Bengal Fairy Tales/Kanchanmala, the Golden Wreath
IV
KANCHANMALA
THE GOLDEN WREATH
IN the days of yore, when India was governed by Hindu chiefs, there were in each kingdom four families occupying the highest rank—the king's, the prime minister's, the chief merchant's and the head police officer, or prefect's. The story we are about to tell concerns the son of the chief merchant in a particular kingdom. He was named Ruplal,[1] and he was generally beloved and admired. His old father, anticipating death, thought of settling his son in life, and therefore was on the look out for a wife for him. When the idea of marriage was haunting the young man's thoughts, he one night dreamed of a girl of the colour of gold and with hair as black as a dark cloud. The dream so occupied his mind on the following morning that he could think of nothing else. While out for a walk, and brooding over it in a pensive mood, the malini who supplied flowers to his mother and sisters met him, and struck by his apparently sad humour, asked him the reason; and on his describing his dream, she said that a woman like the one whom he had seen in it was to be found in her house, and that she could show her to him if he came there. Eagerly he followed her, and she brought before him her niece, closely veiled. She showed him the girl's hair, and her complexion, by exposing her hands and feet. As to her face the malini said that it must remain veiled as long as Ruplal would not pledge himself to marry her.
Ruplal, returning home, described to his father and his friends the beauty he had seen in his dream, and said that he would never marry any one except the facsimile of his vision. The father, though afraid that a girl of that description could not be found, sent messengers to see if they were able to find one. They came back unsuccessful, and the merchant was in despair, when the malini informed him of her niece, whose charms, she said, were no less attractive than those of her whom his son had dreamed of.
Ruplal's dream was not a fiction. There was actually in a country far off a princess in every particular corresponding to the image in his mind. Her name was Kanchanmala, and at the very moment he dreamed of her she had also seen him in a vision. The next morning she appeared before her father, and informed him that a young man named Ruplal, who had appeared before her in a dream, was according to the decrees of fate, her husband; and that he must be found out, not only to make her happy, but even to preserve her life. The king and his ministers were astounded to hear her, and messengers were despatched in every direction to find out who and where Ruplal was. They crossed seas, rivers and mountains, till at last they reached the foot of a banyan tree. Here they rested; when another body of men approached them, and the latter, being asked whence and with what object they came, said, "For months and months we have been travelling, and are fatigued to death. Oh, what a dream of our master's son that was! There may be in the world no such Kanchanmala as he dreamed of. Can you, brothers, throw light on the matter?" Those addressed exclaimed in surprise, "What do you say? Are you looking for Kanchanmala? Our princess bears that name, and we have been out for months seeking for a solution of the mystery. One morning she said to her father, our king, that she had dreamt of one Ruplal, and that she should die if he were not brought to her. Hence we are trying to discover his whereabouts." Both the parties, understanding that their mission was at an end, embraced one another and exchanged pictures of Ruplal and Kanchan for the satisfaction of their respective masters.
Ruplal's picture coming into the hands of the king and his daughter, the latter recognized it as the true likeness of him she loved. Men were accordingly at once sent to the merchant, and all the preliminaries being settled, a day was fixed for the marriage of the lovers.
The malini, whose object was to get Ruplal into her clutches by having his hand joined to that of her niece, one day called on him and expressed surprise that he was going to be married to another, and not her niece. To which he replied that he had found the girl of his dream, to whom he would be bound for life. The malini, however, was not a woman to be thus got rid of. She asked Ruplal if he had seen his Kanchanmala's picture, and being told that he had not seen it himself, but heard of it from every one in the house, she was greatly delighted to think that there were still opportunities for carrying out her purposes.
The day came to a close, and at night Ruplal took the picture from his father, retired into his room and lay down to sleep, keeping it on his bosom. The malini, somehow or other, coming to know of it, crept into the room while he was immersed in deep sleep, and stole away the picture. Taking it home, she ordered her niece to spoil it so that the person represented in it might appear blind and crooked. The niece was too good a girl to consent, and so the malini at length did the mischief herself, and returning to Ruplal's room she placed the picture in the same position from which she had stolen it, and went away.
Ruplal, on awakening, uncovered the picture, and holding it out to look at it, was greatly surprised and disappointed to find in it the representation of an ugly creature. Tears started to his eyes, and he cast wistful looks all around in search of some one to whom to communicate his thought. The malini was at hand, and officiously advised him to abide by his and his father's promise to bring the ugly girl home as his bride, and at the same time to keep at as great a distance from her as possible, for she was a witch, and even a look at her face was dangerous. He was also told to blindfold himself at the time of marriage, or at any other time that she might be within the range of his vision. Poor Ruplal was deceived by the wicked woman, and followed her advice, both at the time of his marriage and after he had brought his bride home. He placed a thick covering over his eyes, which he did not remove while in the bridal chamber. He left it the next morning, and never afterwards sought the company of his wife, who pined away neglected. The old merchant died, and it was attributed by Ruplal, at the suggestion of the malini, to his wife's evil influence as a witch. A hut was built for the poor girl, and there she lived, the wreck of her former self.
Ruplal after his father's death had to attend to all his business, within and without, and so he could no longer keep the shade over his eyes. One day when it was removed, the wily malini set her niece before him, and he was so taken with her beauty that he at once asked for her hand. His suit was granted and the marriage fixed. But the event was not permitted by heaven to take place. Whatever arrangements the malini made in anticipation ended in failure. The priests whom she consulted died, the ladies whom she invited lost their husbands and sons, and the articles bought were consumed of themselves. The malini's garden became a wilderness, and she was in want for her daily bread. On the other hand Kanchanmala, reconciled to her lot, passed her days in works of devotion and in great peace.
Ruplal's business failed, and he was compelled to think of a voyage to foreign countries, whence he might bring such goods as would find a profitable sale in his own country. Preparations were duly made, and the day of starting was announced. The night before, Kanchan managed to enter his bedroom to bid him farewell, but he drove her out. The morning dawned, and he got into one of the boats ready for the voyage. The sails were unfurled, and the rowers plied at the oars, but the boats did not move. The men asked Rup if he had displeased the gods, or left undone some duty enjoined by them; and when he said that there was no fear of that, one of the helmsmen asked him if he had taken leave of his wife; and on his saying "No," advised him to return home and do so. He agreed to do as advised, and with some of the men went again blindfolded to Kanchanmala and said, "Unfortunate girl! I am about to start on a voyage, and I ask you to part with me in good grace. On my return home I will present you with a garland of pearls, and gold bracelets."
"You are my garland of pearls, my invaluable gem," Kanchan replied. "Take me with you as your servant."
"Oh, my men! Let us be off," cried Ruplal, disregarding her.
But the boatmen refused, saying, "We can't be off until you get leave from your wife."
"O wife! consent to my going, and I will fetch vermilion for your head," cried Ruplal.
But Kanchan again replied, "You are my precious vermilion. Take me with you to serve you."
"What is to be done?" shouted Ruplal in anger to his men. "Are you sure that the boats won't move because I have not taken leave of her?"
"Yes, we are sure," they answered. "You, sir, had better take her with you."
No further delay was possible. Kanchan's request was granted, but she was placed in an old shattered boat. Rup's boats made a speedy voyage, while the one occupied by her lagged considerably behind. Her husband, however, could not go beyond her sight.
The malini, in the meantime, burning with jealousy, took her niece with her, and ran along the bank of the river by which Rup's boats passed and shrieked at every port that of the two passengers in them, one was a ghost and the other a Petni,[2] and that they should be avoided. This was done chiefly to prevent Rup from taking any necessaries from the ports; but he had no want of anything, and therefore they were passed by. The malini had then recourse to a charm, whereby she made the boats dash against a Chur,[3] and Rup and the crew sank under water. Kanchan, being a Sati, was not only safe herself, but saved her husband and his men from a watery grave. The former, however, was under an hallucination; he attributed the good office to the malini and her niece, though they remained invisible.
The boats sailed on until a town was reached where a Puja[4] was going on, the object of worship being a goddess fond of human flesh and blood. Rup was taken out of his boat, selected as the sacrifice, and carried to the place by the side of a tank where the offering was to be made. His head was cut off and rolled on the ground. Kanchan, who had run after him, reached the cruel spot, and sitting by the pool of blood, took the head upon her lap and rent the air with her lamentations. Her cries reached the ears of Shiva and Durga, driving through the air in their chariot, and they in pity descended and restored Rup to life. But the wicked malini and her niece were still in his mind, as his good angels.
The boats again set out on their voyage, and reached a country where a terrible famine raged. For seven months Rup and his men were hardly able to get their food. At last Kanchan, obtaining the favour of Annapurna,[5] managed to get the best dishes for her husband and his people, and the fool Rup, instead of thanking her, expressed his gratitude to his unseen friends the malini and her niece. There is a proverb, "Talk of the Devil, and he is sure to be there," and it was true in this case. The malini, with her niece, got into Kanchan's boat, and cast her into the water to be drowned. Rup was then told by the malini to take off the covering from his eyes, and this was the first time he had done so since he had left home. He beheld a lotus leaf floating, and taking it up, he saw on it the true likeness of Kanchan, as he had seen her in his dream. The malini at this tore her hair, and her niece fell in a swoon.
Kanchan had seven sisters, as dancing girls at Indra's court, and by the falling of the bells that tinkled at their ankles they knew that their sister on earth was in danger. They at once made their chariot ready, and driving downwards to where Kanchan was struggling with the waves, they rescued her, and placing her on the chariot, drove it through the air. Rup at that time saw his folly, and reproaching himself for having allowed himself to be so duped by the malini, stretched out his hands in the hope of catching Kanchan's garment; and failing to do so, he fell insensible.
How long the fit lasted we cannot say. But when Ruplal came to, it seemed to him as if a hundred years had passed over his head. His hair was grey, his skin shrivelled and his body shivering with infirmity. In this state he returned home and consulted holy men and astrologers as to the religious ceremonies to be gone through and the sacrifices to be offered for the recovery of his health. They told him that the cause of his disease was a look of displeasure cast on him by one of the beauties of heaven, and that the only chance of his becoming his former self was to find some one who loved him so much that, fasting for a whole day, she would imprint kiss after kiss on the whole of his diseased body. They said also that the person doing so would immediately afterwards be transformed into a palmyra tree. Now the question was, who would do so much for him, at so great a sacrifice. Ruplal went to his mother and said, "Mother, I am your son, and who can love me more than you? Take off my disease and when you will be turned into a palmyra tree, I will place sheets of gold round its foot."
But Rup's mother replied, "Alas, son! it is your duty, now in my old age, to help me to make pilgrimages. Instead of that you want me to be a palmyra tree. This is what I never expected of you."
Rup then went to the malini, and she drove him out, disgusted with his loathsome appearance. But her niece called him back and promised to free him from his disease. She fasted the whole of the next day, and kissed the whole of his body, bringing upon herself the doom foretold by the wise men. And Rup became once more a young man, with his former personal charms. Fortune smiled on him, and his business prospered, making him the master of immense treasure. But the hand that was showering the blessings was unseen. It was that of Kanchan, now in heaven.
After some time, Rup was again called upon to start on a voyage. He did so to his advantage, and returned home a millionaire. One day, while he was moodily passing by the palmyra tree into which the malini's niece had been changed, a drop of water fell on his head. He looked up and caught a piece of cloth hanging down. It was a part of Kanchan's sari. She was seated on the crown of the tree, and thence addressed her husband thus, "My husband, I am your slave, and I thank you for your kind looks. You have made me happy, but I have stood in the way of the malini's niece. My sisters thought of coming here to-night to restore her to her former self. Now that you have touched me they will not come."
Ruplal, completely staggered at this revelation, sat down on the ground quite dazed, with his hands to his head. Kanchan, however, assured him that further grief was unnecessary, and that she would from that time remain at his side, on condition that he would let her have her own way at night, and that he would not question her as to her movements, however strange they might appear. She then promised that in seven days she would give him back the malini's niece. After that they went to Rup's house. There they spent several days very happily, without any new occurrence. But soon afterwards Kanchan one night left her husband while he slept, and went off unknown to him. Rup, waking up, missed her and waited for her, feigning sleep. When the dawn was about to break she returned, and threw herself on the bed. The next night she again went out, while her husband pretended to be asleep. She returned at midnight and tried to awaken him, but he neither moved nor gave any sign of being awake; and so, three times putting the dust of his feet on her head, she again quitted the room in tears. Rup ran out of the room by another door, and finding his wife in the chariot of heaven that he had once seen, he got on to it from behind, unperceived. The chariot reached heaven, and Kanchan went into Indra's hall and commenced dancing, Rup concealing himself behind a pillar and observing what passed. One of those who were playing on instruments could not keep time with the dance, and the gods and the dancers were very much displeased, and Rup, who was an adept in instrumental music, could not resist the temptation of moving to the spot, snatching away the instrument from the awkward musician, and playing on it himself. The scene was then turned into one of voluptuous music: tum tum tum, went the dhole (drum) whang whang whang went the sound of the tanpura (a musical instrument supplied with chords), and pat pat pat went on the dancers. The fascination that surrounded Rup was observed by his wife, and she could not help casting looks of love and approval at him. Indra marked this, and also the fact of his being a human being, and guessing that he was Kanchan's lover, hinted to her that the secret was no longer hers. At this she blushed in confusion, and falling prostrate before the god, admitted the truth, and prayed that she might from that day be excused from attending his court. Her prayer was granted, and not only that, but Indra made a gift of the chariot which had so long been at her service, offering at the same time any other boon she might ask. Encouraged thus, she asked the fan in his hand, with the object of bringing back the malini's niece to life, for fanning with it was known to possess the power of reanimating the dead. Her prayer was granted, with the caution that the fan should not be moved in the wrong way.
With grateful acknowledgments for the favours received, Kanchan left the celestial regions, and in the twinkling of an eye reached the terrestrial. She then went to the palmyra tree into which the malini's niece had been changed. But the tree was not there; for the wicked malini had by the assistance of the evil one changed it into a snake, doomed to pass its life in the adjoining tank; the loving service the girl had rendered Rup having stirred up the witch's venom against her. The shock was so great for Kanchan and Rup that they fell into a swoon. This did not escape the eyes of Indra in heaven; and alighting where they were, he ordered his Oirabat[6] to drink up the water of the tank. The elephant did his bidding, and a snake with a hooded head was seen at the bottom. The god touched it with one of his toes and it vanished, leaving in its place the malini's niece, in full splendour of beauty. The reptile, however, was alive, and walking on its breast to where the witch was, bit her on the heel and dragged her before Indra, who at a glance turned her into a frog. Justice done, he left the scene, blessing his favourite Kanchan and her husband with long life, and ordering that the malini in her changed body should ever remain in the custody of the snake, which would continually torment her with its fangs, but never swallow her up and thus put an end to her sufferings. The god advised Kanchan to reward her who had suffered so much for Rup's sake by taking her as the co-sharer of his bed. The advice was gratefully followed; and the merchant passed his days happily with his two wives, Kanchan of course being his sole guide in matters temporal and spiritual.