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Folktales from India Penguin Premium Classic Edition
Folklore pervades childhoods, families and communities and is the language of the illiterate. Even in large, modern cities, folklore-proverbs, lullabies, folk medicine, folktales-is only a suburb away, a cousin or a grandmother away. Wherever people live, folklore grows. India is a country of many languages, religions, sects and cultures. It is a land of many myths and countless stories. Translated from twenty-two Indian languages, these one hundred and ten tales cover most of the regions of India and represent favorite's narratives from the subcontinent. A.K. Ramanujan's outstanding selection is an indispensable guide to the richness and vitality of India's ageless oral folklore tradition.
457 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 1992
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About the author
A.K. Ramanujan
49 books100 followersRamanujan was an Indian poet, scholar and author, a philologist, folklorist, translator, poet and playwright. His academic research ranged across five languages: Tamil, Kannada, Telugu, Sanskrit, and English. He published works on both classical and modern variants of these literature and also argued strongly for giving local, non-standard dialects their due.
He was called "Indo-Anglian harbingers of literary modernism". Several disciplinary areas are enriched with A.K.Ramanujan`s aesthetic and theoretical contributions. His free thinking context and his individuality which he attributes to Euro-American culture gives rise to the "universal testaments of law". A classical kind of context-sensitive theme is also found in his cultural essays especially in his writings about Indian folklore and classic poetry. He worked for non-Sanskritic Indian literature and his popular work in sociolinguistics and literature unfolds his creativity in the most striking way. English Poetry most popularly knows him for his advance guard approach.
He was called "Indo-Anglian harbingers of literary modernism". Several disciplinary areas are enriched with A.K.Ramanujan`s aesthetic and theoretical contributions. His free thinking context and his individuality which he attributes to Euro-American culture gives rise to the "universal testaments of law". A classical kind of context-sensitive theme is also found in his cultural essays especially in his writings about Indian folklore and classic poetry. He worked for non-Sanskritic Indian literature and his popular work in sociolinguistics and literature unfolds his creativity in the most striking way. English Poetry most popularly knows him for his advance guard approach.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 49 reviews
May 12, 2020
Before you start reading the stories, be sure to check out the Notes at the end. The author has mentioned the source of each and every story which will enrich your reading experience.
Synopsis:
By selecting and compiling folk tales from all over India out of its twenty-two distinct languages, Ramanujan gives us one-hundred-and-eight (wow, coincidence?) folktales from India. Because to understand the culture of India, one needs to study not only it's written classics but it's oral traditions as well.
Review:
It was such a joy to read these stories in small doses. While a few languages had one too many tales, some others had only one to their credit. After all, it depends on the tales that survived. These tales are as varied as they are entertaining, with some stories overlapping two or three languages. As Ramanujan says,
The compiler mentions in the Introduction about how consciously he chose the tales which reflected many aspects of our culture. There were male-centred tales; women-centred tales; tales (usually two contrasted ones) about families; tales about fate, death, gods, demons, ghosts, and such; humorous tales or tales about a jester or a clever person; tales about animals; and stories about stories. So much effort has been put in by Ramanujan that the subtitle should have read Selected and Edited after Due Analysis.
Some tales like Shall I Show You My Real Face? from Tamil made me wonder if we got shapeshifters and twisted romances from there, while The Lord of Death from Punjabi reminded me of the movie Species (in a totally unpleasant way).
Some stories even had hints of incest, like The Princess Whose Father Wanted To Marry Her from Tulu. Then there's also Mother Marries Son from Marathi. Another interesting thing worth mentioning here is the way intimacy was described in The Kurumba in the Parrot's Body from Kota. Even though ancient India gave us Kama Sutra, I have rarely read any graphic scenes in old Indian stories.
The longest is Raja Vikram and the Princess of China from Hindi. The same Vikram from Vikram aur (and) Vetaal (Vampire), though it's a different tale. But something that bothered me was how in most of the women-centred tales, the names of the central characters weren't mentioned. Like Tenali Rama or Gopal Bhar or Birbal as court jesters had names, but when a story of a clever female was there, she was without an identity. Makes me wonder if it was an attempt to keep women in obscurity. Then there was also multiple women with one man but none of the stories did a vice-versa. And even if they did, unlike four women living happily with their husband, the stories were always of one woman with a husband and a lover. Of course, it involves cheating. Ramanujan may not have been bothered by this, but as a woman reading these stories they bothered me a lot.
Some stories are grisly as hell. Some others are as staid as can be, while some are really quirky and naughty. Some instances are so gross with grotesque situations. While some are so wise, there are others that make no sense. And some are downright absurd. But I did get to know some things, like how Tenali Rama came to be a vikata kavi (it's a palindrome! vi-ka-ta-ka-vi, speller in Hindi too), a jester, that is.
My favourite among all of them is A Tall Tale in Urdu which is a ridiculous one and delivers exactly what the title says. It starts at one sphere and ends at an entirely different one. Another favourite is The Village Rogue, the City Rogue, and the King of Rogues from Oriya which ends with a droll moral:
Last, of all, there's also A Plague Story from Bengali which is along the lines of how the Kingdom of our country prays to save itself from bubonic plague that is sweeping across Asia. A deal is struck with the personified Plague that it will spare everyone except one. But, ninety-nine more die. The reason for the remaining deaths is revealed to be fear.
P.S. It has some pretty illustrations accompanying the stories. And there are a handful of printing errors. Also, there is an error in the blurb, it seems two short passages introducing Tenali Rama and Akbar & Birbal have been counted as stories. The author mentions in his notes at the end about how there are so many yet undiscovered and uncatalogued tales out there. I borrowed a copy from the Delhi Public Library.
The twenty-two languages from which stories have been taken are:
Angami Naga, Assamese, Bengali, Didayi, Gondi, Gujerati, Hindi/Malwi/Kumaoni, Kannada, Kashmiri, Konkani, Kota, Malayalam, Marathi, Oriya, Punjabi, Rajasthani, Santali, Sindhi, Tamil, Telugu, Tulu, and Urdu.
Originally posted on:
Shaina's Musings
Synopsis:
By selecting and compiling folk tales from all over India out of its twenty-two distinct languages, Ramanujan gives us one-hundred-and-eight (wow, coincidence?) folktales from India. Because to understand the culture of India, one needs to study not only it's written classics but it's oral traditions as well.
Review:
It was such a joy to read these stories in small doses. While a few languages had one too many tales, some others had only one to their credit. After all, it depends on the tales that survived. These tales are as varied as they are entertaining, with some stories overlapping two or three languages. As Ramanujan says,
... in a folktale that goes on changing from teller to teller, the structure of the tale may remain constant while all the cultural details change.
The compiler mentions in the Introduction about how consciously he chose the tales which reflected many aspects of our culture. There were male-centred tales; women-centred tales; tales (usually two contrasted ones) about families; tales about fate, death, gods, demons, ghosts, and such; humorous tales or tales about a jester or a clever person; tales about animals; and stories about stories. So much effort has been put in by Ramanujan that the subtitle should have read Selected and Edited after Due Analysis.
... stories are metaphors in search of a context, waiting to be told and given new relevance.
Some tales like Shall I Show You My Real Face? from Tamil made me wonder if we got shapeshifters and twisted romances from there, while The Lord of Death from Punjabi reminded me of the movie Species (in a totally unpleasant way).
Some stories even had hints of incest, like The Princess Whose Father Wanted To Marry Her from Tulu. Then there's also Mother Marries Son from Marathi. Another interesting thing worth mentioning here is the way intimacy was described in The Kurumba in the Parrot's Body from Kota. Even though ancient India gave us Kama Sutra, I have rarely read any graphic scenes in old Indian stories.
The longest is Raja Vikram and the Princess of China from Hindi. The same Vikram from Vikram aur (and) Vetaal (Vampire), though it's a different tale. But something that bothered me was how in most of the women-centred tales, the names of the central characters weren't mentioned. Like Tenali Rama or Gopal Bhar or Birbal as court jesters had names, but when a story of a clever female was there, she was without an identity. Makes me wonder if it was an attempt to keep women in obscurity. Then there was also multiple women with one man but none of the stories did a vice-versa. And even if they did, unlike four women living happily with their husband, the stories were always of one woman with a husband and a lover. Of course, it involves cheating. Ramanujan may not have been bothered by this, but as a woman reading these stories they bothered me a lot.
Some stories are grisly as hell. Some others are as staid as can be, while some are really quirky and naughty. Some instances are so gross with grotesque situations. While some are so wise, there are others that make no sense. And some are downright absurd. But I did get to know some things, like how Tenali Rama came to be a vikata kavi (it's a palindrome! vi-ka-ta-ka-vi, speller in Hindi too), a jester, that is.
My favourite among all of them is A Tall Tale in Urdu which is a ridiculous one and delivers exactly what the title says. It starts at one sphere and ends at an entirely different one. Another favourite is The Village Rogue, the City Rogue, and the King of Rogues from Oriya which ends with a droll moral:
Mere cheating is no good. It adds color to life only when it's done with wit.
Last, of all, there's also A Plague Story from Bengali which is along the lines of how the Kingdom of our country prays to save itself from bubonic plague that is sweeping across Asia. A deal is struck with the personified Plague that it will spare everyone except one. But, ninety-nine more die. The reason for the remaining deaths is revealed to be fear.
P.S. It has some pretty illustrations accompanying the stories. And there are a handful of printing errors. Also, there is an error in the blurb, it seems two short passages introducing Tenali Rama and Akbar & Birbal have been counted as stories. The author mentions in his notes at the end about how there are so many yet undiscovered and uncatalogued tales out there. I borrowed a copy from the Delhi Public Library.
The twenty-two languages from which stories have been taken are:
Angami Naga, Assamese, Bengali, Didayi, Gondi, Gujerati, Hindi/Malwi/Kumaoni, Kannada, Kashmiri, Konkani, Kota, Malayalam, Marathi, Oriya, Punjabi, Rajasthani, Santali, Sindhi, Tamil, Telugu, Tulu, and Urdu.
Originally posted on:
Shaina's Musings
Read
May 24, 2012A perfect book to snuggle with on a rainy day. Each page unfolds new story. There are stories of grit, gumption, valor, myth, love, mirth, glutton, victory, mythology...Sigh!! List goes on.
Must have. You can read them yo kids, to elderly to youth also to your pets. Loved it.
Must have. You can read them yo kids, to elderly to youth also to your pets. Loved it.
July 12, 2019
There is a lot of fun to be had here. In general, truly good people get good things, truly bad people don't. One story, perhaps my favorite, is entitled "Nonviolence." In this story, a wicked snake bites everyone passing by. A holy man ask the snake not bite, the snake agrees. When people learn they can bully and beat up on the snake, they do so. The holy man sees the bruises on the snake and says, "I asked you not to bite anyone. But I didn't ask you not to hiss." Sometimes, we all gotta hiss (free speech!) but no, biting and killing isn't gonna get us anywhere.
August 13, 2024
Another great Ramanujan book. An entertaining collection of folktales from many languages and places in India. Some were familiar, most were new. Most were funny, especially of people with power who are foolish.
Folk tales are in this inbetween place where they both subvert and reify traditional social organization/hierarchy. So the women are free spoken and have adventures and are skilled and clever, but all women want to get married and they utilize their skills to help their husband. There isn’t really a woman figure who is entirely outside the social norm, unmarried and wild.
Folk tales are in this inbetween place where they both subvert and reify traditional social organization/hierarchy. So the women are free spoken and have adventures and are skilled and clever, but all women want to get married and they utilize their skills to help their husband. There isn’t really a woman figure who is entirely outside the social norm, unmarried and wild.
July 16, 2014
Titled with care, since there is a lot of regional differences. The Muslim vs. Hindu are the most pronounced and easy to see. All of them, of course, have the possibility of polygamous unions. Very common for a heroine's problem to be not her jealous sisters, nor her annoyed mother-in-law or stepmother-in-law, but her precursors as queen.
Tales of sillies, tales of cunning scoundrels, animals tales, pure fairy tales. . . often with fillips unrecognizable from European tales. A "Love Like Salt" opening where the father wants to know whether his daughters deem their prosperity owing to his fate or theirs leads not to three balls but to a Feather of Finist the Falcon type tale. Kind and unkind girls where the girls are half-sisters -- one's mother got all the inheritance, and the other widow has to spin, and her daughter loses the cotton to the wind. A rajah who loses his arms and legs and still gets chosen by a princess of China as her bridegroom. And a lot more.
Tales of sillies, tales of cunning scoundrels, animals tales, pure fairy tales. . . often with fillips unrecognizable from European tales. A "Love Like Salt" opening where the father wants to know whether his daughters deem their prosperity owing to his fate or theirs leads not to three balls but to a Feather of Finist the Falcon type tale. Kind and unkind girls where the girls are half-sisters -- one's mother got all the inheritance, and the other widow has to spin, and her daughter loses the cotton to the wind. A rajah who loses his arms and legs and still gets chosen by a princess of China as her bridegroom. And a lot more.
November 19, 2021
I enjoyed this diverse collection of tales very much. I found the distinction between men's tales and women's tales to be particularly interesting; it was not something I'd seen in similar collections. I was a bit surprised by the author's use of profanity, particularly related to the body and bodily functions. It did not detract from my overall enjoyment of this collection. The simple ink illustrations and designs added to my enjoyment of the collection.
May 25, 2020
This was a fun read. According to the author's forward, it's more of an anthropological study in folklore, but don't let that stop you from enjoying the stories, which make up the bulk of the book with any sort of commentary saved for the very end of the book. It's pretty amazing how universal some stories are, there are a few in here that could have been lifted directly from Grimm's fairy tales.
April 23, 2011
The best book available in market about exceptionally beautiful tales from India. I recommend everyone to read this book. The introduction by Ramanujan is a short essay why folk tales are important and it talks about the tale of a tale. More than 150 stories collected in a single book.
October 28, 2014
read a story in beehive. it had a reference to this book. and i issued it from my college library. there are lots and lots of good stories in this book. this is a kind of book that you could never finish because every time you reread it, it feels fresh and first hand.
July 27, 2018
A large and good collection of witty tales, mostly told to teach people the way of life and its illusory nature when emotions and ignorance take a toll. The tales cover all aspects of life wit, bravery, mindfulness, trickery and fantasy. The mixture is really amazing and gives us a clear picture of what the children of yesteryear generations grew up with, such lustrous stories of Gods, demons, wise men, stupid men and brave women. Touches on all virtues and vices of human nature. Some stories turn you into a king, some into a poor man and some into a wise man and even some into a woman.
One thought-provoking and inspiring tale that I personally love is the tale titled
'Outwitting Fate'
A young Brahman in search of knowledge had heard about a great sage and philosopher who lives in the heart of a dense forest, far from the madness of civilization. So he walked for days through the thorns of the jungle and the menace of the wild beast till he reached the lonely cottage on the bank of the river where the great sage lived. the old sage welcomed the young seeker, accepted him as his disciple, and gave him a place to stay in his hut. The young man served the master and his wife in various ways did some of the household chores and learned all he could from the old master.
Now the old man was still youthful, and in his old age, his wife became pregnant for the first time. Just when she was eight months into her pregnancy, the sage had a desire to go and visit the source of the holy river by which he lived. as he could not take her with him, he entrusted her to the care of his disciple and another sage's wife.
The old sage's wife was ready to give birth and, at the appropriate time went into labour. The women friend stayed with her inside the cottage and the disciple waited outside, anxiously praying that she should safely give birth to a healthy baby.
Now, Hindus believe that Brahma, the Creator, is present at the birth of every child and writes on the newborn infant's forehead his or her fortunes. He is supposed to arrive just at the moment of birth, just when the child leaves the mother's womb to enter the world. He is, of course, invisible to ordinary mortals. But the young disciple's eyes were not exactly those of any ordinary mortal. His master had given him all kinds of knowledge and various powers. So he was startled to see a person entering most unceremoniously, the cottage where his mater's wife was giving birth.
Stop right there! said the disciple angrily. The great God shuddered, for no one so far had ever seen him or stopped him like this in his eternal round of duties. He was astonished and quite bewildered when he heard the following words of rebuke: 'You old brahman, what do you think your doing, entering my master's cottage without so much as a by-your-leave? Right in front of me! my teacher's wife is in labour. You can't go in there'.
Bhrama hastily explained to the young man who he was and what he was about to do. The baby had already begun to leave the womb and he had very little time to waste. When the young man heard who he was, he tied his upper cloth around his waist as a mark of respect before an elder and a god, prostrated himself before Brahma, and begged his pardon.
Brahma was in a hurry. He wanted to go in at once, but the young man would not let him go until he has told him what he meant to write on the forehead of the newborn child. 'Son', said the Brahma, 'even I do not know what my stylus will write on the forehead of the newborn. As the child comes into the world, I place the stylus on its head and it writes the fate of the child according to it's good and bad acts in its previous life. You shouldn't stop me here. I have to go in at once.'
'Then' said the young man, 'on your way out, you must tell me what was written on the forehead of my guru's child.'
'All right', said the Brahma in a hurry and went in. In a moment he returned, and the young man asked the god what his stylus had written.
'Son, I'll tell you what it wrote', said Brahma. 'But if you tell anyone about it, your head will split into thousand pieces. The child is a boy. He has a hard life before him. A buffalo and a sack of rice will be his share in life; he'll have to live on it. What can be done?'
'What! O, father of the Gods, this child is the son of a great sage. Is this his fate?' cried the disciple.
'What do I have to do with it? Such are the fruits of a former life. Wha's sown in the past must be reaped in the present. Now, remember what I said: if you reveal this secret to anyone, your head will explode into a thousand pieces'.
Then the Brahma vanished, leaving the young disciple bewildered by what he had heard and pained by the thought of what a hard life awaited his guru's newborn son. But he could tell no one about it.
His guru returned from his pilgrimage and was delighted to see his wife and child doing well. And the young disciple forgot his sorrow in the learned company of the old sage.
Three more years passed his deep study, and again the old sage decided to go on a pilgrimage to the sacred source of the Tungabhadra River. Again his wife was pregnant, and he had to leave her in the care of his disciple and his friend's wife. This time, too, Brahma came at the moment of birth. The young man was waiting for him. Brahma was again stopped at the door and promised to tell the young man the fate of the child. On his way out, the god told the young man. 'The child is a girl this time. My stylus has written that she has to earn her living as a prostitute, sell her body every night. Remember what I told you last time: if you reveal this secret to anyone, your head will explode into a thousand pieces. Don't forget'.
When Brahma left the young man was still in shock. The daughter of the holiest man was fated to live the life of a prostitute! After turning over and over in his mind for days, he consoled himself with the thought that fate alone governs human lives.
The old sage returned from his pilgrimage, and the young disciple spent two more years with him. At the end of these years, when the boy was five and the girl was two, the disciple himself decided to go on a pilgrimage to the Himalayas. The thought of the growing children and the miserable fate that was waiting for them filled him with pain and even anger, though he consoled himself again and again with the thoughts of fate.
With the guru's permission, he left the forest hu and his guru's family and journey towards the Himalayas. He visited many towns and learned men, lived with and learned from many sages. He wandered for twenty years, examining the world, understanding human nature, pondering the ways of Providence. Then he decided to return to the guru's place on the banks of the river where he had begun his studies.
But when he got there, he found that his guru had died and so his wife. His heart heavy with sorrow over their passing, he went to the nearest town in search of his guru's children. After a while, he found a coolie with a single buffalo. He at once recognised his guru's son in this poor man. What Brahma's iron pen had written in his forehead had come to pass. The disciple's heart grew heavier. He could hardly bear to see his great guru's son a poor man living off a single buffalo. He followed the poor man to his hut, where he had a family, a wife and two ill-fed children. There was a sack of rice in his house and no more. Each day the family anxiously took out a little of it, husked it, and cooked it. When the sack was empty, with his coolie's saving, he was able to get one more sack, that's all. That's how they lived, just as the stylus of Brahma had written.
The disciple started a conversation with the sage's son, calling him by name and asked, 'Do you know me?'
The coolie was astonished to hear his name from the lips of an utter stranger. The disciple introduces himself and explained who he was and begged him to follow his advice. As the disciple was himself middle-aged and looked like a sage, the coolie was impressed. Then the disciple said 'Son, please do as I tell you. As soon as you wake up tomorrow, take your buffalo and the sack of rice and sell them in the market for whatever price they'll fetch. Don't think twice about it. Buy whatever you need for a great dinner for you and your family and finish it all by tomorrow evening. Leave not even a mouth full for the next day. reserve nothing. with the rest of the money, feed the poor and give gifts to the best Brahmans in town. You'll never regret it. I'm your father's disciple and I'm telling you this for your own welfare. Trust me'
But the coolie couldn't believe him, what will I do to feed four mouths in this house if I sell it all tomorrow?' he cried. 'You brahmans are always advising poor people like me to give it all to Brahmans. It's all very well for you. You are at the receiving end.
But his wife who had overheard the conversation, intervened. She said, ' This gentleman looks like a wise man, just like your father who was his guru. He must know something we don't. Let's follow his advice for one day and see'.
The coolie's doubt broke down when she also supported the holy man. The next day, somewhat anxiously, he sold his buffalo and his sack of rice. What he bought with the money was enough to feed fifty Brahmans morning and evening as well as his own family. So that day he fed people other than his own family for the first time in his life. When he went to bed that night after this unusual day, he couldn't sleep. He got up in the middle of the night and found his father's disciple sleeping on the flat ground outside his hut. the disciple was wakened by the coolie's arrival and asked him what the matter was. The coolie said, 'Sir I've done as you told me. In a few hours, it will be dawn. What will I do when my wife and children wake up? What will I feed? I've nothing left not a pice, not a handful of rice, and no buffalo to give milk'.
The disciple showed him some money he had, enough to buy another buffalo and a sack of rice, asked him to go back to bed.
The coolie had bad dreams that night and woke up early. When he went out to wash his face at the well, he looked at the make shift shed where he used to feed his buffalo some straw the first thing every morning. But, to his astonishment, he found another buffalo standing there. He thought, 'Fie on poverty! It makes you dream of buffaloes when you have none'. It was still dark. So he went in and brought out a lamp to see if the buffalo was real. It was a real beast! And beside it was a sack of rice! His heart leapt with joy and he ran out to tell the holy man, his father's disciple. But when he heard the news, the disciple said with a disgusted air, 'My dear man, why do you care so much? why do you feel so overjoyed? Take the beast and the sack of rice at once, and sell them as you did yesterday. Give your family and the Brahmans another terrific meal'.
the coolie obeyed this time without any misgivings. He sold the buffalo and the sack of rice, bought provisions, and again fed his family and fifty Brahmans, keeping nothing. Thus it went in the house of the sages son. Every morning he found a buffalo and a sack of rice. A month passed. The holy man was now sure that this kind of good life has become an established fact in the life of his guru's son. So one day he said, You're now living comfortably. continue to do what you've been doing. Reserve nothing for yourself. If you do, your happiness will end. If you hoard the money, this good fortune will desert you'. He whole heartedly agreed to do everything the holy man said, to the last detail. Then the holy man said, 'I've to go do something else now. Tell me where your sister is? The sages son choked on tears when his sister was mentioned. 'Don't ask about her,' he said. She is lost to the world. The disciple knew full well what the son spoke of. "Just tell me where I can find her," he said.
The son reluctantly directed him to the next village, where she was a prostitute. The disciple then took his leave, ardently wishing to help his master's daughter. Arriving in her village, he reached her house before twilight and knocked on her door. The door was opened at once, as none in her profession wait for a second knock. She was shocked to find a holy man on her doorstep. He introduced himself as the disciple of her father, and she wept with shame, falling to his feet, sorrowing at the thought that she, a common whore, was the child of a great sage. She told him how poverty had brought her to this state. He comforted her, saying, 'Daughter, I ache to see you living in such a way. But if you'll listen to me, I can help you live a better life. Shut your door to all who knock, and say that you'll only open it to one who brings you pearls of the first water. Do it for tonight, and I'll see you in the morning.'
Sick of the life she was living, she readily agreed. Her customers thought she had gone crazy, asking for pearls all of a sudden, and she turned away all comers. But as dawn approached, she began to worry. Who in the village could now afford her price? But Brahma's prophecy had to be fulfilled. In the last hours of the night, Brahma himself assumed the form of a young man, carrying a measure of fine pearls with him. He spent the night with her, and a god loved her until dawn.
She told the holy man all that had transpired. He knew then that his plan had worked. "From now on, you are a pure woman. There are few men in the world who can afford your price every night. Whoever gave you these pearls must continue to do so from now on, as your husband and lover. Never let another person touch you. Now, do what I say: sell all the pearls each day at the market, and spend the money on feeding yourself and the poor. Keep nothing. Give everything away. If you fail to do this, away goes your husband and your life of poverty will return. Will you do what I ask?
The sage's daughter happily agreed. He went to live under a tree near her house to see if this plan would work. It soon did. Finally satisfied with the improved lives of his master's children, the holy man decided to set off on another pilgrimage. Anxious to be going, he woke too early and set off when the moon was still overhead. He hadn't gone too far when he saw a man approach. This handsome figure led a buffalo on a rope, balanced a sack of rice on his head, and had a lustrous string of pearls over his shoulder. The holy man asked this person his business in the forest.
'Who are you sir walking like this in the forest? Asked the holy man.
The man with the buffalo threw down the sack at this question and almost wept as he replies, 'Look, my head has become almost bald from carrying this sack of rice every night to that coolie's house. I lead this buffalo to that man's shed. Then I dress up and carry these pearls to his sister's house. My iron pen wrote their fates on their forehead, and thanks to you, you wretched clever man, I have to supply them whatever was promised at their birth. when will you relieve me of these burdens?
Brahma wept, for it was non-other than Brahma himself. 'Not till you grant them good ordinary life and happiness!' said the holy man. Brahma did exactly that and was relieved of his troubles in these two cases.
Thus were fate and Brahma outwitted.
One thought-provoking and inspiring tale that I personally love is the tale titled
'Outwitting Fate'
A young Brahman in search of knowledge had heard about a great sage and philosopher who lives in the heart of a dense forest, far from the madness of civilization. So he walked for days through the thorns of the jungle and the menace of the wild beast till he reached the lonely cottage on the bank of the river where the great sage lived. the old sage welcomed the young seeker, accepted him as his disciple, and gave him a place to stay in his hut. The young man served the master and his wife in various ways did some of the household chores and learned all he could from the old master.
Now the old man was still youthful, and in his old age, his wife became pregnant for the first time. Just when she was eight months into her pregnancy, the sage had a desire to go and visit the source of the holy river by which he lived. as he could not take her with him, he entrusted her to the care of his disciple and another sage's wife.
The old sage's wife was ready to give birth and, at the appropriate time went into labour. The women friend stayed with her inside the cottage and the disciple waited outside, anxiously praying that she should safely give birth to a healthy baby.
Now, Hindus believe that Brahma, the Creator, is present at the birth of every child and writes on the newborn infant's forehead his or her fortunes. He is supposed to arrive just at the moment of birth, just when the child leaves the mother's womb to enter the world. He is, of course, invisible to ordinary mortals. But the young disciple's eyes were not exactly those of any ordinary mortal. His master had given him all kinds of knowledge and various powers. So he was startled to see a person entering most unceremoniously, the cottage where his mater's wife was giving birth.
Stop right there! said the disciple angrily. The great God shuddered, for no one so far had ever seen him or stopped him like this in his eternal round of duties. He was astonished and quite bewildered when he heard the following words of rebuke: 'You old brahman, what do you think your doing, entering my master's cottage without so much as a by-your-leave? Right in front of me! my teacher's wife is in labour. You can't go in there'.
Bhrama hastily explained to the young man who he was and what he was about to do. The baby had already begun to leave the womb and he had very little time to waste. When the young man heard who he was, he tied his upper cloth around his waist as a mark of respect before an elder and a god, prostrated himself before Brahma, and begged his pardon.
Brahma was in a hurry. He wanted to go in at once, but the young man would not let him go until he has told him what he meant to write on the forehead of the newborn child. 'Son', said the Brahma, 'even I do not know what my stylus will write on the forehead of the newborn. As the child comes into the world, I place the stylus on its head and it writes the fate of the child according to it's good and bad acts in its previous life. You shouldn't stop me here. I have to go in at once.'
'Then' said the young man, 'on your way out, you must tell me what was written on the forehead of my guru's child.'
'All right', said the Brahma in a hurry and went in. In a moment he returned, and the young man asked the god what his stylus had written.
'Son, I'll tell you what it wrote', said Brahma. 'But if you tell anyone about it, your head will split into thousand pieces. The child is a boy. He has a hard life before him. A buffalo and a sack of rice will be his share in life; he'll have to live on it. What can be done?'
'What! O, father of the Gods, this child is the son of a great sage. Is this his fate?' cried the disciple.
'What do I have to do with it? Such are the fruits of a former life. Wha's sown in the past must be reaped in the present. Now, remember what I said: if you reveal this secret to anyone, your head will explode into a thousand pieces'.
Then the Brahma vanished, leaving the young disciple bewildered by what he had heard and pained by the thought of what a hard life awaited his guru's newborn son. But he could tell no one about it.
His guru returned from his pilgrimage and was delighted to see his wife and child doing well. And the young disciple forgot his sorrow in the learned company of the old sage.
Three more years passed his deep study, and again the old sage decided to go on a pilgrimage to the sacred source of the Tungabhadra River. Again his wife was pregnant, and he had to leave her in the care of his disciple and his friend's wife. This time, too, Brahma came at the moment of birth. The young man was waiting for him. Brahma was again stopped at the door and promised to tell the young man the fate of the child. On his way out, the god told the young man. 'The child is a girl this time. My stylus has written that she has to earn her living as a prostitute, sell her body every night. Remember what I told you last time: if you reveal this secret to anyone, your head will explode into a thousand pieces. Don't forget'.
When Brahma left the young man was still in shock. The daughter of the holiest man was fated to live the life of a prostitute! After turning over and over in his mind for days, he consoled himself with the thought that fate alone governs human lives.
The old sage returned from his pilgrimage, and the young disciple spent two more years with him. At the end of these years, when the boy was five and the girl was two, the disciple himself decided to go on a pilgrimage to the Himalayas. The thought of the growing children and the miserable fate that was waiting for them filled him with pain and even anger, though he consoled himself again and again with the thoughts of fate.
With the guru's permission, he left the forest hu and his guru's family and journey towards the Himalayas. He visited many towns and learned men, lived with and learned from many sages. He wandered for twenty years, examining the world, understanding human nature, pondering the ways of Providence. Then he decided to return to the guru's place on the banks of the river where he had begun his studies.
But when he got there, he found that his guru had died and so his wife. His heart heavy with sorrow over their passing, he went to the nearest town in search of his guru's children. After a while, he found a coolie with a single buffalo. He at once recognised his guru's son in this poor man. What Brahma's iron pen had written in his forehead had come to pass. The disciple's heart grew heavier. He could hardly bear to see his great guru's son a poor man living off a single buffalo. He followed the poor man to his hut, where he had a family, a wife and two ill-fed children. There was a sack of rice in his house and no more. Each day the family anxiously took out a little of it, husked it, and cooked it. When the sack was empty, with his coolie's saving, he was able to get one more sack, that's all. That's how they lived, just as the stylus of Brahma had written.
The disciple started a conversation with the sage's son, calling him by name and asked, 'Do you know me?'
The coolie was astonished to hear his name from the lips of an utter stranger. The disciple introduces himself and explained who he was and begged him to follow his advice. As the disciple was himself middle-aged and looked like a sage, the coolie was impressed. Then the disciple said 'Son, please do as I tell you. As soon as you wake up tomorrow, take your buffalo and the sack of rice and sell them in the market for whatever price they'll fetch. Don't think twice about it. Buy whatever you need for a great dinner for you and your family and finish it all by tomorrow evening. Leave not even a mouth full for the next day. reserve nothing. with the rest of the money, feed the poor and give gifts to the best Brahmans in town. You'll never regret it. I'm your father's disciple and I'm telling you this for your own welfare. Trust me'
But the coolie couldn't believe him, what will I do to feed four mouths in this house if I sell it all tomorrow?' he cried. 'You brahmans are always advising poor people like me to give it all to Brahmans. It's all very well for you. You are at the receiving end.
But his wife who had overheard the conversation, intervened. She said, ' This gentleman looks like a wise man, just like your father who was his guru. He must know something we don't. Let's follow his advice for one day and see'.
The coolie's doubt broke down when she also supported the holy man. The next day, somewhat anxiously, he sold his buffalo and his sack of rice. What he bought with the money was enough to feed fifty Brahmans morning and evening as well as his own family. So that day he fed people other than his own family for the first time in his life. When he went to bed that night after this unusual day, he couldn't sleep. He got up in the middle of the night and found his father's disciple sleeping on the flat ground outside his hut. the disciple was wakened by the coolie's arrival and asked him what the matter was. The coolie said, 'Sir I've done as you told me. In a few hours, it will be dawn. What will I do when my wife and children wake up? What will I feed? I've nothing left not a pice, not a handful of rice, and no buffalo to give milk'.
The disciple showed him some money he had, enough to buy another buffalo and a sack of rice, asked him to go back to bed.
The coolie had bad dreams that night and woke up early. When he went out to wash his face at the well, he looked at the make shift shed where he used to feed his buffalo some straw the first thing every morning. But, to his astonishment, he found another buffalo standing there. He thought, 'Fie on poverty! It makes you dream of buffaloes when you have none'. It was still dark. So he went in and brought out a lamp to see if the buffalo was real. It was a real beast! And beside it was a sack of rice! His heart leapt with joy and he ran out to tell the holy man, his father's disciple. But when he heard the news, the disciple said with a disgusted air, 'My dear man, why do you care so much? why do you feel so overjoyed? Take the beast and the sack of rice at once, and sell them as you did yesterday. Give your family and the Brahmans another terrific meal'.
the coolie obeyed this time without any misgivings. He sold the buffalo and the sack of rice, bought provisions, and again fed his family and fifty Brahmans, keeping nothing. Thus it went in the house of the sages son. Every morning he found a buffalo and a sack of rice. A month passed. The holy man was now sure that this kind of good life has become an established fact in the life of his guru's son. So one day he said, You're now living comfortably. continue to do what you've been doing. Reserve nothing for yourself. If you do, your happiness will end. If you hoard the money, this good fortune will desert you'. He whole heartedly agreed to do everything the holy man said, to the last detail. Then the holy man said, 'I've to go do something else now. Tell me where your sister is? The sages son choked on tears when his sister was mentioned. 'Don't ask about her,' he said. She is lost to the world. The disciple knew full well what the son spoke of. "Just tell me where I can find her," he said.
The son reluctantly directed him to the next village, where she was a prostitute. The disciple then took his leave, ardently wishing to help his master's daughter. Arriving in her village, he reached her house before twilight and knocked on her door. The door was opened at once, as none in her profession wait for a second knock. She was shocked to find a holy man on her doorstep. He introduced himself as the disciple of her father, and she wept with shame, falling to his feet, sorrowing at the thought that she, a common whore, was the child of a great sage. She told him how poverty had brought her to this state. He comforted her, saying, 'Daughter, I ache to see you living in such a way. But if you'll listen to me, I can help you live a better life. Shut your door to all who knock, and say that you'll only open it to one who brings you pearls of the first water. Do it for tonight, and I'll see you in the morning.'
Sick of the life she was living, she readily agreed. Her customers thought she had gone crazy, asking for pearls all of a sudden, and she turned away all comers. But as dawn approached, she began to worry. Who in the village could now afford her price? But Brahma's prophecy had to be fulfilled. In the last hours of the night, Brahma himself assumed the form of a young man, carrying a measure of fine pearls with him. He spent the night with her, and a god loved her until dawn.
She told the holy man all that had transpired. He knew then that his plan had worked. "From now on, you are a pure woman. There are few men in the world who can afford your price every night. Whoever gave you these pearls must continue to do so from now on, as your husband and lover. Never let another person touch you. Now, do what I say: sell all the pearls each day at the market, and spend the money on feeding yourself and the poor. Keep nothing. Give everything away. If you fail to do this, away goes your husband and your life of poverty will return. Will you do what I ask?
The sage's daughter happily agreed. He went to live under a tree near her house to see if this plan would work. It soon did. Finally satisfied with the improved lives of his master's children, the holy man decided to set off on another pilgrimage. Anxious to be going, he woke too early and set off when the moon was still overhead. He hadn't gone too far when he saw a man approach. This handsome figure led a buffalo on a rope, balanced a sack of rice on his head, and had a lustrous string of pearls over his shoulder. The holy man asked this person his business in the forest.
'Who are you sir walking like this in the forest? Asked the holy man.
The man with the buffalo threw down the sack at this question and almost wept as he replies, 'Look, my head has become almost bald from carrying this sack of rice every night to that coolie's house. I lead this buffalo to that man's shed. Then I dress up and carry these pearls to his sister's house. My iron pen wrote their fates on their forehead, and thanks to you, you wretched clever man, I have to supply them whatever was promised at their birth. when will you relieve me of these burdens?
Brahma wept, for it was non-other than Brahma himself. 'Not till you grant them good ordinary life and happiness!' said the holy man. Brahma did exactly that and was relieved of his troubles in these two cases.
Thus were fate and Brahma outwitted.
April 14, 2023
Folktales from India, penned by the renowned poet and scholar A.K. Ramanujan, is a delightful compilation of oral folktales from various languages and dialects of India. The book showcases Ramanujan's impressive scholarship and passion for folklore, as it covers more than 15 linguistic traditions from different corners of the country.
The beauty of this collection lies in its ability to capture the essence of these age-old stories, while making them accessible to a modern audience. Ramanujan's writing is both engaging and informative, making each tale feel unique and alive. For those who grew up listening to these stories, the book offers a nostalgic trip down memory lane, bringing to life some of the classic grandmother's tales often shared during the festival of Karva Chauth.
Beyond the entertainment value, Folktales from India also provides a deeper understanding of the cultural diversity and shared values within India. Each story is a reflection of the region it originates from, highlighting the societal norms, beliefs, and traditions passed down through generations.
Folktales from India is not just a book of stories; it's a celebration of India's rich and varied cultural heritage. Ramanujan's painstaking efforts in preserving these timeless tales make this book a must-read for anyone interested in folklore, Indian culture, or simply reliving the enchanting stories of their childhood. In an age where globalization threatens the existence of such narratives, Folktales from India serves as a vital reminder of the importance of preserving our cultural treasures.
The beauty of this collection lies in its ability to capture the essence of these age-old stories, while making them accessible to a modern audience. Ramanujan's writing is both engaging and informative, making each tale feel unique and alive. For those who grew up listening to these stories, the book offers a nostalgic trip down memory lane, bringing to life some of the classic grandmother's tales often shared during the festival of Karva Chauth.
Beyond the entertainment value, Folktales from India also provides a deeper understanding of the cultural diversity and shared values within India. Each story is a reflection of the region it originates from, highlighting the societal norms, beliefs, and traditions passed down through generations.
Folktales from India is not just a book of stories; it's a celebration of India's rich and varied cultural heritage. Ramanujan's painstaking efforts in preserving these timeless tales make this book a must-read for anyone interested in folklore, Indian culture, or simply reliving the enchanting stories of their childhood. In an age where globalization threatens the existence of such narratives, Folktales from India serves as a vital reminder of the importance of preserving our cultural treasures.
November 25, 2022
"What fortune gave, karma took away."
Cute collection. Not as fantastical as the Ramayana, more like The Complete Grimm's Fairy Tales or (the previous book I read) Italian Folktales. Lots of stories with tigers, lots of stories of fate (or trying to change it).
Cute collection. Not as fantastical as the Ramayana, more like The Complete Grimm's Fairy Tales or (the previous book I read) Italian Folktales. Lots of stories with tigers, lots of stories of fate (or trying to change it).
April 10, 2025
ಅಜ್ಜಿಕತೆಗಳನ್ನ, ಅಜ್ಜನತ್ರ ಕತೆಗಳನ್ನ ಕೇಳೆ ಇರೋರು ನಾವೆಲ್ಲ. ಹಾಗೆ ಆದ್ರೆ ಬೇರೆ ಬೇರೆ ಭಾಷೆಯಲ್ಲಿ ಹೇಗ್ಹೇಗೆ ಜನಪದ ಕತೆಗಳು ಇದಾವೆ ಅಂತ ಕುತೂಹಲ ಇದ್ಯಾ? ಹಾಗಾದ್ರೆ ಈ ಪುಸ್ತಕ ಓದಿ. ಒಟ್ಟು 22 ಭಾಷೆಗಳಿಂದ ಆಯ್ದ ಕನ್ನಡಕ್ಕೆ ಅನುವಾದವಾದ ಜನಪದ ಕತೆಗಳು.
ಬಾಯ್ಮಾತಿನಲ್ಲಿ ಬರ್ತಾ ಇದ್ದ, ರಾಜ ರಾಣಿ, ಮೂರ್ಖರು, ಕಳ್ರು, ಬೇಡುವವರು, ಇಚ್ಛಾದಾರಿಗಳು, ಅವರುಗಳು ಇವರುಗಳ ಕತೆಗಳ ಸಂಕಲನ ಇದು. ಜಾನಪದ ಪರಂಪರೆಯ ಪರಿಚಯ ಮಾಡ್ಕೋಬೇಕು ಅಂತೆಲ್ಲ ಇದ್ರೆ ಈ ಪುಸ್ತಕ ಸಖತ್ ಉಪಯೋಗಕ್ಕೆ ಬರುತ್ತೆ ನಿಮಗೆ. ಚೆನ್ನಾಗಿದೆ. ಜೈ
ಬಾಯ್ಮಾತಿನಲ್ಲಿ ಬರ್ತಾ ಇದ್ದ, ರಾಜ ರಾಣಿ, ಮೂರ್ಖರು, ಕಳ್ರು, ಬೇಡುವವರು, ಇಚ್ಛಾದಾರಿಗಳು, ಅವರುಗಳು ಇವರುಗಳ ಕತೆಗಳ ಸಂಕಲನ ಇದು. ಜಾನಪದ ಪರಂಪರೆಯ ಪರಿಚಯ ಮಾಡ್ಕೋಬೇಕು ಅಂತೆಲ್ಲ ಇದ್ರೆ ಈ ಪುಸ್ತಕ ಸಖತ್ ಉಪಯೋಗಕ್ಕೆ ಬರುತ್ತೆ ನಿಮಗೆ. ಚೆನ್ನಾಗಿದೆ. ಜೈ
November 25, 2025
The stories here contain three elements that I've found missing in European or American tales: 1) genuine humor, 2) creative turns, especially involving out-of-body experiences and reincarnation, and 3) profoundly Indian family melodramas about insulting your mother-in-law, etc. While the latter gets tedious after a while, the first two are to my knowledge unique and make this a great read.
December 10, 2017
I enjoyed this so much!
I had no idea what I was getting myself into! These stories were not something that I had heard before being from India myself. Some of them were pretty grim and that was not expected!
I had no idea what I was getting myself into! These stories were not something that I had heard before being from India myself. Some of them were pretty grim and that was not expected!
February 19, 2018
Not one for the kids! The stories span all emotions, some being laugh out funny, others so violent as to make Tarantino salivate, others salacious enough to burn modern ears, some with lessons, and many more were just...stories meant to entertain.
July 15, 2018
A.K. Ramanujan is known for firmly establishing his works in the Indian-Hindu ethos. This book is a must for every Indian to enjoy the tender and delicate flow of the Indian tradition over ages. These stories reflect a characteristic aura of their respective corners of India.
September 7, 2018
The book includes over 100 oral tales transcribed from 22 different languages. The stories deal
with village customs, in-laws, demons, tricksters, royalty, etc. This is a wonderful collection of folklore and a great book to dip into when you have a few minutes to read.
with village customs, in-laws, demons, tricksters, royalty, etc. This is a wonderful collection of folklore and a great book to dip into when you have a few minutes to read.
January 2, 2020
An insightful read into India and its colourful, loud, intricate cultural fabric.
The best part for me was revisiting fairy tales my grandma once told me as a child in dehkani urdu and seeing them from a different perspective.
The best part for me was revisiting fairy tales my grandma once told me as a child in dehkani urdu and seeing them from a different perspective.
March 7, 2017
These short stories are such a delight to read. Will write more about it some other time.
September 6, 2017
One of the best book of short stories ever.Still my favourite collection, love the fantasy and Indian folktales woven together.
July 8, 2019
A bit on the simpler side, but a collection of more maturely told Indian folktales is pretty rare, and Ramanujan is an old collector -- so this had to be rated decently.
July 25, 2019
This book is such a treat to read! All these tales are very detailed and carefully come across in a splendid way!
January 1, 2020
Excellent collection!
June 12, 2020
Quite an exhaustive collection of folktales from different parts of India.
October 27, 2024
There were a handful of tales which also resembles stories that have Chinese or south East Asian versions. They remind us about the interconnectedness of humanity and its oral traditions.
May 23, 2021
A cultural snapshot, of generations of Indian folklore. The author takes us through a variety of emotions with every new tale. Most tales are an expression of virtues like grit, wit, will, valour and more! It's a good bedside read to catch a glimpse of how modern day traditions came into existence.
May 23, 2007
Fantasies and fables woven around kings, princes, animals, common men and women. Some of them are stories that I'd never heard. On the whole, they are good to read and also for reading sessions with young children. Includes notes/references for the academically inclined too.
October 11, 2007
I love old fairytales no matter where in the world they're from. Some classics here, with the crazy but accepted plots, such as whole families living at the bottom of wells and such places until the son grows old enough to climb out on their shoulders...
January 31, 2010
I really enjoyed these folk tales from India. It was interesting to see the language each came from and the region. So many similarities between Indian tales and other folk tales around the world. Very fun.
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