Sacked! Folk Tales You Can Carry Around

Home > Other > Sacked! Folk Tales You Can Carry Around > Page 3
Sacked! Folk Tales You Can Carry Around Page 3

by Deepa Agarwal


  ‘Worrying won’t help you, mother,’ the daughter said. ‘I have an idea. If you do as I say, neither the tiger nor the bear nor the lion will be able to touch you. So stop being so nervous and eat to your heart’s content.’

  The old woman felt reassured and began to relish her daughter’s cooking. And by the time the month was over, she had actually become quite plump.

  When the day came for her to depart, her daughter went out to her fields and looked for the biggest pumpkin growing there – one large enough to hold the old woman. When she found one, she cut off the top and hollowed it out. Then she made her mother sit inside it and handed her a bag of salt and chilli powder. Then she put the top back, sealed it with dough and gave it a gentle push to set it rolling down the path.

  The old woman tumbled along happily inside the pumpkin, feeling quite safe.

  All of a sudden the lion, which had been waiting for her, appeared on the path. It stopped the pumpkin with a paw and asked:

  ‘Pumpkin, oh, pumpkin rolling on,

  Have you seen the old woman?

  She promised to come by this way,

  A month ago on this same day.’

  The old woman answered in a hollow voice, feeling quite confident that it couldn’t get to her:

  ‘Roll my pumpkin, roll you on!

  What do I know of this old woman?’

  The lion turned away and the pumpkin rolled on. But after some time, who should she encounter but the bear! It was sitting in the middle of the path, waiting for the old woman. The bear stopped the pumpkin, saying:

  ‘Pumpkin, oh, pumpkin rolling on,

  Have you seen the old woman?

  She promised to come by this way,

  A month ago on this same day.’

  Again, the old woman answered in a hollow voice:

  ‘Roll my pumpkin, roll you on!

  What do I know of this old woman?’

  The pumpkin rolled on till they came upon the tiger, pacing up and down the path, waiting for the old woman to arrive.

  The tiger, too, stopped the pumpkin and asked:

  ‘Pumpkin, oh, pumpkin rolling on,

  Have you seen the old woman?

  She promised to come by this way,

  A month ago on this same day.’

  Once again, the old woman answered from inside:

  ‘Roll my pumpkin, roll you on.

  What do I know of this old woman?’

  The tiger had been waiting for a long time and was very hungry. It got quite furious when it heard this and kicked the pumpkin hard. So hard that the pumpkin split into two and the old woman fell out.

  Now the lion and the bear had been following the pumpkin out of curiosity. When they saw the old woman, they rushed to pounce on her. But the tiger growled, ‘Keep off! I saw her first, I’m going to eat her!’

  The bear snarled, ‘No, she promised that I could eat her!’

  And the lion roared, ‘Get away! She promised me too!’

  The three of them began to quarrel amongst themselves, clawing and biting ferociously.

  The old woman knew that if she tried to run away, all three would chase her. And one of them would certainly catch hold of her. Thinking fast, she said, ‘Stop fighting, you three! Listen to me! I believe in keeping my promises, so I’ve thought of a good way to decide who is going to eat me. I’m going to climb that tree. You three should sit beneath it. I’ll jump off, and whoever catches me first can eat me.’

  The three animals agreed to the plan. They sat and waited under the tree while the old woman climbed up. All three kept their eyes wide open, fixed on her, to be the first to grab her when she jumped.

  The old woman stealthily opened her bag of chilli powder and salt. Then she called out, ‘Here I come!’

  As they got ready to catch her, she flung handfuls of salt and chilli powder on their upturned faces. The salt and chilli got into their eyes, which began to burn and sting so hard that they couldn’t see properly. Furious, the three began to roar and growl and bite and claw each other.

  The clever old woman climbed down quickly and ran all the way home!

  Why Did the Fish Laugh?

  A queen was standing by the window one day when she saw a fisherwoman pass by. Suddenly struck by a longing for fish, she called the woman and asked her to show her wares. As she peered into her basket, a large fish jumped up from the bottom of the basket.

  ‘What is it, male or female?’ the queen asked. ‘I want to buy a female fish.’

  To her astonishment, the fish laughed loudly.

  ‘It’s a male,’ the fisherwoman replied and went her way since the queen did not want to buy a male fish.

  But the queen was furious that the fish had dared to laugh at her question. She sulked the whole day, and even the king noticed that she was not in a good mood. He asked her the reason for her ill temper.

  ‘A very unpleasant thing happened today,’ she said. ‘I wanted to buy some fish and was looking at one, when it had the impertinence to laugh at me. If a mere fish can laugh at me, the queen, it means you have no authority in your kingdom.’

  ‘Are you sure you’re not imagining it all?’ the king asked. ‘I’ve never ever heard of a fish laughing.’

  ‘Well, this one certainly did,’ replied the queen. ‘Why would I make up such a silly story!’

  ‘Then this matter needs to be investigated,’ said the king.

  He sent for his prime minister and commanded him to find an answer to this question within six months or he would pay with his life.

  The poor minister had no choice but to obey. Puzzled and afraid, he set out to solve this riddle. ‘Why would a fish laugh?’ For the next five months, he sought out hundreds of scholars, astrologers, soothsayers, magicians, even fishermen and ordinary people. But no one had ever heard of a fish laughing, so not even the wisest person could solve the mystery. Thoroughly disheartened, he returned home and resigned himself to his fate. He knew that the king was a hard man and would not spare him. He was afraid that the king’s wrath would extend to his family members, so he advised his son to leave the capital city and travel to some remote part of the country, far from the king’s influence.

  The minister’s son fled the country hurriedly. On the way, he met an elderly farmer who was returning to his village. The two found each other good company and decided to walk together since it was a long and weary journey to the next city.

  As they tramped along, the young fellow turned to the farmer and said, ‘Our travel would be more enjoyable if we could carry each other once in a while.’

  Now the old farmer could make no sense of this statement, so he thought that the man was either light headed from the sun or an utter fool. He decided not to make any reply.

  They had trudged a short distance when they came to a field full of ripe, golden grain. Instead of remarking on the beautiful sight, the young man asked, ‘Has it been eaten or not?’

  ‘How would I know?’ replied the old man irritably, convinced that the young man was crazy.

  After some time, they reached a large city and went to the mosque hoping that someone would welcome them in. To their disappointment, they were totally ignored. The young man remarked, ‘This is a really big cemetery.’

  Further on, they came to an actual cemetery. Here, a group of people were distributing food to passers-by to honour their loved ones who were buried there. ‘What a wonderful city!’ exclaimed the young man.

  The farmer shook his head in amazement, for he was convinced that the young man was most certainly mad. Soon, they came to a stream, which they had to cross to continue further. The farmer removed his shoes and pajamas, not wanting to get them wet. But the young man waded through, without bothering to take his shoes or clothes off.

  Since the farmer had come to expect odd behaviour from him, he was not too surprised. Despite the young fellow’s eccentricities, the farmer had taken a liking to him. So, when the old man arrived at his village, he decided to invite him home.
/>
  True to form, the young fellow thanked him first, then asked, ‘If you don’t mind my inquiring, is the beam of your house strong?’

  Puzzled, the farmer gave him some vague reply and directed the man to his guest room. When he was alone with his family, he told them about the young man’s strange question. The farmer’s daughter was a very intelligent girl. She replied, ‘Father, he is actually asking if you possess the means to entertain a guest.’

  ‘Is that so?’ said the farmer. Then he repeated all the other puzzling statements the young man had made on the way. The girl interpreted them for him: ‘When he said you should carry each other, he meant you should tell stories to pass the time. Then, when he asked if the wheat was eaten or not, he wanted to know if the crop had been pledged to any creditor. The city where no one offered hospitality was like a place of the dead. But the cemetery where people offered you food was like a bustling city. And he did not take off his shoes at the stream because he did not want his feet to be cut by the sharp stones.’

  Then, to prove that the beam of their house was strong, the farmer’s daughter sent a servant to the young man with a bowl of porridge, a dozen chapattis and a jug of milk. She told him to say, ‘The moon is full, there are 12 months in a year and the sea is overflowing.’

  On the way, the servant met his little son and fed him most of the porridge, one chapatti and some milk. Then he went and gave it to the young man, along with the message.

  The young man replied, ‘Please thank your mistress. But tell her, the moon is new, I can only find 11 months in the year and the sea is far from full.’

  The servant delivered the message without understanding it and was scolded for his theft.

  Then the young man came out to pay his respects to the family. And while he was telling the farmer’s daughter the reason for his travels, he told her the story of the fish laughing.

  Immediately, the girl said, ‘I can tell you why the fish laughed at the queen’s question. It meant that there is a man in the women’s quarters and the king doesn’t know.’

  The young man jumped up at once. ‘Is that so? That means I can still save my father.’

  After taking leave of the farmer, he left for the city the very next day, taking the girl with him. He hurried to his father, who was preparing himself for certain death, and told him the answer. The minister in turn went to the king and gave him the answer. But the king refused to believe it and accused the minister of making up stories to save his life.

  ‘In that case,’ said the minister, ‘I propose a test. Please dig a large pit and ask all the women working in your palace to jump over it. You will catch the man by the way he jumps.’

  When the test was carried out, only one of the female attendants could jump over the pit. The rest failed. And she turned out to be a man – a thief who had hidden there looking for an opportunity to rob the royal treasure.

  Thus, the queen got an answer to her question and the minister’s life was saved – all because of the quick-witted farmer’s daughter. The young man asked her to be his wife, and they lived a long and happy life together.

  The Barber’s Secret

  A nawab, who ruled over a kingdom in northern India, was a wise and just king, highly respected by his subjects. But this highly respected ruler hid a terrible secret beneath his jewelled turban – a secret only his barber, Babban Hajjam, knew.

  The nawab possessed an unusual pair of ears – the long, hairy ears of a donkey! Babban Hajjam had been warned not to let this secret out under any condition.

  ‘I’ll have your head chopped off if you do!’ the king had declared with a threatening frown, the first time Babban Hajjam came to trim the king’s hair.

  ‘Never, Your Majesty!’ Babban Hajjam replied with a low bow. His voice shook as he squeaked, ‘I wouldn’t dare. Ever!’

  But as we all know, it’s not easy to keep a secret, especially one so extraordinary. If only my neighbour Mangru knew, Babban thought. How his eyes would pop. If only I could tell my dear wife. If only … As time passed, Babban Hajjam found it harder and harder not to tell someone about the king’s ears. Only the thought that he might lose his head made him keep his mouth shut.

  But the itch to let it out wouldn’t go away. And as time passed, the secret grew heavier and heavier in his belly. It was like a big ball of lead weighing him down. He couldn’t eat; he couldn’t sleep. And from a jolly, good-natured man who sang at his work, Babban Hajjam became a gloomy and irritable one.

  ‘What’s the matter, old friend?’ Mangru would ask. ‘You have grown pale and keep muttering to yourself. Anyone would think that you’d be floating on air, being the king’s barber.’

  Babban started up nervously. ‘It’s a great responsibility, being the king’s barber,’ he said with a frown.

  ‘What’s wrong with you?’ complained his wife. ‘You toss and turn all night and moan and groan as if your stomach was aching. Shall I make some digestive powder for you?’

  ‘Nothing wrong with me!’ Babban growled. But he was getting desperate now. This secret will be the death of me, he thought. And there is no one, simply no one I can share it with.

  Then one night, as he was tossing and turning as usual, a brilliant idea zipped through his mind. Why not share the secret with something or someone that couldn’t speak? Like, like a tree?

  He immediately jumped out of bed and hurried to a forest that lay just outside the city. Choosing a tall, dignified-looking tree, he whispered against its trunk, ‘Do you know, Tree Sahib, that our respected majesty, the great nawab, is blessed with the ears of a donkey? Did you hear? The ears of a donkey!’

  The tree waved its branches as if it had heard, and Babban Hajjam went home and had the soundest sleep he had had in a long, long time. The next day, he found that his appetite had returned – and his good humour as well!

  Then, one day, a woodcutter went to the forest to chop some wood. His eye fell on the tree that knew the secret. ‘A fine, tall tree,’ he said. ‘It’ll give me plenty of wood.’ And he chopped the tree down.

  The woodcutter sold the wood to a timber merchant. Then a man who made musical instruments came and bought the wood. He used it to make a harmonium, a pair of tabla drums and a stringed instrument, sarangi.

  Now the nawab’s birthday arrived, and there was a grand celebration in court. A dancer and some musicians were called to perform. The king’s barber, Babban Hajjam, was also invited to join the celebration.

  The musicians tuned their instruments, and the dancer began her dance. The nawab and his courtiers were soon swaying to the music and keeping beat with the rhythm. Then, suddenly, above the jingling of her ankle bells, a strange sound was heard. The courtiers exchanged puzzled glances, but there was no denying it – the musical instruments were saying something.

  The harmonium sang out first in its low voice,

  ‘Donkey’s ears, donkey’s ears!

  ‘Our dear nawab has donkey’s ears!’

  The strings of the sarangi thrummed,

  ‘Who told you?

  Who … told … you…

  My dear? Who?’

  The tablas boomed out in reply,

  ‘BABBAN HAJJAM!

  BABBAN HAJJAM!’

  The poor musicians were unable to believe their ears. They tried to play on, but once again, the instruments sang out,

  ‘Our dear nawab has donkey’s ears!’

  ‘Who told you?’

  ‘BABBAN HAJJAM! BABBAN HAJJAM!’

  The dancer almost tripped and fell in fright. A murmur ran through the court. People put their hands to their mouths trying to suppress their laughter.

  The nawab’s face turned purple with fury. ‘Stop! Stop at once!’ he cried, rising to his feet. ‘Where’s the traitor – Babban Hajjam?’

  Babban Hajjam got up at once and tried to run away. But the guards caught hold of him before he could escape and dragged him before the king.

  ‘Please, Your Majesty,’ he begged. ‘I-I didn’t t
ell a living soul.’ Then he added softly, ‘The secret was killing me so I told a tree.’

  ‘You broke your promise,’ shouted the king. He turned to his guards. ‘Throw him into the dungeon at once!’

  He turned and went to his chambers with the queen and began to pace up and down. ‘What’ll happen now?’ he cried.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said the queen. ‘You have always done your best for your people.’

  ‘But I’ll be a laughing stock now!’ wailed the nawab. ‘This Babban Hajjam needs to have his head chopped off immediately.’

  The news spread like wildfire through the city.

  ‘Donkey’s ears!’ exclaimed a man. ‘That means he’s a donkey.’

  ‘We can’t have a donkey as a ruler,’ said another.

  ‘Let’s throw him out and get another king,’ said a third.

  Soon, an angry crowd gathered and prepared to march to the palace. Then a woman spoke up. ‘So what if he has donkey’s ears?’ she said. ‘Hasn’t he had wells dug for you, and built roads and inns for travellers? Doesn’t he give freely to the poor?’

  The people stopped to think. ‘She’s right,’ a man said after some time. ‘He is a good king, even though he has donkey’s ears.’

  ‘You’re right!’

  ‘Yes, yes!’ others chorused.

  ‘Then go and tell him,’ said the woman.

  The nawab heard the crowd yelling outside his palace. ‘Your Majesty! Please come out, Your Majesty.’

  He was terrified. I’m going to lose my throne, he thought sadly.

  Then he heard them cry, ‘We love you, Your Majesty. We don’t care if you have the ears of a donkey or an elephant!’

  ‘See,’ said the queen. ‘Babban Hajjam has actually done you a favour. Now you know how much your people actually love you.’

 

‹ Prev