Sorrowful Prayer

Damayanti watched the modaka grow golden as they bubbled in the oil. Bright, mid-morning sunshine glinted off of the clean and polished marble of the counter tops of the kitchen. She gazed out at the blooming peonies in the garden. The heavy peach-colored blossoms nodded in the breeze. The sizzle and spat of the oil drew her attention back to the pot.

“They will be done in a few minutes.” she murmured, as she picked up and studied her list; double-checking to make sure that she had all of the items that were needed for the puja. Candied spicy nuts and fruit for Agni, modaka, some mochi sweets, and choice fruits both local and foreign for her parents. She then arranged the fruits and sweets elegantly on the offering plates.

Keeping focus on the task at hand kept the pain away. It always managed to, whether it was her cooking chemistry in the kitchen or actual chemistry in the lab. She let out a silent sigh as she looked back towards the kitchen door. Beyond, all was basically quiet. Rupak and Mercedes were running an extended errand for her, and her sensei was out for a bit of the afternoon on business. Tomiko was probably sunning herself in a patch of sunlight. It was odd for the house to be so silent on a Wednesday, but she was glad for it.

“Today is Father’s day of the week,” she said out loud.

A face slowly manifested from the ceramic teapot on the stove. The gold filling in the cracks in it gave the face a twinkle. The crackle inherent in the initial glaze added character and a bit of age. The eyes were heavy-lidded and wise.

“Miss Damayanti, good morning!,” the ancient teapot greeted. It squinted at what she was cooking, it slightly shifted on it’s particular burner on the stove as the hot oil in the pot next to it spat again,“May I ask you a question?”

“Of course, anything,” she replied with a smile.

“What do you mean by ‘today is Father’s day of the week’?”

“All of the Deva have a day of the week that is auspicious for them,” Damayanti reached forward and turned on the burner that the teapot sat on. He took her stated answer in, mulling it over. He glanced up at her quizzically, subtly adjusting himself on the burner so he was more comfortable.

“Who is your father?”

“Lord Ganesha is my father. I am making these offerings for him and my mother of course. Wednesday is the day he pays close attention to prayers”

“Ah! So you are one of those children of the Gods,”

“Yes.”

The teapot squinted up at her, thinking while the water in him started to bubble,

“Is your mother his wife?”

“Yes.” Damayanti answered as she spooned the modaka out of the hot oil and put them on a rack to rest for a moment.

“So is she still around, back at home?” Damayanti paused at she retrieved the powdered sugar. A sad frown started to tug at the corner of her mouth. She swallowed the rising sadness.

“No, she is with my father, along with his other wife, her sister.” The teapot blinked, scrutinizing Damayanti’s demeanor for a moment.

“If I am being too inquisitive, you don’t have to answer.” he said softly.

“No, it’s alright,” she said softly, blinking back sudden up welling of tears, “I haven’t had really anyone to confide in lately. My mother is Riddhi, the Deva Goddess of Intellect.” The teapot whistled and she took it off of the burner, and set it on a trivet. The whistle died down to a seeming more human tone,

“If you are the child of two Gods, why are you not a Goddess?” he asked.

“Among the Deva, not every union of two Gods make another Deity. It depends on what the couple want. The parents that I knew directly were avatars, they wore human guises.”

“That’s interesting.” he stated, “Where are they now?” Damayanti drew in a shuddering sigh, her lips drawing into a tight line. She looked up at the pattern of the wood-grain in the ceiling for a second. Pain and echoes of despair swirled within her. “Ach!” the teapot exclaimed, letting a small stream of steam out of his spout, “I should stop, I am not trying to make you upset,”

“No, it’s okay,” she said with a wave of her hand, “It’s good to talk.” She walked over and pulled down three cups from the cupboard, added tea leaves and then an extra heaping of sugar to one. The teapot calmed himself; the steam now drifted lazily around him. Damayanti took a steadying breath,

“I don’t want the conversation to stop, As I said, you can ask me anything.”

“So do you have any other family?” Damayanti smiled as she dipped them in honey and then

rolled the modaka in ground cashews.

“Yes. I have two sisters, back home. Ishanti and Maya. They are not like me. My father enlightened me to my true nature a couple of years ago.” She washed off her hands and then sifted a light dusting of powdered sugar on to the cooling modaka.

“So you just decided to come to Nippon to train with Mr. Yoshida? Whoa!” he asked as Damayanti picked him up to pour hot water into the two waiting cups. She set these aside and then poured the third cup for herself.

“Sorry, that was abrupt of me,” she apologized. Once the cups were filled and steaming, she placed him gently back on the trivet.

“Mr. Yoshida is helping me train in certain skills, but for the most part, he is the only refuge I have right now.” The teapot raised an eyebrow, the ceramic and gold glistening in the sunlight streaming in through the windows. Damayanti sat down in a chair with a sigh. Unknowingly, she ran her hands along her belly. The teapot arched it’s eyebrow slightly higher, as he spied the subconscious movement.

“Damayanti, is it dangerous for you back home?” She reached for the cup of tea, blowing on it before she answered.

“Being what I am, what all of those like me are; we are always dealing with a level of danger. The danger that I was dealing with came too close to those whom I love. It hurt them.” She took a sip, and continued, “I had to get away from those who I love to save them. Mr. Yoshida offered to help.” she looked up to the teapot, “I will be forever grateful to him.” A sweet smile spread across her face, as she turned her gaze out at the zen garden. “He has taught me so much. He has been firm and so very kind.” she sighed a slight blush came to her cheeks, “I so want to help him, to get to know him better. He is such a mystery.” A small knowing smile graced the teapot’s features.

“I have had a new beginning and found a refuge here with Lord Tsukiyomi,” he stated, “After all, I was broken and remade. Maybe you can find a new beginning and further safety here. Make something new,” Damayanti’s eyes widened for a moment as she turned back to the kami that was the teapot, and then they softened.

Damayanti picked up the teapot and a soft cloth. With it, she gently wiped down the teapot to make sure that there was no oil on him. Then he was gently replaced on his burner. He noticed that her gaze was introspective. She then went around the kitchen and cleaned up. All the while the teapot looked at her with serene expectation. Once she confirmed that the kitchen was cleaned to a laboratory standard, she collected the offerings that she had made. She hefted the large tray and started to make her way towards the door. She stopped at the threshold and made eye contact with the small kami, a kindling of joy shone in her eyes, they shone bright gold in the sunlight.

“Maybe you are right,” she said with innocent wonder in her voice, she dipped her head in gratitude, “Thank you for talking with me today. I really appreciate it. You have given me something to think about.”

“Anytime Miss Damayanti, anytime.” the teapot said and then the face vanished back into the pattern of the ceramic glaze and gold.

Damayanti carried the tray into her room and set it down on a small table beside the altar. The afternoon sunlight glinted off of the statues of her parents and Agni. It glistened against the silk cushions that they rested on, bringing out the vibrancy of each different hue and casting soft reflections against the walls. Making sure that she would not be disturbed when everyone returned home, she hung a ‘do not disturb’ sign on the door. Then she retrieved the large golden plate that Agni had given her.

Once she had everything set, she began the puja. She meditated in the sunlight for a little while, clearing her thoughts and centering on what she was going to discuss with her parents. Calling out the ritual prayers to draw their attention while ringing a bell. She lit the candles and incense before them. The offerings were set on the plate inscribed with Sanskrit. Ganesha, Riddhi, and Siddhi first then the one for Agni. All of the offerings disappeared. She felt their presence, but like every time she prayed since being in Nippon, it seemed distant.

“Father, Mother, Sister-Mother, I know that you are busy, but I would like to talk to you.” she stated, “Agni, thank you for all that you do for me.” A sense of expectation fell over her from the Otherworld. The flames of the candles danced merrily. Her hands traveled to her abdomen, knowing there was burgeoning life there. A mixture of tangled emotions welled up within her. The voice of her Divine Father came to her,

“We are listening, Daughter. Please begin.” Damayanti swallowed, her fingers twisting together over her belly.

“I know that two Heroes cannot produce children with Divine essence.” she stated. She got the feeling that this was a correct assessment. Sudden pain of the conflicting emotions rose within her, she gritted her teeth. Tears started to burn at the corners of her eyes. The flames of the candles blurred in her vision. “If I am to carry on with my purpose and my proper Dharma, I will have to suffer the pain that Arlo and I will not be able to raise our children.” A sob erupted from her. Tears started to fall down her cheeks. “I can accept that in the sense that they will be safer away from us with what we have to do.” she choked out. Her eyes flashed violet, almost glowing, she shut them tight as guttural cry of anguish escaped her throat.

The atmosphere of the room grew thick with sympathy and concern. The sunlight streaming through her window was now pale, almost washed out, as if a veiling of cloud dimmed it. She fell prone to the floor, sob after sob coming out of her. Damayanti used the heels of her hands to wipe the now copious flow of tears. The candle flame before Agni’s statue shrunk and dipped as if in shared sadness.

“Oh, my Daughter,” she thought she heard her Father say.

“I can give them to Max and Ishanti to raise, if that is the best option.” she cried, “My only consolation for myself is that maybe Mother can have her wish that she wished for us three. It’s fulfilled one generation later in her grandchildren.” She gasped and choked through the next couple of sobs. The tatami mat beneath her was now wet with tears.

Despair and frustration rose within her, she raised herself to a seated position once more. Shimmering waves of heat started to radiate off of her. Her voice was now strained and raised. Her nails bit into her palms as she crushed her hands into fists. She slammed them into the floor,

“I would not change a thing throughout all of these trials,” she cried angrily, “No matter what has been done to me or others!” A slight scent of ozone and the emotion of alarm filled the room. The flames before her parents’ statues flickered wildly. “Yet, through all of this, I cannot shake the fact that my husband is gone, maybe never to return!” she shrieked, “Even if he did, how can I tell or convince him that he can never have a real family?! That he has to watch his children from afar, if at all?!”

“Daughter…calm…endurance…faith…” was the whisper. Damayanti pulled the left side of her upper kimono away from her body exposing her shoulder and breast,

“The only way I know he is still alive is that I still bear his mark!” she cried, “Faith! I love you all deeply, but what of our faith and endurance when all is shattered and suffering?! What about the fact that I watched part of Arlo’s soul die when he finally found a family who would accept him and lost it nights later?! Tell me that! What of Maya angry and brooding, poor Ishanti, locked within her own mind? Where’s faith then?” There was no answer, the atmosphere grew silent, but no less heavy. Damayanti narrowed her glowing violet eyes, “Tell me, Father, Mothers, which way is the right path? What do you all do for those who are lost?! None of the Gods can take care of them all, can they?!” she hissed. “How am I supposed to face my husband again, when I have logical foreknowledge of the coming tragedy? I am being torn apart!” She raised her fists to her temples as blood seeped between her fingers. Her eyes were wide with fear and rage, “How am I supposed to fight an enemy and his army of shadows who knows one of MY TRUE NAMES?!”

There was no breeze or wind, but quicker than a blink, the candles on the altar went out. The atmosphere slowly settled back to normal. The afternoon sun shone in through the window, at it’s full brightness. She angrily picked up the tray Agni gave her, suddenly gripped by an urge to bend it. Thinking better of it, she put it away in the trunk. She stalked back to the altar,

“Answer me!” she screamed, fists clenched at her sides. There was no answer. With a swift motion of her hand, she violently snuffed out the incense. All of her rage spent, she collapsed to the floor in a heap. “The tides and the storms are coming… You were right about that, Father,” she whispered, “I am being pulled back and forth, I am having trouble navigating the waves and wind of Fate.” Sobs rose again, she cradled her head in the crook of her arm, the other wrapped protectively around her waist. “Everything that has happened to my family is my fault, what am I going to do? I don’t know who I can trust right now,” she hiccupped through the tears. Damayanti stared at the silent statues of her closest in the Pantheon, watched the sunlight make a play of light and shadow upon them, until exhausted, sleep took her.