while he patiently showed her around and explained its history, clearing all her silly doubts. She was a naive little kid, and her sheer innocence and Inquisitiveness won him over. The sun had begun to set, and the sky was painted in colours of crimson fusing into a yellower base. Meena broke out of her trance and remembered that she had to go back home. Her mother would go in search of her, if she wouldn't return before sunset.

"I really need to get going," said Meena leaping off the table she sat on, "you'll be here next year too right? In the next coin show I mean."

"I will. Will you come again here? next year?" Asked Devaraaya "I will." Said Meena ironing her skirt with her palms. And just like that she did a small thank you gesture and sprinted out of the tent.

She hopped back onto the same boat she took to reach the fields, paid the oarsman seven paise and rested herself at the other end of the boat. It would take her another forty five minutes to reach home, she'd be home just before sunset, would tell her mother she was near the temple and would slip in the rest of the money she had left, into her mother's potli after she had dozed off. She'd think about the aftermath later, for now she wanted to enjoy the sunset as she was rowed back home.

"Anna, do you know about the kaal-azmi coins?" she asked a passenger riding on the same boat as hers. "Kaal-azmi? Never heard of those." A young man of about 24 years of age replied, pleasantly surprised by the little girls question. "Oh what a shame, you'd love to know about them." Said Meena, continuing to spread about her newfound knowledge, as the young chap listened, charmed by the little girls excitement.

.

.

Something I wrote many months ago for a competition. If the vocabulary sounds flaky that is why.

[ricesoupremacy]

4, 9, 14, 22, 37, 39

4. What do you wear when you have to dress nicely? dhoti soupremacy 🙏🙏 jk i have the same font of boring clothes. just jeans and a shirt or something. i like shirts. and i discovered i like silver jewellery so that's fun

9. What sounds or scents calm you down? sounds...bro ok look so i'm an old man right. i have this cd of classical indian music called dancing waters. i'll send a pic wait. i feel like i'm melting when i play the songs on those they're so beautifully calming it's like ascension 😭 it's been my favourite cd since i was born other sounds would probably include the sound of kids chattering at school. it's just a very familiar sound. but silence is the best calming sound hands down.

calming scents hmm. i have this one perfume sample i stole from some store in pondicherry like five years ago 💀 i still put it on when i study lol.

14. What are some places where you feel most at home? school, surprisingly. i would live at my school if i could. also art and photography museums, green public parks, those home decor stores (as a kid i would pretend i lived there lmao) and...taco bell. i love taco bell outlets.

22. Iced or hot drinks? hot drinks every season. i ask for drinks without ice if i go out cuz ice is ew. i drink hot chocolate in summer on the beach with zero hesitation i hate drinking cold stuff.

37. Do you mind if others are in the kitchen when you’re cooking or baking? nah i prefer to cook with someone. i mean technically i can't cook, but it's i'm making dosa or maggi or baking something, i'd like to do it with someone. it just feels very intimate ya know? whether it's my family or a friend.

39. What was the best part of your day today? welp today is a sunday and it kinda just started. but this one guy i think i like texted me so. that was nice.

[doesitmatterluv]

♤The Warrior and The King ♤

Athreya was in a dilemma. Should she accept and fulfill her promise or reject? How will the prince react? Well she can always get to higher position by her own hardwork instead of marrying the prince but rejection is not an option since she will made into an outcast. She had to play her cards carefully.

“No Your Highness, I cannot accept this proposal. While I agree it’s too early to make decisions such as marriage at Nandini’s age but I cannot marry my sister’s Lover. I hope you understand.” Rejection was not an easy Decision but it’s better to be an outcast than be someone who married the man her sister loves. And The prince is not even old enough to be called a Man.

“Alright. I understand why. But I have another proposition.” The king replied a small smile on his lips. Athreya frowned. She expected more. The king continued, “Be his second in command, his guide, his advisor. You are wise, strong and a brave warrior and A great commander, teach my son, be his teacher.” Seems he won’t give up, this was sure a weird proposition for her. But it was much better than the first option. She had no reason bot to accept. “ I have no reason not to accept. But Your Highness Nandini?”

“ Nandini will stay in the Thanjai kovil. Don’t worry about her, I heard what Kundhavai did I assure that will not happen again. That’s it for now, your position will be officially announced after Aditha returns.”

Two days in the palace was so different from the life at Kadambur. Nandini adjusted faster than Athreya. The Warrior was worried about what was to come at her. Her life had been filled with misfortune, Nandini was her safe place and she couldn’t bear to hurt her but she also knew that it was unlikely for Aditha and Nandini to be together. The palace was beautiful, at sunrise and sunset it looked like pure gold. The palace was airy and cool even during midday. Athreya was currently being forced into a saree, she was so used to wearing skirts and dhotis that saree felt weird. Her saree was a beautiful emerald green colour with silver border.

Soon horns were blown signaling the return of The Prince. A huge crowd was assembled near the entrance. Athreya and Nandini, who was wearing a light blue saree, stood a little further from the King and Queen. With the eyesight that made her a famous archer among the Chola army she saw a beautiful white horse, Nila. Aditha’s horse, Athreya was the one who got her into Kadambur palace where the Prince took a liking towards her, her name was Nila meaning the moon.

As The Prince got closer, the arathi was prepared. He got down from Nila and walked up the stairs, the Queen and Princess Kundhavai, who arrived to welcome her brother, took the arathi. The return of the Prince was announced as the people cheered. She dreamed to be in that position one day.

The royal family, the ministers followed by Athreya and Nandini. As far she observed Aditha’s eyes were on Nandini the whole time, she smiled this innocent love was so bittersweet, to know that one day they will be separated. Everyone settled to feast, it was a special occasion as it was The Prince’s first victory. One place remained empty byt everyone was staring at Nandini, confused why a temple girl joined them to feast. As one voiced this before Aditha could defend her The king stood up and called Athreya over. “Nandini is not a simple temple girl, she is the sister of Athreya who is going to be Aditha’s Advisor and teacher.”

Everyone sat in stunned silence. They acknowledge and accept the fact that she is a good warrior, great even but she was just a woman, How can a woman teach the next king of The Chola Empire. There is a reason why she wasn’t sent to war even if she is already 20. One spoke up, “ Your Highness she is just a woman! How can she-”

“How can I? Is that your question My Lord? Why don’t you test it yourself?” Athreya challenged not a random minister but Chinna pazhuvettaraiyar. A great warrior, a rather arrogant one. “How dare you? You no name orphan challenge me? Do you wish for death?” he fumed, he felt humiliated to be challenged by a woman. “If you want to be put in your place then I’ll give you that as I am a generous Lord.” He replied controlling his anger. He drew his sword, his expression that of a rabid animal. A guard offered Athreya a sword “I don’t need one” she refused. “Your arrogance shall be your downfall. How can you teach when you don’t even know that you can’t fight an armed enemy without a swrod”

Athreya smiled and took her stance. The male Struck his sword at her left shoulder which she dodged. The next strike was towards her heart, she leaned backwards to dodge, she made a movement with her right hand and a dagger shot out stabbing the male in the knee. Taking the moment of surprise to her advantage, she jumped, short axe in right hand and a curved dagger in her left. Her legs wrapped around his neck and made him fall. Before he could use his sword, she stabbed his hand causing his to let go of the sword and held the axe to his neck.

“This is why.”

Note: sorry for the late update, i was sick the whole week. Thanks for staying ~

-Mithra