Sunday Dinner (Mythklok Seasonal)
Dec. 16th, 2011 08:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tikificTitle: Sunday Dinner (Mythklok Seasonal)
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Dinner and a story with Ganesh's relatives
Warnings: Might make you hungry. Or spoil your appetite.
Notes: This one is based on an actual legend about Ganesha that I was reading today instead of doing something I ought.
“NAAAAAAAAN!”
“Beta!” scolded Ganesh. “What do we say?”
“Mo naan pweese, Wantie Sara!” corrected Boon, blinking his pretty brown eyes appealingly at his doting aunt.
“Here you go, little jaanu!” cooed Auntie Sarasvati, heaping some more flatbread – warm and straight from the tandoori – onto his plate. And while she was at it, she dished up scoops of paneer and chickpeas, as well as freshly made pakoras and samosas.
“Harrrumph!” harrumphed Great Brahma. “Sizable appetite, that one!”
“Yeah, we're not exactly sure where he puts it,” said Charles, patting his happily smacking son's only normally chubby belly. “He hasn't been growing more than usual. I mean, either up or out.”
“He has his father's appetite!” trilled Sarasvati, settliing her ample bulk back into her chair.
“Well, yeah,” admitted Charles, casting a covetous glance back at the pie cooling on the kitchen counter. “I guess I have sometimes been known to get peckish.”
“Sometimes?” chuckled Ganesh.
“Oh, no no no, little jaanu!” said Sarrasvati. “I meant his father, Ganesha!”
“What?” said Charles.
“Yes, that one was a glutton! Of legendary proportions! Legendary!” agreed Great Brahma, stuffing his mouth with the scalloped potatoes. “Like the time Shiva sent you to see your Uncle Kubera!”
“That story,” sniffed Ganesh, “is a rank exaggeration.”
“What story?” prompted Charles.
“Wat stowwy?” agreed Elias, gnawing on his naan.
“Kubera!” said Great Brahma, reaching for another hunk of savory sacred cow steak. “Always bragging about his fabled city, Alakapuri!”
“Tiresome,” sighed Ganesh, pushing his chair back and pulling a thin beedi out of his vest pocket. “He was forever inviting my father to dinner.”
“Said he'd feed him like no king had ever dined!” said Brahma, badly covering a burp. “So Shiva said, here, just take my little son, Ganesha, he's just a sprite, and you can feed him. And so they took him in. You should have seen the dining hall! And there they were, gods and men, gathered for the feast, and in the seat of honor, little Ganesha. And the kitchen staff began bringing out the first course: canapes of all kinds, lovely pakora and delicious shrimp cocktail and succulent goat cheese and crispy calamari and savory dumplings of all kinds. And Ganesha ate them, and not just his servings, the servings for the guests, and the servings for the hosts, and the servings that the kitchen staff had put aside for themselves, and then he held up his empty plate and asked for more.”
“I was in the middle of a growth spurt,” said Ganesh, drawing on his cigarette.
“And then the second course, soups of all kind!” continued Brahma. “There was consomme and cream of potato and gumbo and chicken noodle and Ganesha sucked them up in his little trunk! He sucked them dry, every tureen, and held up his empty bowl and asked for more.”
“You weren't a vegetarian yet, I take it,” asked Charles, wiping a bit of paneer off Elias' chin.
“I was a bit more, er, omnivorous in those days,” Ganesh admitted.
“And then came the main course! There was beefsteak and goose and chicken and lamb and ostrich and salmon and three bean salad....”
“So they did have a vegetarian option!” bragged Ganesh.
“How, uh, forward thinking of them. And I take it you ate that too?”
“He ate every bit of the salad!” declared Brahma. “As well as the meat! And used the dinner rolls to mop up all the sauce! And then he asked for more!”
“This was a growth spurt?” asked a now skeptical Charles. Ganesh shrugged.
“And then the dessert course!” said Brahma.
“Dessert?” asked Charles. “Was there-?”
“PIE!” said Brahma, to a long sigh from Charles. “And ice cream and cake and petit fours and Waldorf pudding and eclairs au chocolat and nougat de Montelimar and tiramisu and sherbet....”
“I always find sherbet to be a bit disaapointing,” Ganesh admitted.
“And then little Ganesha asked for more! But Kubera said, Shri Ganesha, there is no more! So then little Ganesha, he started on the tableware: devouring the plates, cups and saucers, the silverware, the tablecloth, the curtains, he even crawled up and the very wall and chomped on the chandelier!”
“Hmpf. That an exaggeration. Kubera's chandelier always looked like that,” insisted Ganesh.
“You ate a lamp?” asked a very scandalized Charles, covering a bewildered Elias' ears.
“I may have possibly gnawed a bit on a light fixture,” allowed Ganesh, pouring himself a bit more merlot. “One of the tackier ones.”
“So Kubera called upon Lord Shiva, and told him, you must stop your son, before he's eaten my house, myself, and my guests!”
“So,” urged Charles. “What did Shiva do?”
“Well, he came out, and he brought a little cup of Auntie's rice pudding, didn't he, Auntie?” asked Ganesh.
“Oh, you've always favored my rice pudding,” cooed Sarasvati.
“And Ganesha ate that all up, and then, and only then, he was satisfied, because unlike everything Kubera had offered that day, it was made with love,” declared Great Brahma.
“It always fills one up,” said Ganesha. “Unless one is a hungry angel, of course.”
“And Shiva said,” Brahma concluded, poking up a big red finger, “he said, there you go, Kubera. Little Ganesha is all finished now. See you next Sunday!”
And at that, Great Brahma, Sarasvati, and Ganesh all doubled over and began laughing uncontrollably.
Charles gazed around at the chortling Hindu pantheon. “Oh. I get it. It was a prank.”
“Father was always such a kidder,” laughed Ganesh.
“That was one of his best!” agreed Brahma. “Speaking of which, Sarasvati, my flower, is that pie cooled now?”
“Oh, yes!” trilled Sarasvati, drying a tear with the corner of her apronn and flouncing into the kitchen.
“Uh,” said Charles.
“Yes?” asked Ganesh.
“Uh, you're not gonna believe me, but, I'm not sure I'm hungry.”
“Oh, really?” smiled Ganesh.
“Blueberry crumble!” announced Sarasvati, who was at that very moment unveiling the freshly baked delicacy right under Charles' nose.
“Well,” said Charles, eyeing Elias, “Maybe just one little piece.”
“Bie!” agreed Elias, who was clapping. So they all ate pie, with a side of ice cream and ceiling fan.
(No, I'm just kidding about the ceiling fan.)
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Dinner and a story with Ganesh's relatives
Warnings: Might make you hungry. Or spoil your appetite.
Notes: This one is based on an actual legend about Ganesha that I was reading today instead of doing something I ought.
“NAAAAAAAAN!”
“Beta!” scolded Ganesh. “What do we say?”
“Mo naan pweese, Wantie Sara!” corrected Boon, blinking his pretty brown eyes appealingly at his doting aunt.
“Here you go, little jaanu!” cooed Auntie Sarasvati, heaping some more flatbread – warm and straight from the tandoori – onto his plate. And while she was at it, she dished up scoops of paneer and chickpeas, as well as freshly made pakoras and samosas.
“Harrrumph!” harrumphed Great Brahma. “Sizable appetite, that one!”
“Yeah, we're not exactly sure where he puts it,” said Charles, patting his happily smacking son's only normally chubby belly. “He hasn't been growing more than usual. I mean, either up or out.”
“He has his father's appetite!” trilled Sarasvati, settliing her ample bulk back into her chair.
“Well, yeah,” admitted Charles, casting a covetous glance back at the pie cooling on the kitchen counter. “I guess I have sometimes been known to get peckish.”
“Sometimes?” chuckled Ganesh.
“Oh, no no no, little jaanu!” said Sarrasvati. “I meant his father, Ganesha!”
“What?” said Charles.
“Yes, that one was a glutton! Of legendary proportions! Legendary!” agreed Great Brahma, stuffing his mouth with the scalloped potatoes. “Like the time Shiva sent you to see your Uncle Kubera!”
“That story,” sniffed Ganesh, “is a rank exaggeration.”
“What story?” prompted Charles.
“Wat stowwy?” agreed Elias, gnawing on his naan.
“Kubera!” said Great Brahma, reaching for another hunk of savory sacred cow steak. “Always bragging about his fabled city, Alakapuri!”
“Tiresome,” sighed Ganesh, pushing his chair back and pulling a thin beedi out of his vest pocket. “He was forever inviting my father to dinner.”
“Said he'd feed him like no king had ever dined!” said Brahma, badly covering a burp. “So Shiva said, here, just take my little son, Ganesha, he's just a sprite, and you can feed him. And so they took him in. You should have seen the dining hall! And there they were, gods and men, gathered for the feast, and in the seat of honor, little Ganesha. And the kitchen staff began bringing out the first course: canapes of all kinds, lovely pakora and delicious shrimp cocktail and succulent goat cheese and crispy calamari and savory dumplings of all kinds. And Ganesha ate them, and not just his servings, the servings for the guests, and the servings for the hosts, and the servings that the kitchen staff had put aside for themselves, and then he held up his empty plate and asked for more.”
“I was in the middle of a growth spurt,” said Ganesh, drawing on his cigarette.
“And then the second course, soups of all kind!” continued Brahma. “There was consomme and cream of potato and gumbo and chicken noodle and Ganesha sucked them up in his little trunk! He sucked them dry, every tureen, and held up his empty bowl and asked for more.”
“You weren't a vegetarian yet, I take it,” asked Charles, wiping a bit of paneer off Elias' chin.
“I was a bit more, er, omnivorous in those days,” Ganesh admitted.
“And then came the main course! There was beefsteak and goose and chicken and lamb and ostrich and salmon and three bean salad....”
“So they did have a vegetarian option!” bragged Ganesh.
“How, uh, forward thinking of them. And I take it you ate that too?”
“He ate every bit of the salad!” declared Brahma. “As well as the meat! And used the dinner rolls to mop up all the sauce! And then he asked for more!”
“This was a growth spurt?” asked a now skeptical Charles. Ganesh shrugged.
“And then the dessert course!” said Brahma.
“Dessert?” asked Charles. “Was there-?”
“PIE!” said Brahma, to a long sigh from Charles. “And ice cream and cake and petit fours and Waldorf pudding and eclairs au chocolat and nougat de Montelimar and tiramisu and sherbet....”
“I always find sherbet to be a bit disaapointing,” Ganesh admitted.
“And then little Ganesha asked for more! But Kubera said, Shri Ganesha, there is no more! So then little Ganesha, he started on the tableware: devouring the plates, cups and saucers, the silverware, the tablecloth, the curtains, he even crawled up and the very wall and chomped on the chandelier!”
“Hmpf. That an exaggeration. Kubera's chandelier always looked like that,” insisted Ganesh.
“You ate a lamp?” asked a very scandalized Charles, covering a bewildered Elias' ears.
“I may have possibly gnawed a bit on a light fixture,” allowed Ganesh, pouring himself a bit more merlot. “One of the tackier ones.”
“So Kubera called upon Lord Shiva, and told him, you must stop your son, before he's eaten my house, myself, and my guests!”
“So,” urged Charles. “What did Shiva do?”
“Well, he came out, and he brought a little cup of Auntie's rice pudding, didn't he, Auntie?” asked Ganesh.
“Oh, you've always favored my rice pudding,” cooed Sarasvati.
“And Ganesha ate that all up, and then, and only then, he was satisfied, because unlike everything Kubera had offered that day, it was made with love,” declared Great Brahma.
“It always fills one up,” said Ganesha. “Unless one is a hungry angel, of course.”
“And Shiva said,” Brahma concluded, poking up a big red finger, “he said, there you go, Kubera. Little Ganesha is all finished now. See you next Sunday!”
And at that, Great Brahma, Sarasvati, and Ganesh all doubled over and began laughing uncontrollably.
Charles gazed around at the chortling Hindu pantheon. “Oh. I get it. It was a prank.”
“Father was always such a kidder,” laughed Ganesh.
“That was one of his best!” agreed Brahma. “Speaking of which, Sarasvati, my flower, is that pie cooled now?”
“Oh, yes!” trilled Sarasvati, drying a tear with the corner of her apronn and flouncing into the kitchen.
“Uh,” said Charles.
“Yes?” asked Ganesh.
“Uh, you're not gonna believe me, but, I'm not sure I'm hungry.”
“Oh, really?” smiled Ganesh.
“Blueberry crumble!” announced Sarasvati, who was at that very moment unveiling the freshly baked delicacy right under Charles' nose.
“Well,” said Charles, eyeing Elias, “Maybe just one little piece.”
“Bie!” agreed Elias, who was clapping. So they all ate pie, with a side of ice cream and ceiling fan.
(No, I'm just kidding about the ceiling fan.)
