Princess Naulakha

Once in a certain country lived a king who had six sons and one beautiful daughter. The princess was named Naulakha. She was the youngest and much beloved by her brothers. The years passed, and when the old king died, his eldest son took the throne.

Naulakha was by now a woman of grace, with long dark hair and eyes that were large and luminous. Her brothers saw that she should soon be married, so they set off to find her a husband. Their wives, an ill-natured, jealous lot, were left alone in the palace with the princess.

"Sisters,"the wives said to one another, tossing their long black braids, bits of red ribbon glinting in the sunlight, "Our husbands dote on Naulakha and pay no attention to us. Let us show the princess how it will be now that her brothers are gone."

The wives forced Naulakha to do all the work of the palace and barely gave her enough to eat. They took away all of her beautiful saris and tossed her their old tattered ones to wear instead. The princess grew sad, but there was no one to comfort her. Quietly she did as she was told and ate the little she was given.

One day the wives called to Naulakha and ordered her to fetch a bundle of firewood from the forest. But they didn't give her so much as a namlo to tie it with. "You must do this task," they told her, "before you return home."

Heavyhearted, Naulakha set off for the forest to collect the wood. She gathered a pile of twigs and branches, then looked about for something to tie them with, but she could find nothing. Tired and afraid, she sat down to rest. A python hanging from a nearby tree spied her. "Beautiful maiden," he said, "what has befallen you?"

The princess told him her story, and the large snake took pity on her. He slithered down the tree and coiled himself around the bundle of firewood like a namlo. The princess then picked up the bundle and carried it home.

When Naulakha appeared in the palace with the firewood neatly tied, the evil-hearted wives could not believe their eyes. Quickly they ordered her to another task, this time to bring water from a near-empty well. Naulakha went to the well, but hard as she tried, she could not reach the low water at the bottom. She called out in frustration, "If I cannot do this task, I will surely be banished."

Hearing her words, the water god at the bottom of the well caused the water to swell to the top. The princess then filled her brass pitcher and hurried home.

The evil-hearted wives could not believe Naulakha had drawn water from a near-empty well. They assigned her to another task, this time to peel the husks off every grain of rice in a large sack,using only her fingernails. Naulakha brought the sack to a field and began to work. After many hours, she found she had peeled only a tiny portion of the rice grains. She sighed deeply.

The king of the birds, hearing her sigh, ordered his subjects, great and small, to the job. In an instant, the birds had peeled the husks off every grain of rice.

The princess went home, the sack of peeled rice at her side. Her brothers'wives were surprised to see she had finished the task so quickly. They could not believe she had done exactly as they told her, so they sat down to count the grains, one by one. To their great glee, they discovered that, indeed, one grain of rice was missing. They ordered Naulakha to find the missing grain at once.

Naulakha returned to the king of the birds and told him her plight. Immediately the king ordered a search for the lost grain. A bluejay found it stuck on the beak of a young crow. Naulakha went home with the lost grain and gave it to her sisters-in-law.

The hardhearted wives were amazed. Each time they had given Naulakha a difficult task, she had completed it. Now they tried to think of something utterly impossible. They huddled together, whis- pering and scheming, until finally they decided on the most difficult task of all. They gave Naulakha a black blanket and ordered her to wash it until it turned white. She was not to return home until the job was done.

The obedient princess brought the blanket to a nearby stream and began washing it. Day after day, she sat by the stream, washing the blanket, beating it with stones, swirling it in the rushing water. But the blanket remained as black as ever.

Days became months and still Naulakha knelt by the stream, washing the blanket. Passersby on their way to the temple called out, "Namaste!"But the princess was too tired to answer.

Day after day, she ate the leaves and the roots of plants, for the cruel wives barely fed her. Each day she grew thinner. Her face,once so full and lustrous, was now withered and gray. One chilly day,as the princess sat by the stream, washing the blanket, a group of travelers passed by. Moved by the sight of her, they asked, "Who are you, sister?"

Naulakha looked up and saw that the travelers were her broth- ers. In a weak and trembling voice, she told them who she was and all that had happened. The princes could not bear to hear their sister's story. "Dear Naulakha!" they cried. "Our wives have made you suffer. Now they will be made to suffer more than you."They lifted her frail body from the bank of the stream and carried her home.

When the wives saw their husbands coming, they ran out to greet them, offering food and fresh flowers. Telling lie after lie, they pretended to be greatly concerned about Naulakha's dwindling health.

The princes, unable to tolerate their wives'hypocrisies, were about to put the women to death, when Naulakha came before them, pleading for mercy on their behalf. Reluctantly the brothers agreed to spare the women's lives but banished them from the kingdom forever.

Once again Princess Naulakha walked with grace and again dressed in flowing saris. A fine prince had been found and soon they were married. The princess was now as happy as before. Her love for her brothers and theirs for her remained strong and faithful all of their days.

[1]sari-Nepalese dress

[2]namlo-strap

[3]Namaste!-Greetings!