Folktales of Bhutan

by Kunzang Choden

  It is commonly believed that during unusually heavy snow the abominable snowman is driven down to lower altitudes. It is at such times that encounters with this otherwise elusive creature are experienced.

  Mirgola

  With the first light of day the men came out of their shacks in silence and sheepishly studied the blood-stained swords.

  Mirgola are said to be human-like creatures that live in the depths of the remote forests in the Himalayas. They are not to be confused with the migoi, which are believed to be much larger than human beings and have a mystical aura of fear and wonderment associated with them. The migoi is known to the world as the elusive yeti or the abominable snowman. The mirgola on the other hand are less well known although there are many local stories about them. The existence of both the creatures is somewhat shrouded in mystery, and a sense of mythology and legend is evoked when reference is made to them. Yet many people in Bhutan are absolutely sure that these creatures do exist and that there is no question about that.

  Today the forest of Somshid stands tall and thick, far away from human habitation. Nobody goes to this almost impregnable forest save the occasional herders who graze their cattle along the edges of the forest during part of the summer months. Somshid is located to the east of the Tang valley, and travelers to Kurtoi who cross the 4,100 meter (15,500 foot) Rodong La mountain pass near to it.

  Many years ago the silence of the dark deep forest echoed with the sound of axes chopping the larch trees. A group of men had come to split wood to make shingles for a new roof for Ugen Choling naktsang. The men had been at their jobs for many days now. They worked hard during the day and they were so tired that in spite of the cold they slept soundly through the night. Now it happened that one morning when the men got up to start their work they were surprised to see that all the piles of shingles that they had made on the previous day had been shifted to different locations. They wondered what had happened and they grew apprehensive about the incident. Although none of them admitted it they were frightened by the strange happening. They wondered if this was a sign of the displeasure of the deities of the locality, whose wrath they might have incurred by cutting down the trees. If this was the case then they knew that they could be in for a lot of trouble. To their increasing anxiety the same thing was repeated over several nights until they finally decided to stay up for the night and keep watch.

  As usual the men ate their dinner around the camp fire and went to bed in the shacks made of shingles. But this night they were only pretending to sleep. Soon the camp fire was flickering away as no more wood was fed to the fire and eventually there was just a warm glow where the fire had once been.

  There was partial moonlight and the men strained their eyes to look into the dark night. Full of curiosity and anticipation they waited to see what would come. It was not long before some of the men saw some shadows and movements. They alerted the others, who now carefully followed the gaze of the ones who had seen something. There seemed to be figures darting noiselessly back and forth. It was too dark to see anything clearly.

  Every now and then the moon emerged from behind a large cloud and they could see that these figures actually looked like children. But they could also have been some kind of a monkey. They had long arms and shaggy bodies and stood upright. They had hair falling from their foreheads like a fringe. Their eyes shone through the darkness. Soon they busied themselves taking all the shingles from the piles that were already made and making new piles just as the men had done during the day. One creature held one end of the shingle while another held the other end and they moved the shingles with the dexterity of human beings. They worked quickly and steadily until all the piles had been removed and remade and then they disappeared quietly into the forest.

  The men had watched the whole thing in silent fascination barely able to refrain from going closer to look at them. These creatures were surely not human beings but what were they? The men were greatly intrigued and for the next few days they talked of nothing else but the nocturnal visitors who devotedly came and performed their tasks night after night. The men soon noticed that these creatures actually engaged in mimicry, imitating the gestures and other behavior of the men.

  The men were getting quite used to these strange creatures when one of them suggested that they could have some fun by playing pranks on the creatures. The others agreed. So the next day the men made wooden swords and staged a mock battle with each other. The whole day they repeated the game, knowing full well that the creatures were watching and learning. They pretended to stab, cut, and slash at each other. Then they exchanged the wooden swords for real swords and retired for the night.

  As on the previous nights the creatures emerged from their hiding places in the forest as, soon as the camp fires flickered and dwindled. This night they did not go to the piles of shingles as they had done on the previous nights. They walked to where the swords were piled up and looked at them cautiously, circling the pile on the ground. They tilted their heads at curious angles to examine the strange things but none of them dared to touch any of the lethal tools that glinted in the moonlight. Then all caution was suddenly cast aside when one of the creatures picked up a sword and brandished it in the air as the men had done. One by one the others picked up the swords and held them above their heads, not quite sure of themselves. They held them close to their faces to study the alien tools. They began to swing them a little and point them at each other. Then suddenly they began to attack each other exactly as the men had done. But of course this time the swords were real. The men were horrified, for their innocent prank had gone too far. They ran out of their shacks shouting and waving their arms wildly. The creatures threw down the swords and scuttled away in the darkness and disappeared into the forest, never to be seen again.

  With the first light of day the men came out of their shacks in silence and sheepishly studied the blood-stained swords lying around where they had hurriedly been dropped; there were smears of blood still fresh on the shingles. But there was not a single creature to be found, dead, alive, or wounded. They had disappeared, taking with them the secret of their existence. Many days later when the men returned to the village and related the incident to the villagers, the elders nodded confidently and said, “Mirgola, surely mirgola.”

  The Girl who was Swallowed by a Python

  She chose a fairly small log and sat down on it and immediately took the basket straps off her shoulders.

  There is some debate among the elders as to where exactly this story actually took place. Some storytellers talk of the girl as being a Kurtoizam, a girl from Kurtoi while others talk of her as a Khengzam, a girl from Kheng. One thing, however, is clear and that is that the incident which is about to be related took place in a sub-tropical part of Bhutan where bemchi or pythons are known to inhabit the thick jungles. As most Kurtoipas today claim that there are no pythons in Kurtoi it is most likely that this incident took place somewhere in Kheng.

  Now, people are known to venture into the jungles in search of food, both in times of plenty and in times of scarcity. In times of plenty they go to look for variety and in times of scarcity they are driven into the wild by hunger. There are mushrooms, ferns, orchids, tubers, and fruits to be had from the jungles. So it was not unusual for the petite eleven-year-old girl who lived in a village on the fringes of an enormous expanse of sub-tropical forest to carry her basket on her back, stick her sickle into her belt, and head for the jungle.

  The vegetation was luxuriant and the undergrowth thick but the girl pushed into the jungle with the confidence of one who had done this many times before. She could see the tracks of the cattle and she followed them. As she walked on she continually had to push away the branches that got in her way and unhook the numerous thorns that caught on her clothes. She did not mind these trivial obstacles for already she could smell the mushrooms and see the tender ferns. She collected whatever she could see. She was even lucky enough to find some wonderful orchids which she could pick fr
om a low-hanging branch.

  Now her basket was filling up and she began to feel its weight. She needed to rest for a while. She decided that after a good rest she would head for home. So she was very pleased when she soon come into a little clearing in the forest where she could rest. She searched around for a suitable place to sit. There were several logs lying around. She chose a fairly small log and sat down on it and immediately took the basket straps off her shoulders. Suddenly there was a violent movement and the log on which she was sitting on turned around. The last thing she saw before she was swallowed by the bemchi was her basket falling onto the ground and the ferns, mushrooms, and orchids being scattered around.

  The next moment she felt that she was being lifted off the ground and being squeezed into a very thin and tight tunnel. It was like being jammed into a bag that was far too small. Complete darkness descended upon her and she could neither see nor move. This realization was followed by pain all over her body. Her shoulders and her pelvic bones felt as if they were being crushed. After a while she felt numb all over. The only sensation she felt was the pain of the sickle in her belt pressing against her.

  She tried to reach for the sickle. But it was impossible as her arms were locked into position so tightly that no movement was possible. Then she realized that the bag in which she was trapped was being dragged along. The next instant one arm was released by some movement of the bag. She could actually move her arm towards the sickle in her belt and just about touch the tip of the handle with the tips of her fingers. Try as she might, she could not move her arm any further-it seemed to have been once again locked in this new position. She was a strong-willed girl and she knew that she had to make the effort to live. With total concentration, and gathering up all her fast-ebbing strength, she pushed her arm towards the handle, further and further until finally she managed to grasp it and hold onto it. Then she pulled it out from her belt ever so painstakingly, for any movement was restrained and difficult. There was only one thought in her otherwise dulled mind, “I have to slit open this bag and get out.” She dug the sickle tip into the side of the bag that was on the ground and held onto it as firmly as possible. As the bag dragged along she suddenly saw light again and her body was free of the pressing and crushing sensations that she had experienced just a little while ago. A great sense of relief overcame her but the next moment complete darkness descended upon her again and she was unconscious.

  In the meantime her parents noticed her absence and began to get anxious. She was taking much longer than usual. So the mother called her two sons, the girl’s older brothers, and asked them to go in search of her, for it was not unusual for children to wander too far into the jungle and lose their way.

  The two boys had no difficulty in following her tracks. They quickly found the cluster of ferns from which she had collected some and the freshly disturbed soil from where she picked the mushrooms. These clues soon led them to the little clearing. Suddenly both boys stood still in their tracks, their bodies taut with alarm and caution, for within an arm’s length was a gigantic python that seemed to be resting in the fork of a huge tree. Hardly daring to breathe they watched the creature. But something was strange, for the creature did not move and its head was drooping down towards the ground and its great body was as limp and flaccid as a rope. They took a few cautious steps to take a closer look when suddenly the body of their sister sprawled face down on the ground came into view. “Ya lama, kesa kud na (the worst has happened)” was all the older brother could say as he rushed towards his sister. The other brother stood transfixed, gaping and gulping, until the older brother called to say that their sister was still alive. When he reached her she had been turned over. She was covered with a slimy substance and her right hand still grasped the sickle so tightly that her knuckles showed white.

  Immensely relieved, the boys saw that their sister was only unconscious and stiff all over as if in rigor mortis. But they could not understand what had happened until one of the brothers saw that the underside of the python was slit open along its entire length. They concluded rightly, as confirmed by their sister later, that she had driven her sickle into the body of the python and that it had slithered along and slit itself as she held the sickle in the ground.

  The boys carried their sister home. She was bathed again and again in water with the leaves of the medicinal wormwood plant. But where the slimy substance had come in contact with the skin, blisters broke out which festered and became sores. The girl finally recovered after much care and rimdoe, or powerful health-restoring rites and rituals. The sores on her face, hands, arms, and legs remained on her for her entire life as a constant reminder of her terrible encounter in the forest.

  The Man who was Saved by a Dragon

  As he lifted his arms to shield his eyes, he just got a glimpse of the great greenish white serpentine creature.

  Many Bhutanese traders and pilgrims have, since time immemorial, braved the perilous journey across the mountains every year into Tibet. Traders would load their mules and yaks with rice, chilis, dey shog, the famous Bhutanese handmade paper, and various other goods for barter and journey across the mountains for many days until they reached the Tibetan settlements of their choice. They went in groups of at least three to four men. They carried enough rations and other stocks and once they reached the Tibetan settlements it was with confidence that they would go directly to their nyda to rest and to have their animals fed. With the same assurance they could trade their goods in the markets and proudly load their mules and return home.

  But the pilgrims were another sort of traveler. Many of them had only a vague knowledge of Tibet and even less about the perils of the long journey there. Many pilgrims are known to have perished during the journeys and yet faith and devotion drew them to the choe gi densa, the centers of religion. Armed with his kesang khurshing, two strong V-shaped cane sticks that act like a light basket for holding provisions, and his T-shaped stick, which served as both a walking stick and a stool to rest his load on, a pilgrim from Tang valley in the Bumthang district headed for the 5,316 meter (17,442 foot) high Monla Karchung pass one spring day many years ago.

  This pilgrim was a disgruntled farmer who felt that he had to seek a tsawa lama, a root teacher and follow the path of dharma. When he announced his intention, his family members were shocked but none would try to stand in the way of someone who had decided to seek religion. His brothers ungrudgingly and quietly assumed the tasks that he had abandoned to prepare for the long journey to Tibet.

  So one spring morning the family tearfully bade farewell to this departing member of their family. They stood near the bridge and watched him as he confidently walked on. The women members waved their scarves and sang, “Alo”, the melancholic farewell melody, while the men shouted, “Aoo Aoo” After a while they could only see the heavy kesang khurshing, within which he had packed all he needed. All of them wished that he had some traveling companion. But this potential pilgrim had always retorted quoting the famous Tibetan saying, “where can there be salvation without suffering?”

  As the days passed he came closer to the famous Monla Karchung. The majestic white giant stood before his eyes and it seemed to beckon him towards it. This young and healthy farmer, who was used to hard work and carrying heavy loads, did not suffer having to climb the steadily ascending mountain path as the altitude increased rapidly. The white snow glistened in the bright sun and the glare hurt his eyes. Every thing looked white and icicles hung from the rocks. The dwarf azalea shrubs which had been quite abundant lower down now disappeared and everywhere he looked there was snow that sparkled and glittered in the sun. It was so quiet and peaceful that he was naturally reminded of the purpose of his journey He took out his prayer beads, which an old uncle who was a gomchen had given him, and began to chant the sacred syllables of Om Mani Padme Hung. As he recited he tried to visualize the image of Chenrezi as his uncle the gomchen had taught him to do. Whenever he tried to visualize Chenrezi his mind wandered and he saw h
is parents and his brothers and sisters and he began to wonder what they were doing. At once he would correct himself and try to concentrate. This went on for a while.

  Now he was close to the labza, the pass itself the saddle of the Monla Karchung, where the track crossing into Tibet is located. He decided that he would rest for a while at the labza and eat the lazi, the specially prepared food to be eaten at the labza which his mother had so lovingly packed. He was only a few paces away from the pile of rocks that marked the labza when there was suddenly a tremendous thunderous cracking, crushing, and roaring noise. Everything around seemed to rumble and tremble uncontrollably. Before the pilgrim realized what was happening he felt as if a mat was being pulled away from under his feet. Then he felt himself falling, falling into a deep hole. Remarkably he landed on something soft. It was pitch dark and he could see nothing. He could not even begin to guess where he was. He sat there petrified that something even more terrible would happen to him. In his mind he could hear a voice saying, “pray, visualize Chenrezi”, but his untrained mind wandered and intense fear gripped him. He began to tremble and shake so violently that he had to hold onto something lest he fall off the object he was sitting on. Frantically he groped around with his hands until he caught hold of something shaggy that felt like the mane of a horse. But of course that was not possible, so he assumed it must have been some dried moss. He held on to it and chanted the syllables Om Mani Padme Hung loudly while his mind raced widely and he could hardly follow the trend of his own thoughts.