Of crows, and people

A reimagining of Tharu folklore that draws from past and present injustices before wisdom finally prevails

Photo: SHIKHAR BHATTARAI

Prawin Adhikari’s new novel, Budhani, is a compelling and compassionate act of reinterpretation, reimagining a tale from indigenous folklore that draws its power from age-old fables of good versus evil and wisdom versus wilful ignorance.

In the first part of the book, Budhani, a name taken from the Tharu stories that inspired the author, the eponymous crow is born. We hear her inner, most personal thoughts as she grows from little chick to young, preening crow, learning temperance and tenderness from those around her as she comes of age. All the while, she retains a kernel of fierce independence deep inside amidst the all too familiar norms and expectations of the animal world. 

Budhani, the adult crow, continues to cherish the succour that nature provides, revelling in it. As with all adults, she begins to understand the suffering that can arise from the crueler nature of those who ought to care for her wellbeing. The whole story, both the imagining of the animal world, and later Budhani’s place in it, draws inspiration from speculative fiction, encompassing fantasy and science fiction, bringing alive a world that is parallel to ours, but just a little different. 

Adhikari has a keen affinity for nature that informs his writing. We are drawn into the world of the crows as surely as we might have been into those of a human. The bond between crow characters is effortlessly defined, and friendships and relationships, between people, and between animals and human, are so nuanced as to bring tears to the eyes.

In the way of speculative fiction, the writer must be cognizant of every nook and cranny of his made up world to convince the reader, as those who love N.K. Jemisin and Ursula K. LeGuin will know. Any hint that the creator might not know every goddess and princeling in the world he is defining, or may not carry every small detail of the nature of the trees, skies and creatures of this realm in his mind, causes cognitive dissonance for the reader - resulting in a failure to convince. 

This writer succeeds in his world building, but while the characters are incredibly specific, the natural world of the jungle sometimes drifts into something more generic. Regardless of these occasional generalisms, this part of the book is both captivating and heart-wrenching, setting us up for the second half when Budhani manifests as a girl. 

Without giving away major plot points (the two-part structure of the book is clear to anyone who opens the book), the girl Budhani is as vital, clever, and curious as her former bird incarnation. She grows up in a loving micro-family that is further strengthened by the strong Tharu community around her. 

She becomes sage through hard knocks, and profound friendships. She learns the law of the jungle, but she is no wide-eyed Mowgli. Instead, she is once again nursed to wisdom by the innate, indigenous knowledge handed down to her by her Tharu elders who live at peace with the land, taking the idyllic but also harsh, agrarian way of life in stride and adapting with graceful acceptance, their ethos never quelled.  

This half of the story is anchored by exceptional research on the part of the writer. Every nuance of daily life in the world of Budhani’s village rings true, along with the precious indigenous knowledge that is imparted along the way. When she must leave her beloved village to face the inconstant, arbitrary justice of the king, that court smacks vividly of so many other courts in humanity’s past and present. It is at this archetypal court of the inane, indolent king, led by his supposedly learned, cruel, priest that Budhani finally comes into her own. 

Budhani’s journey has a happy ending, but be warned, there is anguish in these pages. Animal lovers and the kind of heart will suffer an aching feeling in the chest while reading. However, as is in the best of such tales, each loss metamorphoses into something else, coming full circle, balanced by karma, leaving the reader wishing that such things were true even in the real world. 

As a fable, which always has a lesson, there are too many to list here, but as an allegory, there is one learning of critical importance. Encapsulated in the tale of Budhani is the tale of Nepal and the injustices that have been wrought upon her nature, her indigenous peoples, her female and girl folk, and all those who do not have the ability to speak truth to power like Budhani does. With this teaching, rest assured, this story will transform the reader, young and old. 

Budhani is gripping, it is tragic, it is beautiful, and it is wise. The book is sometimes didactic but gentled by the framework of the fable, and uplifted by the unforgettable character who first claws and then walks her way into the reader's heart, her every struggle, small and large, coming alive for us. We cannot help but invest in this marvelously drawn, feisty, undaunted character and all those she loves so fiercely. 

Adhikari’s writing has always been inspired by the minutiae of life, whether urban or in the village. He is the rarest of writers in that he writes equally well in English and in Nepali. This affinity for both languages enriches his novels in a way that someone writing in English, but with a lesser grasp of the Nepali language, may not be able to convey. 

This particular writer’s portrayal of Tharu folktales, therefore, becomes an invaluable part of the canon of Nepali writers writing in English with its nuanced ear for language, its keen eye for detail and the deep responsibility it bears for translating the stories of one culture for the eyes of others. 

Cultural appropriation is very real, but Adhikari’s Budhani transmogrifies without appropriating. Enriched by Lavkant Chaudhary’s thoughtful, playful illustrations, and further authenticated by Indu Tharu’s retelling of Budhani into the Tharu language, this enchanting, tragic, memorable story will carve a place in your heart. 

Both English and Tharu editions are published by Safu, an imprint of Quixote’s Cove.

Sophia L. Pandé is a writer, art-historian and filmmaker. She consults on the Cultural and Creative Industries. She is Director of Development at the Kathmandu Valley Preservation Trust, and the Founding Director of The Kalā Salon (a non-profit space for the arts).