Folktales from Bengal

by Soham Saha

  “Great,” the vixen hissed, “We’re going to die now, aren’t we?” But she began to pinch the children anyways. The puppies woke up, startled, and began to scream their voice boxes out. The tumult could be heard from even farther than before.

  The fox said, in the same, scary voice, “Tell them to be quiet, dear. They would fall sick if they scream like that.”

  “I think they smell a tiger, dear.” The vixen screamed over the noise. “You have to hunt it down this time.”

  The fox screamed back, “No need to go hunting, dear. I had told their uncle, the monkey, to bring them in a tiger. Look, here he comes. Quick, bring me my Jhopang, I’ll make a Bhotang out of it.”

  The monkey was feeling very brave till this point. But hearing about the Jhopang and the Bhotang, he could not stand there anymore. In a great jump, he climbed on top of the nearest tree.

  And the tiger? He ran so fast this time, that all anyone could see of him was a black-orange blur.

  The fox and his family lived happily ever after.

  The Foolish Tiger

  A fox used to live near a king’s cattle farm. Every day, he would look at the fat goats that walked about, and his mouth watered. But he never could lay his claws on one of them. The goat herders were always looking after them.

  One day, the fox could not take it anymore. He started to dig a hole from his cave towards the enclosure where the goats were kept. He dug for three days and nights, until finally, he dug his way into the farm. Unfortunately, the goat herders were sitting there in a circle, chatting about their lives, when he burrowed right in the centre of them.

  The goat herders wasted no time in tying the fox up. They tied it to a pole, and said, “It’s too late today, but tomorrow morning, we’re going to have some fun with it, before we kill it, that is.”

  After the herders were gone by, the fox was sitting with its head between its front paws, when a tiger was passing by.

  It saw the fox and asked, “What are you doing sitting all alone here, fox?’

  This gave the fox an idea. “Why, I am getting married, can’t you see?”

  The tiger was very surprised now. “Really? Who’s the bride? Where are all the people?”

  “The bride is the king’s daughter. The people will come in the morning. They went to get her.”

  “Why are you all tied up?”

  “Because I don’t want to get married. They tied me up so that I don’t run away.”

  “Really? Why don’t you want to get married?”

  “I don’t feel like it today.” The fox replied.

  “Why don’t you tie me up in your place and run away? I’ll do you a favour and marry the princess.”

  “Fine. Untie me and the princess is all yours.”

  The tiger untied him, and the fox tied up the tiger real good. Before he ran off, he told him, “Remember, all of your in-laws are going to come tomorrow. They are going to poke some fun at you, all in good spirit. Don’t you get angry, okay?”

  “Of course. I can take a little joke. I am getting married to the princess, after all.”

  The fox went away laughing, and the tiger waited patiently for the princess.

  In the morning, the goat herders came back with rods and sticks. The tiger thought, “There. My in-laws are coming. Now they’ll do some mischief, and I am going to laugh out loud.”

  The goat herders were coming to punish the fox. But now, finding the tiger, they were in a bit of disarray. Some wanted to run away. Others said, “Look. He’s all tied up. What harm can he do?”

  Someone took a large brick, and threw it at him.”

  The tiger said, “Haha. Hehe. Hoho.”

  Another poked him with a stick.

  The tiger said, “Hehe. Hoho. Haha.”

  Then someone poked him with a spear.

  The tiger said, “Ouch. Haha. I get it. You are my in-laws.”

  Someone poked him again with the spear.

  The tiger was angry now and said, “Darn it. I don’t want to get married anymore.”

  He tore the ropes and left.

  Neither the fox nor the tiger were seen near the goat farm again.

  The Tiger and the Palanquin

  The fox and the tiger were the best of buddies. One day, the fox invited the tiger to his home for dinner. All through the morning he hunted small animals, cooked, and prepared the most delicious meal there could be. But then he got greedy, and ate it all up, and there was nothing left.

  When the tiger came to the dinner, the fox let him sit in a cushy spot in his cave, and said, “You just wait for a while, friend, and I will check up on the other guests.” Then he left his cave, and did not return till morning. The tiger waited all night, and in the morning, went back to his cave, cursing the fox on his way.

  The next night, the tiger invited the fox for dinner. The fox came hoping for a good treat, because the tiger was known for his tendency to hunt large prey. But today, the tiger gave him only the strongest and hardest bones of the animals he hunted. The tiger chewed through the bones with ease, crushing and enjoying his meal, while the fox struggled with a single rib.

  “Enjoying the meal, my friend?” The tiger asked.

  “Just as you had enjoyed yours in my home, my friend.” said the fox, still trying to make a dent in the bone.

  “Here, let me help you with that,” said the tiger, and smacked on the fox’s head so hard, that it broke half of his teeth.

  “I am very disappointed in you, friend. It seems that you are not really indulging yourself.”

  “I think I have indulged enough.” The fox got up and left, cursing the tiger. He swore by his remaining teeth that he would take revenge for this.

  A few days later, the fox found a beautiful sugarcane field by the forest. Because he could not eat anything solid, he feasted upon the sugarcane juice, and started ruining the crop. The ones he did not chew up, he left broken.

  Very soon, the farmers set up a meeting to decide what to do with the fox. They decided to trap it and then beat it to death. They built a trap for the fox. It looked like a small room, with a few sugarcanes inside as bait. Once the fox went in, the room would snap shut, and the fox would be trapped.

  Meanwhile, the fox was observing them at their work, and laughing to himself, for this was what he had planned all along. Once the trap was finished, the fox went back to the tiger.

  “Tiger, guess what? The king’s son is getting married tomorrow. I got invited to sing, and you are invited as well. They even sent a palanquin for you to take you to the festival and the party. Will you come?”

  “Of course I will. Who lets go of such a great opportunity? Where is this palanquin?”

  The fox led him to the trap-house. The tiger walked around it, suspicious.

  “If this is the palanquin, where are the palanquin bearers?”

  “The bearers are on their way. They will be here in the morning.”

  “Where is the palanquin-staff they lift it by?”

  “They will bring the staffs in with them, and they will have a lot of staffs, too. Don’t you worry.”

  “I don’t know, it seems strange to me.”

  “Fine, don’t go, I will go alone to the feast.”

  “No. no. Fine. I’m going in.”

  As soon as he entered the trap, the door shut itself.

  The fox cried, “Hey, why’d you close the door? How am I supposed to get in?”

  The tiger smirked, “You don’t need to get in, there is hardly enough room for me here. You skip this invite. I am sure the king has other sons.”

  “All right. It’s your funeral.” Said the fox, and hid in the bushes from where he could see everything.

  When the farmers came in, they were expecting a fox, but saw a large tiger trapped inside the trap. They were excited beyond telling, because those days, in villages, there weren’t many things to do for fun.

  Some ran away, some ran to get spears and sticks, and some went to get fire. Once the arrangemen
t was made, the tiger got the poked, burned, and beaten up so bad, he could not walk straight for days.

  If only he would learn not to be friends with the fox again.

  Buddhu and the Tiger

  Once upon a time in a distant village in Bengal, lived a farmer named Buddhu. Nobody ever knew why he was called Buddhu, which meant foolish, because he was probably the cleverest farmer in the village.

  Harvest time was near, and the rice had ripened up, filling up the fields with a sea of gold. As the farmers were reaping their harvest, crows flew in in large numbers, and began to peck at the grains. Buddhu had built a scarecrow to scare them off, but the crows had gotten used to it after a while. So, all day and night, he had to sit near his crop with a stick, running and chasing the crows off. Every day, by the time it was midday, he got very tired and cranky indeed. And because he had to stay and ward off the crows, he did not have time to do anything else, like buying sacks to store the rice, or beating the rice to separate the hay.

  One afternoon, he was thinking of a solution to the problem, when a swarm of crows landed on the field in front of him. Angry and tired, he ran towards them, waving his stick, and yelled, “If I get my hands on you just once, I’ll give you a stick-packed-hammering.”

  A tiger was hiding in the field, waiting to catch a farmer unawares, when he listened to these words. He had never heard of a stick-packed-beating, and became very curious. The more he thought about it, the more he felt that he needed to see it. He decided he would have to ask the farmer what it was before he would eat him. He jumped right in front of Buddhu, and said, “What is this stick-packed-beating? I want to see it.”

  Seeing the tiger, Buddhu was frozen with fear. But the tiger was calm and polite, and kept asking him, “Please show me this stick packed beating. I must see it.”

  Buddhu calmed down, and began to think, and soon, had an idea. “All right, Tiger. I’ll show it to you. But it takes a lot of preparation. And I am backed up in a lot of work. But with your help, I can finish early, and then show you.”

  “What do I have to do?”

  “Chase the crows off my field for a couple of weeks, while I get the rice ready for selling. Then I’ll show you.”

  The tiger agreed to the deal. For the next two weeks, he stayed in the field, chasing off the crows and pests, while the farmer cleared out his harvest.

  Once the rice was stacked in the barn, and the hay was stacked, the tiger went to Buddhu again.

  “It’s time, farmer, show me the stick-packed-beating.”

  “Sure. But it takes a lot of preparation. “

  “I’ll bring everything to you. What do you need?”

  “I need a big and strong sack, a long and strong string, and a very heavy club.”

  “That’s all? I’ll be back with them in an hour.” The tiger went to the market, and gave a mighty roar. The shopkeepers ran for their life. The tiger went to the flour shop, and picked up a few strong sacks.

  Next, he went to the field. A lot of cows were tied up there. The moment they saw the tiger, they tore up their strings and ran. The tiger picked up the strings.

  Lastly, he went to the wrestling arena. A lot of strong wrestlers were practicing there, and some of them were fighting with clubs. The moment they saw the tigers, they yelled “Mommy!” and ran, leaving their clubs. The tiger picked up a strong club.

  Now he returned to Buddhu, and said, “No more delay, farmer, show me the stick-packed-beating, and then I’ll eat you.”

  “Fine,” said Buddhu, “Get into this sack.”

  Just as the tiger entered the sack, Buddhu tied the sack up with the rope as tightly as he could. Then he picked up the club, and slammed it on the sack.

  “Help! What’s happening?” yelled the tiger.

  “I am showing you the stick-packed-beating,” said Buddhu, “Tell me to stop if you’re scared.”

  For a tiger, it was a thing of great shame to admit to be afraid. He said, “No, I was just a bit surprised. Do carry on.”

  Buddhu started beating up the tiger with all the strength he had. For the first few blows, the tiger did not make a sound. But after ten hits, he began to scream. After another twenty, he began to groan. After another fifty, he began to squeal. And after fifty more, there was no noise. Buddhu thought the tiger was dead now, so he took it out of the sack, dragged it to the field, and left it there.

  But the tiger had just passed out from the pain. When he woke up later, he had aches all over his body, and had sprouted a high fever. “I am going to take revenge on you, farmer, if that is the last thing I do.” He promised.

  He hid himself near Buddhu’s house for the next few days, wanting to ambush him when he got out. But it was winter already, and Buddhu rarely left his hut. So one night, the tiger went to the hut and knocked the door, saying in a very soft voice, “My good man, can you give me some fire, so I can smoke.”

  Buddhu felt something was funny about the voice, and peeked through a hole. When he saw the tiger, he was pale with fear, but he did not give up yet. He said, “It’s too cold, so I can’t open the door right now. Why don’t you slip in your cane from under the door, so I pass on a bit of charcoal for you? “

  The tiger did not have a cane, so he inserted his tail under the door. Immediately, Buddhu cut it off with a knife. The tiger yelped in pain, and ran away screaming.

  But Buddhu knew that the next night, all the tigers in the forest would come to take revenge. He was not surprised at all the next night, when he saw around twenty to thirty tigers walking up to his hut. Fearing for his life, he climbed up a coconut tree in his backyard. One of the tigers spotted him up there, and they surrounded him.

  They clawed the bark of the tree, and waited, and waited and waited. But it was nearly morning, and Buddhu showed no sign of climbing down.

  The cleverest of the tigers now made a plan. The biggest tiger would stay on the bottom, and the rest of them would climb on each other’s shoulders, making a tower of tigers to get to Buddhu.

  So it commenced. The biggest of the tiger was the one that had its tail cut off. He stayed at the bottom, and hoped there was enough left of Buddhu when he was brought down, to chew through. Because his tail was cut off, he was having great difficulty sitting. He saw a small hole in the ground, and put the stump of his tail in, to sit properly.

  The tower of tigers was getting high now, and Buddhu was getting ready to be eaten alive. But he would not go without a fight. There were ripe coconuts on the top of the tree, so he grabbed a big one, and thought he would hit one of the tigers the moment they got close enough.

  As it happened, the hole the tiger had put its tail into belonged to a crab. The crab smelled the blood on the tail, and crawled up to it. Just as the tiger at the top reached its claw to get Buddhu, the crab pinched the tail of the tiger at the bottom, right where it hurt the most. The tiger at the bottom jumped up in pain, and Buddhu smashed the skull of the top tiger with the coconut. The tower collapsed, and it was raining tigers.

  The tiger with the cut tail yelped, “There’s a Buddhu on the tree, and there’s a Buddhu in the hole.”

  And Buddhu started to throw down one coconut after another on them, yelling, “Die, you stupid tigers. You don’t know who you’re messing with.”

  And the tail-cut tiger ran away as fast as he could, with the rest of the tigers following suit. They never came to bother Buddhu again.

  The Tiger Groom

  A Brahmin lived in a tiny hut in a village. He was very poor, and had to beg from morning to night to provide food for his family. He lived with his wife and little daughter. With whatever he collected in a day, they could barely eat one meal.

  One day, the little girl went to the neighbour’s house to play, and saw the children eating payesh, a sweet dish made with rice and milk. She wanted some, but they chased her out. She went home crying to her mother saying, “I want to eat payesh, I want to eat payesh.”

  This broke the woman’s heart. They could barely eat thre
e meals a day. How could she make payesh for her daughter? She told her husband what had happened when he got back. He smiled and said, “Okay, let me see what I can do.”

  He went to the leader of the village, who was a kind man. The moment he heard of the Brahmin’s troubles, he gave him a kilogram of rice, two litres of milk, some sugar and ghee.

  The Brahmin’s wife made such a delicious payesh that evening that the sweet smell travelled for miles. A crow sniffed it and thought, “I must eat whatever is making this beautiful aroma.” he flew to the Brahmin’s rooftop, and waited there, thinking, “I’ll get all the leftovers when they are done.”