Assamese classic Burhi Aair Xadhu breaks new ground with Arabic edition

Over a hundred years ago, Lakshminath Bezbaroa, the towering figure of Assamese literature, affectionately called. Sahityarathi (the Charioteer of Letters), created a book that would come to define the storytelling heritage of a region. Burhi Aair Xadhu (Grandmother's Tales), first published in 1911, is not merely a collection of 30 folktales. It is a living archive of Assam's imagination, a cherished legacy that has shaped generations and preserved a way of life rich in wit, wisdom, and quiet humour. For decades, children in Assamese homes grew up listening to these tales of cunning jackals, proud kings, and quick- witted villagers, their eyes wide with wonder as the worlds within the stories unfolded.

Now, more than a century later, this beloved collection has crossed new frontiers, reaching readers far beyond its birthplace. In a historic milestone, Burhi Aair Xadhu has been translated into Arabic, becoming the first Assamese book ever to enter the Arab literary sphere.

When Bezbaroa compiled these tales, he was doing more than writing. At a time when Assamese language and culture were struggling to assert themselves under colonial dominance, he was preserving a living oral tradition passed down through generations. The tales, often narrated by grandmothers under flickering oil lamps, were more than bedtime stories - they carried the moral fibre and earthy humour of a community deeply attuned to Nature and human relationships. With their simple plots and memorable characters, these stories continue to impart timeless truths: that wit outshines brute strength, that pride often leads to downfall, and that kindness and humility are enduring virtues. It is this profound simplicity that allows Burhi Aair Xadhu to remain relevant even in our modern, fast-paced world.

For Assamese families, the book is more than literature; it is memory and identity. It evokes slow evenings when elders became storytellers, weaving magic for children who hung on to every word, their imagination blooming in the glow of lamp-lit nights.

Even today, amid smartphones and streaming platforms, Burhi Aair Xadhu continues to hold its own, a gentle reminder of a time when stories were a way of teaching, entertaining, and connecting generations.

The journey of Burhi Aair Xadhu beyond Assam began decades ago, with translations into Bengali, Hindi, and English, slowly introducing its charm to readers outside the region. Yet its recent leap into Arabic marks an extraordinary moment. This year, Abu Sayed Ansary, a young scholar from Sontuli in Kamrup Rural, Assam, translated this classic into Arabic. Currently pursuing his doctoral research at Jawaharlal Nehru University in New Delhi, Ansary's careful rendering of Bezbaroa's tales was published in Cairo, Egypt - a city where storytelling itself has a long, celebrated history, from ancient coffee houses to the enchanting pages of A Thousand and One Nights. This Arabic edition is more than a translation; it is a cultural bridge linking Assam's rich oral traditions with the Arab world's own love for timeless stories.

For Arabic readers, Burhi Aair Xadhu offers both novelty and familiarity. Rooted in the river valleys of the Brahmaputra, its stories reflect universal human themes. The cleverness of animals, the follies of kings, and the resourcefulness of ordinary villagers resonate across cultures where moral storytelling has always been treasured. From the deserts of Arabia to the verdant fields of Assam, these age-old truths remind us of our shared humanity.

This milestone prompts reflection: even the humblest tales from a small corner of India can carry a resonance that transcends geography and language. Stories, after all, have their own way of travelling-flowing from one culture to another, finding listeners wherever there is a heart open to wonder.

Yet it also raises questions about the future. In an age of screens and constant distractions, can the gentle voice of a grandmother telling tales still hold its place? Can folktales, with their simplicity and moral weight, stay relevant to children growing up in a digital world? Perhaps the growing international appeal of Burhi Aair Xadhu offers an answer. These stories, deeply rooted in the rhythms of Assamese life, remind us of the enduring power of narrative to preserve identities and connect civilisations.

Lakshminath Bezbaroa could hardly have imagined that his collection, born in the quiet villages of Assam, would one day be read in Arabic in the libraries of Cairo. Yet this is the timeless magic of stories - they cross borders effortlessly, flowing like rivers across continents and generations. From the paddy fields of Kamrup to the bookshops of Egypt, Burhi Aair Xadhu stands as proof that storytelling is not bound by place or time. It carries within its pages not only the voices of Assamese grandmothers but the living essence of a land where tales once rose and fell like the rhythms of breathing itself.

By

Jurir Ahmed