I visit the Surajkund Crafts Fair every two years hoping to catch the same colours in a different light. And I come back, believing that I have succeeded in my attempt. This year too, I went to this mela, a little extra enthusiastic, because the theme state was Assam, my native. The most authentic aspect that was showcased was the Naam Ghar (Prayer House), complete with the huge doba (drums) and the manikoot (deity's throne). It touched my heart.



The manikoot of the naam ghar created in Surajkund Craft Fair 2012
Photo: Rubi BG

At the Suraj Kund Mela 2012

Sea-shells and molluscs continued....

The little girl couldn't contain her excitement. Her squishing shoes, her wet socks, and the wet shirt couldn't dampen her spirit. For in her satchel lay the shells, nicely wrapped in torn pages from her maths notebook.


Come recession after two classes, and she called her best friend to one corner, and showed her prized possession. Her best friend rolled her eyes first, then twisted her nose. "Throw them out of the window", she suggested.


"Huh!" was what the little girl replied. All throughout the day she dreamt of going home and decorating her study table with the shells... and listening to the sound of the waves now and then , when she wouldn't be able to learn her multiplication tables by heart. Those multiplication tables gave her nightmares. No matter how much she tried, she couldn't remember how much would be 14*8...


The rains ceased by lunch break. Eventually, the long wait was over, as the classes came to an end. She sat in her school bus. Even the bus seemed to go at the pace of a tortoise today.... how boring... Finally, she was home. She threw open her wet socks... it smelled queer..like that of wet leather. and her fair toes had become white and shrivelled. "Never mind," she murmured. Then she opened her satchel. It was smelling very, very strange.


She took out the ball of paper, where lie her shells. The wrapping had gone soggy, and the smell was coming from the wrapping. "May be paper wet paper smells funny," she thought.
"Maa... maa!" she cried, and rushed to the kitchen. Mother was laying the table.
"See, what I have got!" the little girl told her mother, and laid the shells in the table.


"Yikes!" mother shrieked. It startled the little girl. "Where did you get those from?" asked mother, her voice still high-pitched.
"Oh, I got these shells from near my school," she said. It was smelling very funny now, even the girl began doubting whether if it was coming from the shells.

Now mother calmed down. "Those are not shells, you silly girl," she said. "These are called molluscs."


"MOLLUSCS! They are shells, like the ones at enai's place," the little girl stated.
"No those are different. You find shells in the sea-shore, not near your school," mother asserted. So saying, she picked the soggy paper ball, along with the MOLLUSCS, and threw it out of the kitchen window.

Sea shells and molluscs

Showers of rain in Assam would catch anyone unawares. Apart from the monsoons—where half of Assam remains flooded by the Brahmaputra and its tributaries—there are other months too, when the clouds would gather in the horizon, and even before one reaches home, he/she will be drenched in the showers! Unpredictable.... pretty unpredictable! There was a girl, a little girl, who was fond of looking at the ocean's pictures. It enchanted her little mind. Every now and then, she would dream of becoming a beautiful mermaid, like they show in the Walt Disney pictures. She would imagine herself to be the princes of the underworld. Her ornaments would be the beautiful seashells. But of course, the colour of her dress would change quite often, depending on her whims. A particular big conch lay etched in her mind. Her enaai's (maternal granny) house had an aquarium. It was devoid of fishes. What lay in the dry bowl were small seashells and a big, big conch. Once Munu—her cousin—put the conch to this dreamy girl's ears and asked her to hear the roaring sound. Roaring, it was!!
"The ocean sound like this roar that you hear inside the conch," Munu told her. The girl was astounded. What magic the conch held inside its belly!!! It came miles and miles away from the ocean, but brought the sound along.
This spiky brownish-white conch had cast its spell. Now, started a dream in her little head of seeing the ocean, and collecting lots of seashells in a blue lagoon. She tried to compensate the desire by buying some dozen cowries from a puja bhandaar one day. But the cowries were too small. They couldn't suffice the conch.

It was one rainy July day, when this girl was in the 3rd Standard. She loved to jump in the puddles while on her way to school. However, there was only one dampener to this. Her leather shoes would get soft at first, after getting wet in the rains, and then it would be hard like stone. The other problem was the socks. Attending classes all throughout the day in soggy, smelly and wet socks was not a very brave thing to do.

She set out for her school. After getting down from the school bus, she struggled to balance her heavy school bag on one shoulder and her water bottle and the yellow/black umbrella on the other. It was however, not an easy task. It was pouring, her white shirt was already drenched in the showers, her satchel half wet, and her shoes were going ‘SQUISH, SQUISH’ because of the water that filled it up.

She was struggling her way to the school gate, when she saw a small crowd. People were peeping into something. When she reached the spot, she saw that some senior schoolmates were peeping into the small stream, which was like drain cut in the soil. And there were tiny silver fishes swimming in the drain. The girl was excited. There were also brown coloured shells lying in the pool. It looked like the ones that she saw in her enaai’s place, but a tad bit smaller. It didn’t matter.
“Uncle,” she called on the rickshawallah, trying to look as sorry as possible. “Can you pick those shells for me,” she asked him.
“What would you do?” he asked.
“I will carry them home”

So in another couple of minutes, the shells were in her hands.

The Toy Airplane's story

The big, big airplane just passed by. It had red lights and blue, twinkling like coloured stars. The toy plane in Gerry’s Top Shop let out a big sigh… “Wish, I could fly in the sky someday...” it thought.

Gerry’s Toy Shop was around the bend. It had a big showcase, facing the road, where Gerry would display his latest toys and dolls. But the airplane was an exception.
It lay there for a year now. The sparkling blue stickers on the toy plane now looked paler.
Its shiny blue lights on the wings seemed brown because of the thick layer of dust that had settled on it.

When the plane was born in the toy factory, it was very happy. “I will fly like the big planes. I will see places, may be carry few passengers too…” it would think.
Then it was brought to Gerry’s Shop, neatly packed in a blue and black packet. Gerry put the plane on display. But for some strange reason, nobody bought the plane. Children would stop, look at the plane and then go away.

For the first 2-3 months in the display, the toy plane was happy and hopeful. “These children are stupid. They won’t buy me. A clever child will buy me soon, and then I will fly,” the plane believed.

But days passed, and then weeks, and months after that. The plane lay where it was. Nobody came to take it home.

It was one particular morning of the twelfth month since
the plane lay in the shelf. Gerry placed a beautiful ragged doll just next to the plane. The doll had big button eyes. Her hair was parted in the middle and neatly plaited. Two red satin ribbons were tied on her golden plaits. She wore a pink frilly frock, with big blue dots, that resembled her eyes.

The ragged doll looked at the plane, twisted her nose in disdain and looked up into the sky.

“Hey! Do you come from the same toy factory from where I came?” the plane asked her.
He got no replies.

“She didn’t hear me,” thought the airplane. So it cleared its throat, inched closer and said again, “Hey, you have beautiful ribbons on your hair,” and this time, the plane was sure, it spoke loud enough.

“Huh” was what it got as a reply.
The plane was totally puzzled now. So it said “ahem!”
The doll turned to him, and rolling her big eyes, said, “Keep off me! You dirty thing. How dare you speak to me?”

The plane was taken aback. The doll was pretty, but it was rude!
“Sorry missy,” he said hurriedly, and went to his place.

Soon, it was night. Gerry closed the shop and went home. But the toy plane and the ragged doll could see the street and the sky above. The streetlight lit the entire bend, and it looked beautiful…

Morning came, and the plane and the doll lay in their corners. The doll was too vain, and the plane too hurt. Very soon, in came a pretty little girl, dressed in a pretty yellow frock. She saw the doll on the shelf, and tugged at her Papa’s hand.

“Daddy, I want that doll,” she said, blinking her big green eyes, and pointing at the ragged doll.
“All right darling, anything for you,” said her Papa, smiling.

The toy plane was looking at the sky. He had just seen a REAL airplane with red stripes on its wing, fly by. He felt a gentle nudge, and looked around, only to see the doll looking at him.

“Hey urchin, I am off with that little girl. Just one night at the shop and, somebody has come to take me home. You won’t....” she couldn’t complete the sentence, for Gerry
came to the showcase, and picked her up. She was packed into her see-through box. The little girl in the yellow girl frock held the box close to her heart and went home, jumping with joy.

Two big teardrops fell silently from the airplane. But the ragged doll didn’t see it. Thankfully not, or else she would have made the toy plane’s life more miserable with here acid tongue…

**to be continued next month**....

The Perfect Gift

Ping and Pong—the two porcupine brothers sat in the garden. It was beautiful sunny autumn noon. Ping was munching on a big red juicy apple, while Pong lay down on the cot, looking at the sky. The day was just perfect to go cycling.
“Ping…” said his brother, “Why don’t we get Ma some wild flowers today?” Ping didn’t respond, but was busy munching the juicy apple. He was looking at the butterfly that sat on the flower right next to him.

Not getting any response, Pong shook his brother hard; so hard, that the apple dropped “Plonk” onto the ground and the butterfly flew away!“See, what have you done!” cried Ping. “There goes my apple, and that butterfly too.
“Doesn’t matter,” said Pong. “You can have mine.” Ping jumped to hear this.
“But,” said Pong, “let’s get some wild flowers from the fields for Ma first.”
“We can do that tomorrow”, Ping said crossly, eyeing his apple that now lay in the dirt.

“No, we will get the flowers today. And NOW! Did u forget it’s mother’s day today?” Pong said to his brother.
Ping felt a little guilty for remembering only the apple, and forgetting all about mother’s day.
“Okay,” he agreed, “let’s go. I shall get the cycle.”
Right then, Ma came with a big tub of clothes, all huffing and puffing.“Ping! Pong!!” cried Ma.
The brothers gathered around Ma instantly.
“Look at this maple leaves,” Ma said, wiping her forehead with her apron.
Ping-Pong looked around, and true!! The garden was littered with dry twigs and leaves.“I thought I would bake you a chocolate cake. But look at the heap of leaves scattered here.”
“Ma, we are very hungry. We want the cake,” Pong said, winking at his brother secretly. Ping knew his brother had an idea, and he joined in, “You can clean the garden later, Ma.

“Okay kids, then I shall bake the cake,” she said, and went indoors. As soon as Ma was out of sight, Pong smiled and said, “Forget the flowers…”“What!!” screamed Ping. “But…”“We shall get them later. How about clearing the garden first?” Pong said, with twinkle in his eyes.

“How about what? It will take us long.” Ping said scratching his little head.
Pong went to his brother and said something onto his ears, and both the porcupines giggled aloud. That very moment, they rolled themselves, and looked like two small thorn balls.

“One, two, and three!!” they cried, and rolled on the ground from one end to another. When they reached the end, they stood up and smiled. The dry leaves stuck to their thorns!
It was fun, they agreed. Then they rolled again. And again, and again. They kept playing until the whole garden was sparkling green. After this, they rested for a while.

Then they brought out their cycle, and rode to the meadow nearby. The meadow looked like a rainbow. There were so many wild flowers, in red, yellow, blue, and crimson. There were lots of butterflies too!

Both the brothers clapped their hands in joy. They picked up the best flowers, and tied them together with a dry grass. Then, they rode home fast.Ping went to the kitchen and tugged at Ma’s apron. Ma was busy baking the cake.

“Ma, we want you to see something in the garden,”
“Allright,” said she, and followed her son to the garden.

Ma was very surprised at what she saw. She couldn’t believe her eyes!
“What… how did this happen?” she spoke in great wonder.
“We did it for you”, the brothers chorused. Now Ma was more than surprised…

“We played a game. We rolled ourselves and raced around the garden,” Ping said, scratching his little head again. Ma understood everything. She held them together, and planted one big kiss on each of her son’s cheeks.
“We have something else for you,” they said.
Saying this, Pong ran to their cycle, picked up the bunch of flowers and ran back.
“Happy Mother’s Day,” they said, holding out the bunch.Ma knelt down, took the flowers and hugged her little boys in delight.

“This is the best gift I have ever received, kids,” she said. “For your hard work, and your present, you will get an extra treat of apple pie too.”
Ping and Pong looked at each other. They jumped in delight, and said “Yippee!!”