May 29. Story of the Day: The Louse and the Rat

This story comes from "Folklore in Salsette by George F. D'Penha" in the Indian Antiquary, November 1898 (online at Hathi; I have transcribed only the English here).

This story is best classified as ATU 2023. Little Ant Marries.

Salsette (Salsete) is the island where the city of Mumbai is located. Find out more at Wikipedia.

I hope that people can help me with the food reference in the story: attolam, or áṭṭolaṁ as the author transliterates it. Is there another, more common name for this food that sounds like "attolam" somehow? None of the names for kheer, payasam, etc. seem to sound right, although the author describes it as a gruel made out of "new rice" and jaggery, flavored with cardamon, which sure sounds like kheer. Then he remarks, "Almost every Bombay East Indian family makes attolam on All Souls' Day." The reference to All Souls' Day made me think he might be referring to the Parsi holiday of Frawardigan, but that is just a guess; he might also be referring to Pitru Paksha. Any suggestions?

Want more? Click here for previous Stories-of-the-Day.



THE LOUSE AND THE RAT

A louse was once going to seek, as she said, a bellyful of food and clothes to cover her body.

As she was trudging on slowly she was met by a dog, who said, "Sister louse, sister louse, where are you going?"

The louse answered, "I am going where I can get a bellyful of food and clothes to cover my body."

Upon this the dog said, "Come with me."

But the louse said, "Who will come with you? Should anyone beat you, you will cry "bow bow wow wow" and run away; where shall I go to then?"

So saying the louse resumed her slow walk, and as she walked and walked and walked, she came across a cat who said to her, "Sister louse, sister louse, where are you going?"


And the louse answered, "I am going where I can get a bellyful of food and clothes to cover my body."

Hearing this the cat said, "Come with me."

Whereupon the louse replied, "Who will come with you? Should anyone beat you, you will cry "mew mew" and run away, where shall I go to then?"

Having thus spoken she went her way, and again she walked and walked and walked. On her way she met many animals who all asked her where she was going, and who, on being told of her errand, asked her to go with them, but she refused every offer.

At last, as she was still walking and walking, she came upon a rat, who asked her, "Sister louse, sister louse, where are you going?"

The louse answered, "I am going where I can get a bellyful of food and clothes to cover my body."

The rat hearing this said, "Come with me."

Now the louse knew that a rat must be living comfortably, with plenty of food to eat and clothes to wear. So she accepted the rat's offer and went into a hole in which the rat dwelt. There, as she had anticipated, the louse found plenty of all things — food as well as clothes — and lived happily for some time.

One day the louse said she would make attolam if the rat would fetch some rice and spices and jaggery. The rat went about and soon brought what was necessary from shops and elsewhere, and handed it to the louse, who set about making the attolam.

As the attolam was cooking, the rat smelt a fine savour, which made him restless as to when it would be ready, so that he might eat it. The louse, who observed the restlessness of the rat, and knew well the greedy propensities of that animal, warned him not to peep into the pot, as he might possibly fall inside.

Having thus warned the rat, the louse went to fetch water.

As the attolam became more and more savoury in the course of the cooking, the rat became more and more restless, so restless that he could restrain himself no longer, and, disregarding the warning of the louse, got up on the oven to have a look at the attolam, but down he fell in the pot and died.

When the louse returned with water she missed the rat, and easily guessed that he had not heeded to her warning: and right enough, on looking, she found him dead in the pot in which the attolam was being cooked.

But what was to be done now? She threw away the attolam, dug a hole near a hedge, and buried the rat.

In digging the hole, some of the roots of the trees that formed the hedge were cut up, and consequently the trees became somewhat shaky.

Now it happened that a bagla (a crane) was in the habit of every day coming and taking his stand on one of the trees. For many a day the crane had found the tree steady, and was, therefore, surprised when it shook as he alighted on it, and thought to himself, "Yesterday when I sat upon this tree it did not shake, but today as I sat down it shook." So he asked the tree for the reason of it.

The tree replied, "Uncle rat died and was buried at the side of the hedge, so the hedge became rootless, and the crane became featherless."

Upon hearing this, "gal gal gal gal" the crane dropped all his feathers and flew away and alighted upon a banyan tree.

The banyan tree which had often seen the crane before with his feathers on, now began to wonder at seeing him featherless, and began to think within itself, "Yesterday when this crane came he had feathers; today he has come, but he has no feathers" — and the tree asked the crane for the reason of it.

Said the crane, "Uncle rat died and was buried at the side of the hedge, so the hedge became rootless, the crane became featherless, and the banyan tree became leafless." Upon this "khal khal khal khal" fell off all the leaves of the banyan tree.

Now a horse, that was in the habit of grazing in that part of the forest, often took protection from the rays of the sun under that tree, and was quite surprised to see the tree leafless. The horse began to think over the matter, and thought within itself, "Yesterday when I came I saw that the tree had leaves; today when I came I see that there are no leaves upon it." So he asked the tree for the reason of it.

The tree replied, "Uncle rat died and was buried at the side of the hedge, so the hedge became rootless, the crane became featherless, the banyan tree became leafless, and the horse became earless."

As soon as the horse heard this, he dropped his ears! Having done this, the horse went, as was his wont, to a tank close by to drink water.

When the tank saw the horse without his ears, it began to wonder, and to think thus, "Yesterday when this horse came he had ears; today he has come but he has no ears" — and the tank asked the horse for the reason of it.

And the horse replied, "Uncle rat died and was buried at the side of the hedge, so the hedge became rootless, the crane became featherless, the banyan tree became leafless, the horse became earless, and the tank became waterless." Scarcely had the horse finished his tale when the water in the tank dried up.

An old groom, who drew his daily water-supply from the tank, came to fetch water, and was surprised to see all the water dried up. Thought he to himself, "Yesterday when I came the tank was full, and today I see that it has dried up" — and the groom asked the tank for the reason of it.

The tank replied, "Uncle rat died and was buried at the side of the hedge, so the hedge became rootless, the crane became featherless, the banyan tree became leafless, the horse became earless, the tank dried up, and the groom must remain without quenching his thirst."

When the old groom heard this story, he was so overcome with grief that he dashed his head against a stone on the edge of the tank, and then — wonder of wonders! — the tank immediately filled with water, the horse got back his ears, the banyan tree its leaves, the crane his feathers, and the hedge its roots!

NOTES

A New Cumulative Rhyme

attolam: This is a sort of gruel, prepared out of new rice, with the addition of jaggree and some ingredients such as cardamoms to sweeten and lend flavour to it. Almost every Bombay East Indian family makes attolam on All Souls' Day.


CHAIN: hedge - crane - banyan - horse - tank - groom

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