Kothi’s story — Tales from the Indian Countryside

For centuries, humans have looked up at the skies and wondered about distant stars and galaxies, fascinated at the prospect of what’s out there. We get so caught up in these questions that we sometimes forget to look closer to home. After all, we’ve existed for a mere fraction of a second in the grand scheme of things and time. How many exotic beasts have lived and died before we came along? How many strange tales, mystical occurrences, mythical creatures have the bygone eras witnessed?

Only the most memorable amongst them live on, preserved as fables in narratives so powerful that they will exist for centuries, passed down through generations. Long after our entire species has perished, the yarns we’ve spun shall still live on as folklore, a testament to our ability to observe, imagine and document.

It’s this ability that sets us apart from the infinite fascinating creatures that call this planet home. The same power that enables us to create our own perspectives. The power to make our own choices and shape our unique personalities. But sometimes, just sometimes, a fortuitous encounter is all it takes to alter traits built up carefully over years.”

“Kothiii……Oii Kothi”, The loud shout echoed across the barnyard, startling the little girl perched cross-legged across the haystack. Kothi slammed the book she’d been reading from shut and placed it carefully on the ground. She looked up just as her father came sauntering around the corner, whistling an old movie number as he looked for his daughter .

“Kothi, there you are!” he exclaimed, finally catching sight of her amongst the swathes of hay lying around haphazardly in half sorted stacks. “Are you reading Paati’s book again? Surely you know it all by heart now”. He gave a loud guffaw, hoisting a long pile of rope onto his shoulder.

“Of course, I do”, grinned Kothi, “But it’s fun to read random bits of it now and then,”

Karikeyan nodded, “The stories she told me were truly mesmerizing. All about the animals and birds and people in her village when she was a little girl.”

“Were there dinosaurs around, when Kalki Paati was little?”, asked Kothi earnestly, her hands resting on her elbows as she anticipated another story session from her father.

Karikeyan tilted his head back and laughed. “How old do you think she was?” he asked, lifting his daughter from the haystack and setting her down beside him, “But there were other wonderful creatures she made friends with. Dogs and cats, of course. And monkeys and tortoises in the forests near her village where she used to ramble around as a kid. She had a pet tortoise who was still going strong when I left to work in the town when I was 14. But when I came back a few years later, your Paati told me he had disappeared into the forest a few months earlier,”

Karikeyan paused and heaved a huge sigh as he started wistfully across the yard, “Maybe he died and your Paati didn’t want to tell me that. It would have taken him weeks just to get across the backyard. This guy was much swifter than other tortoises though, mind. Every morning, she would bring him out when she came to see me off to school, and he would try to leave her palm and get into the tonga with me”. His eyes crinkled with laughter as the memories came flooding back to him.

“I wouldn’t mind a tortoise, they are sweet”, said Kothi, her eyes rapt with attention at her father’s story, “but dogs and cats frighten me. And I can’t even imagine going near a monkey”.

“There aren’t many monkeys around our village these days, anyway”, said her father, still lost in the memories of his childhood, “But there are enough dogs and cats around for you to make friends with. Maybe I will bring a puppy back home when I come back from the fields”, he smirked as he rose and heaved the rope onto his shoulders again.

“Nooooo…Appa you better not. I’ll run away if you do”, Kothi squealed, her eyes widening in fear, even though she had lost count of how many times her father had threatened to bring a puppy home and coax her to get over her fear of animals. She liked pretending to take him seriously just to watch him laugh, his belly heaving in amusement.

Karikeyan gave another loud bellow of laughter, “Don’t worry, little one. I was only joking. Now, go and play”, he said, even as Kothi skipped away to meet her friends at the pond, their usual hideout spot during the holidays. The sweltering heat was unbearable in the summer, and the kids usually spent all day swimming around in the small pond just outside the village. The braver ones piggybacked on the buffaloes who stood there swishing their tails impatiently, until they rolled over sideways into the water to get the children off their backs, but Kothi kept her distance from them if she could help it.

It was a particularly hot day, and Kothi hurried down the goat-track that led to the pond, eager to plunge into the cool, inviting water. The track was fenced on both sides by the farmer whose land was closest to the pond, to prevent the buffaloes from entering his fields on their way to and from their morning and evening walk to the water.

The animals belonged to the local farmers and dhobis, who let them loose most of the time, to wander around as they pleased. The children always saw them walking close to the fence, as if willing that they could prise open the wire and enter the green fields. Sometimes, a few of the animals would stand next to the fence for hours, as if rooted to the spot, until their owners came looking for them and led them away, grumbling at the long walk they had been subjected to.

On such occasions, Kothi would be deprived of her daily visit to the pond, since she was too scared to walk across the buffaloes. The track was a narrow one, such that one had to squeeze next to the animals if one were to find them standing near the fence. She prayed that she wouldn’t find any stray buffaloes that day, even as she hurried along the path. It was simply too hot that day to let go of the respite of a long, uninterrupted swim.

Rounding a bend, she came to an abrupt halt at the sight of a horse standing patiently under a tree a few yards ahead, his long black mane almost glistening in the sunlight. Kothi cursed under her breath at this unexpected turn of events. She had really felt optimistic about the prospects of a swim that day, and hadn’t even considered the possibility of a horse, of all animals, thwarting her plans.

Her father kept no horses, and she couldn’t think of anyone in her village or the neighbouring one who owned horses. In fact, she couldn’t think of the last time she actually saw one, bar that time at the grassroots farm bazaar two years ago when someone had ridden in from the nearest town on one.

She had been quite mesmerized by that particular beast, his thick mane of brown hair and long tail swishing around impatiently, and the way he kept stomping around as if the sight of so many people congregating together had somehow annoyed him. She had kept staring at him until he was led away, although she couldn’t muster up the courage to walk up to him.

This one looked much less impatient, although he kept swaying his head slowly from one side to another. Even as Kothi watched, he stuck his head into a long trench by the side of the fence, slurping up the water in one long gulp. The horse suddenly spied Kothi and gave out a loud neigh, causing the scared girl to step back a few paces. Continuing to neigh loudly, he trotted around in a circle, as if beckoning her to come closer. It was then that Kothi noticed that the horse was tied to a small gate set in the middle of the fenced area, leading straight into the farm and to the cottage beyond. The farmer’s visitor had presumably ridden in from one of the mountain hamlets on the other side of the pond, since he had taken the side gate instead of the main one in the village square.

“And I don’t think he’s coming back anytime soon”, Kothi finished the rest of her thought out loud. Visitors from the mountains seldom ventured back beyond sunset, usually staying somewhere overnight before making the tedious journey back. It looked like Kothi’s plans for a refreshing swim had come to an unsatisfactory end, but the little girl was not about to give up just yet.

Taking care to put more distance between the horse and her, she plopped down on the ground under a massive tree, waiting to see if someone would come to lead the horse into the farm or ride away before it was time for her to head back home. She briefly considered darting across the horse and away, seeing that he was tied up securely, but she couldn’t muster up the courage to attempt this daring feat.

The horse continued to look at her, his head cocked to one side and lowered even as he let out a series of high-pitched neighs. Kothi knew that the lowered head meant the horse was trying to get a good look at her. Her father had told her that, contrary to popular belief, horses didn’t have great vision, and usually lowered or raised their heads to get a proper look at things closer or father away from them respectively.

She took an apple out of her pocket. She had been saving it for her way back home from the swim, but this seemed as good a time as any for a snack. The horse let out another neigh, raising his hooves slightly before trotting around in yet another circle. His magnificent mane flew against the wind, fascinating the watching girl.

“He’s got better hair than me”, she mused, “And I bet he only air dries after wetting it”. Grinning at her own joke, Kothi stood and took a few steps towards the horse, apprehensive at the possibility of him loosening his rope and cantering towards her. Slowly, she bent down and rolled the apple towards the animal, taking care to ensure it reached him. She certainly didn’t want to go any closer if she could help it.

The horse pounced at the apple, and a loud crunch rent the air as he bit into it. He had devoured the treat in an instant and gave a loud satisfied neigh. “Shhh, you’ll bring the farmer out,”, shushed Kothi, settling down on the ground again, “He doesn’t like kids using this track. He thinks we’ll try to get into his farm. We just want to go to the pond, you know. No one cares about his farm.”

The horse swayed his head again, as if he understood exactly what Kothi was ranting about. Kothi looked at him, amused at his antics. Heaving a huge sigh, she stretched herself on the ground, making herself comfortable, even as she kept an eye out for anyone who might be approaching them from the other side of the gate.

The calm evening air was disturbed again, this time by loud barking coming from some way off. Kothi scrambled to her feet, fully aware of what this meant. The village dogs loved making a nuisance of themselves, and the buffaloes at the pond were usually their favourite target. They liked darting at the big animals or getting in their way as they ambled along slowly, confusing them and getting them to chase them away. They considered this good fun in a well-meaning way, although whether the buffaloes reciprocated that feeling was yet to be ascertained.

Kothi watched as two pups made their way around the corner of the track, snapping at each other playfully and falling over themselves. One of them caught sight of Kothi and came running towards her, ready to dash out licks and dart in between her legs like a maniac. Quick as a flash, Kothi rushed towards the horse and wedged herself between him and the fence. She didn’t know what the horse was capable of doing to hurt her, but she reasoned to herself that it couldn’t be worse than the puppy running rings around her and nipping at her ankles.

The horse neighed loudly, unsure at this unexpected development. Even as he turned to look at Kothi quizzically, the puppy bounced along the path right up to the tree where the horse was tied, yapping loudly and creating quite a ruckus.

For a second, the horse looked down at the puppy quite intently, as if weighing up his options. Then, without warning, he raised his hind legs up and let out what was possibly the loudest neigh he had ever mustered. Stamping his feet on the ground, he stuck his head forward towards the puppy.

“Good boy,” exclaimed Kothi ecstatically, almost forgetting her fear of the horse as she watched the poor puppy scamper back to where his friend was stood. Letting out a single yelp in unison, both the pups turned and fled back towards the village, a series of further yelps indicating their retreating presence.

Almost instinctively, Kothi flung her arms around the horse and hugged him tight. The horse nuzzled against her with content, and Kothi found, to her surprise, that her fear had been replaced with a warm fuzzy feeling. “You’re a gentle boy, aren’t you?”, she whispered to the horse, “You wouldn’t hurt a soul, would you?”

The horse whinnied softly, almost as if he was agreeing with her. Kothi stroked his mane, admiring the way it glistened brightly. “You’re quite magnificent”, she told him, “Look at that silky black mane. I think I’ll call you Kali. That’s a nice name for you”.

“I see you’ve made friends with him”, a booming voice made Kothi look around, startled. A stout man walked up to her from the other side of the fence, the dirt on his clothes and his weary looking face suggesting that he was the traveller who had ridden in on Kali.

“He’s a lovely horse, isn’t he?”, he quipped, the huge beam on his face making it evident that he liked people admiring his horse, “Strong and sturdy. I’ve had him since he was an itty-bitty pony. He’s a magnificent specimen. He’s never let me down”.

“I can imagine”, smiled Kothi, stroking Kali again, “He’s truly one of a kind”.

“He is”, beamed the traveller, “but I have to take him in now. I’ve decided to bed here for the night, and it’s too risky to leave him out here. I’ve found a nice spot in the stables where he’ll be safe”.

“What’s his na-”, Kothi stopped abruptly, unsure whether she wanted to know his name. Edging closer, she whispered in his ear, “Goodbye Kali”, gently stroking his mane again. “I’ll bring him some apples tomorrow”, she added, a bit louder.

“You’ll have to come really early then”, said the man, leading Kali away slowly, “I’ll be up and off at the crack of dawn. Long journey ahead”

Kothi slowly walked off, whistling the same tune her father had been whistling all day. As she neared the end of the track, she saw the two puppies gambolling about, play biting each other with loud yelps. One of them stopped and looked at her intently, his eyes drooping, his head cocked to the side. Even as he hesitated, Kothi walked up to him and bent down, gently stroking his ears even as the puppy instantly nipped at her fingers with delight.

Over the years, Kothi often thought of Kali, and wondered what he was up to in the hills. She had returned to the farm early the next day, but Kali and his rider had already left. In the years that followed, she had made friends with plenty of animals, much to her father’s delight, but most of her time in solitude at the pond was spent recollecting the brief adventure she shared with Kali fondly. She walked by the fence at least twice a day, hoping he would come back.

She wondered if he missed her too. Perhaps he still remembered the girl who had given him an apple for chasing away a puppy. Perhaps he even wondered where she was. Perhaps he had assumed that, just like the birds in the mountains, she too would come back one day.