CZM Book Club: "The Three Trials of the Wind," by Shiv Ramdas, Part 1 of 2

Margaret reads you a reimagining of Hindu mythology by a masterful speculative fiction author.

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Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:01):
Cool Zone Media book Club book Club book Club. Hello
and welcome to the Cool Zone Media book Club, which
is your weekly book club that you don't have to
do the reading for because I do the reading for you.
I'm Margaret Kiljoy, your host today, and today I have

(00:25):
a short story I'm really excited about. This is a
story I was pretty sure I was going to do
ever since I first took on this here book club.
It's a story by an author named Shiv Ramdas. And
I first read this story a couple of years ago
because my friend Shiv, who you might have heard on

(00:45):
cool People who did cool stuff. He was a reverse guest.
He told me the story of the Great Gama and
you all should go listen to that. But that one's real.
This one's fiction. Is there a different U who knows?
I mean there's a difference, but you know, reality is mutable. Anyway,

(01:10):
she was like, Hey, of this story, I think you
might like it. I wrote a sort of anarchist interrogation
of Hindu mythology. You want to read it, dear listener.
The answer was yes, I did want.

Speaker 2 (01:22):
To read it.

Speaker 1 (01:24):
In fact, years later, I want to read it to you.
But first this isn't an ad transition. It's a bio
transition in which I now read you Shiv's bio. Shiv
Ramdas is a multi award nominated author of speculative fiction,
short stories, and novels. He lives and writes in Seattle,

(01:46):
Washington with his wife in Three Cats. In twenty twenty,
he became one of only two Indian writers to ever
be nominated for a Hugo, a Nebula and an Ignite
Award in the same year. He also gained Twitter fame
in twenty twenty for live tweeting the saga of his
brother in law's Rice Mishap. His first novel, Dome Child,
was India's first mainstream cyberpunk novel. His short fiction has

(02:09):
appeared in Slate, Strange Horizons, Fireside Fiction, Podcastle and other publications.
This story, which is called The Three Trials of the Wind,
has actually only been published previously to this on his Patreon,
which he has one in case you want more of
the Patreon only content. And yeah, this is an interrogation

(02:31):
of Hindu mythology. A lot of the names have been changed,
but I think to people who understand Hindu mythology better
than I do, it'll probably be obvious who I'm talking about.
The Three Trials of the Wind by shiv Ramdas. On
the last day of heaven, the great god Raka sent

(02:53):
for his Guru and bade him to prepare for the end.
Then he shaded his eyes, looking out his window once more,
all the way to the horizon, the red tinged ocean raged,
although no longer did it rise through the water. The
tips of golden roofs peeped out, twisted by the currents,
yet standing proud against the swell. Far below, under the

(03:16):
depths lay the broken pillars and scattered stones, all that
remained of the ivory towers. Overhead, an angry, purple sky loomed,
the only light coming from a glimmering sea under the
ghostly glow of a ragged, fading moon. A flash of
movement caught the corner of Roka's eye, and he turned
his attention to the countless little dots battling violent, ever

(03:39):
reddening waves, each one a ship swarming with asaurus. He
reached for his thunderbolt, which was never far from his side.
The temptation to strike those distant dots with a few
blasts from his vadra was both great and easily indulged,
For Raca never missed it would be the easiest thing
in all three worlds to blow a few of them

(04:00):
to atoms, also the most futile, For every ship he saw,
another thousand from the swarm lurked hidden, and so Raka
of the Evil Eye instead turned his gaze over the
Visceraa of Heaven threw the spray from the roaring waves
crashing down all around him, beyond the rubble and ruin
of his kingdom, sweeping past in the tide, to the

(04:22):
farthest edge of the horizon, where blinked the tiniest point
of light, so faint even he could scarce make it out,
and he smiled the smile of victory. On the seventh
to last day of Heaven, Hani lowered of the wind,
alighted at the foot of Pahadra. There it stood greatest

(04:45):
peak in creation, the mountain between worlds, the holy abode
of Acnos himself. Hani looked up at the rocky expanse,
and it was as Acnos's brow frowning back down at him,
craggy and forbidding, hard and black, rising all the way
into the clouds, where the greater part of it lay hidden.
A single, narrow worn path curled its silvery way around

(05:07):
the mass of expanse a worm clinging to an elephant's toe.
Honey paid it no heed, for he intended to fly
straight up to the summit. You'll want to take the path,
Honey whirled around to find her jogging on the spot,
a middle aged woman in wrap around sunglasses, hair tied
in a topknot, wearing a tiger print track suit and

(05:29):
red sneakers. Holding a bottle of water. She smiled a
broad and brilliant flash of white, quite unblemished by the
fact that she was missing a tooth. Unless you've got
lots of time and nothing to do, of course, I
suppose gods have more time than most. Honey raised an eyebrow.

Speaker 2 (05:49):
Who might you be?

Speaker 1 (05:51):
The woman sighed, Why don't I ever get the bright ones? No,
don't answer that. It's a trick question. The bright ones
don't come here now. I'll be honest, I do somewhat
resent the fact that I had to interrupt my breathing
exercises and run to you with my chakras still all
tangled up. So let's just pretend you're bright enough to
take what you're getting for free, even if it is

(06:12):
just advice. Lord Hani, here's what all the pilgrims are
supposed to know. Three things. Count them if you don't
believe me. First, if you intend to go to Acnose,
and of course you do. But what you see there
is the path of three trials. Long story short, Take
the path. Want to hear the official version. It's all

(06:34):
grand and wordy about how the path to Aknos has
opened all who would brave the three trials? Blah blah
que drum roll. But I'm you get it, I'm sure. Second,
and this one's my favorite. Once you take the path,
you will not be irked by beast, or weather or foe.
It's supposed to just be the trials between you and
your goal.

Speaker 2 (06:54):
See what's that?

Speaker 1 (06:55):
Got something to say? Only that I get this one too,
answered Hanni. She grinned again. See that's why it's my favorite.
Nobody ever argues with that one. Mortals, gods, asuras. Everyone
likes hearing nice things. Anyway, Where were we?

Speaker 2 (07:11):
Ah?

Speaker 1 (07:12):
Yes, the third This isn't really one of the official ones.
I just added it on so that there'd be three
trials and three rules, and it's all a lot more symmetrical.
It's the one where I tell you that you won't
succeed and you should go back now. No shame in
not being the first. Just a thought, said honey. If
indeed you give all this advice to everyone and nobody

(07:34):
ever succeeds, isn't that a good reason to not listen
to you and just fly straight up?

Speaker 2 (07:41):
Good?

Speaker 1 (07:42):
You're trying to be bright, replied the woman, nodding approvingly.
Although I'd have thought that someone who's actually in the
scriptures would know them. Forgotten what happened when Mytar and
Oton had their bet to see who could find the
beginning or the end of Acnos. First, Oton flew up
into the sky for an eternity before realizing he could
never get there. No, if you want to find Acnos,

(08:03):
you must approach him as any mortal would. Didn't you
say you'd understood the rules? Certainly, I remember the scriptures,
replied Hani. And the story you speak of told of
a pillar of fire, not Mount Pahata. The woman waved
her hand, fiery pillar, black mountain. What's the difference. It's
all Acnos, and there's nothing in the scriptures about approaching

(08:26):
Aknos as a mortal would She sniffed, Well, not everything
is in the scriptures, Lord Hani. For instance, there's nothing
in them about your contrarian personality either. If that's how
you're going to be, I'll merely say good luck to
you in happy travels, whichever direction you choose. One moment,
said Hani, holding up a hand before you go. Is

(08:47):
there anything you can tell me about these trials? Anything
that will help? It's vital that I reached Aknos immediately.
You think you're the first to come here. No, I look,
I don't care why you came. That's not my job.
Everyone's got problems, Lord Hani. That's why they come here.
That's why we have a system. And the system is
I give you the rules, and you take the path.

(09:09):
If you have an issue, I suggest you take it
up at the top. There was a terrible silence, during
which even Hani knew not whether he would respond with
passion or patience. For the wind blows gales both hot
and cold. But in the end calm prevailed and he
satisfied himself with a formal bow and a frosty manner.

(09:29):
Thank you for your advice, he said. She looked at him.
You know you took that better than most. You're not
a bad sort.

Speaker 2 (09:36):
Really, I like you.

Speaker 1 (09:38):
I'm sorry you only had two temples. I appreciate the thought,
said Hani. But now I must go, for I have
no time to lose, and the sun has long since risen.
Hani set off on the narrow, winding path to the summit.
At first he tried flying, but in vain there was
some force preventing him from taking to the air. Whatever

(09:58):
it was, it was evident only on the path itself,
or Hani found he could fly alongside it quite comfortably.
It was only when he attempted to cross over it
to avoid a particularly nasty outcropping of rock, and found
himself unable to re enter the trail's narrow confines that
he realized what had happened that he would have to
go back to the beginning and start again on foot.

(10:20):
This time, so he descended, wondering if she would still
be there. Sure enough, she was flashing her gap toothed
grin at him from a distance. You can't cheat, aknos, lord, Hani,
she called out, one foot in front of the other.
That's how you do it, Honey, ignored her, concentrating on
making up for lost time by running up the path

(10:41):
as swiftly as he could, which was very swift. Indeed,
that the lord of the wind had given up his
power of flight, but little else. Onward and upward he sped,
light of foot, but heavy of heart. In his mind
he relived it again what had transpired when a god
had been asked the unthinkable by king. My Lord, I

(11:02):
cannot do this. You can, and it must be you,
for no other would reach him in time. I cannot
ask this Acanus would smite me ere I finished speaking, nay,
for he has promised you a boon and will not
break his word. But even if true, you have sworn
obedience unto death to your king. And this is what
I command. But my King, what you command me to

(11:25):
ask of him is the nritya. This is wrong. Rakus
stood tall, and the thunderclouds gathered and darkened on his brow.
More wrong than your refusal to stop the darkness, than
seeing Paradise overrun by the invaders and their children, then
standing against your own kind in order to aid the usurpers.
Is this your honor? And Dharma? And Hani felt his

(11:49):
will weaken under Raka's relentless gaze. For the wind may
sometimes scatter the clouds but they always return, bringing with
them ever more of the storm. He bowed his head.
I do as you bid, my King. Then the vision
was gone, and Hani, messenger of Racca, was still running
up the path to the summit of Bahada, faster, higher,

(12:12):
until he had long since ceased to be able to
see the ground, billowing clouds forming a thick, soupy fog
everywhere but the path he was on, the unmistakable smell
of green meeting water all around, and the bidding that
I have to do to my king. King. Capitalism is
interrupt stories with ad transitions like this one.

Speaker 2 (12:46):
And we're back.

Speaker 1 (12:51):
On the last day of heaven. Raka, lord of Paradise,
still stood motionless at his window. There was a footstep
at the threshold and swept into the royal bedchamber, pulling
fast the curtains of solitude behind him, and the war
drums finally fell silent, although the stench of burning flesh
and dead hope still lingered. Raka turned palms folded garadev.

(13:15):
He said, Thatha raised his hand in the customary blessing
tathas do my king, at last you send for me.
I've been trying to speak with you for days It's
finally time, Gurudev. There was a heavy silence, and then
Raka turned a look out of the window again. Atha
came to stand beside him. Outside, the waves were even

(13:36):
larger than before, crashing down ever more furiously. Lord Jalastoe
fights bravely, said Thotha. Even the ocean has its limits,
said Raka, And there are too many of them. Fatha squinted.
It's so very dark I can hardly make out anything.
And it'll grow darker still. Sojon fell yesterday. The sun

(13:59):
shall not rise again. Soon the blackness will cover Paradise.
How did it come to this? What of the other gods?
What of them? You've been shut away offering prayers for
our victory for too long? Growuedeve. Paradise will fall, probably
within hours. Where is my tar? It is the Preserver's

(14:19):
duty to intervene when the balance is threatened and aid
the forces of light. You must send for him at once.
Do you think I don't know that? When the tide
first began to turn in this war, I immediately sent
word to him. Nobody can find him. We've searched all
three worlds again and again. In vain Tatha's shoulders drooped

(14:40):
His voice was a hoarse whisper.

Speaker 2 (14:42):
So it's over.

Speaker 1 (14:44):
I won't permit darkness to prevail, no matter the cost.
Listen to me, Raka, as your guru and adviser. My
duty is always to speak my truth to you, and
my advice is that you should sue for peace with
the Assurus. And never Raka had drawn himself up very straight.

(15:04):
The lightning flashed in his eyes. You ask the impossible.
This clash of civilizations began too many yugas ago, and
too much blood has been spilled. It was the Assurus
who broke our treaty, not I. It was they who
turned on us after the churning. Forget your ideas of
surrender and compromise. None of it will happen, not while

(15:24):
I am king. Do you really think that I would
see paradise to face with their grotesque domes and twisted minarets. No,
now we must no longer look to Otan, but to Aknos. Aknos.
You say, Paradise is but ours left, and Bahada lies
at the far edge of creation. Even Hani would take
weeks he stopped. When did you send him? Maybe just

(15:49):
in time? Have faith in Hani? I do faith? Is
it the best we can do. Faith is what makes
gods of us all guradeve. There was a long, cold
silence in the bedchamber. Together they stared out of the
window outside. The ocean had gone completely still, nary a
ripple on the deep Crimson crimson water. Lord Jalla has fallen,

(16:14):
said Thafa. In a way, it no longer matters. It's
all up to Hani. Now you really think we can
depend on Acnos. There is none more capricious than the destroyer.
He he broke off, his eyes wide the Nritya, He
whispered exactly. Hani will not ask Aknos to intervene. Instead,

(16:37):
he will ask the destroyer for a boon. He cannot
refuse to perform his own dharma, to break his meditation,
to do his dance of destruction and end creation now,
before the forces of darkness ever taste victory from the
ashes of this universe, Otan will breathe life into another
and perhaps the Raca, and that creation will succeed at

(16:58):
quelling the Assaurus once in all. Fatha shook his head rapidly.
No Rakkan, no destroy all that is and will be extinguished,
all of creation before it's time. What has come over you?
You cannot but I have Hani agreed to this madness.
His agreement is unnecessary. I am his king, obeying me

(17:21):
as his dharma. He walks the path I charged him to.
If this is the path you have chosen, we have
already lost it is Make your peace with it, Gurudave,
there is no peace in what you ask, only damnation.
May oton grant as salvation. Don't waste time praying to Otan.
Gurudave answered, Raka, pray instead for Hani. He turned back

(17:47):
to the window. If there's salvation to be had, it
shall come to us on the wind. On the sixths,
the last day of heaven, Hani of the Terrible Purpose,
was now walking and beginning to despair that he'd ever
got anywhere. Hundreds of yojanas he had traveled, and it

(18:07):
was somehow always the same, narrow and winding, criss crossed
by rivulets, although the stones underfoot held firm and true.
It was not hard going or even easy going. It
was just going on and on, one step after another,
each one heavier than the last, with the burden of
what would happen if he failed or succeeded. He was

(18:27):
finally beginning to tire when he turned yet another bend
and came to get another stream across the path. Honey
knelt down and drank, splashing the cold, clear water on
his face, looking into the stream as the droplets splashed
back down, forming ripples and tides of their own before
slowly fading away. But the face that looked back at
him from the stream was no longer his. It was

(18:50):
dark and fierce, with a large, bristling mustache, the face
of an asura. Honey reached up to touch his face
that wasn't and recoiled as he realized that neither was.
The hand broad and hairy, with thick fingers wearing gold rings.
Hani leaped to his feet, and that was when he
realized he was no longer on the path. It was

(19:10):
in a huge, richly bedecked hall with tapestries and weapons
on the walls. It was a place he had never
seen before, resplendent in gold and deep burgundy. The roof
was gold too, and at his feet ran the stream,
one of many that laced the engraved floor, sending wafts
of coolness into the humid air. Hani noticed that he

(19:31):
wasn't alone. Indeed, the hall was filled with people, and
they all looked like him, dressed in fine clothes adorned
with flowers and jewels alike. And they were all looking
straight ahead to the massive gold throne at the front
of the hall, and the richly dressed king on it.
And before the throne stood another man, traveler or tramp.
It was hard to say. His clothes had once been fine,

(19:54):
but were now more tatter than cloth. The king spoke, well, Malla,
what say you shall we accept this treaty? A woman
stepped forward, a tall asura with long, thick hair adorned
with white jasmines. My lord, I've heard whispers among the
court that say we should imprison these visitors who enter

(20:15):
our borders uninvited. I say that this is an unworthy response.
The Uponas have traveled far to come to our land.
At the very least, we should receive them with the
courtesy do visitors, and even help them if we can.
If what Raca says is indeed true, that the Preserver
himself has agreed to aid us in this quest, it
certainly merits careful consideration. And Hani looked again, and the

(20:39):
beggar was indeed Raca, a younger frailer Raca, but unmistakably him.
Every word is true, said Raca. Otan himself suggested it.
At the bottom of the cosmic ocean of milk lies Rasa,
the nectar of divinity, And the only way any of
us will ever taste any is if we work together. Nay,

(21:01):
said the other Asura. Even if we work together, how
could we find the Rasa and the ocean of milk?
There is no power in any of the three worlds
that could possibly scour its depths by churning the ocean
until Rossuf rises to the surface. A ripple of laughter
ran through the hall. Where would you find the churning

(21:22):
rod for such a task, Which is why we this
show are sponsored by big churning rod. Get your churning
rod today or all your churning.

Speaker 2 (21:31):
Needs, and we're back.

Speaker 1 (21:47):
Lord Oton has thought of this Mount Blenna shall be
our churning rod. And where do we get a churning
rope large enough to girdle the mountain? At Oton's request, Erius,
the celestial serpent has agreed to be our churn rope. Nonsense.
The mountain will just sink like a stone in a
pond if it does. Lord Otan has vowed to take

(22:08):
the avatar of Kurma, the tortoise and place the mountain
on his back, so we can keep churning until we
have the rasa and the nectar. We share half for
the upon Us, half for the Asuras, restoring equality to
both our peoples and ensuring this alliance prevails till the
end of time. You certainly seem to have all the answers, Raka,
said the king, What say you la her Teku? And

(22:32):
Hani realized they were all looking at him, and he
stood in silence, for he knew the scriptures, and so
he knew what would happen. There would be no rasa
for the Asuras.

Speaker 2 (22:41):
And yet what.

Speaker 1 (22:42):
Could all of this be but a test of his honor,
for he was Hani, not Lahr Taku, and surely the
path to ask Aknos a boon for his king lay
and not betraying that king. And so he assented in
a voice to match his new body, heavy and rumbling.
My adviser agree, said the king, as do I very well, Raka,

(23:04):
you will have your alliance. I do have one request, Maharaj,
since it is us upon Us who brought this proposition
to you, we only ask that we be allowed to
choose which end of the celestial serpent we shall churn
with and we ask that we get to hold it
by the tail while the assurus take the head. I
agree to your terms, said the king, and together we'll

(23:26):
churn the ocean. A cheer went up, and by the
time it ceased, Hani found Raka standing before him. Thank
you for your assistance, said Raka, extending his hand. I
look forward to this alliance between our people. Hani clasped
the hand with both of his and then realized it
was no longer a hand, but a thick, green, black scale,

(23:48):
one of the quadrillions, all along, a gargantuan serpent that
stretched all the way across all there was. He stood
under the open, starless black sky, stripped to the waist,
the taste of sweat in his mouth, heaving and yanking
at the scale, thousands of other asuras around him, all
striving to do the same thing. He heard a squelching

(24:10):
underfoot and looked down. He was knee deep in white,
sweet smelling liquid milk. He felt his muscles ripping and
burning as a loud voice shouted at him to pull harder.
Then the air was filled with a thick green mist
that reached out with malevolent fingers, wafting up his nose
and throat, and he was sputtering, choking, fighting for air

(24:32):
as tears streamed down his cheeks into the milk below.
Through bleary vision, he could see the other assurus coughing too.
Several had fallen overcome by fumes. Break time next shift
up roared the voice, and a young assor ran in
to grab the scale Hani was pulling at, already beginning

(24:53):
to cough. Hani somehow made his way out of the
noxious green air and fell to the ground stole, coughing.
Someone clapped him on the shoulder and he looked up
as best he could at another asura. Almost there. He grinned,
wiping his own eyes, first the poison, then the rasa.

(25:14):
A third asura came up, tears streaming down his cheeks.
Where is the stuff coming from? Erius answered the other.
The poison streams into him as we churn the ocean,
and he breathes it out. Meanwhile, the Apanas have the
tail and no trouble at all. Why our king agreed
to this? I have no idea. What's done is done.

(25:36):
Focus on what we can achieve together instead. Hani listened
to this exchange, still feeling light headed. Should he tell
them the truth. No, why should he Hani work against
his own people? Although in truth, the longer he spent
in this body, the less he felt like Hani or
anything he recognized as though he was, but he wasn't.

(25:56):
That everyone looked at him, but none saw him. It's
here a great shout went up, followed by an even
louder cheer. The next moment, Raka stood near by, holding
aloft large golden pot as one. They all crowded around him,
eager hands reaching out all but Hani lahr Teku, who,

(26:16):
knowing what came next, stood far back. And as it
was written, so did it happen. The Apanas drank their share,
and no sooner was it time for the asaurus to
have theirs than Otan changed form. And there stood Mohini,
deity of distraction, casting her spell of diversion, whispering in
the ear of every asir at, once sowing her seas

(26:39):
of suspicion and anger. As the asor a host turned
on itself in blood lust. As the Apanas drank everyone's share,
Hani Lahurteku stood there, shielding his ears and his mind,
refusing to listen to the sweet voice calling him to arms.
With hands clapped to his ears and jaw clenched. He
looked at the apanas there was EMUs drinking his fill,

(27:02):
and there was Ashi laughing happily, her mouth stained with nectar.
One and all. The only one Hani could not see
was himself, and his memories, growing ever more confused, yielded
him nothing. Had he in fact been there, or had
he drunk of the rasa later, his mind was silent
upon the point, as are the scriptures to this very day.

(27:26):
A growing unease clasped at Hani laher teku, the cold
touch of dread creeping up his spine. Could it be
that the reason he could not see himself among his
brethren was that he was trapped here in the Assura body.
Was this to be his fate? Lost and forgotten, never
to attain the divinity, never to fly again. He looked

(27:47):
again at his fellow upon us, and in their pleasure,
he took no solace as they sat there, now glowing
with celestial power, the golden pot lying unbidden in the
milky swell, a last few drops still kissing its surface.
Without thinking, he moved, pounding forward on thick muscular legs,
closer He was almost there. Then his foot caught in

(28:09):
something and over. He splashed, landing next to the golden
pot as he watched a drop of nectar weld on
its lip, repairing to obey gravity's bidding. Reaching out, he
caught it, bringing up his hand to his mouth. He
felt it touch his tongue, surely the sweetest, most delightful
taste in all the cosmos, light and airy, with a

(28:31):
hint of eternity about it. As he swallowed, he felt
a terrible blow to the knee, pain such as he
had never felt before. The akward fumes of flame filled
his nostrils. Hani collapsed, leg buckling uselessly and on fire.
Before him stood Raka Vodra, raised and pointing at him.

(28:52):
Now Otan shouted Raka, and from the corner of his eye,
Hani caught the most fleeting glimpse of whirling gold and
then struck him on the neck. Otin's discus with all
its awesome force. For the second time in just a
few moments. He felt the most intense agony he'd ever experienced.
Not even Raca's thunderbolt had cut like this, cleaving bone

(29:13):
from body, ripping flesh from frame, and all he could
do was scream, scream, as loudly as he could in
that low rumbling voice, as his newly divine head was
severed from his body, just as the scriptures told, now
immortal Laher from lifeless Teku. He landed with another loud splash,

(29:33):
watching what had been his body thrash around, turning the
milk of the ocean a pale rose pink. The salty,
sweet milk pulled him under, filling his mouth, nose, eyes, everything,
And still he screamed to any who would listen, that
he had been cheated of his godhood, that it was
all a mistake, that it was not he whom they
should strike, that there was rasa enough for everyone. Then

(29:57):
the milk was gone, and he lay screaming into the
stream on the path, and the face that screamed back
from the water was his once more. And that's the
end of part one. When we come back with part two,
we will continue with the Trials of the Wind by
shiv Ramdas it.

Speaker 2 (30:18):
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Speaker 1 (30:31):
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