In this episode, we’re covering an Uttar Pradesh Folk tale. It’s a story of a Woodcutter and a wonderful Magic Bowl that can cook up any dish.
The poor woodcutter family
Swarthi was a woodcutter who lived in a little village at the edge of a dark forest. As with all dark forests, this was the kind that was best avoided. But Swarthi had no choice. He was the sole breadwinner in his family. Every morning, Saturdays and Sundays included, Swarthi had to go deep into the forest and cut down some trees. It’s unclear why he didn’t just simply cut the trees at the very edge of the forest, right next to his home. It would certainly have reduced his daily commute. But maybe cutting the trees in the dense middle of the forest was more sustainable. Regardless, that’s what Swarthi did. He had several mouths to feed – including his wife, and several children.
At least he was taking some steps to train his children, so that they could help out. In stereotypical Medieval fashion, he got his boys axes to practice woodcutting with, while he got his girls some kitchen knives, so they could help their mom in the kitchen. The decision to hand little children dangerous sharp objects was also stereotypically medieval.
A mysterious disappearance
One day, Swarthi decided to venture a little further than he had ever gone before. No particular reason other than that he didn’t want to hurry home. It was his turn on diaper changing duty that night for his youngest children. It was a job he did not relish, and so he preferred to minimize his time at home.
Swarthi reached a part of the forest that he had never been in before. He found the perfect tree. And began swinging away with his ax. But all his dreams of selling this premium quality wood were interrupted by the sound of laughter! He walked cautiously towards the source.
He did not return home that evening. Back at home Swarthi’s wife, whose name was Swadheen, was getting worried. Not least because diaper duty fell to her. Little did Swadheen realize that soon a lot more was going to fall into her lap besides just diaper duty.
She waited a day but still no Swarthi. Swadheen then reported him to the Gumshuda Talash Kendra, and waited back to hear the news. But there was no news. And in this case, no news, was not good news.
Apsara After-Party!
Meanwhile, you might be wondering what Swarthi was up to in the dark forest. Had a wild beast pounced on him and gobbled him up? Or was he abducted by aliens in a flying saucer? Or did he simply hurt himself? Or did he go to sleep like Rip Van Winkle?
It was none of these. Swarthi followed the sound of laughter and he happened on a little clearing. There he saw the most unusual sight. 4 beautiful ladies dressed in very fashionable dresses were singing and dancing in a little circle. Well, because it’s only 4 people in the circle, the circle was more of a square. But that doesn’t matter.
Swarthi approached them and they all giggled amongst themselves. He didn’t mind. He thought each looked more beautiful than the rest. Not pleasant thoughts for a man to have when his family is back home starving, but hey if it’s not already abundantly clear to you, Swarthi was not a model person with outstanding moral values.
He introduced himself and politely asked them who they were. They said they were Apsaras, just wrapping up a party that he had crashed. An Apsara in case you don’t know is a dancer from heaven, known for her skill and for her beauty. These women checked those boxes, except they weren’t in heaven. To Swarthi though, being in the company of these women made him feel like he was in heaven.
He looked around and as he saw a Gazebo in the clearing and various decorations and such he saw he was clearly in a party space. He was intruding. The civilized thing to do would be to apologize and to remove himself from the scene quickly. But Swarthi could not bear to tear himself away from these beautiful ladies whose laughter sounded like the delicate peal of bells.
He glanced around desperately until he saw the “Help Wanted” sign on the gazebo. Did the Apsaras have a job for him? He’d do it, for lower wages than what anyone else was asking them. They wouldn’t even have to offer him employer-sponsored health insurance and such.
It’s bartending, buttling, sweeping the floors, mopping, doing our dirty dishes and laundry, challenged one Apsara. Are you really going to do all that? But Swarthi nodded. Not even the job application form and its next-of-kin question reminded Swarthi about his family.
What I’ll say in his favor is that he did his job well. He did not even ask for a salary. When it was time for the next meal, the Apsaras asked him to serve them food. He was puzzled. He had set the dining table and plates and silverware for them, but there hadn’t been any sign of food. For that matter the Apsaras’ home did not even have a kitchen. Were they expecting him to have cooked something for them?
But the Apsaras giggled their delightful little giggles when he asked that question. One of them pointed towards an old bowl that was placed on a tree stump. It was a magic bowl, she said. All he had to do was wish for something and it would appear.
He tried it and it was amazing! It worked perfectly. Each Apsara wished for something she wanted to eat, and instantly the dishes appeared in the bowl. All Swarthi had to do was to serve them. When they were done, they allowed him to eat whatever he wanted out of the bowl. There was no tax he had to pay, no raw materials he had to supply. He just had an endless supply of food. Swarthi tried it all out. And at the end of the meal, he had stuffed himself with Gulab Jamoon, Shrikhand, Jalebis, Rasgullas. When asked by the Apsaras if he had been a little rash, Swarthi replied calmly that it would have been rash not to have tried all those sweets.
Life goes on
While Swarthi was downing one rich dish after another, the conversation back in his family home was markedly different. They were eating pickled cucumbers for lunch today. And because it was Sunday, everyone got an extra nibble.
By the end of that day, Swadheen had decided that they didn’t need Swarthi to survive. They could manage on their own. So she got her boys to get their axes out, and go chop some wood. And because she was more efficient than Swarthi, she asked them to cut the wood right next to their home, instead of going deep into the forest.
It worked. Swadheen’s children brought some wood, sold it and made a little money. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. And over the days, they kept getting better and better. Until finally they scraped above the poverty line.
Longing for Home
Swarthi meanwhile occasionally thought of home and wondered if he should go back. But he had no desire to return. Not when he had an endless supply of delicious food here. He longed to stop doing the menial jobs he was doing, but he couldn’t bear to part himself from the bowl.
He racked his brains. He read his employment contract, until finally he got it!
He went to the Apsaras one day and told them he intended to leave. He had to return to his family.
Art of the Deal
The first reaction from the Apsaras when they heard his resignation was that of shock. They didn’t know that Swarthi even had a family whom he had been neglecting. Of course, Swarthi must go back. How would his family have survived without him. They were sorry to lose their butler, but hey, they would be happy for him.
Swarthi said he packed up his non-existent bags and was ready to go but there was just one thing that was missing. Payment for his services. The Apsaras offered him Apsara money, but Swarthi invoked a clause in the employment contract that he had found – payment must be in the local currency of the employee, not the employer. And having kept their house for so long he was absolutely sure they didn’t have human currency.
Which brought them to clause 34 of the contract. If employers are unable to pay the employee, the employee may claim equivalent value in goods owned by said employers. And Swarthi knew exactly which of the Apsara goods he wanted. The Magic Bowl of course.
The Apsaras were sad now. They pleaded with Swarthi not to take their Bowl, but he didn’t listen. This meant the Apsaras had to do work to get food from now on. But Swarthi was on top of cloud nine. His life was made!
Family Reunion
Swarthi was careful to hide the bowl in a secret place before reaching home. He didn’t want everyone to get their hands on it. He knew that he would only have fame if he did something special. As it is he would have to come up with an excuse. Which he thought of.
“Dragons. I was kidnapped by dragons,” he explained to Swadheen.
His story was a little hard to believe because no one had heard of dragons before. Dragons weren’t really a thing in Indian mythology. In other cultures, sure. But not so much in that village in Ancient India.
Swarthi told an elaborate story including how he was abducted by a flying saucer and taken to the middle of the Bermuda Triangle, and basically many other adventures. He had shown extreme courage under fire in escaping the way he did. Never mind the details, if his family didn’t mind he didn’t want to share. Not that he had already overworked his imagination but he claimed he still had some trauma from his gruesome experience.
What matters is that I am back. He said and I see you have done well for yourselves. The boys have been cutting wood no doubt?
His family confessed that it had been hard but they had learned to live. And yes it was a good thing that Swarthi was back. Now could he please start cutting wood again so that the children could go back to playing hopscotch with all the other little kids their age?
“Tell me,” said Swarthi. “Why do we need to cut wood?”
Why, of course, so that they could sell the wood and get some money. Swadheen replied.
And what did they want with money was Swarthi’s next question.
So they could buy grains of course. And before he asked, they said they needed grains so that they could cook them. And they needed to cook grains so that they could eat them. How did he not know all this? Had he bumped his head in this thing he called the Bermuda Triangle?
He ignored the comment, and asked what if they just cut out some steps in the cycle, and simply ate food that was readymade for them. They needn’t cook, they needn’t cut wood, they needn’t sell the wood. And it was all free of charge.
Swadheen was going to call the local Vaidya or Doctor to help check what was wrong with her husband, but then Swarthi rushed out. He rushed back with the bowl.
His own family thought it looked like a dirty bowl to be eating anything out of. Until all the fabulous dishes started coming out.
A closely guarded secret
From that day on, every night was a feast! All the neighbors, and even the entire village was invited. The doctors and dentists in particular were very grateful to Swathi for driving up their businesses.
Swarthi was always vigilant. There was no way he was letting anyone get their hands on the Bowl. Everyone wanted it. They asked him hundreds of questions hundreds of times but he kept his lips sealed. He was also very careful when fetching the bowl from its hiding place and stashing it again. He even had to hire a security company to guard some random tree hollows here and there. Just as misdirection.
Secret’s out
Everything was okay. Until one day it was not. And that was the day Swarthi tried alcohol. It was suggested by a friend of Swarthi’s. He speculated that since the bowl made perfectly delicious Orange Juice and Lassi, it must also be capable of making Alcohol. Swarthi had never tried alcohol before. He didn’t know the effect it might have on himself.
Several drinks later, Swarthi was hopelessly drunk. He generally made a fool of himself, acting wild, dancing with a pitcher balanced on his nose. Which didn’t end well when the pitcher crashed to the floor. He didn’t give up though. He decided he would balance something else. On his head this time. How about the Bowl? That would look perfect. Now someone would have to capture this and post it all over social media.
But it didn’t quite happen that way. Not because Social Media didn’t exist. That too. But before Swarthi could even pose with the Bowl on his head, it slipped. And crashed to the floor and broke into a thousand pieces.
All’s well that ends well…but not for Swarthi
Swarthi was horrified and suddenly sober. He tried picking up the pieces but nothing happened. The pieces slowly faded away. And nothing remained. No more food for anyone.
Which was a good thing, because the villagers and in particular Swarthi and his family learned that the way to survive was to earn money from hard work first.
The Apsaras were happy too. Breaking the Bowl had magically caused the pieces to disappear and to materialize intact again in their own home. That was good, they had grown tired of gathering their own food. As beautiful creatures from heaven, they felt they should be exempt from hard work.
That’s all for now
Some notes on the show
Unlike in most other stories that feature a woodcutter, Swarthi is not a hero. His selfishness led to a lot of problems for his family. And when they had finally overcome his absence and had started doing well on their own, he returned to them again. It was a conscious choice, and along the way, he cared not for the welfare of the Apsaras. He deprived them of their greatest treasure, though he wasn’t being held back or anything.
And when he returned to his family, his children grew used to a life of comfort again instead. His presence and the endless supply of food made them lazy again. Having to switch from a life of comfort to a life of hard work must have been just as hard the second time. The only silver lining was that they could make him cut more wood. He had several years’ time to make up for.
In keeping with tradition of this show, the characters are named for the roles they plan. The word Swarthi means selfish. Swadheen means independent, though it’s not until her husband disappears that Swadheen truly becomes independent.
There are variants of this story in Madhya Pradesh, Uttar Pradesh and even Bengal.
The Magic Bowl is not unlike one we have seen before. This was a Madhya Pradesh folk tale back in Episode 23 – Magical Tweetment.
That’s all for now.
Next Time
In the next episode, we’ll cover the story of the King of Vijayanagar. Krishnadevaraya might be famous as the King for whom Tenali Raman worked. But he was rather a legend in his own right. And none of that might have been possible if his life hadn’t been spared, Snow White-style earlier on in his life.