In a mud hut far from town lived an old grass-cutter
named Wali Dad.
Every morning, Wali Dad cut and bundled tall, wild
grass. Every afternoon, he sold it as fodder in the marketplace.
Each day, he earned thirty paisa. Ten of the small
coins went for food. Ten went for clothes and other needs. And ten he
saved in a clay pot under his bed.
In this manner Wali Dad lived happily for many
years.
One evening, Wali Dad dragged out the pot to see how
much money it held. He was amazed to find that his coins had filled it
to the brim.
“What am I to do with all this money?” he said to
himself. “I need nothing more than I have.”
Wali Dad thought and thought. At last he had an
idea.
The next day, Wali Dad loaded the money into a sack
and carried it to a jeweler in the marketplace. He exchanged all his
coins for a lovely gold bracelet.
Then Wali Dad visited the home of a traveling
merchant.
“Tell me,” said Wali Dad, “in all the world, who is
the noblest lady?”
“Without doubt,” said the merchant, “it is the young
queen of Khaistan. I often visit her palace, just three days’ journey
to the east.”
“Do me a kindness,” said Wali Dad. “The next time
you pass that way, give her this little bracelet, with my compliments.”
The merchant was astonished, but he agreed to do
what the ragged grass-cutter asked.
Soon after, the merchant found himself at the palace
of the queen of Khaistan. He presented the bracelet to her as a gift
from Wali Dad.
“How lovely!” she said, admiring the bracelet. “Your
friend must accept a gift in return. My servants will load a camel with
the finest silks.”
When the merchant arrived back home, he brought the
silks to the hut of Wali Dad.
“Oh, no!” said the grass-cutter. “This is worse than
before! What am I to do with such finery?”
“Perhaps,” said the merchant, “you could give it to
someone else.”
Wali Dad thought for a moment. “Tell me,” he said,
“in all the world, who is the noblest man?”
“That is simple,” said the merchant. “It is the
young king of Nekabad. His palace, too, I often visit, just three days’
journey to the west.”
“Then do me another kindness,” begged Wali Dad. “On
your next trip there, give him these silks, with my compliments.”
The merchant was amused, but he agreed. On his next
journey, he presented the silks to the king of Nekabad.
“A splendid gift!” said the king, admiring the
silks. “In return, your friend must have twelve of my finest horses.”
So the merchant brought the king’s horses to Wali
Dad.
“This grows worse and worse!” declared the old man.
“What could I do with twelve horses?”
But after a moment Wali Dad said, “I know who should
have such a gift. I beg you, keep two horses for yourself, and take the
rest to the queen of Khaistan!”
The merchant thought this was very funny, but he
consented. On his next visit to the queen’s palace, he gave her the
horses.
Now the queen was perplexed. She whispered to her
prime minister, “Why does this Wali Dad persist in sending gifts? I have
never even heard of him!”
The prime minister said, “Why don’t you discourage
him? Send him a gift so rich, he can never hope to match it.”
So in return for the ten horses from Wali Dad, the
queen sent back twenty mules loaded with silver.
When the merchant and mules arrived back at the hut,
Wali Dad groaned. “What have I done to deserve this? Friend, spare an
old man! Keep two mules and their silver for yourself, and take the rest
to the king of Nekabad!”
The merchant was getting uneasy, but he could not
refuse such a generous offer. So not long after, he found himself
presenting the silver-laden mules to the king of Nekabad.
The king, too, was perplexed and asked his prime
minister for advice.
“Perhaps this Wali Dad seeks to prove himself your
better,” said the prime minister. “Why not send him a gift he can never
surpass?”
So the king sent back twenty camels with golden
anklets, twenty horses with golden bridles and stirrups, twenty
elephants with golden seats mounted on their backs, and twenty liveried
servants to care for them all.
When the merchant guided the servants and animals to
Wali Dad’s hut, the grass-cutter was beside himself. “Will bad fortune
never end? Please, do not stop for a minute! Keep for yourself two of
each animal, and take the rest to the queen of Khaistan!”
“How can I go to her again?” protested the merchant.
But Wali Dad pleaded so hard, the merchant consented to go just once
more.
This time, the queen was stunned by the magnificence
of Wali Dad’s gift. She turned again to her prime minister.
“Clearly,” said the prime minister, “the man wishes
to marry you. Since his gifts are so fine, perhaps you should meet him!”
So the queen ordered a great caravan made ready,
with countless horses, camels, and elephants. With the trembling
merchant as guide, she and her court set out to visit the great Wali
Dad.
On the third day, the caravan made camp, and the
queen sent the merchant ahead to tell Wali Dad of her coming.
When Wali Dad heard the merchant’s news, his head
sank to his hands. “Oh, no!” he moaned. “Now I will be paid for all my
foolishness. I have brought shame on myself, on you, and on the queen.
What are we to do?”
“I fear we can do nothing!” said the merchant, and
he headed back to the caravan.
The next morning, Wali Dad rose before dawn.
“Good-bye, old hut,” he said. “I will never see you again.”
The old grass-cutter started down the road. But he
had not gone far when he heard a voice.
“Where are you going, Wali Dad?”
He turned and saw two radiant ladies. He knew at
once they were peris from Paradise.
Wali Dad sank to his knees and cried, “I am a stupid
old man. Let me go my way. I cannot face my shame!”
“No shame can come to such as you,” said one of the
peris. “Though your clothes are poor, in your heart you are a king.”
The peri touched him on the shoulder. To his
amazement, he saw his rags turn to fine clothes. A jeweled turban sat on
his head. The rusty sickle at his waist was now a gleaming scimitar.
“Return, Wali Dad,” said the other peri. “All is as
it should be.”
Wali Dad looked behind him. Where his hut had stood,
a splendid palace sparkled in the rising sun. In shock, he turned to
the peris, but they had vanished.
Wali Dad hurried back along the road. As he entered
the palace, the guards gave a salute. Servants bowed to him, then rushed
here and there, preparing for the visitors.
Wali Dad wandered through countless rooms, gaping at
riches beyond his imagining. Suddenly, three servants ran up.
“A caravan from the east!” announced the first.
“No,” said the second, “a caravan from the west!”
“No,” said the third, “caravans from both east and
west!”
The bewildered Wali Dad rushed outside to see two
caravans halt before the palace. Coming from the east was a queen in a
jeweled litter. Coming from the west was a king on a fine horse.
Wali Dad hurried to the queen.
“My dear Wali Dad, we meet at last,” said the queen
of Khaistan. “But who is that magnificent king?”
“I believe it is the king of Nekabad, Your Majesty,”
said Wali Dad. “Please excuse me for a moment.”
He rushed over to the king.
“My dear Wali Dad, I had to meet the giver of such
fine gifts,” said the king of Nekabad. “But who is that splendid queen?”
“The queen of Khaistan, Your Majesty,” said Wali Dad
with a smile. “Please come and meet her.”
And so the king of Nekabad met the queen of
Khaistan, and the two fell instantly in love. A few days later their
marriage took place in the palace of Wali Dad. And the celebration went
on for many days.
At last Wali Dad had said good-bye to all his
guests. The very next morning, he rose before dawn, crept quietly from
the palace, and started down the road.
But he had not gone far when he heard a voice.
“Where are you going, Wali Dad?”
He turned and saw the two peris. Again he sank to
his knees.
“Did I not tell you I am a stupid old man? I should
be glad for what I have received, but . . . .”
“Say no more,” said the other peri. “You shall have
your heart’s desire.” And she touched him again.
So Wali Dad became once more a grass-cutter, living
happily in his hut for the rest of his days. And though he often thought
warmly of his friends the king and queen, he was careful never to send
them another gift.
About the Story
This is a retelling of “Story of Wali Dâd the
Simple-hearted,” found in Andrew Lang’s Brown Fairy Book (1904).
The tale was given to Lang by a Major Campbell—a British army officer
stationed in India’s Punjab—who heard it from “an Indian.” Since the
Punjab was later split between India and Pakistan, I have thought it
best to attribute the tale to both countries. The dominant influences of
the story are Islamic and Zoroastrian rather than Hindu.
The paisa is the smallest Indian coin. Peris
are an import from Persian mythology. Originally considered evil,
their image changed gradually to benevolent beings akin to fairies or
angels. It is said they feed only on the odor of perfume.
How to Say the Names
Khaistan ~ KI-stonNekabad ~ NEK-a-bod
paisa ~ PAY-sa (hard s)
Peri ~ PEH-ree
Wali Dad ~ WAH-lee DOD (rhymes with “Wally Todd”)
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