Hashi and the river godess

“Be quiet, let Korbo not hear you,” said grandma Munshika to her grandchildren as she lit the Night Lamp.

It was nearly midnight. The children in her thatched hut were difficult to contain.

“At 80, I have to handle two children! Oh Korbo, what did I do to deserve this?,” Grandma Munshika could be often heard when things got tough around the house. She didn’t really mean it of course.

The village of Nangria located on the banks of river Korbo is supposedly the oldest in eastern India. Around 50 houses dot the village; there could have been more but the search for work and a "better life" led many to settle outside, cutting off their roots to their homes forever.

The people were short -- the tallest was just under six feet -- and simple, but courageous and proud. Stories of Nangria men, women and children challenging the gods were passed on from generation to generation as their history.

Down the valley, the mighty Korbo river flowed surprisingly gently and deep. Originating in the Himalayas, it traverses 2,500 km to join the Bay of Bengal. 

“Korbo's flow downhill is terrible,” Munshika had once told children left with her to look after while their parents went to work. She was a village elder and it was her duty to pass on their history.  

“Grandma,” said five-year-old Kushi, in almost a whisper to her grandmother. “Why is Korbo so gentle here and not downstream?”

“It was because of the dam they were building,” said her brother nine-year-old Kush in a matter-of-fact voice. “Korbo doesn’t like them trying to stop her.”

Grandma Munshika looked at her two grandchildren, orphaned six months ago when a cloud burst triggered a landslide in the hills. Boulders, animals and mud fell into the river and Korbo’s strength carried them. The dam was no match.

A hundred people died that day. Three months later, after the public’s eye turned from the tragedy, the government began rebuilding it.

“Tell us the story of Korbo, grandma,” Kushi pressed.

“I think you have heard it so many times that I think you will be able to tell it to me.”

“Yes, but you narrate it so well. Also, you keep adding new stuff to it.”

Grandma Munshika smiled and surrendered to them and began the story by surrendering to Korbo.

‘Oh Korbo, thou flows fast and furious,

Your might shakes our enemies,

Your softness bathes our bodies,

Oh Korbo, Nangria’s blessing.’

*****

Loni ran. He had to warn the others. The king’s men were coming.

The noon sun beat down on him as the ground, rough and cracked after a year of drought, attempted to trip him. Kifaffe was unkind today.

By evening, Loni reached Nangria. The village elders were sitting by a fire.

“They are coming! A hundred men at least on foot and horses! Swords and spears! They will be here in a week!”

The villagers knew perfectly well who “they” were. Loni's shouting had attracted almost everyone in the village.

“Those people know very well we have nothing to give as taxes this year,” said Jupi, Loni’s friend who had seen his friend go over to the elders with his report. Jupi and Loni were on scout duty, sent to look out for trouble beyond the village’s borders. Loni returning before Jupi relieved him meant only one thing.

Soon, men, women and children gathered around. They were all ready to fight the king’s men but they knew it was not a war they could win.

“Call the tantric Rusa!,” ordered Pranu, the eldest of all.

Dressed in yellow, a frail man with overgrown hair and with the air of someone who hasn’t slept in days. He carried a duck.

“Pranu, listen to Rusa, Rusa has been speaking with the sky gods. Kifaffe is unhappy with the ground gods, us and Rusa,” he said. Kifaffe was the lord of the Sky gods while Garji was the lord of the Ground gods. 

“But what did we do?”

“He said we have not been praying to him and his kin and that we always tend to favor Garji’s gods.”

The villagers knew better than to question the wisdom of the gods. “What can we do?”

“Let’s ask Joli, the god of ducks for an answer,” said Rusa. He put the duck down and all the villagers watched it. The duck moved left and then right, looking for a way to escape the crowd. But each time it was blocked causing it to quack.

“Hmm,” muttered Rusa. Now all eyes went to him. Half-an-hour later, he spoke: “Listen to me O Pranu, O friends of my parents! The duck god has offered a solution for all our miseries.”

A cheer went out.

“But it is very difficult.”

The cheer died.

“Kifaffe’s daughter Korbo and the sea god Puri are in love,” he said. “If we can somehow get them together, the sky gods and ground gods can’t be angry at each other.”

No one spoke. 

“But who will go?”

“I will,” said a young voice from behind. Well-built, quiet and shorter than most 16-year-old boys, Hashi found people in front of him part to let Rusa’s eyes land on him. “I’ll make the climb and I will find a way.”

Two days later, with the rituals complete for the arduous journey, Hashi’s parents bade him farewell. “Come fast my son. The army is only a few days away. May Kifaffe let you win this time,” said his mother, while his father smeared saffron and turmeric on his forehead. In his hands were a spear and a bag of bangles.

“Just make sure you light a lamp close to midnight outside the village,” he told the entrance.

Hashi set off early in the morning. To reach the sky gods’ home, he had to climb the neighboring tallest hill. From there he took the golden stairs to the heavens. Passing clouds, leaving wild animals alone and stopping neither for food or water, Hashi reached the Golden Palace, home of the sky gods.

Although Kifaffe was known to have a poor temper, he still loved humans and had instructed his guards to be gentle to them. It is when he thinks the humans were getting too close to the Ground Gods that he gets jealous and inflicts punishment on them. The Ground Gods were no different. The people of Nangria were caught between the egos of the gods.

“Oh hello human,” said the guard, a tall golden eagle.

Hashi bowed before the eagle. “Hello, Garud. I am here to see Korbo. Would you please show me the way,” he said.

“Sure boy,” said Garud and pointed to a fountain. “There she is.”

Korbo was beautiful and unlike the rest of the gods, was just a few feet taller than Hashi and perhaps the most beautiful of them all. Hashi had heard tales of Korbo, how she was powerful and that she had been told not to flow to earth as they would not be able to contain her. 

She sat next to the fountain, lost deep in thought of how to get to Puri. Kifaffe did not approve of a Ground God and was the source of frequent clashes with his daughter. So Korbo and Puri had to meet in secret, at the horizon. 

Hashi had never been to the place called “horizon”, but he knew of their argument. Every time they did, the sky would light up and the thunder would crack.

“Korbo?”

The maiden looked to see Hashi and smiled. 

“Well hello human,” she said. “What is your name and what are you doing here?”

“My name is Hashi. I have come with a gift,” he said and gave her the bangles.

“Thank you. They look lovely.” She wore it promptly and they shone very well in the light.

“Those are not from me, Korbo,” he said and dropped his voice, Korbo had to come closer to hear him. “It’s from Puri. He wants you to meet him.”

“Where?”

“At the coast.”

Korbo could not believe her ears. Is it time already? Puri and she had talked about this. The only way to be together, he had said, was for her to flow down to earth and find her way to the coast. But she had no idea how to find her way. She would get lost.

“I know a way out of the palace. I have tried it many times. Just that I don’t know how to go to the coast,” she said.

“That’s okay. I will guide you. But we must hurry.”

Korbo led Hashi to a wall and opened a hidden door. As soon as she did Hashi ran. “Follow me!”

Korbo charged with him. They both dashed out of the heavens, onto the hill and down its slope. Hashi thought he had the lead but Korbo was faster. They were covering the distance at half the time Hashi took to climb it.

Hashi knew what was happening. Korbo was the goddess of water, wherever she went, a river formed. It was a furious river, rushing to meet the sea. Hashi also knew that if they went this fast, Nangria could be destroyed.

Night had fallen.

“Hush, Korbo!”

He put his arm out to slow Korbo down.

“What is it, Hashi?”

“That’s Garud’s torch,” he said pointing to a lamp. They had reached the boundary of his village where the elders had followed his instruction.

“Oh no. His eagle eyes will surely find me. I must go back.”

“No. We have come this far. There is no turning back now,” he said. “Just slow down and come quietly.”

Korbo did as she was told. Together, they creeped down the valley. They kept looking up to ensure Garud was not on their tail. Slowly they reached the other edge of the village.

“We are done. I can’t see the light any more. I think Garud left,” said Hashi. “Quickly now.”

Together they ran once again. Down the slopes, around the hill and over the plains.

“There it is!” Hashi yelled as they reached the coast. “That is the coast! And look! That’s the sea!”

Korbo seemed to slow down a bit now. She saw the coast and the sea, but where was Puri? Was he not coming?

She reached the coast and waited. Tears of happiness seemed to suddenly dry off.

“Quick, give me the bangles,” Hashi said. Korbo did as she was told. Hashi took them and started throwing them into the sea.

Soon there was a rumble, the water seemed to withdraw into the sea. Shells started appearing on the sand. The sea was angry.

“How dare you put your things in me?” boomed a voice. The water was now rushing to them as waves. A wall of water. Closer and closer. “HOW DARE….”

The water stopped in its tracks as if it realised something. Suddenly a handsome man appeared out of it.

“Korbo?” said Puri, dressed in green and holding a spear. “Is that you?”

“Puri!”

Korbo ran into Puri’s arms and Puri lifted her off her feet.

“You came! You actually came!” he said. “But how?”

“He guided me!” Korbo pointed to Hashi. 

But Hashi had already left. Although he was happy to have helped them be together, he did not want to earn the ire of the gods when they realized he had manipulated them.

At his village, the people were waiting to greet him. A river now flowed through the route that Korbo had taken; and as she had slowed at the village boundary, the river too slowed and dug deeper into the earth.

The overnight formation of a deep river prevented the army from reaching Nangria.

****

“And like that, Nangria was saved, both from the unjust king’s army and the drought that season,” said Grandma Munishika.

“But why do we light the Night Lamp?” asked Kush.

“Well, every now and then Korbo does return to her father,” said Grandma. “They fight sometimes and then they make up. That’s how a family is. And when it is time for Korbo to return to her husband, we hope she sees this light and thinks that Garud is waiting to return her, and slows down.”