Bindu Subedi
Today too, Vijay, lovingly called ‘Viju’, did not want to take his meal. This pained me. He talked little. I made many attempts to make him talk, but he didn’t want to listen to a single word I spoke. He sat on the window, looking at rain falling at a distance. I looked on his face minutely; he looked fresher now, looking at scenes far away. It instantly occurred to me that I should have told him about far off things.
He turned to me and asked, “Mom, does rain soak the fox or not?”
I instantly understood what was there in Viju’s mind. For some time, I laughed to myself. Had I understood that earlier, no problem would have come. I said, “My child, a fox too is soaked. But its mother keeps it safe and cozy. She suckles it milk.”
“Where does a fox have its home, mummy?”
“In a cave, honey!”
“And if a fox finds children, what does it do?”
“Nothing!”
Viju was surprised. He stared straight at my face for some time and asked, “Does a fox ever love a human being? What does it do to little ones like me?”
Viju’s question put me at bay. Shooting questions one after another, he crawled up to me and in imagination, pressed himself against my bosoms, and covered himself with my shawl. I was soaked by the child’s love. I remembered a true incident that I had somewhere in my memory. I told him the same story:—
“At our home in Sabala, Tehrathum, there a woman called ‘Thuli’, working as a domestic help. You have seen her, haven’t you?”
With a cry of joy, he said, “Yes, I know her; I also know her daughter Parbati. You know; I was scared when she told a story last time. She had told me the story of a fox. Will you retell the same to me?”
“I will; I am telling you the same story. It’s not just a story; it’s a real incident. One day, Thuli went to the Friday Market with Parbati to buy stuffs. Parbati walked holding her mother’s hand. But in the crowd, she lost the hold of her mother’s hand, all of a sudden. Mother and daughter lost one another.”
Viju was sad; he asked pathetically, “What followed next, Mom?”
“Parbati took the third way, alone,” I continued. “Instead of taking the way homeward, she proceeded towards Jirikhimti. Seeing her walk alone, some people asked, ‘Where are you going, darling? Is there anyone with you?’ Parbati answered, ‘I am going home,’ but could not tell for sure where her home was. People thought she knew the way, but she was treading along a different path. By sunset, she reached Surke, a village on that route. That was quite far from her home. She went to a home near the trail and stood in front of the porch.
“Seeing her, someone asked, ‘Oh, whose child is she! How did she come here? Thank God, foxes spared her!’”
Viju was panicked. I said, “Listen further; try to know what happened next.”
“What happened next, Mom?”
“Parbati told the people that she was going homeward. The people asked her the name of her landlord, village and the parents. But, she could tell none. All she said was a single word ‘Hali Mela.’ People came to know that she was from Sabla.
“Back in Sabla, Parbati’s mother reached home, crying. Everyone around her was sad to hear her lamentation: ‘My daughter is lost.’ Her wailing made everyone sad. She doubted, ‘Perhaps a fox ate up my daughter. O, how much she must have cried! Where could the beast have taken my darling?’
“Wailing alone would do no good to Thuli! Your Giri brothers set out at night in search of Parbati. When people on the way said they had seen a girl walk towards Jirikhimti, they headed that way. Ultimately, asking a number of people on the way, they reached the place where Parbati had been kept.
“On seeing the Giri brothers, Parbati asked, ‘Brothers, why did you come?’
“Everyone around laughed.
“When the Giri brothers returned to Sabla with Parbati, her mother took her in her arms and said, ‘Darling! Didn’t the foxes do anything to you?’
“It’s possible that foxes saw Parbati; it too is possible that they didn’t see her. Viju, it is just a myth that animals harm people. Unless they are troubled, they do not harm anyone.”
Viju shouted out of happiness, “Can we play with a fox, Mom?”
I said, “No, we can’t. But, foxes are not our enemies. They have their own stories. When hungry, they go around in search of food. They also have young kids. If they are not fed, their mother’s are unhappy.”
Happy, Viju sat on the window and looked far and wide. I fed him his meal. He happily pressed himself against me, and ate.
Suddenly, he asked again, “Mom! If a fox loses its child, who goes to search for it?”
Rain was torrential outside. Only when Viju shook me with his knuckles, I was startled. I did not know how deep in thought I was.
[Bindu Subedi enjoys writing stories and research articles. She has published two collections of stories so far.]