October 31. Story of the Day: Yekele

From Steve Bellovin's website: Apples Will Not Fall. See his notes below, and further information on the homepage of his site.

This is an example of ATU 2030. The Old Woman and her Pig.

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

YEKELE

(pxhere)

The Most High sent down Yekele to the world,
To the world a Yekele,
For Yekele to harvest the pears,
For Yekele to harvest the pears.

Yekele will not harvest the pears;
The pears will not fall, the pears will not fall!

The Most High sent down a dog to the world,
A dog to the world,
For the dog to bite Yekele,
For the dog to bite Yekele.

The dog will not bite Yekele;
Yekele will not harvest the pears;
The pears will not fall, the pears will not fall!

The Most High sent down a stick to the world,
A stick to the world,For the stick to hit the dog,
For the stick to hit the dog.

The stick will not hit the dog;
The dog will not bite Yekele;
Yekele will not harvest the pears;
The pears will not fall, the pears will not fall!

The Most High sent down fire to the world,
Fire to the world,
For the fire to burn the stick,
For the fire to burn the stick.

The fire will not burn the stick;
The stick will not hit the dog;
The dog will not bite Yekele;
Yekele will not harvest the pears;
The pears will not fall, the pears will not fall!

The most high sent down water to the world,
Water to the world,
For the water to put out the fire,
For the water to put out the fire.

The water will not put out the fire
The fire will not burn the stick;
The stick will not hit the dog;
The dog will not bite Yekele;
Yekele will not harvest the pears;
The pears will not fall, the pears will not fall!

The Most High sent down an ox to the world,
An ox to the world,
For the ox to drink the water,
For the ox to drink the water.

The ox will not drink the water;
The water will not put out the fire
The fire will not burn the stick;
The stick will not hit the dog;
The dog will not bite Yekele;
Yekele will not harvest the pears;
The pears will not fall, the pears will not fall!

The Most High sent down a butcher to the world,
A butcher to the world,
For the butcher to slaughter the ox,
For the butcher to slaughter the ox.

The butcher will not slaughter the ox;
The ox will not drink the water;
The water will not put out the fire
The fire will not burn the stick;
The stick will not hit the dog;
The dog will not bite Yekele;
Yekele will not harvest the pears;
The pears will not fall, the pears will not fall!

The Most High sent down the Angel of Death to the world,
The Angel of Death to the world,
For the Angel of Death to take the butcher,
For the Angel of Death to take the butcher.
The butcher now will slaughter the ox,
The ox now will drink the water,
The water now will put out the fire,
The fire now will burn the stick,
The stick now will hit the dog,
The dog now will bite Yekele,
Yekele now will harvest the pears:
The pears now will fall; the pears now will fall!

~  ~  ~

Der Oybershter's hinuntergeshicht die melech hamoves auf die weld,
Die melech hamoves auf die weld
Die melech hamoves zol die shochet nemen
Die melech hamoves zol die shochet nemen
Die shochet vill shoen exele koilen
Die exele vil shoen wasser trenken
Die wasser a vill shoen die fire lushen
Die fire vil shoen shtekele brennen
Die shtekelem vill shoen hintele shmisen
Die hintele vill shoen Yekelem bisen
Yekelem vill shoen perelech risen
Perelech vil shoen fallen;  perelech vil shoen fallen


NOTES

For at least fifty years and probably longer my family has sung a Yiddish variation of the Passover "Chad Gadya" song we call "Yekele".  There is no goat in ours, only a small boy ("Yekele") whom God has sent to pick the pears that will not fall from the tree themselves.  The boy refuses, and for encouragement God sends a dog to bite the boy, then a stick to hit the dog, a fire to burn the stick, water to quench the fire, etc.

In the last stanza the Melech Hamoves (Angel of Death) is sent and suddenly everyone turns to do his duty, but the pears, of course, have already fallen.  It's a wonderful story with a moral, sung to a minor key melody very different from "Chad Gadya"

Relatives as far back as my late great-grandfather have always claimed that it is a private family song.  How can this be? Doesn't anyone else, particularly of eastern European origin, know this version?


HThisere is a transliteration of the song as I remember it from seders of many years ago. 

October 8. Story of the Day: Old Lady Who Swallowed a Fly

This is a popular modern American folksong; the lyrics below are from Wikipedia.

It is cataloged as TMI Z49.14. The little old lady who swallowed a fly. See also Roud 9375.

I remember singing this song when I was little! Here is a version by Burl Ives:

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

There Was an Old Lady Who Swallowed a Fly

There was an old lady who swallowed a fly;
I don't know why she swallowed a fly - perhaps she'll die!

There was an old lady who swallowed a spider;
That wriggled and jiggled and tickled inside her!
She swallowed the spider to catch the fly;
I don't know why she swallowed a fly - Perhaps she'll die!

There was an old lady who swallowed a bird;
How absurd to swallow a bird!
She swallowed the bird to catch the spider;
That wriggled and jiggled and tickled inside her!
She swallowed the spider to catch the fly;
I don't know why she swallowed a fly - Perhaps she'll die!

There was an old lady who swallowed a cat;
Imagine that! She swallowed a cat!
She swallowed the cat to catch the bird,
She swallowed the bird to catch the spider;
That wriggled and jiggled and tickled inside her!
She swallowed the spider to catch the fly;
I don't know why she swallowed a fly - Perhaps she'll die!

There was an old lady that swallowed a dog;
What a hog, to swallow a dog!
She swallowed the dog to catch the cat,
She swallowed the cat to catch the bird,
She swallowed the bird to catch the spider;
That wriggled and jiggled and tickled inside her!
She swallowed the spider to catch the fly;
I don't know why she swallowed a fly - Perhaps she'll die!

There was an old lady who swallowed a goat;
She just opened her throat and swallowed a goat!
She swallowed the goat to catch the dog,
She swallowed the dog to catch the cat,
She swallowed the cat to catch the bird,
She swallowed the bird to catch the spider;
That wriggled and jiggled and tickled inside her!
She swallowed the spider to catch the fly;
I don't know why she swallowed a fly - Perhaps she'll die!

There was an old lady who swallowed a cow;
I don't know how she swallowed a cow!
She swallowed the cow to catch the goat,
She swallowed the goat to catch the dog,
She swallowed the dog to catch the cat,
She swallowed the cat to catch the bird,
She swallowed the bird to catch the spider;
That wriggled and jiggled and tickled inside her!
She swallowed the spider to catch the fly;
I don't know why she swallowed a fly - Perhaps she'll die!

There was an old lady who swallowed a horse;
...She died, of course!

(book cover by Nadine Westcott)

September 20. Story of the Day: Oh Brother Moon!

This story comes from an online pamplet entitled Intangible Cultural Heritage of Bhutan by Yeshi Lhendup. The author notes that this is translated from the Tshangla language.

This is ATU 2043. Where is the warehouse? which is a story type told in question-and-answer style.

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

OH BROTHER MOON!

WHERE DO YOU SLEEP?

(Kuri Chu River)

Oh Brother Moon!

Where do you sleep?

On the bank of Kuri Chu,

What do you eat?

I eat rice.

What is your curry?

Fish from the Bongri Chu.

Where is your leftover food?

Left on the manual grinding stone.

Where is the manual grinder?

It was burnt by fire.

Where is fire?

It was put out by water.

Where is water?

It was drunk by ja tsha [a hybrid ox].

Where is the ox?

The ox was taken to the field for ploughing.

Where is the field?

It was scratched up by the chicken.

Where is the chick?

It is on the manshing tree.

Where is the manshing?

It was cut down by the axe.

Where is the axe?

The axe was thrown in the blacksmith's workshop with a clang.

July 15. Story of the Day: What Can I Do? (The Peacock's Story)

Here is another original story by Prof. Smita Pawaskar (more of her contributions here), and it features a long series of animals, but this time it is a series of wild animals, seen through the eyes of a peacock: flying birds, songbirds, squirrel, mice, tortoise, ducks, and a crane. The plot might remind you of Aesop's fable about the jealous peacock, with a dose of Andersen's ugly duckling.  The ending of the story is very sweet!

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

WHAT CAN I DO?

by Smita Pawaskar

(translated by Suniti Namjoshi)

Around a small pond near the outskirts of a town a number of birds and beasts lived happily together. One day a young peacock came through the bushes. They had never seen a peacock before, but as he had two feet, wings and a beak the other birds assumed that he must be like them. They gave him some of the grain they had gathered for themselves. He must have come a long way because he gobbled it up hungrily, and then he perched on a low branch and fell asleep.

The next day when he went for a walk he saw a number of birds flying about in the sky. He said to himself ruefully, ‘The most I can do is hop onto a low branch. What fun the birds are having!’ 

Then he heard birdsong. He cleared his throat and tried to sing, but it was no use. ‘How wonderful to be able to sing like that,’ he thought.

A little further on the peacock saw a squirrel scamper up a tree and down again. She picked up a fruit in her front paws and began eating it. The peacock was charmed, ‘It must be great to be squirrel. She can do ever so many things!’ He tried to imitate her, but it was beyond him.

Next he saw two mice running in and out of mouse holes and playing catch. He wished he could play the way they were playing, but he knew that he would never fit into a mouse hole.

Then he saw a tortoise. As soon as the tortoise saw him, it pulled in its head and feet and hid under its shell. The peacock thought this was quite a trick. He tried to tuck his long neck under his body, but he just couldn’t do it.

As he got nearer the pond he saw some ducks. They kept going into the water and coming out again onto the mud. The peacock put one foot into the mud and promptly withdrew it. He was afraid of getting stuck. He couldn’t help thinking though that the ducks were having a splendid time.

At the side of the pond there was a crane standing absolutely still on one foot. He looked like a sage meditating; but as soon as he caught sight of a fish, he would spear it with his beak and eat it up. The peacock tried standing on one foot and tumbled over. As for the fish, they were nowhere in sight. The peacock said to himself sadly, ‘And I don’t even eat fish! All I eat is grain and insects.’

The peacock returned to his tree. As the days passed, his crest grew and his tail feathers filled out. The peacock didn’t know what he was supposed to do with all these feathers. 

(photo by Suniti Namjoshi)

But then one evening dark rain clouds began to mass in the sky. The sunlight could barely filter through. There was a tremendous thunderclap and a flash of lightning. And an astonishing thing happened. It was as though the lightning had somehow sparked something in the peacock. His whole body trembled, even his tail feathers, and as they trembled he fanned them out and his feet began to dance. He danced and he danced as he gazed at the sky. 

The birds and the beasts gathered about and watched the peacock’s unearthly dance. They loved the way his neck glittered when the lightning blazed, the grace of his movements, the spread of his tail, and were altogether enchanted by his magnificence. They gazed at the iridescent blues and greens and purples of his plumage, his jewelled feathers, and thought he was a splendid fellow. And still the peacock danced. He danced and danced till he was exhausted. And that night his sleep was peaceful and untroubled.

Pawaskar. The Sparrows' Nest

This is another story from Prof. Smita Pawaskar about a chain of animal helpers; for another story about animals who cooperate, see The Naughty Monkey. This time the helpers are a more eclectic collection: mouse, horse, mynah bird, and bees.

Prof. Pawaskar remembered this as a traditional story, but she could not remember all the details, so she got some help from others at the gym in Pune to fill in the gaps; here is what Suniti Namjoshi told me about that:

Smita couldn’t remember the poem her story is based on properly, but she wanted to tell it anyway. So I called Sandhya, the young woman who is in charge of that bit of the gym in that bit of time, because she likes Smita’s stories and wouldn’t have wanted to miss out. The thing was Smita couldn’t remember anything beyond the horse and there we were having a mini-conference, oh well, a confabulation, well, a chat. So I suggested a crow as a helper after the horse. But Smita was quite sure it couldn’t be a crow. So I suggested a mynah (grackle). This was acceptable and Smita thought we could stop at that. I said, “No. There had to be at least 4 helpers if there was any hope of calling it a chain.” Sandhya laughed. I lost count of how many sidekicks I had done. And Smita thought. I then suggested a honey bee (Smita frowned). A whole swarm of honey bees? And that was that.

It's the collective storytelling tradition in action!

THE SPARROWS' NEST

(translated by Suniti Namjoshi)

(sparrow nest)

It so happened that a pair of sparrows built their nest in the fork of a mango tree from the choicest bits of grass and fluff and odds and ends. They were all set to raise their young, when a great gust of wind blew away their nest. They were distraught.

‘’How can I lay eggs without a nest?” wailed the mother sparrow.

“Don’t worry,” said a mouse, scurrying up to help. “I’ve just been gnawing at an old mattress, and I’ve stashed away some cotton wool and bits of thread. I’ll bring you some.”

Then a horse, who lived nearby, came up to them. “I’ll bring you some grass and some straw from the stable. In no time at all you’ll be able to build a brand new nest.”

He was a tall horse and as he looked across he saw a chink in a wall. He pointed it out. “That might be a good spot to be build a nest,” he told the sparrows. “It looks sheltered from the wind and rain.”

The sparrows set to work. As soon as the nest was ready, the mother sparrow laid two speckled eggs.

Everyone was pleased that the sparrows had a nest again. They all waited for the eggs to hatch.

The mouse and the horse visited every day, and in a couple of weeks the eggs did hatch. 

A mynah brought some rice for the sparrows, the mouse some wheat, and the bees honey. 

And then they had a party and felt lucky because they lived among friends.

Pawaskar. Naughty Monkey

This is another original story by Prof. Smita Pawaskar. For more from Prof. Pawaskar, see this story: The Absentminded Mum. This story is likewise translated from the Marathi, and I will share the Marathi text here later.

The way the animals cooperate in this story might remind you of the folktale type labeled ATU 210 Rooster, Hen, Duck, Pin, and Needle or of the animals allied in ATU 130 Bremen Town Musicians. This time, though, they are all barnyard animals: dog, cat, sheep, cow, and horse... plus the monkey!

NAUGHTY MONKEY

by Smita Pawaskar

(translated from the Marathi by Suniti Namjoshi)

In a small farmyard the cat, the dog, the sheep, the horse and the cow were all good friends and lived happily together. But one day a young monkey joined them. He couldn’t resist playing monkey tricks on them and teasing them.

(macaque in Andhra Pradesh, India)

For instance the dog always kept his bone in a particular place, but the monkey would hide it in different places. Or sometimes he’d overturn the cat’s milk, or jump on the sheep’s back and pull out her wool. As for the horse and the cow, he was always getting between their feet and tickling them and pulling their tails. 

He kept thinking of new ways to annoy them every day until their lives were made completely miserable.

The farmyard animals tried asking him once, “Now then, little monkey, why do you keep playing these tricks on us?” 

But the monkey just replied, “Because I think it’s great fun.” 

The animals were at their wits’ end. When the monkey had gone away somewhere to eat fruit, they got together and decided to teach him a lesson.

As soon as he got back, the dog snarled at the little monkey and chased him up a tree. 

The cat was waiting for him. She showed her claws. 

This frightened the monkey so much that he leaped off the tree and fell next to the sheep. 

The sheep butted him so hard that he flew into the air and landed between the cow’s feet, and there the cow's legs held him fast.

The monkey pleaded with them, “Please, please, please let me go. I promise I’ll never play tricks on you again.”

And so the cow let him go. 

As for the horse he rose on his hind legs and trumpeted so loudly that the naughty monkey almost fainted. 

He asked each of the animals to forgive him, and it was only then that things began to calm down. The farmyard animals made it clear to the monkey that he would have to live peacefully with them or else they would drive him out. And after that the naughty monkey became a good little monkey and lived happily with the other animals.

June 23. Story of the Day: Abraham and the Star, Moon, and Sun

This story of Abraham comes from the Quran, Surah 6, verses 74-79, which I have presented below in three different English translations. To learn more about Abraham in Islam, see Wikipedia.

This story is classified as ATU 2031B. Abraham learns to worship God (which is a subtype of the Stronger and Strongest class of stories). This story is not part of the Hebrew Bible, but it is part of Hebrew extra-Biblical tradition as you can see in these stories: The True Believer and Abraham and Nimrod.

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

ABRAHAM AND THE STAR, MOON, AND SUN

(Abraham destroying idols)

From Clear Quran:

74. Abraham said to his father Azar, “Do you take idols for gods? I see that you and your people are in evident error.”

75. Thus We showed Abraham the empire of the heavens and the earth, that he might be one of those with certainty.

76. When the night fell over him, he saw a planet. He said, “This is my lord.” But when it set, he said, “I do not love those that set.”

77. Then, when he saw the moon rising, he said, “This is my lord.” But when it set, he said, “If my Lord does not guide me, I will be one of the erring people.”

78. Then, when he saw the sun rising, he said, “This is my lord, this is bigger.” But when it set, he said, “O my people, I am innocent of your idolatry.

79. I have directed my attention towards Him Who created the heavens and the earth—a monotheist—and I am not of the idolaters.”


From the Wright House site:

74. Lo! Abraham said to his father Azar: "Takest thou idols for gods? For I see thee and thy people in manifest error."

75. So also did We show Abraham the power and the laws of the heavens and the earth, that he might (with understanding) have certitude.

76. When the night covered him over, He saw a star: He said: "This is my Lord." But when it set, He said: "I love not those that set."

77. When he saw the moon rising in splendour, he said: "This is my Lord." But when the moon set, He said: "unless my Lord guide me, I shall surely be among those who go astray."

78. When he saw the sun rising in splendour, he said: "This is my Lord; this is the greatest (of all)." But when the sun set, he said: "O my people! I am indeed free from your (guilt) of giving partners to Allah.

79. "For me, I have set my face, firmly and truly, towards Him Who created the heavens and the earth, and never shall I give partners to Allah."


From quran.com (which also has the Arabic text and audio):

74 And [mention, O Muhammad], when Abraham said to his father Azar, "Do you take idols as deities? Indeed, I see you and your people to be in manifest error."

75 And thus did We show Abraham the realm of the heavens and the earth that he would be among the certain [in faith]

76 So when the night covered him [with darkness], he saw a star. He said, "This is my lord." But when it set, he said, "I like not those that disappear."

77 And when he saw the moon rising, he said, "This is my lord." But when it set, he said, "Unless my Lord guides me, I will surely be among the people gone astray."

78 And when he saw the sun rising, he said, "This is my lord; this is greater." But when it set, he said, "O my people, indeed I am free from what you associate with Allah.

79 Indeed, I have turned my face toward He who created the heavens and the earth, inclining toward truth, and I am not of those who associate others with Allah."

Paredes. The Nanny Goat

This is a description of a song reported in Folktales of Mexico by Americo Paredes.

Paredes explains that he collected the song in Matamoros, Tamaulipas in 1954. The singer was Juan Guajardo, age 63, who was a well known singer of corridos and other folk songs. Paredes provides the tune and the Spanish title "La Chiva" on p. 185 of the book. Paredes archived the audio in the University of Texas Folklore Center Archive, F131-3.

The song combines multiple motifs: money, buying something (of increasing value), and reproduction.

The first stanza goes:

I have my real and a half;
with a real and a half I bought a nanny goat.
The nanny had a kid.
I have the nanny, I have the goat.
And my real and a half is still not spent.

The purchases and reproductions accumulate:

I have my real and a half;
with a real and a half I bought a she-ass.
The she-ass had a colt.
I have the she-ass, I have the colt.
I have the nanny, I have the goat.
And my real and a half is still not spent.

The purchases are:
nanny who had a goat
she-ass who had a colt
a turkey hen who had a chick
a bitch who had a little puppy
a Negro woman who had a little Negro
a gringo woman who had a little gringo
a Chinese woman who had a little Chinaman

Sometimes the stanza begins "I have my real and a half; with a real and a half I bought..." (stanzas 1-2-5) and other times the stanza begins "With a real and a half that I used to have" (stanzas 3-4-6-7).

So the final stanza goes:

With a real and a half that I used to have
I bought a Chinese woman.
The Chinese woman had a little Chinaman.
I have the Chinese woman, I have the little Chinaman.
I have the gringo woman, I have the little gringo.
I have the Negro woman, I have the little Negro.
I have the bitch, I have the puppy.
I have the turkey-hen, I have the chick.
I have the she-ass, I have the colt.
I have the nanny, I have the goat.
And my real and a half is still not spent.

(pxhere)

June 22. Story of the Day: The Happy Crow

Here is another Marathi story contributed by Prof. Smita Pawaskar. There is a version by Suniti Namjoshi here based on the story Prof. Pawaskar shared orally, and then a translation of Prof. Pawaskar's written Marathi text (you can see the Marathi text here).

I don't have a folktale type for this, but it is a wonderful series of tests, and the crow never fails!

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

THE HAPPY CROW

(crow in India)

Once upon a time a discontented king sent his minions in search of a creature who was genuinely happy. They looked everywhere, and were about to give up, when at last they found a crow who was always cheerful. They brought him before the king.

“Huh,” said the king, “let’s see how long his cheerfulness lasts,” and he threw him into a cauldron of oil. The crow wasn’t bothered. He began to sing:
Tum tum dee.
Let’s fry a pappadum
For you and me.
Tum tee dee.

frying a pappadum

The king then threw him into a saucepan of ghee. This time the crow sang.
Tum tum dee.
Let’s make a laddu
With this ghee.
Tum tee dee.

The king couldn’t believe that the crow was still cheerful. He threw him into a cistern of water. But the crow just sang.
Tum tum dee.
Now I can splash,
Happy as can be.
Tum tee dee.

The king snorted and threw the crow into a deep ditch filled with mud. The crow stayed cheerful and sang once again.
Tum tum dee.
Let’s slide in the mud,
You and me.
Tum tee dee.

In the end the king realised that the crow was always going to make the best of a bad situation. His contentment came from within. He let the bird go and decided to follow the crow’s example.

An Alternative Ending

By now the king was so exasperated with the endlessly cheerful crow that he threw him over a cliff. The crow soared into the sky, circled and flapped and landed beside the king. He sang:
Tum tum dee.
Come fly with me
For company?
Tum tee dee.

The king couldn’t believe what was happening, and then slowly he came to his senses. “You really are a cheerful creature,” he said to the crow. “It’s because you make the best of things.  I’m going to follow your example.” The king sang:
Tum tum dee.
Dance with me,
It’s two for tea.
Tum tee dee.

The crow and the king started dancing together. At first the courtiers didn’t know what to make of this; but it looked like fun, so they joined in. And eventually the entire kingdom became a happier place for everyone.

THE HAPPY CROW

(translated from the written text)

(photo by S. Namjoshi; crow in Pune)

Once upon a time there was a king who had a splendid kingdom and a palace which contained everything the heart could desire; but in spite of that he was unhappy. He just didn’t know how to be happy.

One day he called his Prime Minister and told him to find the happiest being in his entire kingdom and to bring this creature to him.

Well, the Prime Minister and the king’s soldiers searched everywhere for a contented being. But everyone seemed absorbed in their problems and difficulties. Whoever they asked, replied, “No, no, we are certainly not happy.”

The king’s soldiers didn’t know what to do. The king had commanded them to find a happy creature, and the king’s command had to be obeyed.

In their search for a happy creature they reached the outskirts of the town and came across a crow happily sitting on a tree and eating something. Every now and then he would fly about a little and then alight and swing on a branch. He would  make different noises, and sometimes even perch on the back of cow and play tricks on her.

“He’s a truly happy creature!” the king’s soldiers cried and they caught him and brought him before the king.

The king was surprised. “He’s just a crow!” the king exclaimed. “How can he be truly happy?”

The king decided to test him in various ways. To start with the king threw him into a cauldron of oil. The crow began to sing:  “Let’s fry papadum in oil. Let’s fry papadum in oil.”

The king couldn’t understand it. He threw him into a saucepan of ghee. The crow began to sing: “Let’s make laddus out of ghee. Let’s eat laddus made of ghee.”

The king really didn’t know what to do.  The king threw him into a cistern of water. He was sure that the crow would be in trouble now and would cry out. But the crow began to sing again: “Let’s swim happily in the water. Let’s swim happily in the water.”

The king was beside himself. “I’ve done my best to make your life miserable, but you continue happy. Let’s see how you stand the next test!”

And with that he threw him into a deep ditch filled with mud. The crow began to sing: “We’ll slide about in the mud. We’ll slide about in the mud.”

At last the king began to understand that the crow was a truly happy creature, and that his happiness came from within himself. External circumstances did not affect him. Having understood this, the king let the crow go and the crow flew away.

June 19. Story of the Day: Absentminded Mum

This is an original story by Prof. Smita Pawaskar, and you will find two versions here. First, there is a rendering by Suniti Namjoshi based on hearing Prof. Pawaskar tell a quick version of the story orally. Then there is a translation of the version which Prof. Pawaskar later supplied in writing; you can see the Marathi text here (click on images for larger view). It's fun to see how the story evolves!

This is not a folktale, but it does feature the same kind of "barnyard animal" series that you find in folktales. There are animals you will find in European and American barnyards (like in The Barnyard Song), along with a distinctively south Asian water buffalo.

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

ABSENTMINDED MUM
by Smita Pawaskar
(as told to Suniti Namjoshi)

A farmer’s wife, who was cleaning the attic with her child beside her, suddenly remembered she had left a pot of boiling water in the kitchen downstairs and went to turn it off. Then she noticed the kitchen was dirty and started to clean it. After a while she realized that her child wasn’t with her. She was frantic. She had quite forgotten she had left her in the attic. She thought the child must have wandered outside.

The anxious mum ran up to the nanny goat, “Nanny goat, nanny goat, have you seen my little girl?”

(pxhere)

‘Of course not,” replied the nanny goat. “I’ve been busy nursing my kids. I have twins, you know.”

The mum turned to the speckled hen.  “Speckled hen, speckled hen, have you seen my little girl?”

‘Of course not,” replied the mother hen. “I have a dozen chicks of my own to look after.”

The mother then asked the brown mare,   “Brown mare, brown mare, have you seen my little girl?”

“Sorry,” replied the brown mare. “My own little foal is still young and I have to keep an eye on him.”

A mother goose was swimming in the pond.  “Mother goose, mother goose,” the mum called, “have you seen my little girl?”

But the mother goose just shook her head and pointed to her own brood of goslings.

The poor mother was returning to the farmhouse sadly, when she saw her own dear, little girl coming out of the front door. The child had clambered down the stairs and was looking for her mum. The two ran towards each other and hugged and kissed and were as happy as can be because they had found each other.

And the nanny goat and her kids, and the speckled hen and her chicks, and the brown mare and her foal, and the mother goose and her goslings were happy as well.

~ ~ ~

THE MOTHER AND HER CHILD
by Smita Pawaskar
(translated from the Marathi by Suniti Namjoshi)

A mother and her two- or three-year-old boy lived in a small village.  Her husband used to go to work in the fields early in the mornings. She used to be busy with the housework all day long. And the child used to be busy playing!

One day the mother said to her boy, “Come let’s go and tidy up the room at the top of the house. I’ll get busy. You bring your toys.  Our food is in the cooker and will be ready by the time we finish.”

They went upstairs. After a while the mother remembered the food in the cooker. “Come, Raju,” she said to her son, “let’s go downstairs.” And with that she hurried downstairs and got busy in the kitchen. She was sure that Raju would have followed her downstairs. Once she’d finished all her kitchen chores, she called out to Raju; but Raju didn’t answer.

She decided that Raju must have wandered into the farmyard, so she went out to look for him. She said to the cat, “O pussy cat, have you seen my little Raju?”

The cat replied, “Of course not. How could I have? I was busy giving milk to my little kitten.”

A little further on the mother found a gentle cow in the cowshed. “O gentle cow, have you seen my little Raju?” she asked.

“How could I have had the time? I was busy licking my little calf,” the cow replied

The mother then came to the stables, and she said to the brown mare, “O brown mare have you seen my little boy?”

“No, oh no,” replied the mare. “I was busy running about with my little foal. How could I have?”

Just then she came across a dog with her puppy.  “O mistress dog, have you seen my little boy?” she asked. “I’ve been looking for him for so long now.”

“How could I have?” came the reply.  “My little puppy and I were busy with a bone. I was teaching him how to gnaw.”

(water buffalo)

And when the poor mother asked a water buffalo whether she had seen her little boy, the buffalo replied, “I was taking my little calf for a dip in the water.”

As for the nanny goat, she said she was teaching her little kid to pull down leaves to eat.

The poor mother sat down in despair on her doorstep, and just then Raju appeared stretching sleepily.

“Where have you been?” she said to him. “I’ve been looking for you for ever so long.”

“Oh Mum,” Raju said. “I fell asleep while playing. And that’s why I didn’t hear your cries.”

Then Raju’s mother held him close and gave him a big kiss.

The Cat who Ate the Kheer

This wonderful story is contributed from the Marathi by Prof. Smita Pawaskar. You can read about the delicious pudding called kheer at Wikipedia.

This would be classified as ATU 15, Stealing the Partner's Butter.

THE CAT WHO ATE THE KHEER

(kheer ingredients)

A sparrow, a monkey and a cat used to live together in a small hovel. They scrounged for food and were happy enough.

One day the cat said to the other two, “Let’s make some kheer. Monkey, you go get some jaggery. Sparrow, you bring the rice, even if you have to make fifty trips. And I’ll get the milk.”

The others thought this was an excellent idea. The monkey brought a lump of jaggery. The sparrow brought the rice even though it took her fifty trips.  The cat stole a cup of milk and the monkey brought some water in a large earthenware pot from a pond nearby.

Then the cat heated everything in a saucepan. As the kheer cooked, it smelled delicious. When it was nearly ready, the cat told the others to go and have a dip in the pond. The kheer would be ready when they got back.

As soon as they were gone, the cat gobbled up all the kheer. She couldn’t resist it. Then she put the lid back on the saucepan, covered herself with a blanket and pretended to be sick.

“What’s wrong?” the others asked when they returned.

“I don’t feel very well,” moaned the cat.

“Sorry,” said the others. “Where is the kheer?”

“In the saucepan,” replied the cat.

When they looked in the saucepan, they found that all the kheer was gone.

“What happened to the kheer?” they asked the cat.

“Someone must have stolen it,” groaned the cat, “while you were gone.”

“We were only gone a minute,” Monkey protested. He began to suspect that the cat had gobbled up the kheer and was only pretending to be sick.

“There’s only one way to find out,” he told the other two. “We’ll take this earthen vessel, and float it on the pond upside down. Then we’ll each take a turn at balancing on top.  Anyone who has eaten the kheer is bound to be heavy, and that will make the pot sink.”

The cat had to agree to the test.

The monkey went first. The pot floated, the monkey sat on it and then jumped off.

The sparrow stood on it next and flew off with no trouble at all.

It was the cat’s turn. She was afraid she would be caught. She did her best to balance on the pot; but she trembled and quaked so much that the pot overturned and sank and so did the cat.

And that was the end of the poor, greedy, kheer-eating cat.


Here is a video of the story told in Marathi:

June 15. Story of the Day: Uncle Rat's Cap

Provided from the Marathi by Shrimati Jayashreedevi Shirole, via Suniti Namjoshi (more of her contributions). As you can see from the video at the bottom of this post, the story is alive and well in India. In the video title the king is mockingly called "Raja Bhikari," "The King Who Begs" (bhiksha are the alms you might give to a beggar) -- you'll see why at the end of the story, and after reading the English version, you'll be able to follow along with the video in the Marathi language.

I do not have a folktale type classification number for this, although there are other stories that include a series-of-professions. The ambitious rat in this story might remind you of the rat in the Punjabi story, The Rat's Wedding.

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

UNCLE RAT'S CAP

(screenshot from the Raja Bhikari video)

One day Uncle Rat found a piece of cloth. He took it to the dhobi [washerman] and said, “Please wash it for me.”

“Won’t,” said the dhobi. “Shan’t,” said the dhobi. “I have better things to do than washing your rag.”

“Well,” said the Rat.
“I’ll go to the police and tell on you. 
They’ll send four men who‘ll beat you blue. 
And then you’ll wish you had washed my rag.”

So the dhobi washed Uncle Rat’s rag.

Then the Rat took his rag to the dyer and said, “Please dye it for me.”

“Won’t,” said the dyer. “Can’t,” said the dyer.

And Uncle Rat said,
“I’ll go to the police and tell on you. 
They’ll send four men who’ll beat you blue. 
And then you’ll wish you had dyed my rag.”

So the dyer dyed Uncle Rat’s rag.

Uncle Rat went to the tailor next, and said, “Please make a cap for me.”

“Shan’t,” said the tailor, to which Uncle Rat replied,
“I’ll go to the police and tell on you. 
They’ll send four men who’ll beat you blue. 
And then you’ll wish you had made my cap.”

The tailor made Uncle Rat’s cap.

The Rat now wanted a tassel for it, so he went to the tassel maker and asked him to make a tassel for it.

“No,” said the tassel maker.

Uncle Rat said,
“I’ll go to the police and tell on you. 
They’ll send four men who’ll beat you blue. 
And you’ll wish you had fixed a tassel on my cap.”

So the tassel maker made a tassel for Uncle Rat’s cap.

Uncle Rat now had a splendid cap. He put it on, and sat in a doorway watching the King go by.

The King happened to see the cap. He told his courtiers to fetch it for him.

There wasn’t much the Rat could do, but he sang as loudly as he could,
“The King is a beggar 
And has run away with my beautiful cap.
The King is a beggar.
The King is a beggar
And has run away with my beautiful cap.”

The King felt silly when he heard this, so he returned the cap.

Uncle Rat put it on and now he sang more loudly than ever,
“The King is a coward 
And given me back my beautiful cap.
The King is a coward.
The King is a coward
And has given me back my beautiful cap.”

In this version, the rat goes to a dhobi, then a tailor, and then a woman who makes him a tassel (there is no dyer in this version). He then goes banging his drum into the presence of King Bhikari and makes fun of him: that drum is definitely a good accompaniment to the little rat's personality!

Balkoba Sangkame: Next time I'll get it right

Another story from the Marathi (India) by Shrimati Jayashreedevi Shirole, via Suniti Namjoshi (more contributions here), with notes also below the story.

This is ATU Tale Type 1696: What should I have done?

You can skip the somewhat scary clown and start the actual story at

BALKOBA SANGKAMÉ

(from the video)

One Sunday Balkoba Sangkame went to visit his aunt. When it was time to go home, his aunt gave him a lump of butter to take with him. Balkoba wrapped it up in a piece of paper and put it under his cap.  By the time he got home, the sun had melted the butter and it was trickling down his face.

His mother was a bit cross, but she explained to him that he should have wrapped up the butter in a banana leaf.

“Sorry,” said Balkoba. “Next time I’ll get it right.”

When Sunday came around, he went to visit his aunt again. This time she gave him a puppy. He wrapped up the puppy in a banana leaf and brought it home. The poor thing had nearly smothered to death.

His mother sighed and explained patiently that he should have tied a string around the puppy’s neck and led it back.

 “Sorry,” said Balkoba. “But next time I will get it right.”

It was Sunday again and he went to visit his aunt.  This time she gave him a jelabi to take back with him. He was determined to be careful. He tied a string around it and dragged it back.

His mother just looked at him sorrowfully and explained that jelabis are to be carried in a paper bag. And so the next time when his aunt gave him some buttermilk…

The tale of Balkoba Sangkame, who had to be told each time how to do things right, but who  managed somehow to get them wrong, is too long for one person to tell and so everyone is invited to help.


NOTES

Bal means child or boy, but when it’s turned into ‘Balkoba’  there’s a slightly sarcastic, though not unkind, tinge to it.  Marathi tends to be imbued with sarcasm and irony. Sangkamé refers to a person who has to be told to do something every single time and who never gets anything right. The word literally means ‘has to be told chores.’


Here is a video in Marathi:

June 11. Story of the Day: Hungry Giant

Here is another story that Suniti Namjoshi has contributed to the project: thank you, Suniti! You can find out more about Suniti Namjoshi's work here, and here are the other stories she has contributed: The Cat Shrine and The Brahmin and his Small Gods.

I am really glad to have a story about a giant; any respectable folklore project needs at least one giant! As you will see, the story is about a chain of unexpected consequences, something like the proverb for want of a nail. With her chain of consequences, the quick-witted mother makes the giant stop and think. Which is hard work for a giant, of course.

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

THE HUNGRY GIANT

by Suniti Namjoshi

A giant, who was looking for something to eat, once came across three small children. He was about to snatch one of them, when their mother shrieked and explained to the giant that that particular child was destined for greatness and would bring great glory to the entire nation.  Surely the giant didn’t want everyone to miss out on that? The giant wasn’t sure whether he cared about glory, but as the woman seemed certain that it was something he should care about, he shrugged and said, “Oh, all right, I’ll take this other child.”

The woman shrieked more loudly than ever. “That child,” she told the giant, “will be able to produce a sack of grain where only one grain grew before.”

This was clearly useful to a hungry giant, so he let the child go.

He seized the third child. He was determined to hang on to this one.  “He looks perfectly ordinary,” the giant told the woman, “and won’t be missed much.”

“You’re right,” she agreed. “The world won’t miss him. But he will do something that will save your life.”

“He can’t save my life,” the giant roared. “He’s a puny thing.”

“That’s true,” said the woman. “But one day he’ll go fishing and catch the fish that would have been caught by the royal chef and served to the king’s only son − that is if my boy hadn’t caught it first.”

“So what?” The giant shrugged.

“Had the king’s son been served the fish, a fishbone would have got stuck in his throat and he would have choked.”

 “And what’s that to me?” the giant retorted.

“Had the king’s son lived, he would have killed a boar that roams through the forest,” the woman continued.

“Who cares about boars?” the giant growled.

“You do,” the woman told him. “Had the prince not killed the boar, that boar would have gored you as you lay asleep.”

“A boar can’t kill me!” the giant scoffed.

“No, but the boar would have wounded you, and a wandering giant would have attacked instantly and slain you on the spot.”

The giant frowned. “What if I kill the boar?” he asked.

“How many boars can you kill?” replied the woman. “It has to be the boar that the prince was destined to kill.”

“What if I caught the fish?” the giant demanded. Then he went on before she could speak, “Yes, all right, how many fish can I catch?  I’m getting confused. What should I do?”

“You should walk away and think things through,” the woman advised him.

And that’s what he did, so that the woman and her three children lived long happy lives, as did the giant, who was vastly relieved that none of the dreadful things that might have happened ever came true.

Photo by Jan Hammershaug: The 46 feet high troll is guarding the entrance to the fairy tale grotto at Hunderfossen Familypark.

CHAIN: giant kills boy, so boy doesn't catch fish; prince chokes on fish, so he doesn't kill boar; boar wounds giant, so another giant kills him

June 10. Story of the Day: I Had a Little Overcoat

Thanks so much to Suniti Namjoshi for telling me about this song! She shared with me this enticing passage from The End of Days by Jenny Erpenbeck (translated from the German by Susan Bernofsky), now I really want to read this book; I had not heard about it before. Here is the reference to the chain-tale song:

… her great-grandmother would have braided her hair, singing a little song about a man who makes a coat out of an old piece of cloth, then when it’s gotten tattered he makes vest out of the coat, then makes a scarf from the tattered vest, a cap from the tattered scarf, a button from the tattered cap, a nothing at all from the button, and in the end he makes this song out of the nothing at all, but by then the braids would have been finished…

It turns out that this a famous Yiddish song, "Hob ikh mir a mantl," in which someone makes their worn-out coat into a jacket, the jacket into a vest, then the vest into a kerchief (a hat, a tie), with the last bit of fabric used to make a button... and when the button is lost, from the nothing that remains there comes a song! I've included the Yiddish lyrics at the bottom of this blog post.

Of the English versions I could find online, my favorite was this one as performed by Alina Celeste, who learned about the song from an illustrated children's book, Joseph Had a Little Overcoat by Simms Tabak.

I HAD A LITTLE OVERCOAT

I had a little overcoat much too old to sew.
Whatever could I do with it, I just didn't know.
So I thought what I could do
and gave myself a jacket that was almost new.

I had a little jacket much too old to sew.
Whatever could I do with it, I just didn't know.
So I thought what I could do
and gave myself a vest that was almost new.

I had a little vest much too old to sew.
Whatever could I do with it, I just didn't know.
So I thought what I could do
and gave myself a kerchief that was almost new.

I had a little kerchief much too old to sew
Whatever could I do with it, I just didn't know.
So I thought what I could do
and gave myself a button that was almost new.

I had a little button; where ever did it go?
What could I do with nothing? I just didn't know.
So I thought what I could do
and gave myself a song, and I sing it now to you.

Below are the Yiddish lyrics for the traditional folksong, and you can listen to a performance by Bonnie Abrams:

Hob ikh mir a mantl fun fartsaytikn shtof.
Tralalalalalalala.
Hot dos nit in zikh kayn gantsenem shtokh.
Tralalalalalalala.
Darum, hob ikh zikh batrakht.
Un fun dem mantl a rekl gemakht.
Tralalalalalalala.
Fun dem mantl a rekl gemakht.

Hob ikh mir a rekl fun fartsaytikn shtof.
Tralalalalalalala.
Hot dos nit in zikh kayn gantsenem shtokh.
Tralalalalalalala.
Darum, hob ikh zikh batrakht.
Un fun dem rekl a vestl gemakht.
Tralalalalalalala.
Fun dem rekl a vestl gemakht.

Hob ikh mir a vestl fun fartsaytikn shtof.
Tralalalalalalala.
Hot dos nit in zikh kayn gantsenem shtokh.
Tralalalalalalala.
Darum, hob ikh zikh batrakht.
Un fun dem vestl a shnipsl gemakht.
Tralalalalalalala.
Fun dem vestl a shnipsl gemakht.

Hob ikh mir a shnipsl fun fartsaytikn shtof.
Tralalalalalalala.
Hot dos nit in zikh kayn gantsenem shtokh.
Tralalalalalalala.
Darum, hob ikh zikh batrakht.
Un fun dem shnipsl a knepl gemakht.
Tralalalalalalala.
Fun dem shnipsl a knepl gemakht.

Hob ikh mir a knepl fun fartsaytikn shtof.
Tralalalalalalala.
Hot dos nit in zikh kayn gantsenem shtokh.
Tralalalalalalala.
Darum, hob ikh zikh batrakht.
Un fun dem knepl a gornitl gemakht.
Tralalalalalalala.
Fun dem knepl a gornitl gemakht.

Hob ikh mir a gornitl fun fartsaytikn shtof.
Tralalalalalalala.
Hot dos nit in zikh kayn gantsenem shtokh.
Tralalalalalalala.
Darum, hob ikh zikh batrakht.
Un fun dem gornitl a dos lidele gemakht.
Tralalalalalalala.
Fun dem gornitl a dos lidele gemakht.


CHAIN: coat (overcoat) - jacket - vest - kerchief (tie, hat) - button - song

Bhutan. Let the children play

This is from Intangible Cultural Heritage of Bhutan by Yeshi Lhendup.

LET THE CHILDREN PLAY

Let the children play;
They need a small basket to play;
The basket needs canes to weave;
The cane needs a knife to cut;
But the knife is with the blacksmith;
You need la-tsi (musk) to please the blacksmith.
But la tsi is with the brokpa;
You need a bangchang to please the brokpa;
You need a changsho (bamboo net) to sieve the chang.

(chang)

So you want a mare;
And you want a foal from a mare;
You want to send the foal to India;
And bring money from India;
So you want to take money to Tibet;
And bring flag cloths from Tibet;

And hoist a flag on the roof of your house.

Bhutan. Brother Moon! Give me the left-over food.

This is from Intangible Cultural Heritage of Bhutan by Yeshi Lhendup.

This is ATU 2043. Where is the warehouse?

BROTHER MOON!

GIVE ME THE LEFT-OVER FOOD

Brother Moon!
Give me the left-over food.
It was kept on a shelf.
Where is the shelf?
It was burnt by a fire.
Where is the fire?
It was put out by water.
Where is water?
It was drunk by an ox.
Where is the ox?
It fell down and died.
Where is the place the ox fell down?
A flood washed it.
Where is the place of the flood?
Artemisia plants have grown over it.

(Artemisia in Bhutan)

Where are Artemisia plants?
An ox had eaten it.
Where is the ox?
It was taken for ploughing.
Where is the ploughed land?
Maize has been grown.
Where are the maize crops?
It has been cooked.
Where is the food?
It was kept on a shelf.
Where is the shelf?
It was burnt by a fire.

This Khengkha language version comes from Dangphu Dingphu: The Origin of the Bhutanese Folktales by Dorji Penjore in Journal of Bhutan Studies (Winter 2009; online here).

A cho la la
ma ma shag pa wai le
lang na bleg pa
lang a ni
gami nyum pa
gami a ni
khe na cho sa
khe a ni
jasa bari thong pa
jasa bari a ni
brag ning ga'i pa
brag ning ga'i pai deb a ni
rod pai khor pa
rod pai deb ani
dung mai nyng khrong pa
dung mai nyung a ni
bari chu sa
bari a ni
leng tsho ro khor pa
leng tsho sa'i deb a ni
a shom khrong pa
a shom a ni
to cham pa
To a ni
lang na bleg pa
lang a ni
ga mi nyum pa

Children, Go Where I Send Thee!

The song "Children, Go Where I Send Thee" is a traditional African-American song; you can see many variations on the lyrics at Wikipedia. The song is an example of TMI Z21.2. Ehod mi yodea = ATU 2010. See also Roud 133. The Twelve Numbers.

Here is a video at YouTube from Kenny Rogers and the group Home Free, and I've included the lyrics they sing below.

CHILDREN GO WHERE I SEND THEE

Children, go where I send thee
How shall I send thee?
I’m gonna send thee one by one
One for the little bitty baby
Born of the virgin Mary
Born, born, born in Bethlehem.

(Public Domain Pictures)

Children, go where I send thee
How shall I send thee?
I’m gonna send thee two by two
Two for Paul and Silas
One for the little bitty baby
Born of the virgin Mary
Born, born, born in Bethlehem

Children, go where I send thee
How shall I send thee?
I’m gonna send thee three by three
Three for the Hebrew children
Two for Paul and Silas
One for the little bitty baby
Born of the virgin Mary
Born, born, born in Bethlehem

Children, go where I send thee
How shall I send thee?
I’m gonna send thee four by four
Four for the four that stood at the door
Three for the Hebrew children
Two for Paul and Silas
One for the little bitty baby
Born of the virgin Mary
Born, born, born in Bethlehem

Children, go where I send thee
How shall I send thee?
I’m gonna send thee five by five
Five for the Gospel preachers
Four for the four that stood at the door
Three for the Hebrew children
Two for Paul and Silas
One for the little bitty baby
Born of the virgin Mary
Born, born, born in Bethlehem

Children, go where I send thee
How shall I send thee?
I’m gonna send thee six by six
Six for the six that couldn't get fixed
Five for the Gospel preachers
Four for the four that stood at the door
Three for the Hebrew children
Two for Paul and Silas
One for the little bitty baby
Born of the virgin Mary
Born, born, born in Bethlehem

Children, go where I send thee
How shall I send thee?
I’m gonna send thee seven by seven
Seven for the seven that couldn't get to heaven
Six for the six that couldn't get fixed
Five for the Gospel preachers
Four for the four that stood at the door
Three for the Hebrew children
Two for Paul and Silas
One for the little bitty baby
Born of the virgin Mary
Born, born, born in Bethlehem

Children, go where I send thee
How shall I send thee?
I’m gonna send thee eight by eight
Eight for the eight that stood was the gate
Seven for the seven that couldn't get to heaven
Six for the six that couldn't get fixed
Five for the Gospel preachers
Four for the four that stood at the door
Three for the Hebrew children
Two for Paul and Silas
One for the little bitty baby
Born of the virgin Mary
Born, born, born in Bethlehem

That's how the whole thing started
Way down in the manger:
Eight for the eight that stood was the gate
Seven for the seven that couldn't get to heaven
Six for the six that couldn't get fixed
Five for the Gospel preachers
Four for the four that stood at the door
Three for the Hebrew children
Two for Paul and Silas
One for the little bitty baby
Born of the virgin Mary
Born, born, born in Bethlehem


Here's a version by the Fairfield Four:

And here's a version by Nina Simone:

May 23. Story of the Day: The Brahmin and his Small Gods

For today's story, I offer another contribution from Suniti Namjoshi (see her previous story here: The Cat Shrine). This time, she has taken one of the 19th-century stories and reworked it. You can compare the versions and see what you think! Here is the Mukharji version she started from: The Brahman and His Idols ... and her version is below. She has made so many important little changes, starting with the title itself: not "idols" now, but "small gods." Details matter.

She says:

I was trying to stay as close to the original as possible; but realised that in spite of myself I was altering it in accordance with my own mindset. For example, as a feminist I’ve given  the brahmin’s wife a greater role, and as someone with a Hindu background I’ve tried to make it clear that what is being worshipped is the divinity inherent in creation, not the objects themselves...  Rewriting someone else’s work, as opposed to writing one’s own stories – though I’m not sure there’s a hard and fast difference – is a strangely disturbing experience. Try it!☺

When stories are in the public domain, like all the 19th-century folktales and nursery rhymes you will find at this site, they are just waiting to be told again, made new by storytellers who change the old stories to suit themselves and to share with their own audiences. If you have a story retelling you would like to contribute to this site, let me know! There's contact information in the blog sidebar.

Now if only we knew something more about Mukharji's source(s) and other versions of this story from the farther past. If I learn anything more about that, I will be sure to add those versions to the site.

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

THE BRAHMIN AND HIS SMALL GODS

(by Suniti Namjoshi, from Ram Satya Mukharji)

There was once a brahmin who was happy enough worshipping the household gods. He would bring them flowers, light incense and bow his head in reverence. He and his wife led a contented life, until it occurred to him that he ought to find out which of his gods was the most powerful. The question obsessed him. He meditated, he worried, he even took to wandering the streets and asking people. They thought he was mad, which in a way he was.

He went to the forest [as people tend to do in Indian stories] and there he met a woodcutter. The woodcutter told him that the most powerful god was probably the one who could best withstand a blacksmith’s hammer. The brahmin borrowed a hammer and smashed all the gods, except a small Shri Krishna which was made of bronze. He started to worship the bronze god alone and threw the rest into a well.

This was desecration.  His wife tried to bring him to his senses, but it was no use.  As he saw it, he was doing his duty. He brought the god small offerings of fruit and milk and completely ignored everything and everybody. One day he noticed that his offerings were being consumed. The god had accepted them! He was overjoyed and he became more devout than ever.

Then he saw a rat in the little room set aside for the gods, and he realised that it was the rat who’d been eating all the food. He caught the rat, threw Shri Krishna into the well, and began to worship the rat instead. The rat was clearly more powerful than the god had been. What’s more, now the brahmin could actually see his offerings being accepted.

This went on for a while till a cat got the rat. Obviously, the cat was more powerful, and the cat got installed in the rat’s place.  The cat enjoyed being a goddess. She drank huge quantities of milk. She drank so much that the brahmin’s wife got more and more annoyed. And when the cat overturned a pan of milk, the brahmin’s wife threw the kitchen knife at her. The cat died.

The brahmin’s wife worried about this; she needn’t have. Her husband decided instantly that his wife was more powerful than the cat had ever been.  He made her his goddess. She hated it. She had to sit absolutely still. One day when she shifted her knees a little, the Brahmin hit her so hard she was knocked unconscious. He did his best to revive her, but it was evident to him that she wasn’t all that powerful. He must be the most powerful one! He must look within.

When he did so, he understood at last that it was the Divine Power – the Great Force or  Maha Shakti – within him and in all things that ought to be venerated. He learnt to respect himself and the whole of creation. Gradually the small gods returned to their household, and in the course of time both husband and wife achieved liberation.

(Mahashakti)

CHAIN: man worships bronze god - rat - cat - wife - self

May 17. Story of the Day: Suniti Namjoshi's The Cat Shrine

Today's story is something special: Suniti Namjoshi, whom I recently became acquainted with thanks to her ingenious new novel, Aesop the Fox, has contributed a modern chain tale of her own devising. It is the first original story included in this project!

Even better: there is an invitation for readers to add their own chain inside the story. With that invitation, Suniti has anticipated what is my own long-term goal for this project, which is to inspire people to write their own modern chain tales and, if they want, to share them at this site.

And for people who want to find out more about Suniti Namjoshi and her career as a writer and storyteller, I've created an author page here: Suniti Namjoshi. For more of her stories, I highly recommend The Fabulous Feminist: A Suniti Namjoshi Reader.

Thank you so much, Suniti!

And for previous stories-of-the-day at this site, just click here.

THE CAT SHRINE

In a small town in western India there’s a shrine to a saintly cat. It’s said of this cat that she never displayed anger no matter what the provocation, at least not after she had taken her vow. Cats are not worshipped in India. They are in no way regarded as particularly sacred, and there have been no divine incarnations that anyone knows about.  That’s what makes this story so extraordinary, but, as it happened quite recently, it may be easily verified.

One day the cat got so tired of being told to drink up her milk and eat up her biscuits, which she disliked, that she lashed out at her mistress. She hadn’t meant to scratch her, let alone draw blood. But she did draw blood and the scratch got infected. A doctor was summoned and the cat’s mistress was given antibiotics. The poor woman was allergic to them and died. The doctor was held responsible, a case was brought against him and very soon he lost all his patients. He committed suicide. The cat was appalled by what was happening.

The doctor’s wife, who was now destitute, took to begging with her six children trailing behind her. They had no practice and were no good at it; and so one by one they died. The townspeople felt that the least they could do was cremate them all on a makeshift pyre. As this was done hastily, the fire spread throughout the town, and caused havoc.

[Invitation to add to the chain of events here.]

The cat felt awful. Much that shouldn’t have happened had happened and would happen, and much that might have happened would never happen now – and all this because she had scratched her mistress.

She resolved never to be angry again. The rain might fall on her, the sun beat down on her, people might say what they liked to her and dogs bark at her, she would not protest. She wouldn’t even snarl, she would just sit there sphinx-like and look serene.

And that’s what she did. People would come up to her and she would look at them with her beautiful, emerald eyes. Gradually they began to bring flowers and saucers of milk and snacks she could eat if she felt like. The story spread that if she happened to blink while they were sitting at her feet, it meant that their wishes would be granted. A shrine was erected when at last she died.

People visit it regularly, only now they have no way of knowing if their wishes will be granted. They’re working on it. They say to each other, “A good deed or a bad deed can lead to a good thing or a bad thing. There’s just no telling.”  And indeed, that has become something of a motto, if not a moral.

This doesn’t mean that the good townsfolk go about committing bad deeds with abandon. They don’t. They spend most of their time sitting at the Cat Shrine trying to understand what it all means. Then they make up stories.

(This painting, "Carpet Cat" by J. Sharkey Thomas, has a story of its own: "The rug was intended for the floor, but when I draped it above a shelf to analyze it, 'Ludvig', one of my regular models, immediately made himself at home on it, - and insisted on being painted thus." Painting for sale at Nature Artists.)


CHAIN: cat scratches - woman dies - doctor sued - doctor suicide - family begs - family dies - pyre fire