A Story of Sacrifice
Lata began, “The Maharaja of Jodhpur, Abhay Singh, wanted to build a new palace and for this he required wood. Lots and lots of wood.”
“Ohh… So, from where did he get this wood, Amma?” asked Jai, lying on his stomach and raising himself on his elbows.
“The Maharaja sent his soldiers to Amrita Devi’s village to cut down some khejri trees. Amrita Devi was a fearless woman; she hugged one of the trees to protect it from the soldiers’ axe. The soldiers rebuked her. They told her she would have to face death for opposing the Maharaja’s wishes.”
“Ohh…” whispered Sneha, aghast.
“But Amrita Devi didn’t back down. In fact, she told the soldiers that she was prepared to give up her life for the trees because she was a Bishnoi and it was her responsibility to protect the forest,” Lata said, caressing her daughter’s hair.
“Then what happened, Amma?” queried Jai.
“Many villagers followed her example and began hugging the trees. Even her own daughters hugged the trees. The soldiers looked at them with growing anger and impatience. They picked up their axe and struck Amrita Devi, her daughters and even many villagers. It is said that about three hundred and sixty-three people lost their lives before the Maharaja regretted his decision and called his soldiers back,” said Lata, looking up at the stars.
“So many people!” Sneha whispered in a shocked voice.
“Yes. But Amrita Devi’s sacrifice has become a source of inspiration for others. Her village came to be known as ‘Khejarli’ after the trees she had died saving. You know, what? Every year in September, the Bishnoi community gathers there to commemorate her and the other conservation martyrs.”
“Sarpanch Dadaji told us that a Chipko Movement was inspired by Amrita Devi’s sacrifice,” Jai supplied.
“Yes, that was lately, somewhere in the 1970’s in Uttarakhand. And, if I’m not wrong, I remember your father showing me some article in a newspaper a couple of years ago about an award started in Amrita Devi’s name…”
“You’re right, Amma. That newspaper uncle from the city said it was called… Amrita Devi Bishnoi Wildlife Protection Award started in 2001…” chirped Sneha, proudly.
“Arrey… Wah! My daughter is very clever!” Lata said and hugged the girl warmly. Her bangles tinkled softly.
“Amma, but why did Amrita Devi sacrifice her life for a tree?” Jai queried, confused.
“Jai, it wasn’t just a tree. It was a Khejri tree. The Khejri is considered a priceless species in our region.”
“But why, Amma?” Jai asked again.
“There are many reasons. For example, it grows well in hot and dry areas like in and around our village. It is useful not only to us but also for our animals. That day, Savita Kaki prepared Kair Sangri sabzi for you, you remember?”
“Yes, Amma…” chorused the two children.
“The unripe pods for that sabzi which is so elemental to a Rajasthani thali comes from the Khejri tree.”
“Ohh…” Sneha said thoughtfully.
“Not only that. When there’s a famine, people can eat the bark of the tree. The Khejri also has medicinal properties, you know, it can be used to treat skin diseases. It helps farmers in restoring soil fertility. Its leaves are good fodder for our cattle – the cows and goats.”
“This means that the Khejri is very beneficial,” said Jai solemnly.
“Yes, very useful. So, you see why Amrita Devi was willing to risk her life?”
“Yes, Amma. In the same way, the hills around our village are also very important for us. We’ll definitely help Sarpanch Dada and reporter uncle to save them,” Jai said, sitting up.
“Good boy. But always ask your Sarpanch Dada before doing anything. Alright?” Lata said with a smile.
“Yes, Amma. We will,” the children said in unison.
“Very good. Now, lie down and go to sleep. You have to wake up early tomorrow morning. Don’t you both have to go to school?”
“Yes, Amma.”
“Goodnight, my dears,” Lata said, as the children snuggled close.
“Goodnight, Amma!”
“Goodnight, Amma!”
Lata looked up at stars twinkling brightly. Her children closed their eyes and fell asleep in the blink of an eye.
~ ~ ~ ~
“Deenu Kaka… Deenu Kaka…” called the six children as they walked home after school. “Where you going in such a hurry?”
“I can’t talk to you all. I’m going to call Pandit Ji,” replied Deenu Kaka not stopping for even a second.
“Sarpanch Ji wants to meet him urgently.”
“Urgently? Why?” queried Jai, curiously.
“Sarpanch Ji wants him to offer some prayers for a good rainfall this year. Last year we didn’t get enough rains,” Deenu Kaka supplied the information, still walking fast.
“Ohh… Can we come with you? After that you can tell us a story?” Sneha asked.
“Aren’t you children tired after school?” Deenu Kaka said in a little put off voice. “And, how many times must I tell you, I don’t tell stories.”
“Ohh… Sorry Deenu Kaka,” Sneha apologized. “We are tired but it’s been so many days you haven’t shared any interesting encounter with us. Please… Please… tell us of some adventure.”
“Very well. I’ll come over to your home after conveying Sarpanch Ji’s message,” Deenu Kaka said importantly. “Now go home and stop following me.”
“We’ll wait for you Deenu Kaka,” chirped the three girls.
Deenu Kaka waved and hurried on towards the village priest’s home.
“Come on, everyone. Let’s go home and have our meal. We’ll meet in about an hour at our home,” Jai said excitedly. “Looks like we have an exciting evening ahead.”
“That was a wonderful idea to ask Deenu Kaka for a story, Sneha. I was wondering what we would do today. It’s getting too hot to play outside,” Somu said, appreciatively. “Now at least we’ll be engaged and entertained.”
“Yes, that was a brilliant move, Sneha,” Jyoti agreed.
“Thank you, everyone,” Sneha smiled. “I only hope Deenu Kaka has one of Bholu’s stories to share with us.”
“Bholu! Hmm… it’s been a while we heard something about him,” Gopi nodded in agreement.
“Don’t take his name loudly. If he’s around and he hears you he may prank us before we hear of his pranks in Deenu Kaka’s stories,” Gauri whispered looking around furtively.
Everyone laughed.
“Alright then. Let’s meet in an hour at home,” Jai said when they reached the crossroad.
“See you soon…” called the other four, waved and hurried off.
“Sneha, let’s go home,” Jai said. “I hope Amma has something ready to eat. I’m starving.”
Sneha giggled. “Me too, Bhaiyya. I hope it’s sooji halwa.”
“Wow! That sounds like quite a yummy idea.”
The children ran home, their steel tiffin rattling noisily in their bags.