Ama Ñamo & The Tale of the Long-Lost Cousins
Adventures of Attu & Rattu
“Brrrrrruuuuup! Oooops, I think I ate too much!” exclaimed Attu, grinning sheepishly. “You really can’t get enough of Ama Ñamo’s delicious dal and rice, can you?”
Rattu, however, looked a little puzzled. How would I know? he thought to himself. I’m just happy savouring the thuklhak—the best food in this whole wide world!
He glanced over at Kattu, who was thoroughly engrossed, head buried in his bowl. Both exchanged a knowing look and, as if on cue, nodded in unison.
“I wonder how she learnt to make such delicious daal and rice? Ama la says we don’t eat daal and rice in Tibet!” mused Attu, his curiosity piqued.
“That’s absolutely right, Bhudugma!” chimed in Ama Ñamo, her voice warm with a hint of nostalgia. “I learnt all these dishes after coming to India. One of my neighbours taught me when we were living in Palchaan many years ago.”
“Ama Ñamo, is Tibet just behind Shaal Gaon, where my friends and I skate in winter?” exclaimed Attu, his face lighting up with excitement.
“Hmmm, maybe just behind that big mountain you see on the horizon,” said Ama Ñamo, smiling at his enthusiasm.
“Hmmmm, that means I can try crossing that mountain once I’m a bit older. What do you think, Ama Ñamo?” Attu enquired, his eyes wide with curiosity.
“That sounds like a great idea, little Attu!” said Ama Ñamo, her tone playful yet encouraging.
“My friends say this is India where we are right now, so does that mean Tibet is behind that big mountain of Manali?” Attu asked, his curiosity growing.
Rattu and Kattu, who had been quietly listening, perked up their ears. Their tails wagged slowly as if they, too, were pondering the thought.
“You’re quite right,” said Ama Ñamo, her voice soft but firm.
“So, it’s not far from Manali, is it?” Attu’s eyes sparkled with a mix of hope and determination.
“Hmmm, maybe we can try crossing that mountain with Akhu Kekey while fetching wood from the jungle high up in Shaal Gaon,” thought Attu to himself.
Rattu and Attu exchanged a knowing glance, their minds already buzzing with the possibilities of a new adventure.
“By the way, do you know a story about two long-lost cousins from Tibet and India?” asked Ama Ñamo, her voice tinged with mystery.
“Ooooo… that sounds exciting! Please, please, tell us more!” Attu exclaimed, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. “I completely forgot to remind you about storytelling all this while!”
Rattu and Kattu, their tails wagging, joined in eagerly. Their raised eyebrows and perked-up ears showed they were ready for a tale as well.
“OK! Listen very carefully,” Ama Ñamo began, her voice lowering as though she was about to reveal a secret. “By the way, have you ever seen a yak?” she asked, her eyes twinkling.
“Not sure, Ama Ñamo. Is it an animal?” Attu asked, his curiosity piqued.
“Yes, it is! How about a buffalo then?” she continued.
“Not sure, Ama Ñamo. Is it like a sheep?” Attu ventured, scratching his head.
“Hmmmm, not quite. It's much bigger than that,” Ama Ñamo explained.
“Then much like a cow, I guess?” Attu added, trying to piece together the puzzle.
“Quite close, Bhudugma!” she exclaimed with a laugh.
“Oh, we’ve seen plenty of cows in Shaal Gaon! The locals use them for milk and farming,” Attu shared proudly.
“Now you’re getting warmer! What else do you know about them?” Ama Ñamo encouraged.
“Ahhh, they’re very big and bulky. They come in different colours, and some look a bit scary too,” Attu replied, his face lighting up with the memory.
I was almost crushed by a cow one day when they were flocking towards the pasture nearby, chuckled Rattu, glancing at Kattu, whose tail twitched as if he were in on the joke.
“OK, now imagine that a yak and a buffalo almost look similar, and they’re almost as big as a cow,” shared Ama Ñamo with a grin.
“Oh, I know! I know! You’re going to tell us a story about a yak and a buffalo, aren’t you, Ama Ñamo?” Attu said, practically bouncing with excitement.
This is going to be exciting, Rattu thought to himself. Should I imagine the face of a cow while listening to the story?
“You can actually,” Ama Ñamo said, sensing Rattu’s curiosity. “Let me start the story then.”
Rattu paused, puzzled. He couldn’t help but wonder if Ama Ñamo was like the Bodhisattva Bee, who could somehow read their minds.
“OK, here it goes!” Ama Ñamo began, her voice filled with mystery.
Ama Ñamo leaned forward, her eyes twinkling with the secret of a good story. Attu, Rattu, and Kattu leaned in too, their ears perked, all attention on the tale about to unfold.
“Well, now,” began Ama Ñamo, her voice soft but full of mischief. “Here’s a story about a yak and a buffalo. You see, I grew up looking after yaks in a remote nomadic land in Kham, Tibet, and this was actually the first Tibetan folk tale I ever heard. Are you ready for it?”
Attu, his mind already racing with curiosity, looked at Rattu, who was wagging his tail in anticipation. Kattu’s ears were up too, though he was still busy licking his paws. The three were a picture of eager attentiveness.
“Once upon a time, both the yak and the buffalo lived together in the great plains of India,” Ama Ñamo continued, her voice taking on the rhythm of a well-loved tale. “The land was rich, with all the green pastures they could ever dream of and clean, sparkling water to drink throughout the year. They had everything they needed for a good, happy life.”
Attu, his eyes as wide as saucers, leaned forward and asked, “But Ama Ñamo, you said it’s a story about long-lost cousins—so, why did they get separated?”
Ama Ñamo chuckled. “Ah, that's the twist! You see, there was one thing they didn’t have. One thing they both longed for terribly…” She paused for effect, watching Attu and Rattu lean in even further. “Salt. The one thing that their land couldn’t provide.”
Attu gasped. “Salt? But why couldn’t they just… buy it from somewhere?”
“Ha! I see you’re thinking like a modern-day thinker,” Ama Ñamo said with a smile. “But back then, it was a different story. So, one day, the yak, being the clever fellow he was, decided to go to Tibet in search of salt. He told his cousin, the buffalo, ‘I’ll go and find enough salt for both of us, and I’ll return when I’ve gathered enough.’”
Attu’s eyes widened. “And the buffalo let him go? Just like that?”
“Well, not exactly,” Ama Ñamo grinned. “The yak had one condition. He needed all the buffalo’s hair to protect him from the freezing cold of Tibet. The buffalo, with a heart as big as the plains themselves, agreed without hesitation and gave away every strand of his fur to the yak. All of it!”
"Ah! Tibet must be terribly cold," Attu thought to himself. "I’ll have to remind Akhu Kekey if we ever plan to venture beyond that mountain behind Shaal Gaon.”
Rattu’s tail wagged furiously, as if he too would’ve offered his fur for a good cause. Kattu, ever the quiet one, looked on thoughtfully.
“And off the yak went,” Ama Ñamo continued, her voice dropping to a more mysterious tone. “He travelled to Tibet, to the cold, snowy mountains, to find the precious salt. But do you know what happened, dear ones?”
Attu and Rattu exchanged puzzled glances. “What?”
“Well, the yak never returned.” Ama Ñamo paused dramatically. “He found the salt, alright, and settled down in the mighty Himalayas, forgetting all about his cousin back in the plains.”
“What?! He never came back?” Attu cried out in disbelief.
“Never. And so, the poor buffalo waited. He waited and waited, thinking that his cousin would return with the salt, just like he promised.” Ama Ñamo’s voice softened, as if telling a sad secret. “But the buffalo waited so long that his head started turning, always looking to the north, waiting for the yak to come back from those mountains.”
Attu stared, wide-eyed. “So that’s why buffaloes always look like they’re staring into the distance?”
“Yes, dear Bhudugma!” Ama Ñamo said, tapping him lightly on the head. “That’s right. And, here’s another thing… the buffalo, having lost all his hair to the yak, grew only a few sparse tufts on his body. Meanwhile, the yak, up in Tibet, grew thick and luxurious fur, wrapped warmly in the chilly air.”
Attu’s mouth dropped open. “So that’s why yaks have so much fur, and buffaloes have so little?”
“Exactly!” Ama Ñamo smiled, leaning back contentedly. “And every buffalo now looks as though his head is forever turned, waiting for his cousin from the north, lost in the snow-capped mountains of Tibet.”
Attu and Rattu sat in stunned silence for a moment, digesting the tale. Kattu, who had been sitting quietly all along, looked at them both, his head slightly tilted, as if pondering his own distant cousin, wherever he may be.
“So, in a way, they are still waiting for each other,” Attu said, his voice thoughtful.
Ama Ñamo nodded, her eyes twinkling. “Yes, dear. In a way, they are.”
Attu, Rattu, and Kattu sat quietly, their heads brimming with thoughts about the Yak and Buffalo—those long-lost cousins separated by the great mountains. The story stirred something deep within them, and Attu wondered aloud, “Do you think we might have some long-lost cousins out there too, Ama Ñamo?”
Ama Ñamo chuckled softly, her warm eyes twinkling. “Who knows, Bhudugma. The world is vast, and life often has strange ways of surprising us. But for now, I think Ama la might be wondering where you’ve wandered off to. It’s time to head home.”
Reluctantly, Attu stood up, brushing off crumbs from his red worn-out track pant. Rattu and Kattu wagged their tails in agreement, as if understanding the call of home. “Thukjeychey for the story, Ama Ñamo!” Attu said with a wide grin. “It’s the best story ever!”
As they walked back, the familiar beaten path around the Gompa road felt almost magical under the soft twilight. The prayer flags fluttered in the cool evening breeze, their whispered chants mingling with the soft jingling of Attu’s chakkar. Rattu trotted alongside, occasionally glancing up at Attu as if sharing his musings, while Kattu paused halfway, looked back at them thoughtfully, gave a wag of farewell, and then turned around, heading back to Ama Ñamo’s home.
When they reached home, Ama la greeted them with her usual warmth. “Where have you two been all day? I was beginning to worry!”
Attu plopped down beside her and launched into an animated recount of their day. He spoke of Ama Ñamo’s daal and rice, the playful antics of Kattu, and of course, the tale of the Yak and Buffalo. Rattu barked in agreement at all the right moments, while Ama la listened with a smile that grew with every word.
As night fell, Attu and Rattu prepared for bed, their minds still lingering on the story. “We should remind Yak to visit Buffalo when we go to Tibet,” Attu murmured, his eyes heavy with sleep. Rattu wagged his tail in response, as if to say, Yes, and we must ask Buffalo if it has any message for Yak when we find one in Manali someday.
With those thoughts swirling in their heads, the two drifted into dreams. Attu imagined a grand reunion between Yak and Buffalo, with fields of lush green grass and the scent of salt in the air. Rattu, nestled close, dreamed of distant mountains and the adventures yet to come.
The night was calm, and under the starlit sky, the promise of new journeys shimmered faintly, waiting for morning to arrive.
Glossary:
- Ama Ñamo (ཨ་མ་ན་མོ།): Translates to ‘A young mother’ in Tibetan, likely in the Kham dialect.
- Palchaan: A place some 30 kms towards Rohtang Pass from Manali, Himachal Pradesh, India.
- Akhu (ཨ་ཁུ་): Paternal uncle in Tibetan, also used to address someone with respect.
- Bhudugma (བུ་སྡུག་མ་): Refers to ‘An adorable boy’ in Tibetan, especially in the Kham dialect.
- Chakkar: A handmade toy crafted from a thin iron steel rod with a knot at one end. A small wheel (often repurposed from a vehicle) is inserted into the knot. The toy is operated by pushing the rod, with the knotted part serving as a base to propel the wheel forward.
- Gompa (དགོན་པ་): A Buddhist monastery or learning centre.To read the intent behind this post, click here.