Folktales from Bengal

by Soham Saha

  Surprised and angry, the cat bared her teeth and jumped up the plant. But she could not catch Tuntuni, and nor could she touch one of her chicks. All she got for her greediness were the pricks of the eggplant thorns.

  The Sparrow and the Crow

  Everyone has heard the story of the rabbit and the tortoise. But what about the story of the sparrow and the crow? They too had a wager, and one of them cheated the other. Or tried to, at least.

  The sparrow and the crow were the best of friends. But for some reason, everyone hated the crow but loved the sparrow. This bothered the crow very much, and he made a plan to get rid of the sparrow.

  The farmer had spread out a mat on his front yard and left some chilli and some rice to dry in the sun. And the crow said to the sparrow, “let’s see if you can finish the rice first, or me the chilli.t

  “I am sure I can finish off the rice first.”

  “Then let’s have a wager. The winner eats the loser’s heart,” said the crow.

  “Fine,” said the sparrow.

  So they started. The crow crunched down one chilli after the other, and the sparrow pecked the rice grains. After a while, the crow was done with the chilli, but the sparrow wasn’t even half finished.

  “I got you now, sparrow,” said the crow, “Now come so I can eat your heart.”

  “Fine then,” said the sparrow. “But friend, please go wash your beak before you eat my heart. You eat a lot of dirty stuff.”

  The crow flew to the Ganges to wash his beak.

  Ganges, the river, was appalled at the sight of the crow and said, “Don’t touch me with your dirty beak. Bring a cup, if you must wash up.”

  “Fine,” said the crow, and flew to the potter.

  “Potter, oh potter, no time to sup,

  Whip up some clay and make me a cup.

  So I’ll get some water, from the creek.

  I’ll wash my beak, look real smart,

  And then I’ll have the sparrow’s heart.”

  The potter said, “Bring me some earth. I’ll make you a cup.”

  The crow went to the bull to borrow his horns to dig up earth. He said,

  “Bull, oh bull, give me your horns,

  I’ll dig up earth, and make a pot,

  Take some water, wash my beak,

  And then I’ll have the sparrow’s heart.”

  The bull was very angry at this, and came charging to poke the crow.

  The crow flew away, and went to the dog.

  “Dog, dear dog, oh so strong,

  Kill the bull. I need its prongs.

  I’ll use his horns to dig up earth,

  The potter will make a cup in his hearth.

  I’ll get some water from the creek,

  Which I’ll use to wash my beak.

  I’ll get the sparrow, he thinks he’s so smart,

  Then I’ll kill him and eat his heart.”

  The dog nodded and said. “Fine, give me some milk from the cow, and I’ll be strong. Then I’ll kill the bull.”

  So he went to the cow and said,

  “Cow, oh cow, give me milk,

  Which I’ll give the dog to drink.

  He’ll kill the bull that’s chewing cud,

  I’ll use his horns to dig up mud,

  I’ll make a cup from the potter,

  Which then I will fill with water,

  From the creek, I’ll wash my beak.

  I’ll get the sparrow; it thinks it’s smart,

  But I’ll kill it anyways and eat its heart.”

  The cow nodded at him, and said, “Bring me some grass, and I’ll give you milk.”

  So he went to the field and sang to it,

  “Field give me grass, as soft as silk,

  The cow needs it to make good milk.

  The dog will drink it and get real strong,

  He’ll kill the bull to get his prong.

  I’ll use the horn to dig up earth,

  The potter will make a cup in his hearth,

  I’ll take some water from the creek,

  I’ll use the water to wash my beak,

  I’ll get the sparrow, it thinks it’s smart,

  But I’ll kill it anyways and eat its heart.”

  The field said, “Bring a sickle, and take all the grass you need.”

  So the crow went to the smith and said,

  “Smith oh smith, I’m in a pickle,

  Please oh please just give me a sickle,

  To cut some grass as soft as silk,

  The cow needs it to make good milk.

  The dog will drink it and get real strong,

  He’ll kill the bull to get his prong.

  I’ll use the horn to dig up earth,

  The potter will make a cup in his hearth,

  I’ll take some water from the creek,

  I’ll use the water to wash my beak,

  I’ll get the sparrow; it thinks it’s smart,

  But I’ll kill it anyways and eat its heart.”

  The smith said, “Bring me fire, and I’ll make you a sickle.”

  The crow was desperate now, and worst of all, it was running out of rhymes. But it had come too far ahead to back out.

  He went to the village idiot, and said,

  “Idiot, oh, idiot, give me fire,

  No more chores, I’m not for hire,

  I can’t rhyme again, I just can’t start,

  I just want to eat the sparrow’s heart.”

  The idiot immediately brought a pot full of fire, and asked the crow, “Where should I keep the fire?”

  Exasperated, the crow spread its wings and shouted out, “I don’t know, just pour it on my wings.”

  The idiot did just as it was told, and the foolish crow burnt to death on the spot.

  He never got to eat the sparrow’s heart.

  The Sparrow, his Wife, and the Tiger

  A pot was hung high up at a corner of a farmer’s house. A sparrow lived there with his wife.

  One day, the sparrow said, “Wife, I want to have cake.”

  The wife replied, “Okay, bring me the ingredients.”

  “What do you need to make cake?”

  “I’ll need flour. Then there’s sugar, molasses, oil, milk, jackfruit and bananas. And I’ll need wood to make fire, and a pot to cook.”

  The sparrow said, “I’ll bring all that.” And he flew to the forest and started gathering dry twigs and branches.

  A large tiger lived in the forest. He had no hope of catching the sparrows, and even if he did, they were hardly a mouthful, so he had made friends with them. He heard the crackling of the branches and came over.

  “Breaking twigs today, are we, my little friend?”

  “I don’t know about you, but I am getting fire wood.”

  “What is that for?”

  “The wife is making cakes.”

  “Cake? Mmm. I haven’t had cake in a long while. I want some too.”

  “Well, then bring me the ingredients.”

  “What do you need?”

  “I need flour, sugar, ghee, bananas, jackfruit, milk, and molasses. Oh yeah, and a pot to cook the cake in.”

  “That’s all? Go home now, little sparrow. I will bring everything in.” So the sparrow went back home with the wood, and the tiger went to the market. There, he cleared his throat, and gave a mighty roar. And the shopkeepers yelled, “Mommy!” and ran hither and thither. The tiger relaxed, went about picking up the ghee and the flour and the bananas and the jackfruits and the milk and the molasses and the sugar, and dropped them off at the sparrow’s home.

  The sparrow’s wife made some delicious cake, and she and the sparrow ate till they were full. Then they realized that the tiger was about to come, and there weren’t any cake left. The wife made a few more cakes with the leftover ingredients, and a lot more with coal and husks and mud. Then she left the lot on a plate in the front yard.

  The tiger came over and was delighted to see the plate of cakes. He put the first one into his mouth, and said, “Excell
ent. Delicious. Marvellous. What a good cake this is!”

  Then he put the second one into his mouth. “Uff. This is not that good.”

  Then the next one. “Ugh. This is bad. It’s just made with flour.”

  The next one. “This just has husk and ashes. Hey sparrow, what are you feeding me, my friend?”

  Meanwhile, the sparrow covered his nose and mouth, and said, “Wife, I have to sneeze.”

  “Shh. You can’t sneeze. He’ll hear you.”

  The sparrow cringed and covered his nose and mouth. The wife tried to stop him, but it was impossible.

  The tiger put the last one in, “What’s this? Cowdung? What a jerk the sparrow is! When I see him next time I am going to chew him up.”

  “Huh-chooo!” The sparrow sneezed, and the rope the pot was hanging on, broke. The tiger jumped up, and the pot landed on his back in a loud crash, shattering to many pieces.

  The tiger did not know whether the sky fell on his back, or whether he was struck by lightning, but he did not wait to find out. He ran and ran, with his tail between his legs, and did not stop till he reached his cave.

  The Little Goat, the Lion and the Fox

  Not nearby, but not too far away, where the endless grassland ends in a deep forest, and the forest covers the base of a mountain, and the mountain touches the sky, there lived a family of goats: mom, dad, and the kid.

  The mountain had a lot of caverns, and the family had chosen one of them as a shelter. All day long the mother goat and the father goat went to graze in the meadow, leaving the kid in the safety of the cave, because it was too little to wander about alone. But it did not like to be confined in the cave. It wanted to see the world outside, the world he only heard stories of. But every time he asked his mom, she warned him, “The outside is a dangerous place. If you go out there, bears will chase you, the tigers will catch you, and the lions will eat you, because you are so tiny.”

  “So will I never get out?” he asked.

  “Yes you will, but when you are a lot bigger.”

  So he lay still in his cave, afraid of the outside, and let a few days pass by. A few weeks later, when he decided he was a bit bigger, he began to peek outside whenever his mother was not home. And one day, he mustered enough courage to get out of the cave.

  Outside, a large bull was munching on some grass. The kid had never seen such a large animal before, but seeing its horns, he thought it was a goat, too. He wondered what the goat ate to grow this big, so he asked him.

  “What are you eating?”

  “Grass.”

  “I eat grass too, but I’m not that big,” he wondered.

  “Where does the grass grow?” he asked the bull.

  “In the meadow by the forest, over there,” came the reply.

  “Can you take me with you?”

  “Sure.” The bull got up and walked to the forest, and the kid followed him.

  The meadow indeed had a lot of sweet grass growing there, and the kid ate till he could eat no more. In fact, he was so full he could not move. When dusk came, the bull said, “Let’s go home now, Kid.”

  But the kid was too full and too tired to go home. So he said, “You go home. I’ll rest here and go back tomorrow.”

  The bull went back alone. Since it was nearing dusk, the kid wondered about until he found a small cave at the base of a hillock, and went inside.

  The cave belonged to a fox. However, that day, the fox had gone to attend a feast at the home of his uncle – the tiger. When he came back it was late at night. When he peeked into his cave, he saw something sitting way inside, but he could not make it out in the darkness, thanks to the pitch black coat the kid had. Seeing it moving inside at ease, the fox thought it must be some kind of monster. Terrified of the response, he craned into the cave and asked, “Who’s there inside my cave?”

  The kid knew he was in trouble now, and was scared. But his mother had taught him to be clever, and so, he said in a loud voice,

  “Snakes get tangled in my mile long beard,

  Beasts call me many names, a few you might have heard.

  Lions call me uncle, I am Narahari Das

  Fifty tigers I kill in a single slash.”

  The fox could not fathom how a mile long beard, let alone its owner, could fit into his little cave. But somehow, it had, and it was strong enough to kill not one, not two, but fifty full tigers in a single slash. Come to think of it, the fox remembered, didn’t his mother tell him stories of Narahari Das? Or something like that? But the one in his cave was terrifying enough, and it did say it had a lot of other names. The fox ran back, his tail between his legs, to the tiger he called uncle.

  The tiger was surprised to see him back so soon. “Didn’t you have enough to eat at the feast? I’m sorry, but there’s no leftover.” He was busy tidying up. ”And why do you look so ruffled?”

  “This is terrible, uncle,” the fox panted. “There’s a terrible monster in my cave. It calls itself Narahari Das. It says it can slay fifty tigers in a single slash.”

  The tiger was furious hearing this. “The audacity! Fifty tigers he can kill, can he? Let’s go and see if he can match my strength.” He roared out loud, and then paused and asked. “What does he look like?”

  “It’s huge and ugly. With a mile long beard, and snakes tangled between the curls.” The fox shivered as he recalled the poem. Of course, he did not mention he had not actually seen the monster.

  “A mile long beard, eh?” The enthusiasm was now dying in the tiger’s voice. “The name does sound familiar, though. Narahari Das.” He scratched his head. “Never mind. I’ll go have a look at him.” From far at first, he thought.

  The fox whimpered. “I am not going back in there. What if it gives chase? You are going to scamper in the blink of an eye, and I will be left to be monster fodder.”

  “Come on, nephew. I will never leave you.” The tiger replied, afraid to go alone.

  “Fine, then tie up your tail with mine, so that you don’t leave me when it comes chasing.”

  The tiger tied the fox’s tail with his own in a tight knot, and the fox reluctantly followed him, assured that he will not leave him when the monster chased them.

  As they drew closer to the cave, the kid saw them, and shouted out, his voice echoed and magnified by the cave,

  “You stupid, lying fox! I tell you to bring ten tigers for my snack, and you bring but one?”

  The tiger’s heart stopped in fear, listening to the words. The fox has tricked me into coming here, he thought. He’s in league with the monster.

  And he ran for his life, leaping fifty yards at a time. The fox, tied to his tail, got smashed on the ground, prickled by thorn bushes, and bashed in the trees in the tigers wake. The more he yelled “Stop!” the faster the tiger ran. And that was how the night passed by.

  In the morning, the kid returned home, and had it got a story to tell its mom and dad.

  The Fox and the Tiger’s Boat

  After the ordeal with Narahari Dash, the fox was very angry with the tiger. It took him days to find a new cave, and it was not as spacious or hidden as the last one. But it had a well nearby. And that gave the fox an idea.

  A couple of weavers lived at the forest’s edge. They had weaved a mat and left it in the sun to dry. The fox stole the mat and spread it over the well, covering it up. Then he went to the tiger.

  “Uncle Tiger,” he said, “I got a new home. Won’t you come and have a look around?”

  The tiger followed him to the cave. The fox pointed him to the well, which was nicely covered with the mat, and said, “Why don’t you sit on the table I made for you, uncle, and I will arrange for some drinks.”

  The tiger was very pleased to hear this, and he jumped upon the mat. The mat collapsed, and he fell immediately into the well. The fox craned his neck to see him, and said, “Drink up all you want, uncle. Don’t leave anything for me.”

  But the well was not very deep, and so, the tiger jumped out and roared at the fox. “
I am going to eat you alive for this!” But the fox was too swift for him, and he scrambled himself into the thickets, so the tiger could not find him.