The Buffalo Demon

Clang-Clang goes the school bell.

Abu runs home after school to announce that holidays are here again, this time for twelve whole days. But, Oh! My goodness! Why is the drawing room in such a mess? Furniture lying upturned, odds and ends scattered around and here is a crowd of multicoloured clay dolls big and small. Mother is standing right in the middle, her long hair bundled tight, her saree tucked up and a worried look on her face. "Hurry with your tea and run out to play", she calls out.

Is mother playing all by herself? Suddenly Abu knows the answer. After all his school has closed for vacation.

"This is the Ten-day Festival! And you are making a display of dolls!" he shouts. "I will help you Amma, I want to build steps and arrange the dolls and make a park and do everything." In a twinkling the idlis and the milk vanish into Abu's tummy. He rushes back, knocking over a chair and tumbling over the rolled up carpet in his eager progress.

Mother has to calm him down before they begin to arrange the furniture for the display of dolls, which is the most important part of the ten-day festival.

First they push the big table up against the wall, then place a desk right next to it. That is the second step. "Are you tired Abu?" asks mother. "No, I am not tired at all," Abu gasps.

He helps carry a small table from the kitchen for the third step. There are steel trunks for the fourth and a wooden plank for the fifth step. Abu has hurt his foot and jammed his fingers twice. Does he fuss? Hardly.

When mother goes to fetch the big white bedsheet, Abu disappears. She spreads it nearly, without a single wrinkle, over the base. She turns to start arranging the dolls on each level.

But what is this? The sheet has slid to the ground, and Abu jumps up from under the table with a loud "Peek-a-Boo!"

Well it has to be done all over again, this time with Abu's tugs and pulls.

"All right. Now which doll do you want right on top. It has to be a big one," says mother.

Abu looks carefully at the many dolls, each a god or a goddess from the legends his grandmother has told him. There is Siva wearing a garland of skulls and a tiger skin. His wife is the green Parvati draped in a purple saree. Next comes a peacock with its magnificent tail outspread, proudly carrying their warrior son, the handsome Muruga. Elephant -headed Ganesha stands by, smiling at Saraswati, the goddess of learning, and Lakshmi, the goddess of prosperity, both seated on lotuses, one white and the other red. There are many Krishnas to choose from-all bright blue-one leaning on a cow and playing the flute, another dancing on the five-hooded serpent Kaliya, a magnificent image of Krishna driving the hero Arjuna into battle on a chariot drawn by four white horses. Abu loves the baby Krishna crawling happily, about to lick the ball of butter in his hand! Some groups form scenes from the well-known myths of Rama and Sita. There are also policemen, soldiers, and even a bald-headed, pot-bellied grocer.

Abu points to the biggest figure. It is a fierce looking goddess of many arms, each holding a weapon. She is about to slay a man with the head of a buffalo.

"Put that right on top," Abu's voice quivers a little.

Mother looks surprised. "A very good choice, Abu! Do you know this whole festival celebrates the victory of this goddess over the terrible demon?"

"Tell me the story properly," Abu begs.

"Later," promises mother as they get on with their task. Abu directs all the arrangements, changing his mind ever so often.

"I want the policeman next to Saraswati. Whenever anyone does not study, she can tell the policeman to put him in jail."

"Put the parrot next to Muruga. It can make friends with the peacock." He also wants the soldier to guard baby Krishna when his mother goes to work!

The tableau is almost done when mother places the fat merchant on ground level, with little wooden vessels around him. She fills each with grains and seeds like wheat, rice, lentils, mustard. Chillies too find a place.

Abu claps his hands. " I know," he grins, "it is a shop." The fat wife sits next to the grocer, selling gaudy-looking fruits. The potted plants are dragged in to make an enclosure on both sides of the tableau.

"Tring-ring-ring!" goes the doorbell. It is Akhila, Abu's elder sister, back from her computer class.

"Oh Amma! You have finished it all! I wanted to help too." Peering at the rows of dolls she begins to put them in different places. "It is crazy to have the policeman near a god!" she laughs.

Abu starts screaming. "I don't want you to touch hi, GO AWAY!"

"Now that is quite enough," mother scolds them. "All these years we did the tableau as Akhila liked. This year it is Abu's turn. But Akhila can still do the rice-patterns on the floor, the festoons above, and make a park in that corner."

Akhila is fourteen and she knows that mother is fair. After all, Abu is barely five years old and has just begun to learn to do things with others.

Brother and sister skip out into the garden to fetch a pail of sand to make a park. There is the wire fence to be put up first, and the sand to be strewn in the square within. Of course, Abu manages to spread as much sand outside.

And whatever does this cardboard box contain? Mother has just brought it down from the loft. Why, they are tiny animals - lion, tiger, giraffe, monkey, deer, bear, fox and rhinoceros! There are little white ducks and a black swan in shinning glass. A pelican! And that is crane standing on one leg with a fish in its mouth!

"Tell you what," says Akhila, "we will put these animals all over the park and cage them in with matches. Just stick the matches up around each animal, like this." Abu is nimble-fingered, he learns quickly, though at times he topples both animal and match sticks. Every time he does that he wants to bawl, but when Akhila chuckles he cannot help but gurgle back.

Akhila charts out roads - straight ones, curved ones, zigzag ones. There are little plastic boys and girls to walk on the roads. There is a wooden swing, a slide and a seesaw for the children's corner.

Mother lays an old round mirror flat in the middle of the park. When she places the black swan on it Abu springs up in glee. "It is a pond! A pound in the park!" Look sharp, Abu, what else can you put there? The crane on the shore of course, and the pelican. Oops! It goes upside down in the water. "Catching fish," Abu explains.

The park looks bare without trees and grass. But mother has a surprise. She brings a tray triumphantly to the children. It has fresh leafy sprouts looking like plants, very small, but big enough for the park.

"I grew them for you," she says. "I put sesame and coriander seeds in the mud and sprinkled water for three days, and here you are!"

Akhila and Abu use a flat spoon to pick up and spread the sprouts all over their park. Soon it begins to look like a forest. "I wish I could shrink and explore the park," sighs Abu.

Once the mess is swept up, Akhila begins to draw lovely designs on the floor before the tableau, using ground rice paste. She gives it a maroon edging, brightening it further with blobs of turmeric paste here and there. Abu sits by, admiring her work, guarding it from getting smduged before it dries.

The next day the children make lots of festoons of fresh mango leaves, strung on a jute thread. Tender palm leaves, cut and twisted into decorative shapes, are hung in between. Just look at Abu with his tongue thrust out! He is learning to poke the stem into the middle of the mango leaf without tearing it, and with the jute string running through! Father puts up the green and cream festoons all round the room and at the doorway.

It is evening now. All the oil lamps are lit. (Abu had rolled their cotton wicks.) The room looks simply gorgeous. Not like their home, but a magical land of grandmother's tales.

Many finely dressed ladies come to visit. Wearing mother's silk saree and jewels, a grown-up looking Akhila welcomes them with "kumkum", sandal paste and flowers. Some of them sing, others talk, and every one enjoys the tangy lentils and the pink coconut sweet that mother serves out. Many children come to admire the display of dolls and among them are Abu's friends from school and the neighbourhood. How they giggle and chatter! They like the park best. And really, it looks quite marvelous. Father has lit up its roads with tiny coloured lights and put up a music box, which plays jolly tunes.

As each person is ready to leave, a small boy runs up to hand out a little bag that he has helped to pack. It has betel leaves, turmeric root, arecanut and a sweet lime.

Who can this little boy be? He wears a blue silk cloth round his waist with a yellow scarf to hold it in place. His arms are smeared with sandal paste and he has a long scarlet mark on his forehead. A crown glitters on his head, a jaunty peacock feather sticking up from it. He wears a chain of pearls. Why, it must be little Krishna, the god who loves to frolic with children and play many pranks!

Well, when the last guest leaves, mother gives Akhila a hug and then scoops up little Krishna. She tosses him up and as she catches him says, "Thank you both for helping me so well."

By this time Krishna's cardboard crown and peacock feather have fallen off, the pearl chain is broken, the sandal paste all smudged. The blue silk is about to slip off.

No matter! It is time for a warm bath, hot supper and bed after the exciting day.

There are nine more days of the doll's festival left, with visitors, outings, fancy dress and many good things to eat. And tomorrow mother is going to tell Abu the thrilling story of the buffalo demon and how he was destroyed by the great goddess-on-the-lion.

The Buffalo Demon