Excerpt for Stories for Children by Ratan Lal Basu, available in its entirety at Smashwords

Stories for Children


A Collection of Children’s Stories by


Ratan Lal Basu


Copyright 2011 Ratan Lal Basu


Smashwords Edition


Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Contents


The Funny Leopardess

The Kurukhs and the Turks

Tragedy of the Hunter

The Giant Mango Tree

The Author



The Funny Leopardess


Oh children of humans I’ll today tell you the story of a funny leopardess that used to reside on my bushy branches. These large cats you know live in deep forests and at times invade the human habitations to hunt cattle and even children. But this time a leopardess settled at a bushy ditch close to my trunk to protect her cubs from their father who if found alone would kill and eat the small cubs. This is the custom of the cats. There are also other ferocious beasts around and therefore the leopardess always kept close to the cubs, breast-fed them and lived on small animals, rabbits, rats, birds that could be found close by. She became very weak and famished at first. The eyes of the beautiful cubs opened in a few days and now they could move out and play, but their mother always kept strict watch so that they could not go to the jungles and endanger their lives. Soon they learnt to climb trees and now their mother could go out for hunting and kill deer and other larger animals for the family. It was exhilarating to watch the games and mock fights of the cubs. They liked to play hide and seek on my branches. People of the locality do not kill or harass mother beasts and so they abandoned the road alongside me and took another road for going to places lest the leopardess attack apprehending they would do harm to the cubs. Some, however, were intrepid enough to offer goat flesh to the mother and the cubs and they watched, with amazement, the leopardess and the tiny ones devouring the flesh.

After some time the mother left with the cubs into the deep forest. None of them except the smart one who was a deft climber returned again. The naughty one was a female and she liked to swing from and sleep on my branches at night and I enjoyed the hug of her pulpy body. She soon grew into a full fledged leopardess and still she never liked to trespass into the villages and human habitations. She used to come to me at night, played for a long time and then slept on a broad branch. She climbed the highest branch in moonlit nights and watched the views around. She hunted rabbits, rats and birds in the bushes and trees around. Sometimes she harassed the small animals by chasing them simply for fun and letting them go when they were panic stricken and exhausted and thereafter she laughed loudly. I once admonished her, “why do you harass the poor animals for nothing?” She replied, “it’s an interesting game.” She, however, learnt a lesson very soon and it was very funny.

It was a moonlit night and a wild boar entered the land losing its way and started moving hither and thither to find the way out. The leopardess, who was then swinging in a lowly branch, noticed the boar and jumped down and started laughing and chasing the panicked animal. Noticing the large leopard after it the poor animal got more confused and started running aimlessly and after some time its back got stuck on a closely knit cluster of trees. Our heroin started closing in with a majestic style, frightening the boar with clenched teeth and grave roars and the latter having no way out unleashed its spear-like sharp fangs and started running toward its adversary in a last bid to save its life. In a moment our bullying heroin turned back and hastened to climb up my branches. I was amazed to feel the flutter of her terrified heart and started laughing aloud. She said angrily, “why are you laughing like a fool?” I retorted smiling, “you always rejoice frightening weaker animals and now you have a good lesson being frightened by a smaller and weaker animal.” She protested, “not at all, my running and climbing is just a part of the funny game.”

“May be.” I laughed aloud again.

She got angry and started scratching my barks with her nails, tearing off leaves and breaking off small twigs. For the rest of the night she did not return. But the next evening she came again and said politely, “sorry for my rude behavior.”

One night she disclosed to me her plan that she would steal a calf from the cowshed of a villager. I cautioned her, “don’t do this; it may lead you to trouble.”

“No trouble at all; the wattle walls of the shed are brittle and at night when nobody is around I can easily steal the calf and I hope the soft flesh would be excellent.”

“No, you should not do this; don’t incur the enmity of the humans, they are dangerous. If you are on their right side they are the most benevolent friends but if on the wrong side, they are the cruelest enemies.”

She laughed out loud, “dangerous! They are the weakest animals.”

“Weakest physically indeed, but they have heads which none else have. They have poison arrows and I’ve seen a new weapon, the fire-club that emits fire with a thud and can kill even an elephant.”

She didn’t believe me and stole the calf and devoured it. Then men from all the villages came out with clubs, spears and bows and were frantically looking for the cat who, sensing trouble, had already fled to the deep jungle. Then came a white man with the fire-club and planned to wait on my branches at night to kill her. Fortunately the stage for the hunter could not be prepared that night and when the cat came to sleep I told her the situation. She had already been terrified to see the prowess of the weakly humans and fled into the deep forest and never came back.


The Kurukhs and the Turks


Kurukh is a tribal residing in various parts of India and known under various names like, Oraons, Madeshias, Dhangars etc. Their mythical ancestral land was Rohtasgarh fort from where they were driven out by the Turks. The tribal folklore of the war between the Turks and the Kurukh women is very interesting.

The Rohtasgarh fort where the Kurukhs lived since time immemorial was defended by the most invincible fort and according to folklore. It was founded by Rohtas, the son of Harishchandra of Hindu mythology. The Turks came from a distant land Turkistan and invaded India and the Sultans captured Delhi and established their kingdom in India. Now they wanted to expand their kingdom by subjugating the independent states. They realized that in eastern India, capturing Rohtasgarh would give them tremendous strategic advantage. So they rushed with their force to capture the fort but observing the invincible fort and prowess of the Kurukh warriors they fled. Then the spies of the Sultan found a Kurukh whore at Delhi and promised to pay her a lucrative amount if she could inform the Turks about the weaknesses of the Kurukhs at Rohtasgarh. The whore informed them that during the Sahrul and Karam festivals all the Kurukh males get drunk with haria, the rice fermented drink. Karam is held during the rains and disadvantageous to attack at that time. So they decided to invade the fort at the time of Sahrul in spring.

The Sahrul festival is a flower festival and it is held in spring as then the saal trees are adorned with blossoms. The festival begins with the puza of the village deity who, the tribal people believe, protects them from all hazards and brings prosperity to them. The puza is performed by the Pahan, the priest of the Kurukhs. In the evening before the worship of the gods the Pahan fills three new earthen pots with water. Next dawn, the Pahan bathes, puts on new clothes (kacchha dhaga) and examines the water levels of the earthen pots. If the water levels remain unchanged, it’s a sign of good rains and prosperity. On the other hand, decrease in water levels portends hazards like drought and famine.

After checking up the water of the pots, the Pahan gets ready for the puza and his wife washes his feet and seeks his blessings. Then the Pahan along with the devotees proceed for the sarna or jaher.’

This is the saal tree in which the supreme invisible god (Singbonga of the Santhals or Dharmesh of the Kurukhs) resides according to tribal faith. There is an interesting folklore about the discovery of the jaher deep inside the forest by the tribal people.

Some tribal people, while resting under a tree in course of hunting in deep forest, started discussing about the abode of their creator, the Supreme God. But they could not come to a conclusion and eventually decided that they would send an arrow high up in the sky and abode of their creator must be at the place where the arrow drops. They sent the arrow in the sky and it traveled down on a saal tree inside the forest and since then the saal tree became the place of their worship of the Supreme God.

After reaching the jaher with the villagers, the Pahan offers three chickens of different colors – the first one for the Supreme God, the second one for the village deities and the third for their ancestors.

While the Pahan performs the puza rituals at the jaher, the villagers start singing accompanied by various percussion instruments like tumdak, madal, dhol, kartal etc. Then some males lift the Pahan on their shoulders and proceed towards his house while other villagers follow them singing and dancing. As soon as the procession reaches the door of the Pahan’s house his wife welcomes them and receives her husband by washing his feet. The Pahan then offers saal flowers to his wife and all the villagers as tokens of love brotherhood and friendship. This is followed by the ‘fool-khonsi’ ritual in which the Pahan adorns every tribal house with saal flower.

After the rituals haria-prasad is distributed and the villagers drink, sing and dance for weeks to celebrate the festival gorgeously. However, in earlier times the female Kurukhs refrained from drinking while all the males used to become tipsy with haria.’

The whore gave the Turks every detail of the festival and assured them that in course of the festivities all the male Kurukhs would remain completely soused and incapable of resisting the invaders and they need not attach much importance to the weaker sex. So the Turks planned to attack the fort during the Sahrul festival and capture it while the male Kurukhs, being drunk, would be incapable of fighting.

During the next Sahrul, all the Kurukh men were dead drunk at midnight and the women were ready to go to bed after their children had slept. All of a sudden they were startled by noise coming from outside the fort gate. A leader of the women called a young girl, expert at climbing trees, to inspect what was going on outside the fort gate. The girl climbed at the top of a tall tree and was bewildered to notice a large number of Turk soldiers approaching the gate of the fort. She immediately rushed back and alerted the leader who right away blew her conch shell and the young girl started beating a drum. This was the signal for the women to assemble near the house of the leader. Those who heard the sounds started making similar signal and soon all the women congregated outside the house of the leader. The leader told them about the impending danger and ordered them to get prepared to fight the enemies in soldier’s uniforms with weapons. The women left and started getting ready according to the directions of the leader.

In the mean time the Turk soldiers were trying to break open the gate of the fort. The passage leading to the gate was narrow and hilly and so only a few soldiers could approach it at a time. Some women soldier’s rode the tall turrets and through the holes started shooting arrows at the Turk soldiers trying to approach the gate and they were immediately killed being hit by the arrows soaked with snake poison. Then the Turks started backing out and women Kurukhs getting out of the fort through the secret openings started chasing and killing them mercilessly and ultimately all the defeated Turuks were compelled to give up the hope of capturing the fort.

The same incidents were repeated twelve times. Then the Sultan consulted the Kurukh whore again and the woman informed him that the Kurukh women too get drunk during the Karam festival. The time was not, however, suitable for the attack because after the rains the fields become muddy and difficult to move across; but this time only the fort could be captured without any resistance from the Kurukhs. The Turk soldiers were trained to fight in the muddy land during the rains and planned to attack this time during the Karam festival.

Karam is a festival held during the month of autumn on the eleventh day of the phases of moon in the Bengali month of Bhadra (at the beginning of September) to worship the Karam god. The flowers, fruits and wood required for the worship are collected by young men from the forest. They enter the forest in groups accompanied by drum beats, songs and dances. During the festival the households plant in front of their houses karam trees which are symbols of good fortune. After the worship the entire locality becomes festive with dances and singing accompanied by loud percussions. During the Karam festival the young girls celebrate Jawa festival expecting good fertility and prosperity. They offer germinating seeds (symbol of fertility) in a pot and water melons (symbol of son). Both males and females take haria and get tipsy during the festival.

So when the Turks attacked for the thirteenth time during the Karam festival the drunken men and women could not resist them and they fled through the secret outlets and the Turuks could capture the fort without any resistance from the Kurukhs. Thereafter my ancestors traversed various lands and ultimately arrived at the land of the Santhals and Mundas both of whom accepted the Kurukhs gladly and in a friendly way.


Tragedy of the Hunter


A notorious leopard was invading a village close to the forest at night and killing cattle. It was very intelligent and smart and the villagers with all their best efforts could not do anything and as the village was very close to the forest their night watches failed. Then a hunter from Siliguri was invited to kill the leopard. He was tall and muscular and his intrepid and swell gaits assured the villagers who now were confident the leopard menace would be over in a few days. The man was an expert shoot and had hunted many ferocious animals. So it was a very simple task for him to kill the leopard. But the god of fate had something else in mind. In fact we humans are helpless and at the mercy of he hands of the unknown, Dhanesh thought.

Two platforms with timber were prepared high up on two adjacent tall trees at the fringe of the forest. The larger one was for the hunter and the smaller one for his attendant who would focus a powerful torch into the eyes of the animal whenever it came near the bait at the bottom of the hunter’s tree. Strong lights make animals befuddled and motionless. A small goat was tied as the bait to the trunk of a tree clearly within the range of the rifle of the hunter. The leopard came at night without guessing that it was trapped. As soon as the leopard took hold of the goat with his teeth, the servant focused the torch into its eyes and it got transfixed. The hunter then made the gun ready, but his gun did not work after several trials. Then he got impatient and in anger threw down the gun and the shot was fired as soon as the gun touched the ground and the torch fell down from the hand of the servant. The leopard at first ran toward the deep forest but came back soon, climbed the tree and killed the helpless hunter. The attendant climbed down after the leopard had left with the body of the hunter and alerted all the villagers who came out with whatever weapon they got close at hand. A large group of villagers invaded the forest with kerosene torches, clubs and choppers. Being chased by the mob, the leopard left leaving behind the half eaten corpse of the hunter.


The Giant Mango Tree


The giant mango tree stood majestically, towering above the bushes, thickets and other trees in the marshy land that spread undulating between the Rosemary tea garden and the Baikunthapur forest. At noon the shadow of the tree like an enormous umbrella sheltered from the sweltering sun the thickets and bushes of akchhatti, dheki-fern, kukurshoka, datura and host of other herbs and wild plants. The burrows and ground holes sheltered variegated rodents, venomous vipers, mongooses, ichneumons, jackals, wild rabbits, foxes, porcupines, jungle cats, leopard cats and civets.

In winter the swamp glistened with multi-colored flowers embellishing the trees and creepers, and the orchids dangling merrily from the branches of the trees; the air was suffused with the fragrance of flowers and the ambience encompassing the land reverberated with chatters, squawks, clucks and screeches of migratory birds – black-naked cranes, teals, francolins, goosanders, partridges, ibis bills, fork-tails, wag-tails, red-stars, pelicans and innumerable small birds.

In summer, the marsh went alive with buzzing of fleas and insects, melodious songs of cuckoos, parakeets, popinjays; ear splitting caws of crows and shrill squawks of peacocks. While the large ripe mangoes hurtled down from the lofty branches, children, women and men from the tea garden and nearby villages jostled and hollered to collect the mangoes battering down the bushes at the bottom of the tree.

During the rains water stagnated in ditches; fishes swam merrily in the crystal water, golden-frogs played their monotonous love-songs; the cormorants and herons got busy with fishing and at night the water lilies greeted the moon that shone merrily in the clear sky or peeped through the slits of the clouds like a newly wed bashful bride.

In the deep forest to the north and north-west lived elephants, Bengal tigers, leopards, wild buffaloes, gaurs (Indian bison), dholes (wild dogs), monkeys, wild boars, antelopes, barking deer, musk deer, chital, king cobras and pythons. The wild animals except the elephants and monkeys lived in deep forest and rarely invaded the marsh, the tea garden or the villages.

Before the onset of monsoons at times, stormy winds lashed the glade mercilessly uprooting many trees but the giant tree fought off the demon heroically swaying its bushy head like a vast mace and not a single branch could be broken off by the cyclonic winds.

The monarch stood defiantly dwarfing all the trees around and could be visible from the nearest railway station at a distance of two miles. The giant tree was there from ages and from whence no body could tell. The oldest man, the nonagenarian Palisanju Roy had seen the tree the same during his childhood and the tea garden records mention the tree at the time of buying the land that included this marsh.

It was a strange tree, a rare and endangered species – the mangoes were large, round and ruddy around the stalk while ripe and the fragrance was enchanting. The local people – Rajbonshis of the villages around and the madeshia laborers of the tea gardens – had never seen such a mango tree elsewhere and it was mysterious to them how a mango tree was grown amidst the wild plants.

The mystery shrouding the colossal tree inspired local people to invent fantasy stories and myths and the local people held the mango tree sacred being planted by deities. Expert tree-climbers could climb the vast tree easily and pluck ripe mangoes, but they dared not incur displeasure of the deities by such inadvertence and therefore, everybody had to remain satisfied with the ripe mangoes offered to them by the tree itself. The marsh, rich in floral and faunal resources, contributed to the living of local people by providing firewood, pot-vegetables, herbs, fruits and small games. It had also become a part and parcel of the lives and culture of them in various ways and got inexorably associated with pleasures and pains of them.

Boys and girls of the locality used to collect offspring of birds like mainas, cuckoos, doves, shaliks, parrots and parakeets from the nests and bird-holes in the trees. Monkeys at times feasted on the ripe fruits of the trees and naughty urchins derived great fun from riling the monkeys by throwing blobs of earth and snippets of twigs at them and the enraged monkeys used to return back the stuffs and chase the boys unleashing menacing clenched teeth.

The dusty road, that separated the tea shrubs from the marsh, branched out into the small villages of the Rajbonshi peasants and paddy fields and winded through the forest toward Siliguri town. At the corner of the road close to the marsh were small temples, made by bamboo wattles and roofed with tin or straw, of various gods, goddesses and grotesque apparitions. The Ganesh temple was the largest and was roofed by corrugated tin on wooden structure. Local people used to keep large flat vessels of burnt earth full of haria in front of the temple. The liquor was an offering to the elephant-god Ganesh but virtually it was guzzled by the elephants which happened to cross over from the forests. It was a treat to watch the tipsy mastodons wobbling along after drinking the rice fermented liquor. It was not known who had first initiated this custom but everybody agreed that this was an act of myopic vision. These elephants, residing at the fringe of the forest, got addicted to haria in course of time and at times invaded the villages in quest of the liquor damaging houses and killing people.

###


The Author



The author of these short stories is a Ph.D. in economics and professionally an economist but his passion for literature occasionally robs him out of the dry arena of economics to the world of love romance and adventure. From his very childhood his favorite hobbies included swimming in turbulent rivers during the rains, small game hunting, boxing, hill trekking and adventure in wild animal infested deep forests. Later on he gave up hunting and boxing considering them to be cruel sports. In course of his hill treks he came in contact with various hill tribes and he could feel the heart bits of these honest and simple people, especially the charming girls. Many of his romantic short stories are based on these hill people and the hilly charm amidst which they are born and brought up. Dr. Basu may be contacted at rlbasu@rediffmail.com.

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