A Short History of Folktales in India

Folktales are Oral stories that are passed down by the elders to the younger generation. For centuries, folktales have been a crucial medium for preserving cultural traditions and teaching the youth to understand the world around them.

Bopoluchi- The Bride’s Revenge: A Folktale from Rural Punjab

A number of young girls were drawing water at the village well and telling each other their fantasies of when and whom and how they would marry.

One of them said, My uncle will come loaded with wedding presents and dress me in a brocade, and I will get married in a palace.’

Another said, ‘My uncle is coming soon with a camel-load of sweets.’

The third said, ‘Oh, my uncle will be here in no time in a golden carriage filled with jewels.’

Bopoluchi was the prettiest of them all and she looked sad- she was an orphan and had no one in the world to arrange a marriage for her or give her a dowry. Still, not to be outdone by the others, she said, ‘And my uncle will bring me dresses, sweets, and jewels in golden plates.’

A robber, disguised as a peddler selling perfumes to the country women, happened to be sitting near the well. He heard what Bopoluchi said. He was so struck by her beauty and spirit that he decided to marry her himself. So the very next day, he disguised himself as a rich farmer and came to Bopoluchi’s hut with trays full of silken dresses, sweets, and rare jewels- things he had looted and put away.

Bopoluchi could hardly believe her eyes, for it was just as she had fantasised. The robber even said that he was her uncle, her father father’s long lost brother, and had come home to arrange his niece’s wedding with one of his sons.

Bopoluchi could hardly believe her eyes, but she believed him and was ecstatic. She packed up her few belongings and set off with the robber.

But as they went along the road, a crow in a tree croaked:

Bopoluchi, beware!
Smell the danger in the air!
It’s no uncle that relieves you
But a robber who deceives you!

Uncle,’ said Bopoluchi, ‘that crow croaks in a funny way. What does it say? ‘Nothing,’ said the robber. ‘All the crows in this country croak like that.’

A little further on, they met a peacock which, as soon as it caught sight of the pretty girl, began to scream:

Bupoluchi, beware!
Smell the danger in the air!
It’s no uncle that relieves you
But a robber that deceives you!

‘Uncle,’ said the girl, ‘that peacock screams in a funny way. What does it say?’

Oh nothing,’ said the robber. ‘All the peacock scream like that in this country.’

Then a jackal slunk across the road and began to howl:

Bopoluchi, beaware!
Smell the danger in the air!
Its no uncle that relieves you
But a robber who deceives you!

‘Uncle,’ said Bopoluchi, ‘that jackal howls in such a funny way. What does it say?’

‘Oh nothing,’ said the robber. ‘All the jackals howl like that in this country.’

So Bopoluchi travelled with him many a miles till they reached robber’s house. Once they were inside, he locked the door and told her who he was and how he wanted to marry her himself. She wept and wailed, but the pitiless robber left her with his ancient crone of a mother and went out to make arrangements for the marriage feast.

Now Bopoluchi had long, beautiful hair that reached down to her ankle, but the mother of the robber was so old she didn’t have a hair on her head.

‘Daughter,’ said the old mother, as she was getting the bridal clothes ready, ‘how did you manage to get such beautiful hair?’

‘Well, ‘replied Bopoluchi, ‘my mother had a way of making it grow by pounding my head in the big mortar for husking rice. At every stroke of the pestle, my hair grew longer and longer. It’s a method that never fails.’

‘May be it will work for me too, and make my hair grow,’ said the old woman, who had always wanted long hair and never had very much. ‘May be it will. Why don’t we try it?’ Said Bopoluchi.

So the old mother put her head in the mortar, and Bopoluchi pounded away with such force that the old woman died.

Then Bopoluchi dressed the dead body in the scarlet bridal dress, seated it on the bridal chair, drew the veil over its face, and put the spinning-wheel in front of it, so that when the robber came home he might think it was his bride. Then she put on the old woman’s clothes, picked up her few belongings, and stepped out of the house as quickly as possible.

On her way home, the robber saw her hurrying by. He had stolen a millstone to grind the grain for the feast. She was scared he would recognise her, but he didn’t. He thought she was some old woman hobbling along. So Bopoluchi reached home safely.

When the robber came home and saw the figure in the bridal dress sitting in the bridal chair spinning, he thought it was Bopoluchi. He called her to help him with the millstone, but she didn’t answer. He called again, but she still didn’t answer. After calling a few more times, he flew into rage and threw the millstone at her head. The figure toppled over, and when he came close, it wasn’t Bopoluchi but his own old mother with her head bashed in. The robber wept and cried aloud and beat his chest because he thought he had killed his own mother. Soon it became clear to him that Bopoluchi was no longer around and had run away. He went wild with rage and ran out to bring her back, wherever she was.

When she reached home, Bopoluchi knew that the robber would certainly come after her. Every night she begged her neighbours to let her sleep in a different house, leaving her own little bed in her own little house empty. But she couldn’t do this forever, as she soon came to the end of friends who would let her sleep in their houses. So she decided to brave it out and sleep in her own bed, with a sharp billhook next to her. Sure enough, in the middle of the night four men crept in, and each seizing a leg of the bed, lifted it up and walked off. The robber himself held the leg close behind her head. Bopoluchi was wide awake, but she pretended to be fast asleep until they came to a deserted spot and the thieves were off their guard. Then she whipped out the billhook and in a flash cut off the heads of the two thieves at the foot of the bed. Turning around quickly, she cut off the head of the third thief, but the robber himself ran away in a fright and scrambled up a nearby tree like a wild cat before she could get at him.

Bopoluchi cried out to him, brandishing her billhook, ‘Come down, if you are a man, and fight it out!’

But the robber would not come down. So Bopoluchi gathered all the sticks she could find, piled them around the tree, and set fire to them. The tree caught fire in no time, and the robber, stifled by the smoke, tried to jump down and broke his neck.

After that, Bopoluchi went to the robber’s house and carried off all the gold and silver, jewels, and clothes that were hidden there. She had them brought home to her village in silver and gold platters, on camels and donkeys. She was now so rich she could marry anyone she pleased.

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