KALAPAHAR
A short story by Tarashankar Bandyopadhyay
translated from Bengali
by Subhamay Ray
There is nothing more
irritating in the world than to make an obstinate person amenable to reason. If
this stubborn character is an adult and not a child, it becomes all the more
calamitous. If the child asks for the moon and you give it candy in place of the
moon, the child is consoled. If it is not calm yet and you rebuke, the child
begins to cry and then sleeps peacefully. But an obstinate adult just won’t see
reason, and like the proverbial pertinacious man, will not give up his stand.
Jashodanandan couldn’t make his father see reason however much he tried with
many arguments and logic. At last he became badgered and said, “Then do
whatever you have decided. Buy and bring two elephants.”
Perhaps the imaginary
elephants shook their trunks and sprinkled water on Ranglal
who became livid with a rage. He kept looking at his son’s face, and then
suddenly thrashed the hookah on the ground, broke it and said, “Take this!”
Jashoda
stared at his father’s face in disbelief.
Ranglal
said, “Elephant! Elephant! You scoundrel, when did I say that I would buy an
elephant?”
Jashoda
didn’t reply, even he was in a rage — he sat motionless.
Perhaps Ranglal did find a reply to that ‘elephant-buying’ episode
at last. He said again with a hint of ridicule in his voice, “Why an elephant?
Rather buy two goats, we will cultivate all the land.
Bunches of rice plants would resemble clumps of bamboo,
the ear of the corn would be three hands long. When a farmer’s son gets
education, he becomes such a fool! Now you scoundrel, can you till the land
without a good cow? The plough will penetrate into the soil an arm’s length,
you’ll get a bucketful of soil as soft as smooth flour — only then will you get
rice, only then the land will give you harvest.”
Ranglal
had decided that this time he would buy a cow. Since the father and the son had
difference of opinion regarding this purchase, they were having arguments for
the last few days. Ranglal was quite a big farmer, he
owned quite a bit of land — and the lands were all first class. He took great
care of the cultivation. He was endowed with such a strong and large physique,
and he laboured as hard as a monster to plough the
land — like a miser, he never left even a drop of strength with him. Perhaps
for this reason he had a fancy for a good cow. He needed a perfect cow. If it
was not young with a glamorous skin, well-formed horns, a
tail like a snake and if it didn’t possess many other qualities, it wouldn’t be
to his liking. One more thing — no one in the district should possess a cow
like his. He hung a garland on the cow’s neck with a string of bells, he rubbed
all over its body twice a day with torn jute clothes, he massaged the horns
with oil; at times he even took care of its legs. If someday they worked too
hard, Ranglal would say, “Ah, that’s the animal that
belonged to Lord Krishna!”
Since the crops failed
for the last few years and he had to bear the expenses of sending his son Jashoda to school, Ranglal became
ill-off a little. But Jashoda had passed the
Matriculation that year and the rice crop the year before was not too bad.
Hence Ranglal had vowed that this time he must have a
good cow. Only last year he bought a pair of cows but Ranglal
had no compassion for them. The cows weren’t small,
neither could you call them of low breed. But many in this region had better
cows than those.
Jashoda
said, “Let’s use these for this year. Let me do a job and if we have a good
rice crop this year too, you can buy a cow next year. You can’t get a good cow
for less than two hundred rupees — where will you get so much money now?”
Ranglal
didn’t know from where the money would come but he must have a cow.
In the end Ranglal’s doggedness won. Jashoda
didn’t protest any longer because he was annoyed. Somehow the money was
procured. He sold the pair of cows he had and got a hundred rupees, Jashoda’s mother provided the rest. She told Ranglal in secret, “What do you gain quarreling with him?
Go and buy a cow. If you bring it home, he won’t have anything to say.”
Ranglal
was pleased. He said, “You have said it fine. Let me do this. Then let him bang
his head somewhere to express his grief.”
Jashoda’s
mother said, “Sell these two cows and take these. Pawn these items and buy a
cow. How does the cowshed look without a good cow?”
She handed over her
few ornaments to Ranglal. Ranglal
was exuberant in his joy and the way he adored his wife then would not be
considered decent at all at their age. He gave Jashoda’s
mother a few kisses on her lips and forehead. Strange was it because Jashoda’s mother didn’t appear to be very shy; rather it
seemed that she was delighted.
So, Ranglal collected the money and he took a vow to go to the
weekly market at Panchundi village where cattle were
sold. He will choose two cows to his liking. They would be either as white as
milk or there would be two dark cows with white mouths.
Just when he was about
to enter Panchundi market, Ranglal
stood in amazement. Oh, oh! This is….! Oh my, there are thousands and thousands
here.
If it was not really
thousands, people brought about a thousand cows and buffaloes at Panchundi market. Men gathered in similar numbers. The
lowing of the cattle, the confused tumult of the multitude — what a strange
cacophony reverberated. The sun above was in the mid-sky. Where the cattle were
being bought and sold there was not a shade anywhere, but no one seemed to
care. Men roamed tirelessly. Ranglal merged into that
crowd.
The cows were all
together jostling at one place, a frightened look in their eyes. The
wholesalers were shouting like the peddlers — “There goes! Oh gone! This is a
tiger cub! An Arabian horse!”
Ranglal looked everywhere with a keen eye for what he
wanted.
Over there such a
hullabaloo rose that it became difficult to hear. It seemed as if there was a
riot. Ranglal went towards that side. Over there it
was the market of buffaloes. The dark-skinned ferocious-looking animals were
made to run all around without any respite. The whole-sellers were shouting
continuously and hitting the animals with big bamboo poles and the beasts were
running madly. Some of the buffaloes were resting in a pond. From the smallest
calf to the old buffalo, every beast was for sale. Some had lost their skin and
you could see slimy red ulcers on them. A little way ahead by the side of the
pond with mango trees all around, there was again a crowd. Ranglal
marched ahead to see what was there. A whole-seller was making his buffalo run
and all on a sudden the exuberant pole fell from his hand and flew to somewhere
near Ranglal. Ranglal felt
a bit annoyed, he took the pole in hand.
The whole-seller had no respite — he expressed how busy he was and said, “Give
me, hey, give the pole back to me!”
“Had it hit me…”
“Well, it could have hit you, perhaps you would have
bled a little, what else would have happened?”
Ranglal was dumbfounded…what else would have
happened?
“Give me brother, give it to me. It slipped out of my hand, please give it
back.”
The whole-seller finally expressed humility on looking at Ranglal
with attention.
When Ranglal was about to hand over the pole, he felt
a shiver within him. At the end of the pole he could see that the tip of a
needle protruded.
The whole-seller smiled and said, “That’s nothing to you. Please give it to
me.”
Ranglal looked at the pole well — indeed it was the
tip of a needle. Not a single needle but more than a couple. Suddenly he
remembered something he had heard — the whole-sellers have needles on the tip
of their poles and when they hit the buffaloes with those poles, they ran for
their life. Oh!
He let go a deep breath, the whole-seller said “Hey, will you buy? If you are
planning to buy a buffalo, come — I’ll give you a good buffalo, I’ll sell at a
cheap rate — hey…hey!”
Saying this he made
his buffaloes run again as if to show Ranglal.
“Oh dear, oh dear….bravo, my dear!”
Sometimes he even caressed the beasts.
Ranglal surged ahead onto the garden.
All around he could see a throng of buffaloes. These
were quite burly and they were not running around for nothing for there was no
one to make them run. Some of them were sitting and others were standing with
their eyes closed chewing the cud and lost in their rumination.
There were no cows in this garden. Ranglal returned,
came to the farthest end of the garden and then stopped. Is this a buffalo or
an elephant? Ranglal had never seen such a mammoth animal.
A few men were standing there too. One of them said, “Who will take this
buffalo, my dear?”
The whole-seller said, “It will be taken either by a king or a landlord or it
will be taken by a pauper who doesn’t have anything in his house. I have roamed
and seen quite a few markets. Let me see, I’ll go somewhere again with it.”
Someone else said, “What would a householder do with it? Who will hold the
plough when it will run? Try to find someone who can manage it.”
The whole-seller said, “Brother, man has tamed the tiger with his intelligence,
and this is only a buffalo. If the plough is big this beast will keep quiet. It
will plunge the plough one and a half arm’s length under the soil.
Ranglal was looking at those pair of buffaloes with
his sharp eyes glowing in praise. Goodness, goodness! The legs were shorter
compared to the body, it could lift a weight of twenty maunds
from chest-deep mud with a pole attached to those legs. What a polished and
dark skin! As dark as the touchstone. The look of the
horns was the most magnificent and the two were made in the same mould — as if
they were twins?
But would he be able
to pay their price? Okay, Let’s see. Let the market
close and the last man depart. Then we would see. Didn’t the whole-seller say
that he roamed quite a few markets and didn’t get a buyer? But money was not
the only concern, the greatest worry was the large
stomach of those beasts.
Ranglal
finally bought those two buffaloes, he couldn’t restrain himself. He got them
for the money he had; the whole-seller too got irritated when he had to roam
the markets — a lot of his money was staked on those animals. When he found
that Ranglal had no more with him, he agreed to give
the two animals to Ranglal for one hundred and
ninety-eight rupees. Ranglal’s face brightened. In
his imagination he could see the wide and praising eyes of his neighbours in the village. But the more he approached his
home, his enthusiasm waned and fatigue took over him. He feared his educated
son. Ranglal couldn’t breathe freely while answering
his questions. Moreover, it would not be easy to fill the stomach of these
large animals. Each of them would devour a large amount of straw as if they
were snuff.
His wife — Jashoda’s mother — what would she say? She became livid
when she would hear of buffaloes. Ranglal began to
think and ultimately got tired and his mind sometimes rebelled. Why, what was
his fear — whom would he fear? Whose home was this? Who was the owner of the
property? Whom would he have to listen to? Did anyone know how the cultivation
would be done? It seemed to Ranglal as if the
sleeping goddess Laxmi rose from out of the earth’s
bosom — if he could break the solid cover of the soil with the pull of his
plough, the mother of wealth would take her wicker-basket on her shoulders and
would sit on her throne to illumine the world. Knee-deep thick mud would smell
of the wet earth. The young rice plants would thrive and grow big in three
days.
But even this feeling
would not stay with him and he would again become timid thinking of the face of
his son and his wife. In his mind he began to compose words of flattery to
please them.
As soon as he reached
home he had a big smile and told Jashoda, ” I have really bought a pair of elephants, what you said
came true.”
Jashoda
thought perhaps his father had bought a pair of large and tall bullocks. She
said, “Such large cows are not good. The strong ones with knotty knuckles,
those who are not too high — they are good.”
A smile spread over Ranglal’s face and he said, “I
haven’t bought cows, I have bought buffaloes.”
“Buffaloes?” Jashoda was
surprised.
“Yes.”
Even Jashoda’s mother remarked, “Did you buy
buffaloes?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t smile like that please, my skin is burning, ” Jashoda’s mother brawled.
“Oh, oh, please see them once with your own eyes, then
tell me what you have to say. Bring the pitcher of water, bring turmeric, bring
oil and vermillion and in the name of the goddess Durga
take these to your home.”
Seeing everything Jashoda pulled a long face. He said, “Take them and now you
may have to pull the few bunches of rice straw covering the roof. Those are not
ordinary stomachs. Each is like a Kumbhakarna . They need food. Supply them food, but from where?”
Jashoda’s
mother was looking at those buffaloes. They might be awesome — but even then
they had a beauty — something that made men look at them. The buffaloes kept
their faces down but watched them with an oblique glance — below their dark
pupils the slightly reddish whiteness had been exposed a little. The look
seemed ferocious.
Ranglal said, “Clean their legs with water.”
“Oh dear! I can’t go near them.”
“No, no, no! Please come near. You don’t have anything to fear. Come here. They
are so quiet.
Jashoda’s mother went forward nervously. The
buffaloes let go a long breath and perhaps wanted to say something. Ranglal said, “Hey, beware! She is your mother. She will
give you the water from the boiled rice, the rice itself, she will give rice
bran. She is the mistress of the house, get to know her.”
Even then Jashoda’s mother retraced a few steps and
said, “No dear, put these oil and vermillion and turmeric on them. I can’t do
it. The beasts look like dark hills.”
Ranglal said, “You have said it well. Let us call one
of these Kalapahar (dark hill). This, this one is
heavier — this is Kalapahar. And what shall we call
the other one?”
He thought for a while and said, “And we will call this one Kumbhakarna.
Jashoda has said and rightly so.
Jashoda’s mother was happy too. But Jashoda wasn’t.
Ranglal was irritated. ” I can’t stomach a sullen
face. Even it be my guru’s or the Lord’s.”
Just at dawn Ranglal would ride on Kalapahar’s
back and he would chase Kumbhakarna to the bank of
the river to graze. They used to return at three o’clock. He didn’t do it only
to save straw. For him it became an addiction. Everyone at home was annoyed
with him for this — even Jashoda’s mother was
disgusted.
Ranglal smiled and said, “See how much worth of straw
do I sell this year. I’ll buy you an ornament simply by selling the straw.”
Jashoda’s mother said, “You think I don’t sleep
worrying over my ornaments. Do I singe you with fire everyday,
tell me?”
Jashoda said, “Either the snake or the tiger will eat
him some day.”
It was true. Snakes thrived near the river and sometimes even tigers lost their
way and reached the riverside. But none of these made Ranglal
worried. When he reached the river banks he would spread his towel under a tree
and lie down — the pair of buffaloes grazed. When they went a bit too far, he
would make a strange sound — Aan—Aan! That seemed
exactly like a buffaloe’s low. When Kalapahar and Kumbhakarna
listened to that call from afar, they would stop grazing, would raise their
heads and listen and then they would respond calling –Aan—Aan
— and would come back near him quickly swinging sideways. Sometimes they would
run. Coming near Ranglal they would raise their faces
as if to ask — why do you call us?
Ranglal would slap both on their cheeks and would
say, “Let me light a fire inside your stomachs. Will you reach a foreign land
while grazing? Stay near.”
The buffaloes wouldn’t venture again. There they would lie down, close their
eyes and chew the cud. At other times they would stand with their body
submerged under water up to the neck — again when Ranglal
would call them, they would come up all wet.
When he ploughed the field, Kalapahar and Ranglal would press the plough with all their might to the
bosom of the soil and would pull it without effort — that would make the big
and the heavy chunks of soil scatter on all sides of the plough. This action
would open a deep hole on the earth more than an arm’s length, they would fill
his large cart with rice crops more than a storey high — people looked in
wonder. Ranglal smiled.
Sometimes Kalapahar and Kumbhakarna
would create such a trouble. On some days who knew what discord happened
between them, they would stand face to face like two warring monsters inflated
with anger. They would bend down their heads, raise their horns and would begin
to hit their front paws on the ground, and then the battle would begin. No one
would have the courage to go near them then except Ranglal.
He would take an enormous bamboo pole in hand, and
would start beating the two fearlessly. The pair would then stand apart for
fear of being beaten. Ranglal would take them to task
that day, he would keep them locked in separate cowsheds and would make them
starve. Then he would bathe them separately, give them food that would fill
their stomach and then he would allow the two to meet again. Along with this he
would give his buffaloes a plethora of advices — Fie!
Why should you quarrel! You must live together peacefully.
Then after about three
years all on a sudden there was an accident one day. It was summer and Ranglal was absorbed in deep sleep on the bank of the river
in a bower covered by a bush. Kalapahar and Kumbhakarna were grazing a little away from him. Suddenly Ranglal, on hearing the strange sound of an angry growl,
opened his eyes, and his blood froze. Near the entrance of the deep shrub a
cheetah stared at him with a ferocious look. Its teeth came out in its greedy
ferocity — and Ranglal thought that perhaps the
cheetah was announcing his attack with that growl. Ranglal
wasn’t a coward — before this he was assigned responsible roles in the hunts
for the cheetah a few times. Ranglal could feel it
very well that due to the narrowness of the entrance to that bush the cheetah
was hesitating in entering it. Or it would have attacked him while he was asleep.
He quickly moved back towards the other side on all fours and somewhere about
the middle of that bush he hid himself behind a large tree and started calling
— Aan, aan, aan! Instantly came the reply, Aan, aan, aan!
The cheetah got startled and it retraced from the entrance of the bower and
when it looked on all sides with quick glances, it found Kalapahar
and Kumbhakarna approaching. The cheetah spread its
teeth and began to howl. Ranglal was watching the
strange look of Kalapahar and Kumbhakarna.
He had never seen such a terrible image of them. They were gradually moving
away from one another. Within a few moments the cheetah was impatiently moving
with Kalpahar and Kumbhakarna
on either side of him. It could feel danger. It was small — yet it was a cheetah.
Perhaps because of its impatience it suddenly jumped and landed on Kumbhakarna and immediately Kalapahar
attacked it with its raised horns. With one great blow of Kalapahar’s
horns the cheetah flew off from the back of Kumbhakarna
to a distance. The injured Kumbhakarna kept its head
bent and jumped on the cheetah with its raised horns like an insane. The horns
of Kumbhakarna were very sharp and relatively
straight — one of those horns entered the cheetah’s belly and it appeared as if
the cheetah got fixed in it. The cheetah in deadly pain bit the buffalo’s neck
with all its might. Kalapahar came from the other
side and thrust its horns on the cheetah. Even Ranglal
came out then and in tremendous excitement he began to bit the cheetah with his
bamboo pole as if he had lost his senses. In a while the two warring beasts
fell and rolled on the ground. Although the cheetah still had some signs of
life in it, it was rather feeble — only a few very feeble convulsions were felt
in its body. Kumbhakarna was lying and panting on the
ground — its gaze fixed on Ranglal’s face. Tears were
flowing rapidly from its eyes.
Ranglal began to cry like a child. Kalapahar started creating problems. He would make sounds
continuously with his Aan..Aan… he would low loudly and cry.
Ranglal said, “It can’t live without a partner. I’ll
have to buy another buffalo on the next market day.”
On the next market day he took pains and spent a long time in carefully
selecting a partner for his buffalo and bought it for a premium. He had to
spend a lot of money. One buffalo cost him a hundred and fifty rupees. But it
never became a true companion of Kalapahar. But this
buffalo was still younger, it would still grow. It appeared in the next few
years it would be equally strong. It only had four teeth and the rest were
still to grow.
Kalapahar became angry as soon as it saw the new
companion. He showed his horns and began to hit the ground with his hoofs. Ranglal immediately chained Kalpahar
and took it to a distance and remarked, “Don’t you like it? No, that won’t be
allowed. If you beat it, I’ll break your bones.”
He also chained the new buffalo, came inside the house and said to his wife, “Kalpahar got annoyed to see the new one. It is so angry.”
Jashoda’s mother said, “Poor dear, perhaps it
couldn’t forget Kumbhakarna. They loved each other
for a long time.” Saying this she looked at her husband and caught her breath
with a sudden smile. Ranglal smiled in return. He
looked around and whispered,” As it is there between you and me.”
“Shame on you, how do you talk! They are friends.”
“That’s true.” Ranglal admitted defeat but he
couldn’t help feeling delighted. Then he said, “Please get up. Come with me.
Bring water and oil and vermillion and turmeric.
Right then the cowherd came and said, “Sir, please come immediately. Kalapahar is about to kill the new buffalo.”
“What do you say? I have just put it under chains.”
Ranglal rushed out. The cowherd followed him and
said, “Master, it has uprooted the peg. How does it groan! Perhaps it has
killed the new one by now.”
When Ranglal reached the spot, he found that the cowherd hadn’t
exaggerated even a little. Kalpahar had uprooted the
peg along with the chain and it attacked the new buffalo still in chains with
extreme rage. The new one was weaker than Kalapahar, it was yet to attain adulthood. Moreover, being in chains,
it could only wail in pain helplessly. Ranglal began
to use his bamboo pole but even then Kalapahar was
undaunted. It was hitting the newcomer mercilessly. After much trouble when Kalapahar was brought under control, the new buffalo was
almost finished. Ranglal sat down helplessly with his
hand in his head.
Jashoda said, “We won’t keep it in the house any
more. Sell it. If you bring another partner, it will fight again. This buffalo
is in heat.”
Ranglal couldn’t reply. He was thinking in silence
that he had no answer to what Jashoda had said. He
had spoken the truth, Kalapahar
had lost its composure. If a buffalo would lose its composure once, it wouldn’t
be quiet ever again. Instead, it would gradually become more restless. But even
then tears would fill his eyes. A few days later the cowherd came and told him
“Sir, I won’t work any more. The way Kalapahar is raging, who knows, someday it can even kill
me.”
Ranglal said, “No, no, that is how buffaloes behave.
Come with me, let me see.”
Ranglal came and stood near Kalapahar.
The beast looked at Kalapahar with red and swollen
eyes and then put its face on to his lap. Ranglal
began to rub its head with tender affection.
But Ranglal couldn’t stay near Kalapahar
forever and keep it quiet. If anyone else reached near, the buffalo would show
its wild nature. Sometimes it would raise its head and say…Aan…Aan….Aan…
It lifted its head upwards and would look for Kumbhakarna.
It would snap the rope and would approach the river lowing.
If anyone other than Ranglal attempted to bring it
back, it would be aggressive.
The other day it killed a calf. This calf had a sweet relationship with both Kalapahar and Kumbhakarna. When
they used to chew their cud with filled stomach, this calf would come near them
and would eat fodder from their manger. At a tender age it would look for
mother’s milk under their stomach. But that day Kalpahar
wasn’t in a good mood and when the calf extended its mouth in front of him to
the manger, Kalapahar shoved it with a violent thrust
of its horns.
Jashoda didn’t wait for Ranglal.
He called a whole-seller and sold Kalapahar. The
buffalo was handed over for a very small price.
The whole-seller said, “Perhaps I am wasting these sixty rupees. Who will take
a buffalo in heat?”
Jashoda bargained a lot and could only hike the price
of the buffalo by five rupees. The whole-seller took Kalapahar
away. Ranglal looked down and sat in silence.
Aan…Aan….Aan….Ranglal was still sitting
silently. Hearing that sound he was startled. Really it was Kalapahar.
It had come back. Ranglal rushed to the beast. Kalapahar put its head onto the lap of its master.
The whole-seller returned and said, “Sir, please give my money back. I won’t
take this buffalo. Oh dear, dear, it would have killed me.”
It was known that Kalapahar did go with him some
distance. Then it stood in such a posture, that it was impossible for anyone to
make it move even a little.
The whole-seller said, “Sir, if I would raise my pole — dear me, what a glance!
Then it rushed in and chased me. I had to run for a mile to save my life. Then
it moved back and reached you panting for breath. Sir, please return my money.”
The whole-seller went away when he got his money back. Jashoda
said, “You do one thing. Please take it to the market.”
Ranglal said, “I can’t do it.”
“Who will take it if you can’t?”
Having no other alternative, Ranglal went at last. On
the way he cried a lot. He bought Kalapahar from this
market.
But he returned with a smile on his face. No one agreed to buy his buffalo.
That whole-seller spread such a bad reputation about his buffalo,
that no one would even come near it.
Jashoda said, “Then you should go to the market in
the town. Whole-sellers from these areas usually don’t go to those markets.”
Ranglal had to go. Jashoda
was an educated young man who earned; he had matured, Ranglal
couldn’t ignore his words. Moreover he couldn’t tell them with conviction to
let Kalapahar stay. It had caused such losses
already. The buffalo cost him one hundred and fifty rupees, then he had to pay
the additional cost of seven or eight rupees for atoning the killing of a cow.
The land could not be ploughed for this last month — that loss was beyond all
calculations. In the market of the town someone expressed eagerness and bought
the buffalo, a big landlord had ordered such a buffalo. He paid a good price —
one hundred and five rupees.
Ranglal said, “See brother, this buffalo was very
much attached to me. Let it remain as it is chained here. When I would go away,
you can take it away then. Otherwise it would call, perhaps it would create
nuisance.”
Tears were rolling from his eyes. The whole-seller smiled and said, “That’s
good! Let it stay here. You can go.”
Ranglal walked with quick steps, reached the station
in the town and boarded the train. He didn’t have the strength to return on
foot.
A little later the whole-seller pulled the rope that chained Kalapahar. Kalpahar was startled
to see him pulling and he looked everywhere and called…Aan…Aan…Aan…
He was looking for Ranglal. But where — where was he?
The whole-seller hit it gently with his pole and said, “Come, come.”
Kalapahar again called, “Aan…Aan…Aan”. It stood its ground. It
wouldn’t move.
The whole-seller again hit the beast. Kalapahar was
madly looking for Ranglal everywhere.
Where, where was he? He was not there, not there.
Kalapahar gave a violent pull and the rope flew from
the whole-seller’s hand, The buffalo ran.
This is the way. This is the way they came. It was running with its face upwards
and calling with all its might — Aan…Aan…Aan!
The whole-seller tried to gather a few men and stop it on the road but the
buffalo, hard to tame, ignored all the poles that were hitting its back, lifted
the man in front of it off the ground with a thrust of its horns, cleared its
way and ran off like one insane.
But what was it seeing? Those roads were completely unknown to it.
On the road in that town there were shops on both sides of the road and crowds
everywhere. What was it? A horse-carriage was coming.
In fear Kalapahar took a side lane.
The crowd raised an alarm. Whose buffalo is it? Whose? Oh dear….such a queer
shape….a strange low …
A motor car was coming. Kalapahar lost its senses. In
its mind’s eye it could see its home and was calling Ranglal
as loudly as it could. It destroyed a paan-shop on
one side of the road and went at the direction of the other.
The people on the road were running for life. Kalapahar
too was running for life. Within moments he injured two passers-by. Kalapahar was running and calling Ranglal
— Aan…Aan…Aan…But where did the buffalo find it then? Where was it
going? How far was its home?
Again that monstrous noise. That
unknown beast. Now the buffalo stood its ground to face its opponent.
The motor car came in search of the buffalo. It was the car of the police
officer. The news of a mad buffalo had already reached the police station.
The car halted. Kalapahar moved forward with
tremendous might. But before it could reach near, a terribly loud sound
reverberated. Kalapahar didn’t understand anything
except an extreme pain for a moment — then the buffalo staggered and fell to
the ground.
The officer put his revolver back to his holster, asked the constable to get
down and called the scavengers.
******************************************************************************************
Notes:
1. Kumbhakarna is the monstrous second brother of Ravana as described in the Ramayana. He used to keep awake
only for a day after sleeping for six months at a stretch. Hence,
figuratively, someone who sleeps much.
******************************************************************************************
[The original Bengali story was first published in the Bengali literary
magazine Desh, Year 5, Number 1, 20
November, 1937]
English Translation
Copyright © Subhamay
Ray