Folktales of Bhutan

by Kunzang Choden

  The magical pan flew quickly across valleys and over the mountains and soon they were in the house of the boy. Having eaten all the fruits the mother could no longer pretend to be sick.

  No longer burdened with an ailing mother the boy resumed his work in the fields while the girl stayed home to help the mother with the housework.

  The mother was always a little hostile and very secretive, and the girl grew uneasy and suspicious. One day she saw the mother secretly preparing a bundle of food. She watched and followed her as she began to head towards the forest. The mother went into a cave and soon she heard her talking to someone. She tiptoed to the entrance of the cave and peered in cautiously. She was appalled on seeing that the mother was feeding an ash-colored man with bloodshot eyes and hair that stood on end like the quills on an agitated porcupine. “This is a ghost,” thought the girl, shivering all over. As she strained her ears to listen to their conversation, she heard the ghost say, “Now we have tried to kill the boy and we have failed. The surest way to get rid of him is to poison him.”

  “I know my son likes to drink ara. I will give him some poisoned ara this evening,” offered the foolish mother.

  The girl could hardly wait for the boy to come home that evening. Having told him all that she had seen and heard she added, “And they plan to poison you this evening.” The boy was shocked and bitterly hurt when he realized that his own mother had contrived with the ghost to kill him. But he was no fool and he knew that he had to defend himself. So he began to plan his counterattack. He found a zang and filled it with butter and let it boil on the stove, then he fitted it with a wick, as in a butter lamp, and waited for his mother. Soon the mother came in carrying a palang, the cylindrical bamboo container for spirituous liquors. “Here son, you must be tired. Have some delicious ara I distilled especially for you,” said the mother as she poured out a cup of ara and held it out to her son.

  The boy took the ara and pretended to drink it but actually poured it down his chin into his gho. Then he lit the wick in the butter for he knew that his mother had told the ghost to come into the house when she lit the butter lamp. The ghost, on seeing the light, rushed into the house, “Is he dead already? Now I can eat your meat and drink your hot blood to celebrate your son’s death!”

  The poor foolish woman stood there stunned, only realizing now what she had done while the boy jumped onto the ghost and threw him into the boiling butter. The ghost wailed in pain as his body scalded and charred in the hot butter.

  The remains of the ghost were buried in a deep hole that was dug at the cross roads, for it is believed that the power of the people who pass over the ghost will further suppress and subdue its powers. A black chorten was built over it.

  As for the mother, who was now filled with remorse and shame, she cried and begged for mercy. The boy was truly a good man and he forgave her but he made her seek a tsawa lama and spend the rest of her days in prayer and meditation.

  The boy then married the girl who had escaped with him from the demons and lived happily together for many years.

  Bum Dolay Penzom and Bo Serba Tung Tung

  As time progressed their tsangrno had grown into bold and passionate love songs.

  Dangbo..o..o Dingbo..o..o.. somewhere among the valleys amidst the rugged mountains of Bhutan, there lived a poor farmer with her only son, Bo Serba Tung Tung, who used to herd the cattle every day on the mountainsides. These mountainsides were common grazing grounds and many other herders grazed their cattle there too. Bum Dolay Penzom, who was the only daughter of the richest family in the village, also brought her cattle to the pastures. As the cattle grazed the young herders would spend their time playing all sorts of games, telling stories or singing songs together. In the course of time Bo Serba Tung Tung fell in love with Bum Dolay Penzom. In the beginning their courtship had been confined to merely teasing or singing tsangmo to each other across the valleys. As time progressed their tsangmo had grown into Bold and passionate love songs. Now, the otherwise quiet and shy girl always made sure that she was not very far from where Bo Serba Tung Tung was grazing his cattle. They were in love with each other and they were happy to spend many days together. They kept their love secret because they knew that their relationship would not be approved by their families, for Bo Serba Tung Tung was a poor widow’s son while Bum Dolay Penzom’s family was rich and commanded respect throughout the village.

  Soon Bum Dolay Penzom was expecting Bo Serba Tung Tung’s child. She tried to conceal her pregnancy by wearing two thick kiras together carelessly and tied loosely around her waist with a big kaira. But as she grew heavy with the child her methods of concealment failed and one day the mother found out. Everyone was outraged. “What shame you have brought upon this family,” they all accused Bum Dolay Penzom.

  Bum Dolay Penzom’s brother was a cruel and arrogant man and he felt that it was his duty to avenge this humiliation. He began to devise and plot the murder of his sister’s lover. One day he said to his sister, “Today I shall herd the cows, you take a rest.” Bum Dolay Penzom had a premonition that something terrible would be done to her lover so she alerted him to keep away from her brother. Bum Dolay Penzom’s brother had resolved to kill Bo Serba Tung Tung at all costs.

  Bo Serba Tung Tung knew he was in danger but he did not know the extent of the danger. One morning when he arrived at the pasture with his cattle, Bum Dolay Penzom’s brother who had been lying in wait for him suddenly attacked him and stabbed him several times with his dagger.

  When the brother came home in the evening with a smug grin on his face, Bum Dolay Penzom knew that he had done something terrible. She rushed to her lover’s house and found him lying in bed, mortally wounded. Henceforth she went secretly to nurse him every day. When he was a little better she gave him a black scarf and a white scarf and said, “When you feel better, hang the white scarf out of your window so that I will know that you are feeling better. Hang out the black scarf if you feel worse. Although I cannot be with you I can at least know how you are.”

  Every day Bum Dolay Penzom looked anxiously at his window. She was always relieved to see the white scarf at his window for then she knew that he was recovering well. One woeful day the black scarf hung ominously from the window and without a thought she ran to his house. She was overcome with grief when she reached the house and found out that he had died; in spirit Bum Dolay Penzom too died with her lover. From then on she went around dazed, not able to differentiate between day and night.

  As the funeral preparations were being made she too prepared to go to his funeral. While others fried tsog, and distilled ara, she filled a bamairuchung or a mithan horn with mustard oil and ground a bag of chili powder. On the day of the funeral Bum Dolay Penzom stood aside from the crowds, gazing fixedly at the pyre. When the smoke and flames from the funeral pyre rose high into the sky, she knew it was time for her to go too. Taking handfuls of the chili powder she scattered them in the air. The fine powder drifted in the wind and got into the people’s eyes and noses. All the mourners and the choepas alike began to sneeze, wheeze, and cry. While the people nursed their smarting eyes and noses she doused herself in the mustard oil and jumped onto the pyre. The blazing flames quickly engulfed her Body and she too disappeared from this world. When the people could finally see they realized what had happened. But it was too late.

  As the village slowly recovered from the shock of the unfortunate happenings two banana saplings grew on the spot of the cremation site. Bum Dolay Penzom’s brother saw that and, realizing that his sister and her lover were reBorn in the form of these saplings, he promptly uprooted them. The lovers then took on a series of rebirths and deaths. Their time together was always troubled and short. Their karma was still not cleansed enough, as we say in Bhutanese. They were the victims of a force stronger than themselves, they had to travel the entire path set by destiny. They were reBorn as a male and a female cat but a dog killed the male. Then as a rooster and a hen, but the hen was eaten by a fox. Then they were reB
orn as a bull and a cow. The young bull was sold by the owner to someone far away and they never met again. It was only after several more births and deaths that they were finally reBorn again in the human form. As fate would have it, the lovers were Born far away from each other without any knowledge of each other’s existence.

  Bum Dolay Penzom was Born as the daughter of a rich family while Bo Serba Tung Tung was Born as the son of a poor potter. Bo Serba Tung Tung became a potter and went about the business of turning pots and selling his products from door to door. In the meantime Bum Dolay Penzom lived a leisurely life befitting the daughter of a rich family but deep inside she felt a sadness she could not understand. One day, as usual, the potter filled a basket with his pots and started on his rounds. During the course of his day he happened to stop at the rich house of Bum Dolay Penzom to try and sell his remaining pots. On seeing the potter, Bum Dolay Penzom came out of the house to buy some pots. As she was selecting the pots and negotiating the price, she suddenly had a vivid recollection of her lover and the various lives they had lived together. She was so overcome with excitement that she swooned and fell to the ground.

  Bum Dolay Penzom’s mother was alarmed on seeing what had happened and believing the potter to be responsible, she berated and chased him away saying, “You, dirty beggar. Look what you have done to my daughter. Now go away quickly before I set the dogs after you.” The poor potter was completely astonished, but he quickly gathered up his pots and went his way not even daring to cast a backward glance.

  After a while Bum Dolay Penzom regained consciousness and she immediately asked for the potter. Her mother explained that the potter had been scolded and chased away because he had made her unconscious. To everybody’s amazement, without saying a word to anyone, Bum Dolay Penzom at once began to follow him.

  When she finally caught up with him she told him of their past lives and asked, “Don’t you remember anything? I used to be Bum Dolay Penzom and you were Bo Serba Tung Tung.”

  At this revelation Bo Serba Tung Tung was so overwhelmed with shock and gratitude that he too fainted. At last, they were free. Their fate had freed them to live together, and their love had prevailed.

  Ashi Dunglidolma

  Ashi Dunglidolma waited outside the gate.

  Dangbo..o..o Dingbo..o..o.. there was a king who had three daughters. They were called ashi Yulidolma, or princess Turquoise Tara, ashi Sarlidolma or princess Golden Tara, and ashi Dunglidolma or princess Copper Tara. Each ashi was as beautiful as the others. The fame of their beauty and the wealth of their father’s kingdom had reached far and wide. There were many suitors who wished to marry them. The ashis were well aware of all their suitors but each of them secretly wanted to marry only sai Jangchu Dorji, a prince of the northern kingdom, for he was said to be not only the wealthiest but also the handsomest and the kindest and the gentlest of all the suitors.

  Sai or prince Jangchu Dorji also wanted to marry one of the princesses but he wanted to find out which of them was the kindest and the humblest. He therefore disguised himself as a beggar and stood at the gates of the princesses’ palace, begging to be employed in the palace. When the king saw him he took pity on the poor beggar and made him the cowherd. Now, it was the custom that every day the ashis took turns to help to herd and milk the cows. So on the first day it was ashi Yulidolma who came to do the milking. It had rained during the night and it was muddy everywhere, so ashi Yulidolma told the cowherd to kneel down in the mud so that she could sit on his back while she milked the cows. In this way she did not dirty herself. Sai Jangchu Dorji did as he was told. When all the cows had been milked ashi Yulidolma made a symbolic offering of the milk to the gods and deities then to each of the kings of the four directions. Finally she secretly made an offering to sai Jangchu Dorji, sprinkling some milk in the air, saying, “Choy choyshi Sai Jangchu Dorji shayla stuchu shi (I make this offering, may it be pleasing to prince Jangchu Dorji)”. The milk that she sprinkled fell into the cowherd’s mouth. Sai Jangchu Dorji professed surprise and said, “Ashi, the milk you offered to sai Jangchu Dorji has come into my mouth. What should I do with it? Shall I swallow it or spit it out?”

  “Spit it out,” was the scornful answer.

  “The rich milk has made me thirsty, ashi Yulidolma. Please let me drink a cupful,” begged sai Jangchu Dorji.

  “I will not waste milk on a dirty beggar,” was the reply.

  Soon it was lunch time, and ashi Yulidolma sat on a high rock and ate her rice and meats and let Jangchu Dorji sit far away from her and eat his poor meal of kuli and chili paste.

  As the midday sun got hot ashi Yulidolma fell asleep in the shade of a tree. Sai Jangchu Dorji watched her. Although she was unkind and rude he had to be sure whether they were destined to be together. So he took a turquoise ring off his finger and tossed it into the air singing, “Ashi Yulidolma, Yuyi zokey thee, tse gang thendi yodna ashi cha la zu shu, tse gang thendi med na boko na la log sho.(Princess Turquoise Tara, this turquoise ring I offer. If we are to share a common fate, may it fall in your hands. If not then let it come to me).” The turquoise ring fell into his own lap.

  Ashi woke up and chided him, “What was that you were mumbling about?”

  “Even a beggar has songs for his joys and songs for his sorrows,” came the quick reply.

  As dusk fell and it was time to go home, sai Jangchu Dorji gathered the cattle and turned them homewards. Ashi Yulidolma made him carry her across the river because she did not want to get wet. So he carried the ashi on his back. With his left hand he held the ashi’s legs behind his back and with his other hand he held the stick with which he drove the cattle home. The ashi was repulsed at having to touch a beggar but she had to hang onto him tightly.

  On the second day it was the second princess Sarlidolma’s turn to milk the cows and she was just like her older sister. Sai Jangchu Dorji knew that his fate was not tied with either ashi Yulidolma or ashi Sarlidolma.

  On the third day it was the youngest princess ashi Dunglidolma’s turn. As on the other days the place was wet and muddy and sai Jangchu Dorji offered to kneel down so that she could sit on him and milk the cows. But she was shocked and refused saying, “No, no, I will not do such a thing.”

  When she made the offerings and sai Jangchu Dorji’s share fell into his mouth he asked, “Ashi Dunglidolma, what should I do? Your offering to sai Jangchu Dorji has fallen into my mouth. Shall I swallow it or spit it out.”

  “If it has fallen into your mouth it must be for a good reason. Swallow it by all means.”

  Then when he asked for a cup of milk to drink she said, “Drink all you can. There is enough milk for you to drink.”

  During lunch time she insisted that they sit together and share their meals. After their lunch, like her sisters ashi Dunglidolma also fell asleep in the shade of a tree. Sai Jangchu Dorji sat by her side and watched her. Then he took off his copper ring and as on the previous days, tossed it in the air, singing, “Ashi Dunglidolma, dungi zokey thee, tse gang thendi yodna ashi cha la zu shu, tse gang thendi med na boko na la log sho (Princess Copper Tara, this copper ring I offer. If we are to share a common fate, may it fall into your hand. If not let it return to me).” When the ashi woke up she was surprised to find a ring around her finger. Sai Jangchu Dorji of course denied any knowledge of it when she questioned him. “Perhaps it’s a good omen,” she thought to herself and decided to keep it on.

  Then she asked him what he was singing and he replied, saying, “Even a beggar has his songs for his joys and songs for his sorrows,” but this was all he would say.

  When they returned home in the evening sai Jangchu Dorji offered to carry her across the river but she said she preferred to hold his hand and cross the river. By the end of the third day sai Jangchu Dorji knew which princess he wanted to marry. But he had to be absolutely sure that ashi Dunglidolma was truly the right wife for him, so he had to test her further.

  The king now decided that it was time for his daughters to get married so he in
vited all the suitors to come and seek their brides. He decreed that each of the suitors would have to perform a heroic feat before he could qualify to marry any of his daughters. The suitors came from the four directions and they performed wondrous and heroic feats. On the appointed day the suitors presented themselves bearing the testimonies of their feats. One of them had dragged a dragon out of the skies, its body still steaming with moisture while spitting out flames of fire. Another had tamed a chuzin or a sea serpent and now it slithered and crawled behind its master. The third one led the leader of the sinpos on a leash of thick leather after he had subdued the sinpos in the region.

  The day before the ceremony at which each of the three princesses had to present a scarf to the prince of her choice, sai Jangchu Dorji took a new-born puppy and put it into ashi Dunglidolma’s bed. Then he woke her up and said, “You have just given birth to this freak. Now if you don’t choose me for your husband I shall tell everybody about this.”

  The ashi had no choice but to agree. The next day as the first rays of the sun touched the palace rooftops the ceremony took place. Everybody was very pleased as ashi Yulidolma confidently walked up to the Eastern King and presented her scarf to him. Ashi Sarlidoma presented her scarf to the Western King. Poor ashi Dunglidolma held down her head and demurely handed her scarf to the poor and dirty man standing in the crowd. Everybody was shocked and repulsed! The king was so angry and humiliated that he immediately banished them from his kingdom.