Dasara and Bathukamma

Told in English, Telugu.

In a small house near the pond in a Telugu village, Dasara had arrived, and everyone was busy.

Seven year old Sravya stood beside Ammamma in front of a set of wooden steps covered with a bright silk saree. This was their bommala koluvu, their doll display, and it had nine steps going up like a little staircase.

On the lower steps sat clay farmers with their bullocks, a wedding procession with tiny drummers, a parrot, and a fat little Ganesha holding a sweet. Higher up were Rama, Sita and Lakshmana, and Krishna playing his flute. And on the very top step, in the place of honour, stood the most beautiful doll of all. Durga Amma, riding her golden lion, with many arms and a kind, brave face.

"She is my favourite," said Sravya.

"Mine too," said Ammamma, smiling.

That afternoon, Lakshmi Aunty from next door came over with her daughter Bhavana. They carried a huge basket of flowers, yellow tangedu, purple and white gunuga, and orange banti. Today was Saddula Bathukamma, the biggest day of Bathukamma, and in the evening all the women and girls would gather by the pond to sing.

"Come, Sravya," said Bhavana. "Help us build the Bathukamma!"

Sravya clapped her hands. But just as she turned to go, she looked up at the koluvu, and her heart gave a jump.

The top step was empty.

"Ammamma!" she cried. "Durga Amma is gone!"

Everyone came running. They looked behind the steps. They looked under the silk saree. They looked inside the box where the dolls slept all year. No Durga Amma. No golden lion.

Sravya's eyes filled with tears. "What if she broke? What if she's lost forever?"

Ammamma knelt down and held her close. "We will find her, kanna. Let us search together. And while we search, shall I tell you why Durga Amma sits at the very top?"

Sravya sniffed and nodded.

"Long, long ago," Ammamma began, as they peeped into corners, "there was a proud demon king named Mahishasura. He could change into a huge buffalo, and he had a boon that made him very hard to defeat. He grew greedy and bossy. He chased the gods out of heaven and made everyone afraid."

"That's not fair," said Sravya, looking under a chair.

"Not fair at all. So the gods came together. Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva, and all the others. They each gave a little of their own shining power, and from all that light together, a great goddess appeared. That was Durga Amma."

"From everyone's light?" asked Bhavana.

"From everyone's light," said Ammamma. "Then each god gave her a gift. Shiva gave his trident. Vishnu gave his spinning discus. Indra gave his thunderbolt. And the mountain king gave her a mighty lion to ride. She had one weapon for each hand."

Sravya forgot to cry. "Was she scared?"

"She was brave, which is better than not being scared. For nine days and nine nights, she faced Mahishasura. He kept changing shape, but she never gave up. And on the tenth day, she won. Goodness won. That is why the tenth day is called Vijayadashami, the day of victory. And that is why, for nine nights, we keep her on the highest step."

Just then, Sravya heard a little giggle from the verandah.

She tiptoed out. There, beside the big flower basket, sat her little brother Chintu. And in his lap, safe and whole, was Durga Amma on her golden lion.

"Chintu!" said Sravya. "We were so worried!"

Chintu looked up with big eyes. "Durga Amma was all alone up high. I wanted her to see the pretty flowers."

Sravya wanted to be cross, but she couldn't. She sat down next to him. "That was kind, Chintu. But next time, you must ask. Shall we put her back together?"

Chintu nodded, and the two of them carried Durga Amma back to the top step. Everyone cheered.

Now it was time for Bathukamma. On a big brass plate, Lakshmi Aunty laid a wide circle of yellow tangedu flowers. Then Bhavana added a ring of purple gunuga. Sravya added orange banti. Round and round, ring upon ring, each one a little smaller, until the flowers rose up like a colourful temple tower. On the very top, Ammamma placed a small mound of turmeric for Gauramma.

"It looks like a mountain of rainbows," whispered Chintu.

In the evening, the women and girls of the village came to the pond in their bright pattu langas and sarees, each carrying a Bathukamma. They placed them all in the middle and stood in a big circle around them. Then they clapped and sang and moved round and round. Sravya clapped along with Bhavana. Can you clap with her? Bathukamma Bathukamma uyyalo!

When the singing ended, the families gently floated their flower towers on the pond. The Bathukammas bobbed on the water, glowing in the lamp light, like little boats carrying everyone's prayers.

Sravya looked at all of them together. "Ammamma," she said softly, "it's just like Durga Amma. Everyone's flowers together make something beautiful."

Ammamma hugged her. "You understood the whole festival, kanna."

A few days later came Vijayadashami. Sravya and Chintu went around the village with jammi leaves, giving them to elders and bending to touch their feet. "Bangaram teesuko," they said. Take this gold. And everyone blessed them with laughter and sweets.

That night, before bed, Sravya peeped at the koluvu one last time. Durga Amma sat safe on the top step, her lion shining.

"Goodnight, Durga Amma," she whispered. "Thank you for being brave."

And the brave goddess seemed to smile.