Mini and the Sacred Grove

MINI AND THE SACRED GROVE

Mini was woken up by the shout of “Chaaya, chaaya…!” She peeped through the window and was surprised to see the yellow board that read ‘Palakkad Junction’. The train was two hours late, but Mini was not bothered. She had always wanted to see the River Bharathapuzha in the morning light as it snaked through the green paddy fields and coconut plantations. As the train began to move, Mini woke up her elder sister Moni and both of them sat by the window, entranced by the natural beauty.
‘Everything looks so beautiful in the rays of the rising sun,’ thought Mini.
The ten-year-old eagerly looked forward to this annual trip to her grandparents’ home in Thrissur, Kerala, every summer. For Moni, who was slightly older than Mini, it was just a welcome change from Mumbai and school. But for Mini, it was one month of total bliss. The annual holiday was like one extended picnic: one day to the paddy fields with grandpa, the next day to the cashew orchards, another day to the coconut plantation with Uncle, visits to the village pond, temple, and other interesting places.
During these trips Mini observed in fascination how the water from the canal flowed into every field through tiny inlets, how effortlessly Moopan climbed one coconut tree after the other, how young boys and girls trapped fish in their towels at the pond…
But she always went back to Mumbai with a feeling of regret: that she had not visited the kaavu or the Sacred Grove adjoining the temple in her village.
Today as she thought of the kaavu, she recollected a conversation with her father and Moni a few months back. Father had said that the government had declared certain areas as Reserved Forests, Sanctuaries, and National Parks to protect the environment. But, he explained, more important than the government’s efforts were the local traditions that helped to protect patches or even vast areas of natural vegetation. He had explained that Indians believed nature to be sacred. And so, people in rural areas had marked out sacred groves for protection. These groves, called kaavu in Malayalam, were generally dedicated to a deity. It was sacrilege to disturb plants that grew there or kill the animals that lived there. “The sacred groves are the most effective way of preserving biodiversity at minimum expense, with the local people tending to them and protecting them,” Father had commented.
‘We must visit the kaavu this time. I shall ask Uncle to take us there one day,’ Mini thought as the train chugged along.
Soon they were at Thrissur. Once they were comfortably seated in Uncle’s car, Mini announced, “I want to see the kaavu.” No one seemed to have heard.
“I asked whether I could visit the kaavu this vacation?” she repeated.
“Why? Do you want to grow a moustache?” Mother demanded.
“Who said so?” Mini was defiant.
Her Uncle and Father, who had been talking, fell silent. They, too, wanted to know.
“Well, that’s what my grandmother used to say. Children who dared to enter the kaavu grew a moustache and beard when they came out. So my sisters and I never visited a kaavu, not even the one near our temple.”
Mini and Moni kept quiet but exchanged glances. Their eyes twinkled with mischief. Nothing was spoken about the kaavu during the rest of the journey to their ancestral house. But Mini’s little head was bustling with ideas and plans!
Days rolled by. Mini and Moni enjoyed themselves romping about the fields and plantations. But every time they went to the temple, Mini would longingly eye the tunnel-like entrance to the sacred grove. Oh! How she wished to go in and come out at the other end.
Then one day, curiosity got the better of the sisters. It was a lazy afternoon. The time seemed ripe for a visit to the kaavu.
The rest of the family was settling down to an afternoon siesta. “We’re off to the temple,” the girls announced as they hurried out of the house.
The temple was deserted. The girls lost no time. They ran into the kaavu. They did not stop till they were deep inside it. Mini felt the cool earth with amazement. “It does not feel like summer here at all,” she whispered to Moni.
When they got used to the darkness and quietness, they could hear the humming of bees and other insects. They could hear the birds crying from the branches of the trees and could see tiny creatures scurrying on the ground.
The kaavu was dark, except for the occasional ray of light that streamed in through the canopy of trees. The trees looked big and ancient. There were giant climbers around them. The whole place looked like one tangled mass of vegetation with trees, shrubs and creepers of different kinds. There were many flowers the girls had never seen before. Mini remembered her father saying that the sacred groves were a treasure house of rare and endangered species of trees and medicinal plants.
Moni whispered softly, “I hear a stream gurgling.”
Mini strained her ears and yes, she could hear it, too. Excited, they ran in the direction of the sound and nearly stumbled against a stone platform. There were several small figures of deities on the platform. Some of these looked like snake gods, with a serpent hood over their heads The girls folded their hands in prayer and turned to resume their search for the stream.
Just then Moni looked at her watch and exclaimed, “Oh no! It’s four o’clock! We should rush home before grandpa sends out a search party!”
As they walked towards their house, Mini stopped.
“Moni, have I grown a beard…or a moustache?” she asked, running her fingers on her cheeks.
“No!” said Moni, “have I?” “Indeed not. So, why did mother say we would?” Mini wondered aloud as they entered the house.
She waited till late in the night. When Mother was alone, she snuggled up to her and asked, “Moni and I had been to the kaavu today. And we haven’t grown a beard or moustache. Why did your grandmother lie about the beard and moustache?”
Mother drew Mini close and stroked her head gently. “Don’t call it a lie, my dear. My grandmother, and adults like her, might have feared that when children went into the kaavu, they might pluck a flower, or trample upon young saplings, or hurt a bird or animal. Or they might innocently invite trouble for themselves: there are snakes, insects and so many little creatures in the kaavu that might bite or sting a child. To make sure that children did not enter the kaavu, they made up frightening little stories of children who entered the kaavu growing beards!” Mini was convinced. She dropped off to sleep.
Another afternoon, Mini and Moni went to the sacred grove again to see the stream! And the kaavu made that particular summer vacation the most memorable one in their lives.


Sacred Groves exist all over the country. They are called kaavu in Kerala, deorais or deoban in Maharashtra and orans in Rajasthan. They vary in area from one square metre to about one million square meters.. They form a countrywide network of protected areas where the flora and fauna are preserved. But due to various pressures, sacred groves today are under threat. Before A.D. 1800 Kerala had about 15000 sacred groves. Today the numbers have dwindled to a mere 761!

Bina Thomas

Finders Keepers

Finders Keepers!
Bina Thomas ( binatho@gmail.com )

Often in our daily lives we come across instances which reveal great Truths. They bring us face to face with the teachings of Saints and Philosphers. And that is exactly what happened to Monu and his mother when they met a group of young boys from the neighbourhood slums. Read on to know what happened …….



Monu was engrossed in his search, when a gang of boys stopped him.
“Are you looking for this?” asked one of them. He held the `lost’ book.
“Yes, that’s mine!” Monu jumped at it.
“But now it’s ours,” said the boy shoving the book into his shirt, “and if you want it back you have to pay 50 rupees for it” he said.
“50? That is too high! My mother would never agree to pay that much.”
“How about 30?”
“Could we settle for 20 rupees?” Monu finally asked.
“Ok. Done.”
Monu heaved a sigh of relief. It all was his fault. While cycling home from the library, he did not realize when one of his story books fell off the bicycle carrier. On confiding to mom, she had suggested that he retrace the entire stretch between home and library once again and look for the book. The book must have dropped off at the hutments near the cross roads and was found by one of the boys.

Thus, the matter was settled. 20 rupees! Although Monu knew his mother wouldn’t be happy with this negotiation, he desperately wanted his book back. What if the library cancelled his membership because he lost a book? What if he had to pay the cost of the book? That would be much more an amount!

Monu told the young boys to wait at the same spot till he returned with the money. His mother was both angry and amused on hearing the demand. She decided to accompany her son. The boys were a little nervous on seeing an `Aunty’ accompanying their `prey’. But, they put up a strong front. Aunty too was prepared to explain to the boys that it was wrong to keep something that didn’t belong to them.

“But the book doesn’t belong to you”, Aunty pursued.
“And I am going to return it,” replied the young kid and sniggered. His gang giggled among themselves.
“But only for a price?” asked Aunty.
“Yes, 20 rupees,” he confirmed.
“Why?” Aunty wanted the kid to think and realize how unreasonable his demand was.

But his reply was quick!

“Madame, I am being honest and told the truth that I have the book,” said the boy. “It was your son who was careless and lost a book which does not even belong to him. I found it and kept it safe. It is now my property. I could sell it to any secondhand books store and make some money. But, I chose to return it to your son,” with complete confidence the young boy reasoned it out.

Aunty was speechless. It reminded her of an episode in the life of Gautama Buddha. Prince Siddharta, as the Buddha was known when he was young, once saved a bird which was shot down by his cousin Devadratta. When Devdratta made his claim for the bird, Siddharta refused to part with the helpless creature. The matter then went to court. The young princes had to present their case. Siddharta said that since he had saved the bird from death and thus given it a new life the bird should be allowed to remain in his care. The court was adjourned in Siddharta’s favour, because, a Protector is nobler than a Destroyer.

Aunty was so impressed by the young lad’s reply that she could not resist but give him the 20 rupees he expected. “This is for your honesty and fearlessly speaking your mind,” she said.

Mini and the Sacred Grove

MINI AND THE SACRED GROVE

Mini was woken up by the shout of “Chaaya, chaaya…!” She peeped through the window and was surprised to see the yellow board that read ‘Palakkad Junction’. The train was two hours late, but Mini was not bothered. She had always wanted to see the River Bharathapuzha in the morning light as it snaked through the green paddy fields and coconut plantations. As the train began to move, Mini woke up her elder sister Moni and both of them sat by the window, entranced by the natural beauty.
‘Everything looks so beautiful in the rays of the rising sun,’ thought Mini.
The ten-year-old eagerly looked forward to this annual trip to her grandparents’ home in Thrissur, Kerala, every summer. For Moni, who was slightly older than Mini, it was just a welcome change from Mumbai and school. But for Mini, it was one month of total bliss. The annual holiday was like one extended picnic: one day to the paddy fields with grandpa, the next day to the cashew orchards, another day to the coconut plantation with Uncle, visits to the village pond, temple, and other interesting places.
During these trips Mini observed in fascination how the water from the canal flowed into every field through tiny inlets, how effortlessly Moopan climbed one coconut tree after the other, how young boys and girls trapped fish in their towels at the pond…
But she always went back to Mumbai with a feeling of regret: that she had not visited the kaavu or the Sacred Grove adjoining the temple in her village.
Today as she thought of the kaavu, she recollected a conversation with her father and Moni a few months back. Father had said that the government had declared certain areas as Reserved Forests, Sanctuaries, and National Parks to protect the environment. But, he explained, more important than the government’s efforts were the local traditions that helped to protect patches or even vast areas of natural vegetation. He had explained that Indians believed nature to be sacred. And so, people in rural areas had marked out sacred groves for protection. These groves, called kaavu in Malayalam, were generally dedicated to a deity. It was sacrilege to disturb plants that grew there or kill the animals that lived there. “The sacred groves are the most effective way of preserving biodiversity at minimum expense, with the local people tending to them and protecting them,” Father had commented.
‘We must visit the kaavu this time. I shall ask Uncle to take us there one day,’ Mini thought as the train chugged along.
Soon they were at Thrissur. Once they were comfortably seated in Uncle’s car, Mini announced, “I want to see the kaavu.” No one seemed to have heard.
“I asked whether I could visit the kaavu this vacation?” she repeated.
“Why? Do you want to grow a moustache?” Mother demanded.
“Who said so?” Mini was defiant.
Her Uncle and Father, who had been talking, fell silent. They, too, wanted to know.
“Well, that’s what my grandmother used to say. Children who dared to enter the kaavu grew a moustache and beard when they came out. So my sisters and I never visited a kaavu, not even the one near our temple.”
Mini and Moni kept quiet but exchanged glances. Their eyes twinkled with mischief. Nothing was spoken about the kaavu during the rest of the journey to their ancestral house. But Mini’s little head was bustling with ideas and plans!
Days rolled by. Mini and Moni enjoyed themselves romping about the fields and plantations. But every time they went to the temple, Mini would longingly eye the tunnel-like entrance to the sacred grove. Oh! How she wished to go in and come out at the other end.
Then one day, curiosity got the better of the sisters. It was a lazy afternoon. The time seemed ripe for a visit to the kaavu.
The rest of the family was settling down to an afternoon siesta. “We’re off to the temple,” the girls announced as they hurried out of the house.
The temple was deserted. The girls lost no time. They ran into the kaavu. They did not stop till they were deep inside it. Mini felt the cool earth with amazement. “It does not feel like summer here at all,” she whispered to Moni.
When they got used to the darkness and quietness, they could hear the humming of bees and other insects. They could hear the birds crying from the branches of the trees and could see tiny creatures scurrying on the ground.
The kaavu was dark, except for the occasional ray of light that streamed in through the canopy of trees. The trees looked big and ancient. There were giant climbers around them. The whole place looked like one tangled mass of vegetation with trees, shrubs and creepers of different kinds. There were many flowers the girls had never seen before. Mini remembered her father saying that the sacred groves were a treasure house of rare and endangered species of trees and medicinal plants.
Moni whispered softly, “I hear a stream gurgling.”
Mini strained her ears and yes, she could hear it, too. Excited, they ran in the direction of the sound and nearly stumbled against a stone platform. There were several small figures of deities on the platform. Some of these looked like snake gods, with a serpent hood over their heads The girls folded their hands in prayer and turned to resume their search for the stream.
Just then Moni looked at her watch and exclaimed, “Oh no! It’s four o’clock! We should rush home before grandpa sends out a search party!”
As they walked towards their house, Mini stopped.
“Moni, have I grown a beard…or a moustache?” she asked, running her fingers on her cheeks.
“No!” said Moni, “have I?” “Indeed not. So, why did mother say we would?” Mini wondered aloud as they entered the house.
She waited till late in the night. When Mother was alone, she snuggled up to her and asked, “Moni and I had been to the kaavu today. And we haven’t grown a beard or moustache. Why did your grandmother lie about the beard and moustache?”
Mother drew Mini close and stroked her head gently. “Don’t call it a lie, my dear. My grandmother, and adults like her, might have feared that when children went into the kaavu, they might pluck a flower, or trample upon young saplings, or hurt a bird or animal. Or they might innocently invite trouble for themselves: there are snakes, insects and so many little creatures in the kaavu that might bite or sting a child. To make sure that children did not enter the kaavu, they made up frightening little stories of children who entered the kaavu growing beards!” Mini was convinced. She dropped off to sleep.
Another afternoon, Mini and Moni went to the sacred grove again to see the stream! And the kaavu made that particular summer vacation the most memorable one in their lives.


Sacred Groves exist all over the country. They are called kaavu in Kerala, deorais or deoban in Maharashtra and orans in Rajasthan. They vary in area from one square metre to about one million square meters.. They form a countrywide network of protected areas where the flora and fauna are preserved. But due to various pressures, sacred groves today are under threat. Before A.D. 1800 Kerala had about 15000 sacred groves. Today the numbers have dwindled to a mere 761!

Bina Thomas