Bonbibi, the Forest Goddess

Bhuwan

“Bhuwan! O Bhuwan! Where are you?” Malti looked out of the bamboo door of the thatched mud hut. The scorching heat of the April sun made her squint as she tried to locate her son in a nearby paddy field. She guarded her eyes with her palm, bent a little forward and saw him busily ploughing the small field with his bullock.
“Bhuwan! Come over and have your lunch!”
Tiredly she walked back into the hut.
“Coming Ma!” replied the hungry son.
Before long, he returned and tied the bullock in the shed. He entered the hut and emerged from it with a fresh cotton dhoti thrown on his shoulder.
“Don’t take too long at the river,” pleaded Malti.
“Just a quick swim and back home, Ma. Keep my food ready!” he yelled and sprinted towards the river.
“And don’t go near the jungle,” Malti warned. It was her daily ritual, but Bhuwan was already out of earshot.
Malti went inside with a small sigh. She had lost her husband at an early age. Bhuwan, her only son, worked in the lumberyard of a local zamindar or landlord in Jharsuguda. The zamindar was a kind man and Bhuwan’s salary was satisfactory. What else could a poor mother ask for? The only duty left for her was to arrange Bhuwan's marriage to his childhood sweetheart Lakshmi, the neighbour’s doe-eyed daughter. 'Maybe they'll get married this winter,' she thought hopefully.
Bhuwan was an energetic nineteen year old boy, dark of face, lean and tall of countenance and jovial by nature. He was universally liked by one and all. He was a special favourite of Sameer, Zamindar Babu’s youngest son, whom he addressed ‘Chhota Sahib’ or Young Master. Sameer was just a couple of years older than him, tall, well built and handsome. He was a college student in Kolkata and visited his hometown during the vacations. The difference of rank did not create a barrier between their friendship.

The Lore
Bhuwan reached the river bank within ten minutes. It was a small and seasonal river, a minor tributary of the Mahanadi. The forest lay beyond its other bank. Animals sometimes came to the river at daybreak to drink water. But there was not much water left in it in the hot and dry month of April . By the end of May the river would completely dry up. People and animals would then be walking on the dried up river bed. But during the monsoon months, the force and volume of water increased alarmingly and often caused floods.
In spite of his mother's repeated warnings Bhuwan felt a strong attraction towards the jungle. “Avoid the jungle son,” she often said. “Jungles are the habitats of wild animals and we have no right to disturb them. It is the protected area of Bonbibi, the jungle goddess, and she isn’t kind to trespassers. She is vengeful in nature and her wrath brings sorrow and destruction to anybody who dares to harm any of her subjects, the wild animals. So it is better to stay away from that area.”
Bhuwan, as a child, felt awed by the different stories he heard about Bonbibi. He was scared of the dark jungle and had terrible dreams about Bonbibi in his sleep. He visualised her as a fiercely beautiful lady wearing a gorgeous red sari and heavy ornaments, holding a big sword menacingly in her right hand and was mounted on a huge, ferocious tiger. Both the goddess and her tiger seemed to be waiting for their next prey. Sometimes her face and the tiger’s face merged to become one and then...