Monthly Archives: May 2025

The Origin of Ganesh

Nationality: American
Age: 32
Occupation: Unemployed
Residence: San Francisco, CA
Language: English

Text:

“As a child, my mother taught me that Ganesh has the head of an elephant because of a story involving his parents, Shiva and Parvathi. One day, when Ganesh was guarding the bath area to protect his mother, Parvathi, he saw Lord Shiva approaching and tried to stop him. Not recognizing Ganesh, Shiva became angry and chopped off his head. When Parvathi saw what had happened, she begged Shiva to save their son. To bring Ganesh back to life, Shiva said the only way was to replace his head with that of the first living creature he came across, which in this case was an elephant. And that is why Ganesh has the head of an elephant.”

Context:

This myth was shared by the informant, P, during a conversation about Hindu stories she heard during childhood. P first heard this myth from her mother, who used it to explain the origin of Ganesh and his unique image. To P, this myth is more than just a story; it is an explanation of Ganesh’s divine role as a protector.

Analysis:

This is a myth because it explains the origins of a sacred figure, Ganesh, using symbolic storytelling to express deep religious beliefs. The story involves gods, supernatural events, and moral values like sacrifice and protection. The elephant head serves both a literal and symbolic purpose, representing wisdom and strength. This myth helps explain not only Ganesh’s physical form but also his cultural role as the remover of obstacles and protector of beginnings.

Neighborhood Vigilante

Nationality: American, Italian
Age: 20
Occupation: Student
Residence: Los Angeles
Language: English

NM has long heard stories of his father’s escapades as a so-called “vigilante” while in high school. The excerpt below is comprised of one of the NM’s favorite stories from his father’s (apparently many) stories of ethically dubious neighborhood watch. The following is paraphrased for clarity, while trying to maintain the story structure.

Father was a “neighborhood vigilante” back in his high school days. He would see a hooligan carjacking a car for example and would proceed to chase them around (noted he carried around a baseball bat specifically for this purpose) and beat the shit out of them…one time in high school he chased a guy (keep in mind, a fully grown man) carjacking and kneecapped him (almost breaks leg). The guy gets back up (miraculously) and keeps running with the dad still chasing…man runs into street and while looking back in fear of father, runs dead into the bed of a truck going down the street (STILL MOVING) and clocks himself (knocked out cold)… fast forward, police get called, guy is (mostly) fine besides a pretty shattered knee. The father when questioned what happened to the man’s knee says “must have been the truck.”

This story, while an intense and very violent story of NM’s father assaulting a grown man while only in high school, still brought about pride in NM about his father’s actions. While NM (hopefully?) doesn’t condone the level of violence he heard while in the legend of his father’s vigilante days, the willingness to step up and defend their morals in the most literal sense is an ideal that NM strives to achieve. An unrelenting pursuit of one’s goals, while physically happening in the story, can represent the metaphorical pursuit of perfection, no matter how daunting the obstacles in the way appear. To a high schooler, being able to step up to a challenge that seems bigger than oneself is nerve-wracking, yet NM’s father was unfazed by any such opponent. Additionally, a story of this caliber instills serious intimidation in a younger NM that commands respect, confirming the father’s role as a hero.

Grandma’s Perfume

Nationality: American
Age: 20
Occupation: Student
Residence: Los Angeles, CA
Language: English

WP got this story from a friend, who fully believes they have been haunted by the ghost of their grandmother. WP mentions the following excerpt is a selection of occurrences told to him by his friend over the course of several weeks and months. The excerpt below is paraphrased for clarity, but the maximum effort was put in to maintain the styling and story of WP.

WP has a friend who lives in great aunt’s former house (great aunt died, family moved in afterwards). 10-15 years ago, great aunt died (family moved in 7-8 years ago). Aunt wore a very specific perfume, but none had been left in the house anymore for years. The friend claims she’s being haunted by her great aunt. One time, she hears a crash in the basement, when she goes to the basement she smells overwhelming scent of the perfume from seemingly nowhere. At other times, she would get a random whiff without rhyme or reason…on stormy days, she says she can smell the perfume much more than usual. As it has been so long since the aunt died, friend claims it must be a haunting. Apparently, the great aunt isn’t vengeful, just kinda hanging around still.

The story told by WP comes from someone who very strongly believes in ghosts and has interacted with them enough to be fully confident that the experiences she had are due to a haunting. However, the paranormal interactions haven’t led to any harm, even noting that after the crash, there didn’t seem to be anything amiss in the basement. As such, WP claimed that he didn’t believe the friend thought the ghost was vengeful or angry in any way. Instead, the ghost could be the great aunt protecting her former home and her descendants by letting them know she is still present. The perfume smell being the strongest indicator of the great aunt’s presence could be linked to the family’s perception of the most memorable aspect of the great aunt, and shows a close tie to the familial home that had been passed down over a generation. WP’s friend also mentions that while the hauntings happen at their home, it is WP’s friend herself who is haunted, and not the house. The specificity to add that they themselves are haunted indicates that the relationship between WP’s friend and her great aunt was especially close, and the memory of the great aunt holds special significance to the friend. Both the house and the perfume are intrinsically linked with the great aunt, and for as long as WP’s friend continues to honor her aunt’s memory, the haunting will continue, as her aunt will look down on her from the spirit world into the world of the living, as the next generation to lead her memory and all that she meant into the future.

Ice Cream Scholarship

Nationality: American
Age: 19
Occupation: Student
Residence: Los Angeles, CA
Language: English

This story comes from BT, who was told it by his grandpa. The excerpt below comes as a section of a longer conversation, but has been pieced together for coherence and clarity. Great care was taken to preserve the language and intent of BT during this story, and was paraphrased for greater readability.

BT’s grandpa on his dad’s side was the youngest of 9 children, and the second one closest to him was 5 years older. At the time, they lived in Fort Madison on the river (a small town in Iowa). In high school, he gets a job at an ice cream shop for like 5 years up until he goes to college. The deal he had with the ice cream shop was that he got paid a few cents for the hours of work (he would get up really early and have to clean the entire store before it opened). As additional compensation, the catch was the fact that he got as much ice cream as he could ever want for free while working. While cleaning up, BT’s grandpa would mix ice cream in the machines, making super thick ice cream (going for like 3 hours). He would always put on the whole thing, peanuts, the works (for toppings). Grandpa does this for 5 years, and eventually has so much dairy, etc. that he bloats out, but also working out a lot, cleaning the store for hours, he becomes a super big kid (fat and muscle). Back when college was kinda cheap, he did his interview for the University of Iowa, to hopefully be accepted into university. He goes into the interview for the college, and the interviewer mistakes him for a football recruit. As a result, he gets a full-ride scholarship to go to Iowa without ever playing a down of football for the school, without anyone seemingly bothered to confirm his status for the entire 4 years.

This story about BT’s grandpa highlights the principle of “don’t look a gift horse in the mouth,” but is instead explained in narrative fashion. While BT’s grandpa didn’t do anything particularly remarkable to receive his full-ride scholarship, he never complained and would routinely brag about his good fortune to both friends and family alike. BT, from the conversation, contained a mix of both pride in his family’s story, defending its values against others listening in, and a twinge of envy for the fortune to have college paid for in full. This story, while perhaps slightly mundane, still teaches a valuable lesson in appreciating the good breaks one gets in life, and to make sure to take every available opportunity, regardless of the pathway it could lead down. As BT’s family hailed from a small rural town in Iowa, the opportunities to expand past their town were somewhat limited, but college was an excellent gateway into a wider world. While the scholarship may have been a fluke, sometimes a bit of good fortune is required to get off the ground. BT has shown growth in himself while interacting with this story over time. At first, it was a funny story about how eating as much ice cream as possible is both cool and effective to further one’s career. As BT grew older, he began to appreciate the nuance in taking rare opportunities and not letting them slip by without at least trying to see the road it leads down.

Woman on the tracks

Nationality: American
Age: 27
Occupation: Digital animator
Residence: Los Angeles, CA
Language: English

The story by HM was told to her through a horse camp at White Pines Ranch, located in rural Illinois, and every year would be a campfire classic. HM recently remembered this story after not hearing it for years, but still thinks it’s one of her favorite stories to tell. The following excerpt is transcribed and paraphrased for clarity, while trying to maintain HM’s intent and phrasing throughout.

There is a graveyard at White Pines Ranch, and specifically a gravestone of a woman there who’s first name is Mary. The counselors there would always take the kids to see the graves, as the gravesite is a historically important site. Later at night the counselors would tell stories around the fire to all the kids, one being about Mary. They tell the story of how she was home alone as her husband was away for several months, maybe fighting in a war or something (kinda irrelevant what he was doing, not at home). He was away, she was alone in her home in rural Illinois, taking care of the baby all alone. One dark and stormy night, it was pouring rain but her baby had a horrible fever, and she was worried about him, so she decided to take the baby to the doctor. It was pouring and impossible to see but she took a carriage (I think?) that she is riding, but she is struggling to steer while holding the baby and it being impossible to see in the middle of the night. Suddenly as she continues on she comes across train tracks but she doesn’t notice as she’s racing to try and save her baby. As the crosses the tracks she tries to beat the train across the tracks but then the train hits the carriage and causes a nasty crash, wood flying everywhere, really terrible crash. She wakes up in the morning and she’s at the doctors. The doctor says “you’re so lucky to be alive, your horse was injured, your carriage was destroyed.” Mary asks “where’s my baby?” but the doctor responds “what baby? There was no baby.” The woman explains that she was racing to the doctor’s to save her sick baby but the doctor maintains that they found absolutely no sign of any baby by the crash, not even a cradle. Mary is distraught. The husband gets word of the crash and comes back, but he also has no recollection of ever having a baby. After that Mary goes completely crazy and eventually dies, to be buried at the rural gravesite. Now, on dark and stormy nights like that one, when trains pass by in the night, people say you can still hear a woman screaming in the middle of the night, “WHERE’S MY BABY????” [yelled towards nearest unsuspecting camper by anyone who had heard the story before].

The story above was a ghost story that would be told every year, highlighting a strong tradition that was honored over time. HM mentioned that she didn’t fully remember how the story was told, but a story of this length that had been enjoyed by so many people would have been subjected to the law of self-correction every time it was told over the campfire with so many returning campers and counselors. This would keep the story consistent and effective to allow all of the returning people to be in on the scare factor at the end. The “where’s my baby?” as the last line of the story was done every single year, with someone who had already heard the story turning to a new face, grabbing them and wailing the line in unison with everyone else. This story serves as an initiation into the White Pines Ranch culture, much like in other pieces of workplace folklore. The consistency of the tradition allows everyone who was a part of the ranch to have a piece of shared culture they could take home, marking them as true members of White Pines Ranch. The ranch is steeped in history, with the historic gravesite, and the history of the gravesite is maintained by the legends told of those laid to rest there, as the graves are now too old for descendants to remember them anymore. The utmost respect to the gravesite and its inhabitants is given by allowing it to live on in the memories and traditions of the ranch built right next to it, keeping Mary’s tragic story alive for generations to come.