The Tale of Bib Garazmaej
by
K. N. Kaul Folk-tales
encapsulate our unrecorded past and listening to them enables us to go
on sort of a voyage of self discovery. These tales connect the past with
the present, showing us glimpses of our forefathers, their passions and
prejudices, joys and heartaches, their sufferings and sorrows. Being their
latest editions, we, of the present generation are keen and equally curious
to meet them and listen to them. Brushing off these tales as cheap and
puerile stuff will deprive us and our coming generations of a rich source
material of our social history and cut us as under from our cultural mores
and traditions.
The characters
in these tales are thumb-nail sketches, hurriedly drawn, as it were, but
their outlines are recognisable. The situations are down-to-earth though
somewhat constricted in scope and development. Having travelled over the
centuries from the mouth to the ear and again from the ear to the mouth,
the stories have, surprisingly, retained their charm even to this day.
Some sparkle with wit and humour while others end up as tragedies, mostly
comedies, all evocative of our own times, now long past.
Repository
of Ethos
Folklore, legends,
ballads, fables, mythological stories and even proverbs are repositories
of ethos of a particular ethnic group, shaped by its cultural uniqueness,
regional geographic limitations and political vicissitudes over the times,
but the themes and messages are universal. We may, if we like, sift the
realities from the supernatural elements or intervention of divine personages
and fairies and elfs which have found their way in these tales, but these
do not in any way garble the basic essentials of the cultural mores of
the specific group. After reading these tales, a picture emerges, crisp
and clear, of the tapestry of life of those ages. Lest we lose touch with
our own cultural heritage, currently known as 'Kashmiriat' whatever that
stands for, an attempt is made to retell these tales, retaining their original
form.
The tale
of Bib Garazmaej
To begin with,
the tale of Bib Garazmaj that follows will surely be told on the occasion of the annual
'Pann' in Kashmiri Hindu households, which falls in the lunar
fortnight of Bhadoon (August-September), by the matriarch of the family,
to those present at the Pooja. The tale is an emphatic assertion of the
intervention of divine mercy in the reversal of misfortunes of those who
have faith and submit but inflicts terrible retribution to those who are
haughty, arrogant or non-believers. The characters in this tale, mother
and daughter, specimen of simple rural folk, wallowing in extreme poverty
and misery on the one hand, and on the other a king, haughty and credulous,
are painted in simple black and white with no sophistication. Fortune takes
twists and turns with sudden jerks and everything turns green after a long
drought.
Long, long
ago, in a certain village, situated at the foot of hillock on the outskirts
of the city of Srinagar, Kashmir, there lived a woman with her unmarried
daughter. There in the village no one was poorer than his neighbours and
as the saying goes, each family had a bit of land and livestock - under
their nails and in their hair. But this woman (no name has been assigned
either to the woman or to her daughter in the tale) was so poor that life
for her had become a purposeless endurance and an agony that showed in
distorted mouths and famished eyes of both, mother and daughter. In fair
weather, they would collect firewood from the nearby jungle and by selling
the same keep off the wolf from the door which had broken down long ago.
It was the
month of Bhadoon. On a Sunday falling on Vinayak Chaturthi, while in the
jungle collecting wood, they saw some smoke curling up at some distance.
Curious, they approached the place and there found a small group of men,
women and children baking/frying 'Roths' (sweet cakes). Both, mother and
daughter sat at a distance and observed wilh interest prayers being offered
to goddess Bib Garazmaej by the group. They were surprised when some cakes
were offered to them also by way of 'Prashad'. On enquiry, they were told
that whosoever celebrated 'Pann' on Vinayak Chaturthi, the fourth day of
lunar fortnight of Bhadoon with devotion, goddess Bib Garazmaej blessed
him or her and rid her devotees of all troubles and misfortunes.
Mother and
daughter on reaching home were lost in thought. Both were united against
their common enemy - hunger and poverty and both had found the magic wand
to overcome it. But the lack of means to celebrate the function brought
to their hearts feelings of shame, impotence and despondency which belong
to the persecuted and dispossessed. Dogged persistence and perseverance sometimes are born of these emotions. Not wanting to let go the auspicious
day, they went to the royal stables the same day and after collecting some
horse-dung, washed it and sieved it Thus they were able to collect just
a handful of grains of wheat. Lambent pleasure at this find goaded them
on and presently they were able to bake a small 'roth' which is called 'Kanknivor' and other cakes they made of
cow-dung. Surrendering their will
entirely to the divine power, they covered the cakes with a piece of cloth
and bowed their heads to Bib Garazmaej, the divine motha offering grass
for flowers. Lo and behold! When they uncovered the cakes, they had all
turned into gold.
Mother and
daughter now turned the corner and the tide in their fortunes led them
on to the golden gates of the palace of the king of Kashmir (again, no
name has been assigned to him in the story), who, bewitched by the beauty
of the girl offered himself as a suitor. The mother was too happy to refuse
the proposal and the marriage was celebrated with royal pomp and show.
On the next
Vinayak Chaturthi, the lady, now that she was the chief queen, sought permission
to celebrate 'pann' from the king, who promptly granted the request. After
the Pooja, prashad was sent to the king, who was sitting at that time in
the company of lesser queens. These queens were jealous of the new queen
and found the opportunity as Godsend. They told the king to throw away
the cake as the pooja smelt of witchcraft meant to harm him. It was only
due to her black magic that the new queen was able to attain such an exalted
position. The credulous king was convinced and in a fit of rage threw away
the 'Prashad' and even trampled upon it.
Retribution
Swift retribution
followed. A rebellion by the army dethroned the king, who found himself
behind bars. The poor queen escaped to the village to her mother and was
back to wherefrom she had started. Mother and daughter sat like lifeless
cargo at the threshold of their hut remembering goddess Bib Garazmaej in
their hour of distress.
The king saw
goddess Bib Garazmaej in a dream whose angry countenance was too much for
him to bear. The apparition rebuked him for showing disrespect to the holy 'Prashad' - a grave sacrilege committed by him. The king begged for forgiveness
and was told to celebrate 'Pann' with reverence which alone would atone
for his sin. The king sent a message secretly to his queen, who promptly
performed Pooja, Soon, with the help of his loyal soldiers, the king was
able to snuff the rebellion and restore his power over his kingdom.
Here the story
ends.
May the omnipresent
Goddess Bib Garazmaej restore us our honour and self-respect, our homes
and hearths the way she in Her charity, benevolence and kindness did to
the king.
If we accept
the existence of Evil as a fact of life which we cannot explain, surely
we must accept God's mercy which too descends upon us mysteriously.
Source: Koshur
Samachar
|
