The Wood
cutter
Long-long
ago, there was a woodcutter. Circumstances forced him to opt for this
profession otherwise he was a very good artist. He used to bring dried wood
from the forests and sell them. In his free time he created art pieces from woods.
Those art pieces fetch him handsome money .He was living a peaceful and happy
life.
One
day while he was wandering in the forest, in search of a dry tree, he saw a
neon green flower on the bark of an Amaltas
(Cassia Fistula), the Golden shower tree.
When he went closer, the petals of the flower moved and he noticed that it was
a butterfly stuck in the gum of the tree. It was trying hard to pull itself out
of the gum but her efforts were not yielding any result. The woodcutter took
out a sharp knife and scrubbed skillfully along the bark .In no time the gum
was scrubbed off from the bark leaving the butterfly free.
The
butterfly circled around him to express its gratitude. He bowed and grinned,
“The pleasure is all mine.”
To
his astonishment it replied in a human voice. “I am a magic butterfly. I have
immense magical powers but I can’t use them for myself. Thank you for saving my
life. You can ask any favor in return.”
But
the woodcutter was a simple man. He was satisfied by his way of life so in spite
of butterfly’s persuasion he refused to accept any favor from her. So it said,
“On your way back to home you will find
a cotton field. In that field you will see seven cotton flowers emitting neon
green light. Pluck them and run towards your house without looking back.”
Suddenly,
a sparrow came flying towards the butterfly and forced it to hide in the canopy
of leaves. The woodcutter spent his whole day working absent-mindedly thinking
only about that magical butterfly who is so vulnerable.
On
his way back to home it was dusk. He was surprised that he never noticed the
cotton field outside the jungle. He was confused weather he should pluck those
flowers or not. But when he saw them, they were too fascinating to have any second
thought. He plucked the flowers and started running. But he could not resist
the temptation to look back. The moment he looked back the whole field turned
into a monster running fiercely after him and screaming loudly to get those
flowers back. The flowers also started screaming. He got so scared that he ran
for his life with flowers clenched in his fists and closed the doors and
windows of his house, after entering into it. Baffled by the screaming of flowers,
he put them in a bag and stitched its mouth as a pillow.
He
could not sleep the whole night out of the fear that the monster might be
knocking on the door. At the dawn he relaxed on the pillow of the bag and slept
instantly. That morning he saw a very strange dream.
A
beautiful maiden, Jwala was sitting
on a swing and her friend, Maya was standing beside her. They both were talking
about her Swyamvar (a contest for
finding right groom).
“Its
not tricky, it’s about intelligence.” Maya said.
“I
don’t think I can ever get a groom.” Jwala
sighed.
“Don’t
loose heart your father had arranged this Swyamvar
for you, with great expectations.” Maya comforted her.
Just
then he woke up. He was sitting on the bed thinking about the strange dream and
the unbelievable events of yesterday. His heart was doing somersaults at the
thought of the beautiful princess, Jwala.
Suddenly, the neon- green butterfly came to him. He was shocked to see it
because he had closed all the doors and windows last night.
“Surprise!
I can do miracles for others, but only
for others not for myself.” It reminded
him.
“I
don’t need any miracle. I love my plain life. The last night’s adventure of
plucking flowers was too much for me. It’s a wonder that I am still alive.” He
said.
“That
was a simple thing but you broke the rule.” It said unabashed.
“Don’t
tell me that the strange dream I saw has any thing to do with your miracles.” He
said.
“Of
course, yes. These maidens will add some colors to your plain life. Jwala is
the princess of neighboring state, Jyotinagar.
But she is quite worried about her Swyamvar
because condition of the Swyamvar
is that she will marry the man who will treat her. She is suffering from a rare
disease, self-combustion in which she
develops strange burns on her body without any fire around her.” It said.
“Her
problem is genuine. I really sympathize with her but I am not a doctor. The
question, that how can I help her stares squarely in my face.” He said.
“You
are an honest man with good heart. You can solve her problem.” She said and
disappeared.
That
day he neither went to jungle nor created any art- piece. He went to the
market. There he met the local doctor. He asked him if he knows anything to
cure self- combustion. The old doctor said, “I don’t need to know because I
don’t want to marry the pretty princess Jwala.
But I can tell you the reason. Her intestinal conversion of food into methane
by methanogens, which when released through the pores of her skin, catches fire
when triggered by her silk clothes generating static electricity.”
“Don’t
you think it’s a bit technical for laymen?” wood cutter asked.
The
old doctor took a dig at him, “You seem too desperate to marry the princess.
Just tell her to eat a lot of fiber food. Don’t wear silk. Take some nectar
from the flowers of Amaltas.”
Satisfied
with the answer, he sold his wood and show-pieces at a good price and came home
happily. That night he slept on the same pillow hoping to dream about Jwala. He thought that a little
knowledge about self combustion did not entitle a poor wood cutter to marry a
princess. Thinking on the same lines he drifted into dreams.
Jwala was roaming
in the garden with Maya
“Don’t you think
you are too optimistic about the Swyamvar? My father has been trying to fight
out this problem since I was a little girl. All the prestigious doctors
failed. You think
some miracle will happen this time.” Jwala asked.
“Yes, I talked
about you with my friend Sukarma, the fabled neon green butterfly. The legend
says that it is our good deeds that destined us to be Sukarma’s friend. It will
tell your problem to its other friends and together we will solve your problem
and find a groom for you.” Maya explained.
Jwala hugged and
thanked her for being such a nice soul.
That
morning the woodcutter woke up to a light knock on his door. That was the
village weaver. He wanted the woodcutter’s help. To repair his loom as the only
carpenter of the village was out and every one in the town was aware of his
artistic skills. It took him just one hit of the hammer on the nail and the
loom was fixed. The weaver became very happy and asked, “How can I repay you, Sohum?”
“There
is no need of any formality. It was just one hammer on the nail.” The wood
cutter asserted humbly.
“But
only you know where to hit the hammer.” The weaver persisted.
“Some
day I will weave a magnificent piece of cloth for you.” He promised.
When
he returned home he found Sukarma
waiting for him.
“Only
a few days have left for the Swyamvar.
What have you thought?” It said.
“What
can I think I am a simple wood cutter? I am neither a doctor nor some educated
and sophisticated prince. I don’t fit into the shoe of the groom of a princess. She deserve someone
best.” He said.
“May
be you don’t have so many worldly possessions but you have a heart of gold that
is always desperate to help others. You are the only one who can win this Swyamvar.” It said.
Those
words encouraged him. He had fallen in love with the princess, the instant he
saw her in his dreams. The Swyamvar could
be considered as the last straw on camels’ back. And he could not afford to
miss it.
He
again went to the village doctor and asked him questions about self- combustion with a curiosity that
only a child had. The doctor gave him a few books that were available on the
subject and wished him good luck.
He
spent the whole day reading those books and drifted into sleep the moment he
put his head on the pillow.
He saw huge bunches
of Amaltas flowers. He also saw Sukarma, carrying the nectar of those flowers.
A drop of that nectar dropped into princess Jwala’s water. The moment she drank
it, she got an instant relief from her burns. She danced with joy and her joy
filled the whole kingdom with prosperity.
Next
morning he started preparing for the Swyamvar with full force. When Sukarma
came to him, he asked about the nectar of Amaltas.
“Yes,
we collect the nectar of these flowers. It is our staple diet. Although these
flowers are seasonal but we preserve huge barrels of nectar for our food.” It
said.
“Can
you provide me some nectar?” he asked hesitating.
In
answer Sukarma flapped its wings twice and the barrel of nectar was there.
“Anything
more you want from me.” It asked to an amazed wood cutter.
“I
also wanted to present a dress to the princess but…” he sighed.
“Oh!
Don’t loose hope. Take this pillow to your weaver friend. He will make the most
beautiful sari out of it.” It suggested.
He
went to the weaver and asked him to make a sari for him. They both were
surprised to see the rolls of soft off-white and golden yarn in the (bag)
pillow. But the weaver was more surprised to know that the simple woodcutter of
his village was going for the Swyamvar of
the princess.
The
news spread like fire in the jungle. Soon every one poured into his house with
some advice or some gift because he was friend of every one in the village. His
simplicity and goodness was cherished by all.
Then
the day of Swyamvar came. He left the
village with a barrel of nectar, a very beautiful sari and lots of good wishes.
He was taken aback by the grandeur of the Swyamvar.
His hesitation grew stronger as he
thought that a princess deserves greener pastures not his little cottage. But Sukarma rubbed off his thoughts.
“Princess
Jwala deserves a loving husband not some prince who is greedy of power and
position.” It said to encourage him.
It
was a morale booster. In the Swyamvar,
every candidate made huge claims about his remedy for self combustion but Jwala and
Maya knew that they were fake as
those remedies had been applied earlier by them. The wood cutter stood out of
the rest not because of his simplicity but because of his remedy. He gifted the
Princess a sari to wear. The moment he told the princess that there is no need
to wash it as it will not catch dust or stains. Maya recognized him that he was the one whom Sukarma had sent. She pointed towards him to tell Jwala that he is
the right person. Then he said, “Mix a spoonful of nectar whenever you drink
water.”
After
the gifts session was over. The king announced that all the candidates would be
his guests for 15 days. His aim was to observe the candidates closely. He
wanted a groom with humanity and compassion. His daughter was different from
other princesses. Her disease had made her introvert and sensitive so a
different groom was required for her.
The
fifteen days flew quickly amid the celebrations of the Swyamvar. Now came the day when Jwala had to choose her groom amongst the candidates. She was
looking like a fairy in the off white sari with golden border. Her ornaments were
made from the yellow flowers of Amaltas,
instead of gold. The result of the remedy she had applied was evident form the
glow of her skin. Her beauty made even the most handsome prince skip his heart-
beat. She was holding a traditional rose garland in her hands. She came near
the candidates and made her choice. Her choice shocked all except, Maya and the
King. Yes, it was the poor wood cutter, whom she garlanded.
The
King arranged for a high profile wedding and insisted the wood cutter to live
with them. But both Jwala and he
refused his proposal and went to his village after taking the blessings from
the King. Maya also bade her friend a tearful farewell.
The villagers greeted them with a warm
welcome.
Sukarma had decorated his
house with Amaltas flowers. Jwala danced with joy as she had never
seen such a beautiful house. Sukarma smiled
as it was an omen of prosperity for the whole village.
She
bade farewell to the newly wed and grinned, ”Do not try to cure any disease by
reading books as a single misprint will leave your patient dead.”
Every
villager grew an Amaltas tree for Jwala. The village became very
prosperous. Jwala and the wood cutter
lived happily ever after.
Q-What
was the name of the wood cutter?
