A new book of fables by Suniti Namjoshi

The Mouse and the Lion

One day, a lion caught a mouse. “Spare me,” said the mouse, “I am so little and you are so big; but, who knows, perhaps some day I will be able to do you a favour.” The lion thought this funny and let the mouse go. But a few days later the very same lion was caught in a net. After a while the mouse came along. “Help,” called the lion, “Help, little mouse. Chew through these ropes. Remember, after all, that you owe me a favour.” The mouse started chewing and then suddenly stopped. “Why have you stopped?” roared the lion. “Well, I just thought of something,” said the little mouse, “You see, I think I have already done you a favour.” “You haven’t,” roared the lion. “Yes, I have,” said the mouse. “What?” roared the lion. “Well, you see,” said the mouse, “I haven’t killed you.”

Swayamvara

Once upon a time, there was a little princess who was good at whistling. “Don’t whistle,” said her mother. “Don’t whistle,” said her father, but the child was good at it and went on whistling. Years went by, and she became a woman. By this time she whistled beautifully. Her parents grieved. “What man will marry a whistling woman?” said her mother dolefully. “Well,” said her father, “we will have to make the best of it. I will offer half my kingdom and the princess in marriage to any man who can beat her at whistling.” The king’s offer was duly proclaimed, and soon the palace was jammed with suitors whistling. It was very noisy. Most were terrible and a few were good, but the princess was better and beat them easily. The king was displeased, but the princess said, “Never mind, Father. Now let me set a test and perhaps some good will come of it.” Then she turned to the suitors, “Do you acknowledge that you were beaten fairly?” “No,” they all roared, all except one, “we think it was magic or some sort of trick.” But one said, “Yes.” “Yes,” he said, “I was beaten fairly.” The princess smiled, and turning to her father, she pointed to this man. “If he will have me,” she said, “I will marry him.”

The Saurian Chronicles

Two lizards on a rock are sunning themselves. It’s early in October. The rains have just stopped. The younger lizard, wishing to be amiable, says to the elder, “O wisest of lizards, O long-lived one, tell me once again – if you think it is proper – of the world’s beginning.” The Old Lizard’s tongue flickers for a moment. Her eyes cloud over. She opens her eyes, and begins, “Know then, that the sun is a lizard, a fire-breathing dragon, and the earth is an egg. The sun warms the earth. That, my dear, is the essential wisdom. In the very beginning, as the Great Mother Lizard warmed the earth, rocks split open, mountains cracked, and the Giant Lizards, our First Ancestors, saw the light of the sun. Imagine, if you can, their gigantic proportions, their fiery energy, their tremendous strength. Continents were their playing fields. They flew through the skies and sported in the oceans. The eggs that they laid gleamed like domes on the world’s horizons. They were the Mothers, the First Mothers; and all would have been well had the Mothers not asked the Supreme Mother for male companions. The Sun in Her bounty granted their wish. At first, the little fellows were playful and happy, but in time, they turned to mischief and turned the Mothers from the worship of the One. Then She grew angry. Her wrath was terrible. She punished the Mothers. And that is why, my dear, we have all been reduced to such diminutive proportions.: The Old Lizard stopped. The Young Lizard squirmed. There was something about the story that he didn’t really like, but what could he say? It was the Ancient Wisdom.

The Authentic Lie and From The Bedside Book of Nightmares

These were both difficult books to write. My father was a test pilot and was killed when his plane crashed in December 1953. I was about twelve and traumatised by his death. A recurrent dream in which he’s only lost, not gone forever, didn’t help. It wasn’t till many years later that I could write about any of it.

In From the Bedside Book of Nightmares I was, in part, trying to investigate family relationships. In the first section of the book, “From Baby F with Much Love,” the basic relationship is between daughter and mother. The little creature knows that it is not always lovable, that it can be a nuisance, that it is often disobedient and displeases its mother; but it wants to survive and it would like, if possible, to please.

The third section, “Snapshots of Caliban,” explores the relationship of the “children”, Miranda and Caliban, to Prospero in The Tempest, a play I would return to again and again for inspiration.

Excerpted with permission from Matriarchs, Cows and Epic Villains: New and Selected Fables and Poems, Suniti Namjoshi, Penguin India and Zubaan Books.

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