Bonoful

A tiger kept prowling around a village. So the people became frightened. The cow, the calf and even men were mauled to death by the tiger. Then everyone killed the tiger with sticks, spears, lances, and guns. One was gone but came another. At last, the People begged to God,

“God, Please, protect us from the tiger.”

The God said, Okay.

A moment later, the tiger made a complaint to God, “Men have inflicted torture on us. We have been running away in terror from one forest to another. The hunter always chases us. Please, save us from them.”

The God said, Okay.

Right away, Nera’s mother prayed to God, “Oh father, give my son, Nera, a beautiful bride. Please, Lord! I will make offerings of sirni (sweet) worth five poisha to you.”

The God said, Okay.

Harihar Bhattacharya was going to court to file a lawsuit against his nephew. He said to God, “I have been performing puja all my life. Also, I become frail due to fasting. I want to teach him a good lesson. Please, God, support me.”

The God Said, Okay.

Shushil will sit for exams. Every day, he said to God, “Master, make me pass the exams.” Today, he told God, “If you have the scholarship obtained me, I will conduct a horirlut*, spending five tk.”

The God said, Okay.

Haren Purakayastha wished to be the chairman of the District Board. He requested God via, Kali, a priest, “I need eleven votes!” Having received an honorarium, the priest, irritated God, pronouncing erroneous Sanskrit mantra.

The God said, Okay, Okay.

Farmers besought to god, “Make the rain fall.”

The God said, Okay.

A sick kid’s mother pleaded to God, “It’s my only child. Please, Lord, don’t take him away from me.”

The God said, Okay.

An elderly woman, aunt Khenti, from next door told God about the mother, “Hey Creator, she is an arrogant woman. Wearing new Jewelry, she swelled like a turkey-cock. You have done a great job by making her child suffer. Punish her a little more.”

The God said, Okay.

A yogi said, “Hi God, I want to unravel your mystery.”

The God said, Okay.

The Chinese implored God, “Defend us from the Japanese.”

The God said, Okay.

A novice writer from Bangladesh told God, “No editor publishes my write-ups. I long to publish them in the Probasi*. Tell Ramananda Babu to be sympathetic to me.”

The God said, Okay.

When the God had a scope, he said to the Brahma, sitting next to him, “Do you have pure mustard oil in your home?”

The Brahma said, “Yes. But why?”

The God: “I require it. Would you like to give me a little?”

The Brahma: “Sure.”

No sooner mustard oil came from Brahma’s adobe than the God poured a little into his nose and fell deep asleep.

He hasn’t woken up yet.

Probasi*- A Bengali literary magazine.
Horirlut*- A ritual of Hindu religion.