When I was a little girl
My grandma used to tell me
Stories of times past
And people that lived long before me
Stories of kings and queens
Warriors and sages
Stories with lessons
And sometimes, a little reason
Parables from Ramayana & Mahabharata
Stories of Buddha and Guru Nanak
Tales of morality from Panchatantra
And of course, tales from her village of old
My favourite was Dukko
(That’s what you call a super old lady)
And her goats four with names all funny–
Hudere, Huneel, Hulay, Huran
Once two thiefs, all cunning & mighty
Decided to steal Dukko’s goats
Oh what a tragedy!
For the old lady had no one but them
But as they approached her house
Late one night
The goats started bleating
And woke up their old lady.
As the first goat spoke
Dukko called– “Hudere”?
The thieves were shocked!
“Did she just say- Who is there”?
Not wanting to take a chance and being discovered
Both crouched down, so as to avoid Dukko’s nazar
But as the second goat spoke
Dukko called– “Huneel”?
The thieves more shocked than ever
“Did she just ask- who is kneeling”?
Let’s not take a chance and lie down
Then no way she can see us here
But as they did so, the third goat spoke
And Dukko asked– “Hulay”?
The thieves were both now frightened
“She can see us, she asked who lays there!”
And thus throwing away thoughts of stealing
They both started to make a run for it
When the fourth goat spoke
And Dukko called – “Huran”?
“She can see us still!
Asking who is running!
She must be a witch!
Let’s not come back here!”
And thus the thieves ran away
Without looking back
While the goats bleated happily
All was at last safe!
Note: Here ‘Nazar’ means sight
This is a story I never heard before, but I really like it. The stanza size you chose to use really works well to frame the events of the story. And the way the lines mirror each other in each stanza feels like the way the story was originally told.
Now I want to read the original version of this story!
Thank you for reading! This is actually a story my grandma told me when I was very young. It’s not written anywhere, just a local bedtime story from her small village in North India. The language spoken there is technically Hindi, but the dialect is so different that even I don’t understand. So the translation was a little difficult (as you can guess from the sad state of rhythm) but because it’s such a nostalgic story, I wanted to write it here.
I love the ballad-like quality and the comedy of the goats and the old lady. Truly a story to regale!