I make a living out of telling stories. It is literally true since I will be killed unless I keep on telling stories. I have to think of how to end the story I started last night. But I cannot afford to just end the story. A new story has to be begun so that my husband will continue to be interested in me. Otherwise he will cut me into pieces ! I have to do all this while the he lies on top of me. A new story has to take its birth in me as I wish that his seed does not germinate into a new baby.. He groans and I moan. This is the sign for my sister Duny (actually her name is Dunizyad) to come and ask me to continue the last night’s story.
My poor sister ! I don’t think she sleeps at all. She has to listen to all the sounds her brother in law and I make. At first she was curious abut it all but now kind of blasé about it ! Those first nights she used to sleep below our cot. As you probably know, royal cots are very high . My husband and I have to climb a ladder to get into our beds. The beds are really great, but this ladder business gets to me. I guess this is the price one pays for being royalty. They call it security. Nobody should come and cut our throats off in the night, Is’nt it ? As for Duny, she now sleeps outside our room. She used to knock on the door but we have all become too informal l. She is all ears and knows when to come in and pop her question . I hope seeing us locked (literally ) in holy matrimony does not spoil men for her ! I want a good life for her. We are so fond of each other. She also helps me out a lot when I
I remember a story in which she helped me a lot. It was about a poor and honest man who finds a big treasure stored by a band of thieves in a cave. I made him go several times to the cave and load the treasure on his donkey. But I could not go on doing this for ever. Even my not so bright husband will think I am just delaying. Something had to happen. I could not let the honest man die. It is actually Duny who helped me to create another character, his brother who is rich but cruel and avaricious . Of course , I should also mention the great contribution made my husband. We had made the number of thieves to be 39 but my Lord and Master insisted it should be 40. We had no other choice. And so it became Ali Baba and Forty thieves.
I am yet to tell you why I have to keep on telling stories to my husband. You must be curious since I also told you that he will cut me into pieces. Well here is my tale. My husband is the Emperor of
I can go into a tirade ! Actualy I did scream when I first heard about it from my father. What does he mean by saying all women are unfaithful ? May be some women like more than one man. Is it so bad ? What about men themselves ? Can they keep on having wives, concubines , mistresses, Etc, etc.. ? My father reminded me that he is the Shah and he can do jolly well whatever he wants . As for me, he told me that I am just a vazir’s daughter and better not babble too much . Babble , he called it. Yes, if a woman opens her mouth to say something important, it becomes babble. If a man does it, it is praised as profound !
Well, after his dastardly act, the Shah summons his Vazir to fetch him another virgin. Poor father ! He found one , the Shah married her and then in the morning dispatched her to the beyond in the sky. It went on and on. All the young girls in the land started disappearing. At times even not so young girls had the same fate. May be some of them were not virgins. Poor father ! how is he to know about it ? And , as for the king, there are ways to deceive bridegrooms into believing they were the first( Please refer to some of my stories where such incidents are narrated). Finally, father comes to us one day and bids us good bye since he could not locate any more virgins for the king. He was sure that the king would get mighty angry and cut him into pieces.
That is the time when I stepped into the picture. I told my father to present me as the next victim. He refused initially but he reluctantly agreed later. My sister started crying but I told her my plans. I told her that I will appeal to the child in this barbarous king who was to become my husband. I will start a story but will take my own time in ending it. That will buy me several nights. And as the first story is getting over, I make sure I start another story which will keep my husband curious . That will keep me alive. Duny worried that it may not last long. I told her let us try and we will see, I made her ask for the story after the king has his will of me. I tell the story till day break. It is the same thing every night, And every night .
Well, it has gone on for one thousand days now. I have somehow maintained to keep husband very curious of what would happen the next day. In between I have give him three children. But I don’t know what will happen tonight . I just cannot go on doing this. I want a normal life. Duny wants a normal life. We sleep during the day. Even my husband needs a normal life. At times he is found snoring when matters of state are discussed. Yes, this cannot go on for ever. And I start telling a new story hoping that it would be my last tale:
There are two kingdoms which are always fighting with each other. A fresh fight starts. Name of the kingdoms ? Anga and Vanga ! (The king intercepts asking to know whether the story is from Hindoostan. My Lord and Master is also now more aware of geography, history and what not. I even gave him a whole lesson on Anatomy . And about Sufi mystics. Well, I tell him that it is from Hindoostan. After all quite a few stories I have told him are from that land.) . The Anga kingdom is defeated. The Anga king and all the royalty die fighting. The only ones left are the Anga queen and the Anga princess. They flee into the forest. The Vanga king is worried as to the whereabouts of the Anga royalty. He decides to go into the forest to look for them . The prince accompanies him. As they keep walking, they see footprints. One is large and the other is small. They keep discussing about it and the father decides that the footprints must be of women. ( To the unitiated, the ratio of the sizes of the big toe to the small toe is very small in case of women. (My Lord, it means that women do not have large big toes. Wait, you can check it later. Let us proceed)). The father says he will marry the one with the big footprint and the prince can marry the other lady. Finally, they see these two royal Anga women. After some initial cajoling, the Anga ladies decide to marry the Vanga men. According to their pact earlier, the Anga king marries the Vanga princess and the Anga prince marries the Vanga queen. Anga and Vanga come together. Nine months after the royal marriage there is great festivity in the capital. The King gets a boy and the prince gets a girl.
I am interrupted by my Lord and Master. He says” Wait, my queen. Don’t go any further. Tell me what is the relationship between the two new children. Anga father marries Vanga daughter and gets a boy. Anga son marries Vanga mother and gets a girl. He has to be the ..” Now I start to smile. I decide to take the same escape route which the king in the original story from Hindoostan did.
I tell my husband that I do not know the answer and I cannot proceed till I figure it out. I also tell him to inform me if he can find the answer and then only we can go on to the next story . Well, my end did not come that day or even the next day since I could never finish the story.
Meanwhile we got Duny married to my husband’s brother. She is happy. My husband has become mellow. But I hear him once in while in the night saying Anga , Vanga,Vanga, Anga... We are all happy and I hope we will continue to do so till THE DESTROYER OF DELIGHTS comes to take us away !
( Note : All stories in THE ARABIAN NIGHTS end with the standard line - THEY LIVED HAPPILY TILL THE DESTROYER OF DELIGHTS CAME TO TAKE THEM AWAY
The last story told be the Persian Queen here is the same as the last story of Vikram -Betal. Betal asks this question and Vikram has no answer !) )
** Appeared in Sulekha blogs in Dec 2008
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