Clay and Bronze at the Shore
Two who were made, learning to remake themselves...
This is a fictional short story about Talos (Greek Mythology), the bronze sentinel of Crete, who meets Ganesha (Hindu Mythology), the clay son of Goddess Parvati.
If you are unaware of the myths, you can refer to the above resources.
A personal note/reflection on the background of the origin of this story at the end.
Part I: The Endless March
Guard. Guard. Guard.
The only voice I have ever heard.
So I guard, like every other day.
The sea is quiet and beautiful now, like every other day. And I trace the shore, like every other day.
As I always have.
I have patrolled it every single day since I was made. And I do so again today.
I do not remember when I last saw a ship or an invader. I cannot recall when the shore became calm and peaceful. These days, there is no cause for any stone.
But I still march.
Around and around.
The sun has set low, and I go on again.
Guard. Guard. Guard.
The only voice I have ever heard.
So I guard, like every other day.
Part II: The Boy and the Bronze
Aeons have passed since ships last sailed to Crete. But today is not like the others.
There is an elephant-headed boy standing at the edge of the shore, along with a little mouse.
The boy looks at me, as if he is searching for me. As if he had always known I was here.
As if he came looking for me. Nobody has ever looked for me.
The same voice in my head
Guard.
In the instinct of defense, I tried to move my arm, but I could not. The stone was heavy. I never had trouble throwing stones at the invaders. But this time, I could not.
I looked at the boy again. He smiled. A very gentle smile. With his eyes.
Never in my existence I have ever seen somebody smile at me. I have always known fear in the eyes of those who have come to the shore and whom I have fought off.
This time it was different.
I took a few more steps to reach the boy.
The boy said,
“Hello Talos, my name is Ganesha. And this,” he gestures to the mouse curled at his feet, “is Mushika”.
Ganesha is waiting for a response from me. I have never spoken with anyone, because I never needed a language to guard.
I only patrol. Throw stones and roar.
He continues,
“I came to know that you and I share something in common. That we both are made. You out of bronze, and me out of clay. And I could not wait to meet you! So I came searching for you”.
Ganesha sits down on a stone nearby, legs crossed, and Mushika curls beside him.
I stood still. I could not speak with him. I did not know how to. No one had spoken to me like this before. Not as a threat, but as a friend.
Ganesha says, his voice light.
“Yes, I was made too. My mother, Parvati, made me with her own hands. She wished for someone who belonged only to her, so she shaped me from the dust and gave me breath through love”.
He looks out at the sea for a moment, then turns back to me.
“I was made to guard, like you. Not any land or kingdom, but a door. My mother was bathing and she asked me not to let anyone in. And so I obeyed”.
He pauses, picks up a shell, rolling it in his palm.
“My father, Shiva; though I did not know him then, came home. I stopped him. He was furious. But I did not step aside. He did not understand who I was. And I did not understand who he was. I was broken for it. He destroyed me”.
I am puzzled.
He was doing what he was made to do. And still, he was broken for it.
But he goes on, without any bitterness in his voice.
“My mother wept for me. My father and all the other gods saw her agony and they brought me back, gave me a new head, the head of an elephant. Not to replace who I was, but to show that even in brokenness, I could be something new”.
The mouse squeaked softly. Ganesha reached down and scratched behind its ears.
“So Talos, I became something new. I became a remover of obstacles. I was actually made to protect, but now I also listen and guide. And understand”.
Part III: The New Silence
Ganesha then asked me,
“And you? Who made you? What is your story? Why do you walk the shore, day after dat, night after night, when there is no one left to fight?”
I wanted to answer, I know I could, only if I tried.
Looking at Ganesha gave me the courage to let my guard down and remember a memory. To try something new.
Then my words came slow, but deep,
“I was made by Hephaestus, at the command of Zeus, to guard Europa, and the island of Crete. My bronze was shaped with divine fire. I was given the divine ichor, the blood of immortals with a single purpose: Guard. I was told to protect. And so I have”.
He is quiet for a moment. Then asked…
“Who gave you the command, Talos? Where are they now? Whom do you protect now? And from what?”
I do not know.
I do not know.
I reply…
“I was made to guard. That is what I am. From what, I no longer recall. I walk the shore to protect what no longer needs any protecting. I know that much, that I was made for war, but there is no war left here for me. No one left to throw stones at”.
Silence.
A hollow silence.
I look at the sea before me and sky above me, it has turned soft blue-grey, the hour when things shift but say nothing.
For the first time in ages, I thought…
I thought:
But what if they are dead?
What if they have forgotten me?
What if my purpose, like rust, eats me from within?
What if I have guarded nothing for all this time?
Ganesha stands, loosening the shell and brushing sand from his hands.
He nods, and the nod made me feel understood. It makes me feel seen.
He smiles, a very understanding smile. Again with his eyes.
Then, without a word, he lifts his hand in farewell and begins to turn away.
He is leaving now, along with him, Mushika too. As if he had fulfilled the purpose of our meeting. As if he has awakened something in me, and that much, for now, is enough.
He walks away, and I can now hardly see his figure in the wind.
I then hear a voice, a gentle voice.
“Perhaps, what we are made for… is only the beginning. Not the end”.
For the first time since the forge that made me has cooled down, I wondered if that could ever be true.
Then a voice again in my ears, in my head…
Is it his? Or mine? I do not know.
“Perhaps Talos, what you guard is not a place, but a fear…”
Dear Reader,
This story was born because of the dreadful feeling of our purpose thinning as we stretch it too far over and over again.
For me, Clay and Bronze at the Shore reflects the thought many of us feel when we continue to see ourselves only for our function, our utility, or our roles. But deep inside or beneath that bronze armor, we long to be felt simply as a presence, to be not met with expectation but with understanding.
Talos, in this story resembles us guarding our past, of duties once necessary, or fears which were once real, and Ganesha as embodiment of transformation, unexpected presence as a gentle mirror.
We might all be guarding something from the past, could be past versions of ourselves with values or expectations of culture, family, or the high standards we once set in order to survive. But even though the time has long gone, and you survived, we continue circling the same shore again and again.
The shore became, for me, the metaphorical line between the known and the unknown, between our history and our possible becoming. Quite often our mind walks this line: Fearful of what was before, and sensing a shift is needed, but not sure of what lies beyond it. Or afraid of what will remain after the shift occurs.
“Perhaps Talos, what you guard is not a place, but a fear…”
That dread.
There is a line in the story I feel is the most human thing I have written in this tale which is of fiction and myth.
What if my purpose, like rust, eats me from within?
It holds a question that I always fear to ask myself: what if the very things that once gave us strength, direction, or identity, now start to slowly destroy us from within? Could be existential burnout, when the very thing, our values and ways, once so relevant and important, now feels like caging you from clinging too long?
However, this is also a story of possibility and hope.
“Perhaps, what we are made for… is only the beginning. Not the end”.
Could be what we are really protecting is not the truth anymore, but our own fears. And when we face those, we do not find disaster waiting for us, but we find a chance to change and grow.
I would love to know what this story meant to you. What did you see in Talos? Or Ganesha? What do you find in yourself guarding or waiting for a shift?
Until then, yours in thought,
Yana
Excellent perspective