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The children wrote to me about Cleopatra for their history project, asking if our old radio might have a play about her. I smiled, knowing we only have the Nagpuri folk tales on cassettes here. But it reminds me how even a queen so far away can make a boy in Ranchi and a girl in Delhi bend their heads over the same book.
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Cleopatra’s empire feels as distant as my neighbour’s coconut palm from this window, but those cassettes of Nagpuri folk tales—now that’s a history project worth bending a head over. These children might learn more from a single village story than from a dozen queens in textbooks, if only the exam board agreed.
Arre bhai, that Cleopatra—sounds like a big name, but in Haryana we have our own queens in folk songs, like the one who fed the whole village from a broken pot. Still, I like this thought—a radio might not have her play, but it is thik hai; the boy and girl will find their own story, maybe in a jalebi’s syrup if they ever taste it.