The Old Woman and the Thieves
An old woman lived alone. She was well-off and her house was filled with beautiful furniture and lovely things; she dressed well and enjoyed a luxurious lifestyle. One evening, she kneaded some dough and made three rotis for herself. But then she realised that she was no longer hungry, so she covered them and set the dish aside.
She decided to do her hair, hoping she would feel hungry after that. She had long white hair, and she was particular about combing it well every night. She made sections of her hair, combing through each section dozens of times. As a result, her hair flowed down all over her head and no part of her face or neck could be seen. After some time, she grew tired and stopped combing, thinking about her dinner.
Unnoticed by her, three thieves arrived just then, planning to burgle her house. They crept quietly and crouched against the outside wall of the house, under an open window. One of them stood up a little to peek through the window to see what was happening inside. By chance, he happened to look into the room where the old woman was doing her hair.
He saw a figure with white hair all over its head and he heard the figure say, “I’ll eat two today and one tomorrow.”
The thief was shaken. They had scoped the house so carefully. An old woman lived alone in it, and they had crept up to the house so stealthily. Still, the old woman had managed to find out that there were three of them. Moreover, she was planning to eat them!
He sat back down, and in rapid gestures and whispers, told the other two thieves that it would be best for them to leave and look for some other house to loot. “I don’t know how, but she knows about us, and is planning to eat two of us today and the third one tomorrow!” he said.
The thief who thought himself the bravest of them all said with contempt, “Stop making excuses and just say that you’re scared of a lonely old woman. Let me take a look.” Then he stood up and peeped through the window.
He saw a strange figure with no face and silver hair falling all over its head. The figure moved and said, “I’ll eat one today and two tomorrow. Yes, that would be better.”
The brave thief fell on top of the others. When his heartbeat calmed a little, he said, “We have made a mistake. The one who lives here is not an old woman but a rantas. She only shows her true form at night, when there is no one around to see her. Being a rantas, it is no surprise that she knows we are here. I think we had better vamoose from here before she gobbles us up.” Suiting the action to the word, they ran away as fast as they could.
Meanwhile, the old woman who was used to talking to herself because she lived alone, said again, “Yes, I’ll eat one today and two tomorrow.” Then she tied her hair in a bun and reached for the roti she had decided to eat then, leaving the other two for the next day.
The Daughter-in-Law Who Sulked
There was a household in which the daughter-in-law would often go into a huff. If something displeased her, or if someone said something that she did not like, she would turn away and sulk. She had to be cajoled for a long time before she would rejoin any family activities. In the beginning, it may have been oversensitivity that made her take offence so easily, but over time it became a habit. Also, as time passed, her sulks lasted much longer, testing her family’s patience to the limit. When they asked her to get over this habit, she ignored them or took offence yet again.
One winter morning, she went into a sulk and stepped out of the house. It had snowed heavily overnight so instead of going outside the house, she stayed in the veranda, sitting with her bowed head held tight in her arms. She kept her eyes closed. Her family members looked at each other to see who would go first to coax her into a good mood and convince her to come back inside the house, for it was deathly cold.
When nobody seemed to offer to go first, her father-in-law said, “Let’s see how long she keeps it up and stays out in the cold if no one pays any attention to her.” The others voiced their enthusiastic agreement. They had all thought about just letting her sulk, but no one had had the courage to say it out loud until now. And so, they decided that there would be no cajoling today; she would come in when she herself felt like it.
When quite a bit of time had passed, the daughter-in-law began to wonder why no one had come to persuade her to go back inside. Suddenly, she heard footsteps and felt that someone was shaking her gently, wordlessly. “Ah! Someone has come,” she thought with satisfaction.
Inside the house, her father-in-law also heard footsteps in the veranda. Then he heard his daughter-in-law say, “No, I don’t want to eat. I don’t want to come. I will not enter the house. Go away. I’ve already told you I won’t come. I want to stay here.” He wondered who had gone out to cajole her when they had all decided against doing so.
He stepped up to the window and was shocked to see that a large brown bear was in the veranda shaking his daughter-in-law’s shoulder while she sat with her back to the animal, head down, talking away. The bear had seen her sitting so still that he wanted to check if she was alive before he ate her up. And now that she was speaking, he was confused.
The father-in-law’s screams drew the entire household to the window. The minute they saw the bear, they grabbed sticks and started shouting and beating the sticks to scare it away. The bear was alarmed by the number of people around him and the noise they were making and ran away.
As for the daughter-in-law, she found her legs were shaking so much that she couldn’t stand up. When someone finally helped her up and into the house, she had already made up her mind that she would never again go into a sulk.
Excerpted with permission from ‘The Old Woman and the Thieves’ and ‘The Daughter-in-Law Who Sulked’ in Folktales from Kashmir, Vinita Zutshi, illustrated by Charbak Dipta, Red Panda/Westland.
