Snake- mongoose fight

I must have been around ten years old and my brother a little older then. Those days people in Khalari purchased vegetables and meat from the weekly haat. The open air bazaar was full of activity throughout the day with people swarming to make their purchases. I had been to this haat several times with my father, holding his hand, jostling our way into the different parts. Vegetables, spices, fish, chicken, mutton, rice, bangles to clothes, almost everything was available. This part of the haat was tiresome and unexciting but attracted the most crowds. The other part of the haat was comparatively empty but compelling. That part exhibited the street shows and that too for free. Like any kid I wanted to visit that part but was never allowed. The beat of the captivating dug-dugi (monkey drum) followed by alluring announcements “Snake –Mongoose fight starting” made my heart race towards such thrilling sports but had no guts to shake off my hand from my father’s clasp. Venturing to the haat on our own was strictly prohibited as one had to cross the busy road with coal filled trucks plying round the clock. The desire remained unfulfilled until one day…

My father entered the house with two bags full of vegetables- spinach and mustard leaves drooping out. The bustling house turned silent, his presence at home was dreadful. I and my brother busied ourselves pretending to be studying hard. While my mother was emptying the bags, it was discovered that coriander leaves were missing. In a typical Bengali house curry without toppings of coriander leaves is just not acceptable. So, revisit to the haat was inescapable for my father, but he was perhaps too tired for this. It was therefore decided that both of us, me and my brother would go to the haat to buy coriander leaves. We set off to the journey after the road safety instructions were doubly explained to us. We walked soberly till the first turn and after that sprinted towards the haat and into our new found freedom. The two rupee note tightly grasped in my hand we reached the haat in no time.

The coriander leaves could wait; we had more important things to attend. We headed straight towards the most fascinating part of the haat, the street show area. The beat of the dug-dugi pulled us to the show spot. “Snake- Mongoose fight, snake-mongoose fight” the showman kept announcing while playing the dug-dugi vigorously attracting more audience. The show area was encircled with few inches high cloth boundary. We perched on the dusty ground in the front row for the best and uninterrupted view.

The showman had an assistant, a boy of our age, who was sitting on a bench in the circle. Few boxes lay there and we assumed that the snake and mongoose would be somewhere inside those boxes. In no time the area was filled with curious onlookers. The showman now made few important announcements.

“No one should leave the show in between; if someone does he would fall with head over heels on the busy road”.

“Everyone should keep their fist clenched, no noise to be made, straight face and eyes not to be closed under any circumstances”

The facial animation of the showman turned aggressive and induced fear in me. I obeyed his every word and I’m sure so did my brother and the others. The show began, but it was not a “Snake-mongoose fight”, it was a magic show. The boy, his assistant was made to recline on the bench and was covered with a cloth. The showman then announced that he was going to cut out the heart of the boy.

I shivered in fear and had no courage to even turn towards my brother for some assurance. The showman’s blood thirsty hand with a knife entered the covered body; the boy appeared to be struggling, the whole bench and his body shook. The undertaking was successful; a blood soaked piece of flesh was extracted and displayed prominently by the butcher. I felt like crying and running away but the fear of the fatal out comings paused my body and soul. The show continued, at one point the boy vanished and the showman allowed us to turn our head towards the top of a nearby tree where the boy had gone. I couldn’t see the boy there but assumed that he must be there. I had no courage to offend the showman even in my thoughts.

At last to our immense relief, the show ended. The boy, now turned normal, approached the audience for money. While he reached out to the audience, the showman made further announcement “If anyone leaves without giving money, I will cut out your heart”. My brother took a split second executive decision and instructed me to give the two rupees to the boy. I resisted “it was for buying coriander leaves”.

“He will take out our hearts” blurted my brother who was equally shaken. I had to relent; after all we had to save our hearts!

It was already dark when we walked into the house empty handed. We couldn’t explain our terrible adventure and the astonishing miracle of returning with our hearts securely inside us.

Beatings followed, my brother received the most and I was let go with mild thrashing. I was the younger one after all !!!