Where has my Ba gone? (Translation)

This story by Shenoi Goembab was written around 1945. It was republished in the Konkani Short Story collection published by Sahitya Akademi in 1985 and edited by Chandrakant Keni. In his preface to this anthology, Laxmanrao Sardesai says that 'Mhoji Ba Khoim Geli' can be considered the first modern short story in Konkani literature. Although it was first published alongside other stories that were more like 'kanneo' or folk tales, this story follows the structure of modern storytelling.  

Where has my Ba gone?

by Shenoi Goembab          

 translated by  José Lourenço

In the first fortnight of the month of Magh, Babulo crossed five years of age and entered his sixth. He was a little boy, no doubt. But very naughty, very mischievous. And quite unruly. He had just started his holidays and was turning the whole house upside down with his romping and his boisterous antics.

In Shapshenoi’s house, after many many years of weary-eyed prayers and vows and fretful care, like a ginger shoot sprouting on a dry plateau, a male child was born. When the midwife first informed Shenoi of the birth of his grandchild and asked for a token gift, it is said he blushed and flushed and was full of glee. Saying ‘take this gift’ he promptly took off a newly worn embroidered sash from around his shoulder and gave it to the midwife. Besides that, he took a silver coin, full as a piece of coconut kernel, and placed it on her hand. Joyful at the birth of his grandson, he ordered a lot of fireworks and distributed sugar all over the marketplace. The sottvi, the fifth day of the child’s birth was celebrated with much fanfare. Words cannot describe the din of the gumats, madhallim and shimells that rent the air all night. As for fish, basketfuls lay around for the taking.

Shapshenoi and Umabai were simply out of this world, overjoyed with the birth of a grandchild. Enchanted by Babulo, they cared not for food or water. Babulo here, there and everywhere! They could think of nothing other than anticipating every little need of Babulo. If Honibai sometimes went to her mother’s house taking Babulo along, they would send summons upon summons to her and could not rest until they finally had her back home.

Just as Babulo entered his sixth year, Honibai fell seriously ill. According to the doctor, she had contracted pneumonia; and she passed away. That the mother of a young, growing boy should suddenly die, what an immense tragedy! When she was confined to bed, young Babulo who had been nurtured with such affection turned subdued. His mischief subsided. His pranks ceased. His rowdiness, his merrymaking, his monkeying around all simply vanished. He fell into deep contemplation looking melancholy and troubled like a grey-haired man of advanced years.

When his stricken mother began babbling deliriously, his grandfather and grandmother feared that the sight would frighten Babulo and they prevented him from going near her room. Even so, he would sometimes evade them and go to her door and call out softly – ‘Ba, ba …”

She eventually passed away in the wee hours of one night. At that time, Babulo was blissfully asleep on his grandmother’s cot. Fearing that he would wake amid the clamour and commotion, his grandmother stealthily carried him away to sleep in another room and until morning dawned and the corpse was taken away, she did not allow him even the slightest clue of what had happened.

The loss of such a virtuous daughter-in-law as Honibai brought tears to the eyes of her mother-in-law and father-in-law. But dreading that Babulo might come to know of his mother’s death, they suppressed their heartbroken grief. His grandmother tried her best to stop him from going near his mother’s room. But again he escaped her eye and got there, but to his surprise, his mother was nowhere in sight. Her cot was not to be seen. Even her blanket had vanished. Nothing. The room ached with a yawning emptiness. He was confused and called out to his grandparents – ‘Where has my Ba gone?    

At that moment Umabai, no longer able to control her sobs, hugged him close and wept- ‘My darling, your mother went to God’s house in the night, O my prince!’  

Babulo did not understand the meaning of these words. He said- ‘The way Uncle’s dolli comes, I did not see God’s dolli come. In what did she sit and go? And how did she go alone? Why did she not take me along?’

On hearing these words the hearts of his grandparents and other family members were filled with great sorrow. The tears that they all had held back for so long burst forth and there was a great wailing in the house. This confused Babulo even more. Seeing the others cry, he too began to weep. His grandmother squeezed him tightly to her chest and moaned – ‘Tut..tut..touch wood! You shouldn’t say that, my darling. You are the shining light of our world. May you live many years like the banyan tree and may your tribe increase!’

Babulo was utterly bewildered. He kept wandering around and returning to his mother’s room, wondering where she had gone and what had befallen her. And when the twelfth day came and they collected her saree, blouse piece, and copper pot to hand over to the Savaishin Brahmins for rituals in her name, he howled and cried- ‘Aaji, when Ba comes back from God’s place, won’t she need clothes to wear? And won’t she need her pot to drink water?’

On hearing these words tears ran down the cheeks of his grandmother, the Savaishin Brahmins and all those around. Babulo was amazed at this. Every time he spoke of his mother, his grandmother and others around would start to cry. He simply could not comprehend this. When his Ba would take him to her mother’s house, no one would cry and now, because she had gone to God’s house everyone was crying endlessly. It just made no sense at all.

After the twelfth day, Babulo anxiously awaited his mother’s return from God’s house. If he saw any palanquin in the marketplace, he would run and check on it, absolutely certain that his mother had come seated in it and would then return home, greatly disappointed.

Finally when three months had passed, one day he asked his grandmother – ‘Aaji, why aren’t you sending a dolli to bring Ba back? It’s been so many days since she’s gone.’

His grandmother dabbed her eyes with her saree and said – ‘Let that matter be, child. Why don’t you go and play with Mannku?’

After his mother’s death, Babulo had ceased all his playing. He was wholly beset with fretting for his mother. He said – ‘Aaji, I don’t feel like playing. I feel like seeing my Ba.’

To this his grandmother exclaimed in exasperation –‘Son, maybe one fine day I myself should sit in the dolli and go fetch her! Day by day I too am growing weary of this world.’

‘If you go then who will be with me!’ said Babulo. ‘You don’t go, aaji. It is enough to send Ragulo and Sakulo with the dolli. They will bring Ba back.’

Umabai did not know how to reply to this. She tried to distract Babulo’s mind. But it was no use. He began to pursue her in earnest, pleading for a palanquin to be sent for his mother.

So finally his grandmother braced herself and with a parched voice said -‘Babulea, those who go to God do not come back, my darling.”

‘Then why did you allow my Ba to go there? Why did you not send God’s dolli back? If you had told this to me first, I would have closed the door of her room and not let her move out. I would have hung on tightly to her legs.”

On hearing these words, his grandmother began sobbing like a little child. Then Babulo said to her – ‘Aaji, these days why do you cry so much at every word I say? Now tell me really, Ba will never come back? I will not have my Ba anymore? What is this kind of work that she has gone to God’s place for?’

Umabai could not make him understand. She wiped her tears and said – ‘My precious one, now let those things be…”  Whereupon Babulo stubbornly said – ‘No! No! I want my Ba. I am going to God’s room right now and I am going to ask him why he took my Ba and where he has kept her. That’s the same God in the puja room, right?’

Babulo walked swiftly to the worship room and as his elders had taught him he struck both his cheeks and prostrated himself before the deity. By that time his grandmother had hurried after him to see what he was up to and she stood just outside the worship room.

Babulo rose to his feet. With a stern finger to his nose and a menacing look on his face he addressed the deity – ‘O Lord God, it’s been many days since you took my Ba. Why did you take her? And how did you take her without informing me? Didn’t you know that I want her? You couldn’t find anyone else to take? Today evening, you place her back in her room where she was sleeping! Or else, tomorrow morning I will show you. I will tell aajo not to perform your puja. No puris for you. No bath. No food. No flower petals. No lamp, no candles, no tender coconut! Not even a piece of jaggery. Nor a pinch of sugar. Nothing. Absolutely nothing! I will make them starve you completely!’

Seeing her grandson fighting with God, Umabai was filled with wonder for a moment and felt like crying at the same time. She left quietly without his knowing of her presence. Then, having threatened God, and confident that He would not rest until He had restored Ba to her room, Babulo spent the rest of the day joyfully. Night fell soon and he slept soundly.

As soon as dawn broke the next day, in eager anticipation of seeing his Ba, he made haste to her room. When he got there, there wasn’t even a fly in sight! He was greatly discouraged and flashed with rage. He went to his grandmother and told her – ‘What kind of a God is that? I scolded him so much yesterday, but he doesn’t even care. If he had even a little shame, wouldn’t he have brought my Ba back here? Now what should I do, aaji! That God is not listening. I just want my mother.’

He began to stomp his feet and wailed desperately- ‘O my Ba! O my Ba!’ Then his grandmother took him close and said – ‘Don’t do this madness, my child, those who go to God’s house do not come back, my love.’ Babulo retorted – ‘But shouldn’t God have told me that? Yesterday when I yelled at him so much, what was there for him to just say-‘You will not get your Ba’?  Why did he just keep quiet?’

‘God doesn’t speak to human beings, my darling’ answered his grandmother.

‘If he doesn’t speak to them, then for what kind of work does he take them to him? That means he doesn’t speak to my Ba either?’

His grandmother was at her wit's end. He finally declared – ‘God may speak or not speak, but I want my Ba. God will not get her. If she does not come to me, I will go to her.’

With this, Babulo began to pine for his mother. He stopped having his meals. He stopped eating altogether. He just abandoned everything. He became as thin as a coconut leaf rib and fell bedridden. And at the end, crying ‘Ba, O my Ba…’ his soul fled this earth.

On hearing of Babulo’s sad tale, whose heart would not be moved! And whose eyes would not be filled with tears! ‘If she does not come to me, I will go to her’, what resolute words these were! We have to say that Babulo made them come true in the end. ‘Yhe yhe vapi smarnbhava tyajatyante kalevarama! Te tamevaiti kavanteya sada tadhabhavbhvit:’ As the sloka says - ‘he who rises every day and dwells absolutely on the same vision and finally abandons his mortal coil in that quest, he alone achieves oneness with it’ – did not Lord Krishna once say this to Arjuna? With faith in this, our little Babulo went to where his beloved Ba dwelt and now sits happily at her side, of that there is surely no doubt.   

Translated by  José Lourenço