Tournament - Shaktimaan vs. Woh

[Z451]

Life is complicated, complicated  to live, complicated to die, complicated to advance, and complicated to remain, in all things life is complicated.

(I) The Gathering Storm
    Rain, pouring from the heavens, saturating the ground, liquefying the earth, it is the tears of the innocent lamenting over the loss of Panchgani.  The city, their city, the people, their people, the home, theirs and theirs alone, had been given away, surrendered and abandoned to the wilderness, by those of whom they trusted. It was over, without bloodshed or violence, without chaos, death or destruction, and it had ended because of a Faustian bargain with the wayward soul of one Vikram Thakur. With him, the heroes of this place, had sold the truth off, to pay for a flimsy exchange of vows and honor, an exchange based on nothing but word and deed, and one that lacked anything more.

    Thakur had departed, left behind his old veneer, ended his campaign of destruction, spared Ashutosh Dhar's kid, but only because the village's heroes agreed to appease his demands of them. Demands that would seem unwise to adhere to, for most who would be asked to carry them out, but not to the "Lucky Seven", who while noticeably reserved in their sense of discomfort over them, found them tolerable by comparison  to the possible alternatives allotted to them from the clown, as they just wanted peace after so many years of pain and discord. The lost, however, the one's who Thakur killed over the years, found the idea, the very notion of peace under these circumstances to be a repulsive one, and as they heard it in their ears, their souls screeched out in agony.

    Thakur has stolen from them life's most precious gift, had striped them of their futures, and had forced them into limbo for his amusement, and then, at a moment of desperation, begged them to accept his will, in exchange for their emissaries' consent to his deceitful lie, it was an abominable concept to their minds. But, it was a real one, a true one, and an absolute one in the midst of their dissent, because Dhar and the others agreed, on behalf of the man's son, and were allowed, just as the clown had been, to simply walk away. It was over, the lost had been forgotten, the people had been defeated, and in response the clown had left, but in Panchgani, his evil remained.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(II) A break from routine

    Remained dormant and waiting, remained living deep inside the core of those of whom he had afflicted with his wickedness, remained in their minds, as a memory, a seed, planted in their cortexes, waiting to grow. And today, in aura of the people's lamentations, and in the loss of Panchgani's honor, today he would return from the darkness to prey once again on the village's youth.

    A break, a reprieve, a vacation from the act, from the role he was forced to play, it was all that Gangadhar Shashtri could think of. He loved Geeta, loved her more than the most beautiful of orchids on Earth, and he loved his job at Aaj Ki Awanz, loved the close ups and far away shots, loved the feel of being both an intimate and private photographer for the people, but inside himself he felt off. Something was missing, something he often regretted being missing in his life, as it being missing had forced him to feel distant from it all, his heart.  The organ key to both blood and life, while present in his body, was missing from his soul, as if to suggest that it had been taken away from him, stripped from his hands by something he could not place.

    It was not his fault, not even in the slimmest of projections of what he could be made culpable for, but rather, something had gone array, something had gone amiss along the way, and with it his heart had left his soul behind to wither away and rot under the pressures of life. A scenario, a story, that he had seen in others, but had never even fathomed facing himself, not now, not during the time he spent training with the Suryanshi gurus, and not even when he made the decision to fight against Kilvish in the first place, in none of those times could he see himself facing this kind of lethargy for his daily routine, but yet now, he could still feel that piece missing from him.

    Beyond all else, he desired something else in his life, as he had still committed himself to being Shaktimaan, to destroying the ills of society, to being its doctor, its anti-virus, is champion, but his commitment to his other self, Gangadhar, had waned.
    Why was it necessary at all to even be Gangadhar, when the mission he had required him to be Shaktimaan?  
    What could he possibly accomplish in being a weak softie, when all of the world's problems required strength?
    Both were the questions that he knew all too well, but couldn't answer for himself, because each question and both questions needed something else internally, a greater connection to one's self, to even attempt to pose an answer to. As his train neared Panchgani, Gangadhar couldn't let the questions he faced go, even as the air around him grew tighter, and the sky grew dark, the questions were all that he could think about.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------(III) Face to face

    Stepping off the train at the platform, Gangadhar kept his eyes fixed on the ground, ignoring everything above him, to focus on everything below. The questions were still burning within him, searing his mind, scorching every single thought he had and with them, nothing else mattered. Nothing else, including the state of where he was, that is to say, the state of Panchgani. Panchgani, the hilly train station village, which had been the home of the Lucky Seven and the lair of the clown monster, Woh, had fallen to the evil which it had always been.

    Evil that had pervaded it and corroded its state of being, long before Vikram Thakur had been born, long before Thakur began his campaign of vengeance, long before Thakur had become Woh to the Lucky Seven of the village, and long before Thakur had decided to stop his spree and accept salvation. This evil, the evil that had always been, the evil that would always be, was rooted not in a single man, not in a idea, not a dream or a nightmare, but in the plague, the disease hidden within the minds of those who had come to know and come to expect this evil from the village, it was their knowledge and their expectations of evil from Panchgani that had raised it, groomed it, and prepped it unto the point it had reached now.

    A maelstrom of wickedness had enveloped the village, covering every part of its being, as the evil which had once found its home in Thakur, soon began to spill out everywhere. Scowls, snarls, and raw anger permeated every part of the village, in every person, in every animal, in every being, in all of it the evil had spilt, flooding the village in every part and parcel of what it was, and what it could be and ensuring its twist into what it was and what it was destined to be, the place of the clown's return.

    Glued to the ground, Gangadhar wrestled with his thoughts over and over, trying in vain to gain the upper hand, as the questions threaten to unravel the very idea of his existence, just as the environment around him had changed. Not paying attention to this change, Gangadhar sat down at a chair he spotted during his ruminations, hoping to find a greater sense of peace, as his mind wandered further and further down the path to his true destiny in life. In doing so however, he neglected to see the evil take form once again, as the ground changed from that of a train platform, to that of a carnival big top.

    Seeing the gaudy reds and yellows emanating all around him in the placed and the areas which were once a dull gray and a placid gold, Gangadhar couldn't help but break from his thoughts as all of a sudden the things he knew, even about the physical world had all at once changed. Spurred by the sight, and incapable of doing anything else, Gangadhar began to walk along the once metallic ground of the platform, feeling something dirty, grainy, almost like...sand, as he did. Looking down, Gangadhar saw that it was in fact sand, sand that he had come to know in circuses, places of entertainment and merriment, but it did not belong here. None of it did, not the colors, not the sand, not even him, but he knew that, even before the illusion he knew that, he knew that before he even arrived, he knew and he had always known that, and only now did it dawn on him.

    Continuing to walk and to move towards the edge of the platform, he was, at least not entirely surprised, when it became fabric, raggedy, worn and wind stressed fabric, the fabric of a tent. It was again, something that shouldn't have been there, something that shouldn't have existed at that moment and in that place at all, but yet it was something which did, and which threatened to destroy his already fragile sanity at that point. Gangadhar was no slouch however, and even as the things began to affect him, began to affect his mind and his concentration, he remembered what the gurus had taught him, remembered the balance he held in the seven chakras of the universe, and closed his eyes to experience them. In that moment, he could feel each one, could feel the energy and the true might of the universe, as the illusion began to fade, and his mental state returned to normal after a period of mental cool down.

    With regained composure, Gangadhar moved on and away from the station platform, approaching the staircase going to the ground, only to be stopped by the form of a monstrous clown.
"You are different", the clown remarked bitterly upon looking at Gangadhar's unwavering form.
"Your aura, your form, your very way of life, is foreign to me, and it is also delicious."
Stepping forward, the clown looked eye to eye at Gangadhar, as it whispered, "You will be mine", viciously into his ear. Smirking in response, Gangadhar, simply pushed the clown away, and proceeded down the stairs without any sense of discomfort in seeing him.

This fight, this challenge wasn't his, but in that moment, the clown, the manifestation of Panchgani's evil would not be led away, like a moth to a flame, it had seen him long before he arrived and would follow him well unto he left. Changing the environment again, the clown shifted the stairs, changing the stone steps, the metal railing, and the ground below into something else, something more familiar to the teetering superhero, his old stomping grounds, the temple in the Himalayas. Taken aback at seeing it, and thinking the whole thing to be a test, Gangadhar walked around the temple aimlessly, hoping to find his lost sense of self, hoping that by speaking to the gurus again, he would be restored, but this wasn't that place, and as the yogis appeared around him in the "temple", Gangadhar could think of no other thoughts but resistance to the idea of being manipulated.

    The problem, is that this illusion knew him, knew who he was and what he done, and yet have never met him before or gotten to know him over time, it knew him before he even stepped foot in Panchgani, and with a loud and booming voice it showed itself to know him, as the Mahaguru yelled the one thing that hit Gangadhar greater than anything else "आप किलविशो के पुत्र हैं." (You are the son of Kilvish.)

[Callisto]

Learn More About
Shaktimaan
Read more about Shaktimaan at Wikipedia
Official Site: DD National Links: Wikipedia

Woh
Read more about Woh at Wikipedia
Official Site: Zee TV Links: Wikipedia

[Z451]

The key idea of this match here, is whether or not Shaktimaan can outlast Woh's mental torments, as he wrestles with his identity crisis.

Shaktimaan is similiar to Superman in some ways, however his mental fortitude is probably stronger in some ways due to the nature of his powers coming from yogi/spiritual training, but it can very likely be broken if the right triggers are pushed.

Woh is the Indian version of Stephen King's It, particularly the Tim Curry version, with some differences here and there, but their abilities are pretty much the same for the most part.

These two are from the '97 TV show, Shaktimaan, and the '98 TV show Woh, both of which aired in India, so both characters are more obscure, however the links to Wikipedia and some general searches overall might grant more information about each.

Personally, I hadn't heard of either show until they were first mentioned online, in various placed related to superheroes, and Stephen King's It,  and with that I proceeded to do my research into each and combine them to create this match, as the two felt natural together under the same theme of being '90s based Indian TV shows.

So yeah, I hope you guys enjoy, and I also hope I did well with this in spite of any knowledge gaps that I might have in either character or just certain aspects of Indian culture in general, thanks, Z.

[Pizzaguy2995]

Very interesting write up here Z451, I think you did pretty good writing for characters you didn’t know about until recently. Can’t really say that I know much about these guys either but I do wanna give you some respect for taking the time and effort to make a pretty write up that gives us some glimpses into Indian culture. Your okay in my book!

[DSkillz]

Good to see you back writing again, Z.  You seem to have a pretty good grasp of these characters despite only knowing them mostly by recently researching them. 

As for the match, Woh seems like a good Pennywise expy, but Shaktimaan also seems particularly well-equipped to deal with him. I think Shaktimaan's spirituality should enable him to overcome Woh's taunts.

[Fox]

This read was very difficult for me, personally, as a reader to get through. The writing style did not flow for me; it seems somewhat self-indulgent.

However, I do appreciate the effort that went into this. I also appreciate the use of some characters that people may be unfamiliar with. Great job there.

I've learned to keep my criticism of people's Tournament writing to a bare minimum, but I would recommend reading On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft by Stephen King to anyone interested in writing.

[Z451]

On 8/23/2021 at 2:48 AM, DSkillz said:

Good to see you back writing again, Z.  You seem to have a pretty good grasp of these characters despite only knowing them mostly by recently researching them. 

As for the match, Woh seems like a good Pennywise expy, but Shaktimaan also seems particularly well-equipped to deal with him. I think Shaktimaan's spirituality should enable him to overcome Woh's taunts.

Thanks D, it has been a while hasn't it?

Admittedly, I do wish I knew a bit more or had a bit more of a grasp on the intricacies of the cultural aspects of these characters, as always there will ultimately be a cultural barrier involved in media that emanates from other countries, but still I hope I managed to get around that here.

[Z451]

On 8/23/2021 at 2:41 PM, Fox said:

This read was very difficult for me, personally, as a reader to get through. The writing style did not flow for me; it seems somewhat self-indulgent.

However, I do appreciate the effort that went into this. I also appreciate the use of some characters that people may be unfamiliar with. Great job there.

I've learned to keep my criticism of people's Tournament writing to a bare minimum, but I would recommend reading On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft by Stephen King to anyone interested in writing.

Thank you for your time Fox, I really appreciate the feed back.

 

Looking back on it, I can see what you mean, as I do have some things I need to iron out in my skills.

I'll work on providing more of a controlled flow and direction to my writing, as this story here is admittedly one that may be interesting in concept, but doesn't really flow as well in execution, and these are things I need to consider in my writing, as the craft is a two way street, not a one way street, and I do need to think about my reader's perspective on things as well as my own in that regard.

 

The characters, are something I do take a great effort to really showcase in my work, as I always look for ways to spice up the flow of content on the site and provide spotlight on characters and works that don't really get quite nearly as much attention, in short more obscure characters and characters from other countries for example. So I do really appreciate your acknowledgement on that end as well, as in not so many ways, it was something I was aiming for as well.

 

All in all, I do thank you for your time in reading, and your acknowledgement of my efforts to use the more obscure characters, and I will certainly work on smoothing out, proofreading, and prepping my work a bit more before I submit it, as I do see what you mean in terms of it losing its flow and being a bit self-indulgent at times, and in that I can safely say practice makes perfect heh.

 

 

[Callisto]

Match Final Results

Member Ratings:
4.10 - Fox
4.60 - DSkillz
4.00 - patrickthekid

FPA Calculation:
3 Total Votes cast
12.70 Total Combined Score
12.70 / 3 = 4.23 Final Rating on the match

MATCH SCORE
Shaktimaan: 3
Woh: 2

[Fox]

@patrickthekid participated in this months tournament, so their ratings cannot affect the Tournament score.  That's in the rules - you can't rate your competition.

 

Member Ratings:
4.10 - Fox
4.60 - DSkillz
 

FPA Calculation:
2 Total Votes cast
8.70 Total Combined Score
8.70 / 2 = 4.35 Final Rating on the match