Folktales of Bhutan

by Kunzang Choden

  The monkey replied, “That will be easy if you do exactly as I tell you.”

  The sinpos enthusiastically followed his advice. They immediately constructed straw huts. “The cannon balls will go right through the straw,” the monkey had told them judiciously, “and you will all be saved.”

  When the huts were ready the monkey asked all the sinpos to get into the huts and warned them not to get out on any account until he told them to do so. Once the sinpos were all in the huts, the monkey lit a torch and went from hut to hut setting them on fire, one after the other, yelling “Sinpo gola mai chop chop (Fire on the sinpo).”

  The sinpos shrieked, “Is it not time to get out yet?”

  “These cannons are very powerful indeed. We are burning.”

  “We are being roasted alive.” Soon only the ashes of the sinpos blew about in the wind and the lame monkey had got the most beautiful palace for the Bhakho king.

  The Bhakho king now had to have some clothes worthy of his position. The monkey once again began to contrive a scheme. He went to the king’s tailor and picked up all the discarded pieces of the richest fabrics he could find-there were brocades, silks, and velvets. Taking these he headed to the river and scattered them on the bushes that grew on the banks of the river. Having done this he told the Bhakho king to sit on a boulder in the middle of the river. Then he pretended to panic and rushed to the king and exclaimed, “The king of Bhakho was on his way to visit you and to personally invite you to his palace. Last night he camped on the river bank and a sudden flood washed away the entire camp and the king has lost everything. The only survivors were the king and myself.”

  “What can I do for your king?”

  “The king needs some clothes as all his clothes were washed away and only a few pieces of cloth can be found scattered along the banks of the river,” wailed the monkey, with the saddest expression on his face.

  The king looked out of his window and it was indeed true, the bushes on the river banks were littered with bits and pieces of the richest fabrics as the Bhakho king sat naked and shivering on a boulder in the middle of the river. He at once asked his servants to send some of the best clothes in his palace to the disaster-stricken king of Bhakho. In this way the Bhakho king not only had the best palace but also the best clothes.

  The king, accompanied by his ministers visited the palace and gasped at its wealth and grandeur. The palace was splendid and the wealth was enormous. He at once agreed to give his daughter as the bride. As the auspicious day of the wedding drew nearer the monkey realized with alarm that his king had never lived in a palace, eaten good food, nor had he been in the company of kings and princes, so he had to teach the Bhakho king to walk carefully on golden floors that shone and glittered. Most importantly he had to warn this hungry boy not to eat too quickly or too much.

  On the day of the wedding the monkey limped beside the king and send subtle and discreet signs to his king to remind him to behave regally. Every time the Bhakho king walked carelessly and too~ steps that were too big, the monkey tugged his sleeve. When the Bhakho king began to eat too much the monkey made a fist at the king. Everybody who came to the wedding talked of nothing else for days afterwards but the young and handsome king who was so royal and so rich.

  Thus, the Bhakho king and his queen lived happily together for many years while the lame monkey stayed on to advise them. The monkey as he grew older began to feel neglected and he often wondered whether the Bhakho king was grateful to him. He thus decided to test the king’s memory and his gratitude. So one day he lay down under a tree, put some kaphe in his mouth, which looked like the eggs of meat flies, and pretended to be dead. It was not long before one of the servants saw him and went to report to the king, “O king, the monkey is dead.”

  “Well, what are you waiting for? Drag it by its legs and throw it into the river,” said the king unconcernedly.

  At this the monkey was absolutely infuriated and threatened the king, saying, “I shall tell everybody who you really are.”

  The king was mortified and begged the monkey for his forgiveness.

  From then on the monkey was treated with respect and concern until a few years later, when again he felt neglected. He once again pretended to be dead. This time when the news of his death was reported to the king, the king not only wept openly but personally came with a katar to see the monkey and to pay homage to him. This made the monkey very happy and he had a great urge to laugh. While he was trying to suppress his laughter he choked on the kaphe which he had sprinkled in his mouth and he indeed died.

  Gangze Joy Guma

  Finally they saw an old woman sitting by herself in the middle of a forest and busily frying something in a pan.

  Dangbo..o..o Dingbo..o..o.. there was an old couple who had a son. The son was a very lazy man. He was apathetic and passive towards everything. He had not done a day’s work in his entire life except to come into the house to eat his meals and sleep and then go out and lie in the sun day after day. The aging parents worried endlessly about their only son. “How will he fend for himself after we are gone?” they asked themselves, and shook their heads sadly.

  One fine day they had a plan to get him interested in doing something for himself. They thought that perhaps every time the boy was rewarded for his deeds he would be encouraged to do more work.

  One day the father hung a basket of meat from a branch in a tree not far from the house. Soon a bevy of ravens began to caw excitedly around the tree

  The father pretended to be very curious and said, “Son, there seems to be something on the tree. Why don’t you go and have a look?”

  But the boy was not at all interested and did not go willingly. He shuffled along as if his feet weighed heavily and walking was an annoyance. When he reached the tree and saw the basket of meat hanging on a branch of the tree, he at once cut the rope and carried home the meat. The parents, of course, pretended to be very happy and grateful to him. Another time the father hid a roll of butter in the leaves and when the cat began to scratch up the leaves the boy went and found the roll of butter which the parents once again enthusiastically received. The parents kept on hiding things and praising the son when he brought home whatever he happened to find. Now the boy began to become ambitious and confident of himself. He wanted to do something great in his life.

  When the son was twenty-five years old he asked his parents to give him a pipe that measured nine du or hand spans and a sword that was as large as eighteen arm spans. The son then set out, with the pipe in his mouth and armed with the sword, and began to clean up the forests on the hills as if the energy stored in his body for all these years had to come out in some form. The father begged him to go and find something more worthwhile to do. With the pipe sticking out in front of him and the sword, which he carried upright, towering far above his head he left his parents’ home and went in search of people who would match his own strength and ambition. He walked on for many days until he saw a man who was busy breaking boulders from a hill. The pipe-smoking hero, as he was now called, just watched him. The boulder-breaking man turned to him and said “I am Bjah Phomi, the boulder-breaking hero, who are you?”

  “I am Gangze Joy Guma, I smoke this nine-du pipe.”

  They at once became friends and decided to travel together. Soon they saw a man standing in the middle of a river and stopping the river’s flow with the incredibly huge calves of his legs. The pipe-smoker and the boulder-breaker asked him who he was and he said:

  “I am Bjimtha Chu Chemi, the hero who stops the river with his calves.”

  He became the third friend and they traveled all over the place performing their preposterous exploits until one day the pipe-smoker ran out of tobacco. They then went in search of tobacco everywhere. Finally they saw an old woman sitting by herself in the middle of a forest and busily frying something in a big frying pan. First Bjah Phomi went to her and asked her if she could tell him where they could find some tobacco. Without even taking the time to look up
at the hero she just pulled him down with one hand as she continued to fry whatever she was frying and stuck him under her left knee. She was frying human nails. Then Bjimtha Chu Chemi ran up to her but she pulled him down too, with her right hand, and stuck him under her right knee. Then Gangze Joy Guma went up to the woman, turned over the frying pan, and took the largest burning log from the fire. He held her down by putting his left hand on the nape of her neck and scorched her to death with the burning log of wood. He released his friends. This demonstration of superior strength was sufficient to win the unfailing loyalty and allegiance of the other heroes. Gangze Joy Guma was the undisputed champion, the strongest and the bravest of them all.

  Nearby was the splendid house of the dead witch. They decided to live in the house. One day when they opened the innermost door of the house they found a beautiful girl whom the witch had locked up. Gangze Joy Guma married her. Now the strongest hero was served by two other heroes, and they lived together very happily and their lives continued to be one fantastic saga of adventure after adventure.

  The Phob that Provided Food

  Before the woman realized what was happening the stick came towards her and began to beat her up mercilessly.

  Dangbo thik naki wenda dingbo thik naki wenda... there stood a village in a wide river valley. The valley bottom was covered with rich fields of yellow and golden barley ready for harvest. The hillsides were all dug and prepared for the buckwheat to be sown. Soon everybody would be busy sowing buckwheat except the poor boy who lived in the rundown old shack of a house... he was simply too poor to have kept enough seeds, he had eaten every grain in the house. Seeing the plight of this poor boy all the neighbors collected a handful of seeds for him and he gratefully sowed them in his little patch of land located on the hillside near a pine forest.

  As soon as the seeds were sown a big family of sparrows came and, twittering and fluttering, they picked up every grain within a short while as the poor boy watched helplessly, paralyzed with shock. Slowly the initial shock gave way to intense anger and he began to chase the sparrows. He found the nest of the sparrows in a thorny bush, and inside there were six helpless chicks. Boiling with anger he was about to set them on fire when the sparrows begged him to spare their lives. The boy said, “What will I live on now that you have eaten my seeds? I cannot spare your lives.” The father sparrow gave him a phob and said, “With this phob you do not have to do a day’s work, whatever you want will come out of the phob.” So the boy took the phob and went home.

  It was true, the phob produced rich and delicious meals for the poor boy every day, any time he asked it. As the boy no longer went to beg for scraps of food from his rich neighbor’s house, the mailiama or matriarch of that household became very suspicious. One day she went to see how the poor boy was feeding himself. As she watched him, he took a fairly worn out phob from the pouch of his gho and put it in front of him. Then he said, “Today I would like a very rich meal. I would like to have rice and meat. Use red rice and give me singchang to go along with the food.”

  Before she could blink her eyes the food was in front of the boy. The bangchung was filled with steaming red rice. The rice grains were so even and smooth, she had never seen the like before. The dapa was filled with juicy pieces of pork, beef, tripe, and sausages, with large red and green chilies, and tender slices of radishes. The meal appeared as if it had just been cooked. The boy began to eat the food without a hint of surprise. He ate the meal with a great smacking of his lips and then held up the ornately decorated bamairuchung and poured himself a cup of the coolest and clearest singchang she had ever seen. The woman decided at once that she had to have the magical phob. She began to plan how she could possibly get it from him. She asked the poor boy to run an errand to the next valley, together with her son. As they had to cross numerous gorges and ravines to reach the next valley, they would be away for a few days. So the woman and her son went to the poor boy and in her sweetest voice, which was full of feigned concern, she told him that she would keep the phob with her for safe keeping while he was away.

  After some days the boys returned from their trip and the woman gave the phob back to the poor boy. What she had actually done was to keep the magical phob for herself and give him another phob which was very like it. The poor boy went home and asked for a good meal but nothing came out of the phob even though he repeated the request several times. The poor boy became very angry and went straight to the sparrow and demanded to know why he had been cheated. This time the sparrow gave him a kid, saying, “Every time you wash and pat the kid you will get enough money to buy food for a long time.”

  The poor boy washed and patted the kid as soon as he reached home and sure enough pieces of silver and gold coins fell from its body. Once again the woman became curious and went to find out how the poor boy was getting his money. When she saw the kid goat she wanted it. She once again succeeded in replacing the kid goat with a false one. When the false kid goat failed to produce any coins the poor boy headed straight to the sparrow and asked for something else. The sparrow said, “You did not look after the gifts very well and that’s how you lost them. Now I have nothing else but this stick, but it may be useful, so take it and never come back for I have repaid you adequately.”

  The poor boy was now crestfallen and asked, “What can I do with a stick?”

  “Place the stick on your altar revere it, and make three prostrations towards it and it will beat up anybody you ask it to.”

  The boy went home with the stick and soon the mother of the rich boy was in his house asking him what the stick could be used for. By now the poor boy had guessed who had taken his phob and his kid so he said, “If you can wait for a while I can show you what it can do.”

  The woman could barely contain her excitement as she watched the boy complete the prostrations to the stick. The boy then gave a command. Before the woman realized what was happening the stick came towards her and began to beat her up mercilessly. She ran out of the house but the stick chased her wherever she went. Stumbling and falling repeatedly, she eventually was able to stammer, “I sub... submit, I sur... rend... er, I have ta... ken the phob and the ki... kid. But I will return them to you im... im... mediately.”

  “Ya, ya, in that case, stop stick!” ordered the boy.

  The woman ran to her house and brought back the stolen goods and with folded hands begged the poor boy never to set the stick after her again. Now the poor boy had all the three gifts of the sparrow and he lived in happiness and prosperity without having to do a day’s worth of work.

  Part 2

  Legends

  Demons and Demonesses

  It is said that Buddha Orukpa Kinlay, one of Tibet’s foremost saints and an enlightened Master of Tantrism, came to Bhutan and traveled widely, successfully subjugating various demons and demonesses in Bhutan. We are told that the saint did not go beyond Pele La, which is the pass in the chain of mountains that divides the country into east and the west. The demons and the demonesses on the eastern side of the Pele La thrive and prosper to this day. How this came about is told in the following story. The lama happened to be traveling in the Pele La region one day. When he arrived at the pass he could not decide whether he should go further east from there or not. Just then an old man carrying a heavy load came along. Orukpa Kinlay asked this old man what villages he would find down in the valley. The old man replied, “First Rukhubji, then Chendibji, and then Tangsbji.”

  At this the saint, in his usual facetious way, said, “I don’t think I will go to the valley of the three bjis” and returned the way he had come.

  Thus the demons and demonesses on the eastern side of Pele La escaped Orukpa Kinlay’s subjugation. Famous among the demonesses is the dermo or demoness of Nyala Lungma.

  Garba Lung Gi Khorlo and the Demoness of Nyala

  Garba Lung Gi Khorlo sped down to the Mangdi river.

  We are told that the Tongsa penlops or the governors of Tongsa were more or less able to maintain effecti
ve control over Tongsa and the surrounding regions even while the other governors were engaged in continuous power struggles among themselves for supremacy. Thus, the post of Tongsa penlop was not only prestigious but also very important. Young aspirants from all over the country yearned to be in the service the Tongsa penlop. These courtiers and attendants were said to be the brightest and the best. The elders tell us that a certain Tongsa penlop enjoyed the services of two truly remarkable men. They were his personal attendants or garbas. Carba Lung gi Khorlo, which translates as “attendant with wheels of wind”, was one of them. He was said to have been an exceptionally fast walker and, therefore, an excellent courier. He could walk so fast that he almost flew. Penjor was the other garba, and he was an extraordinarily fast tailor. He was the penlop’ s tailor and could hand-sew a gho in one day, an incredible feat in those days when hand-sowing a gho usually took more than two whole days. The penlop was very proud of these two men and they were always expected to do a lot.

  Carba Lung gi Khorlo had to carry messages every day and he had never let down his master. It is said that he could travel from Tongsa to Wangdiphodrang and back in a day. This journey is about 129 kilometers through rugged craggy terrain and would usually take an average person at least four days.

  Those were the days of factions, conspiracies, and plots. A single strong man had yet to emerge and the regional lords were constantly feuding, intriguing and scheming against each other. It was of the utmost importance that allies kept contact with each other and expediting information across the rugged terrain was crucial but at the same time a very big challenge. Carba Lung gi Khorlo’s services to the penlop were invaluable. But Carba Lung gi Khorlo’s real moment of victory came not so much from the distance he covered or the speed with which he completed his feat but when he was standing in the presence of his master and receiving the usual impassive “Tubay” or “alright”.