The Khasi Sky Maiden – A Tale from Northeast India

In the lush green hills of Meghalaya, where clouds embrace the mountains and waterfalls cascade down verdant slopes, there once existed a direct connection between the earth and the sky. In those ancient days, heaven and earth were linked by a magnificent golden vine that grew from the peak of the sacred Lum Sohpetbneng mountain.

The Khasi people who lived in these hills were simple farmers who tilled the fertile soil and lived in harmony with nature. Among them was a young man named Bor, known throughout the village for his kind heart and honest nature. Each morning, Bor would climb halfway up the mountain to tend his small plot of land, where he grew vegetables and herbs that thrived in the misty climate.

One day, as Bor was working his field, he heard the most beautiful melody drifting down from above. The song was unlike anything he had ever heard – sweet and ethereal, as if woven from the very essence of the clouds. Curious, he followed the sound higher up the mountain until he reached the golden vine that connected earth to sky.

To his astonishment, Bor saw seven maidens descending the vine. Their skin glowed with an inner light, and their long hair flowed like dark waterfalls down their backs. They wore garments that shimmered with the colors of the rainbow, and delicate wings like those of dragonflies sprouted from their shoulders. These were the daughters of the Sky King, who had come down to earth to bathe in the crystal-clear pool at the base of the great waterfall.

Bor hid behind a large boulder and watched in wonder as the maidens reached the earth and made their way to the pool. They removed their wings, placing them carefully on the rocks beside the water, and dove into the clear waters with joyful laughter.

“They must be the Sky People from our ancient stories,” Bor whispered to himself, remembering the tales his grandmother had told him of beings who lived above the clouds.

As the maidens swam and played in the pool, Bor found his gaze drawn to the youngest among them. Her laughter rang like silver bells, and her movements were as graceful as the swaying bamboo. Without fully understanding why, Bor felt his heart fill with a longing he had never known before.

An idea suddenly took hold of him. Moving as quietly as a hunting tiger, he crept from his hiding place and took the wings that belonged to the youngest maiden. Then, just as silently, he returned to his hiding place with his treasure.

When the sky maidens finished their swim and returned to the shore, they began to don their wings once more. But the youngest maiden could not find hers.

“Sisters!” she cried in distress. “My wings are gone! I cannot find them!”

The other maidens searched frantically, but the wings were nowhere to be found. As the sun began to set, the eldest sister spoke with regret in her voice.

“Lieng, we cannot stay longer. Father will be worried, and the path will close with nightfall. We must return now.”

“But how can I return without my wings?” Lieng asked, tears forming in her eyes.

“We will tell Father what has happened,” another sister assured her. “He will know what to do. Wait here, and we will send help.”

With heavy hearts, the six maidens climbed back up the golden vine and disappeared into the clouds, leaving their youngest sister behind.

As darkness fell, Lieng sat by the pool, her tears falling like gentle rain. It was then that Bor emerged from his hiding place.

“Do not cry, Sky Maiden,” he said softly. “I mean you no harm.”

Startled, Lieng looked up. “Who are you? Do you know what happened to my wings?”

Bor nodded, guilt washing over him as he saw her distress. “I took them,” he admitted. “And I am sorry for causing you pain. But since the moment I saw you, my heart has known no peace. I am Bor, a farmer of the Khasi people, and I ask you to stay and become my wife.”

Lieng’s eyes flashed with anger. “You would keep me here against my will? Return my wings at once!”

“I will return them,” Bor promised, “but first, please, stay for just seven days. Get to know me and my people. If after that time you still wish to leave, I will give you back your wings without question.”

Lieng considered his words. She was stranded until her father sent help anyway, and the young man before her had honest eyes despite his misdeed. “Seven days,” she agreed reluctantly. “Not a day more.”

Bor took Lieng to his village, where he lived with his widowed mother in a simple but comfortable home built of wood and thatch. The old woman welcomed the sky maiden with open arms, asking no questions about her strange clothes or luminous skin.

In the days that followed, Bor showed Lieng the beauty of the earth. He took her to fields of wildflowers that carpeted the hillsides, to forests where rare orchids bloomed in the shadows of ancient trees, and to viewpoints where they could see the plains of Bangladesh stretching out far below their mountain home.

Lieng, in turn, shared stories of her sky kingdom – of palaces built from clouds, of gardens where stars grew like flowers, and of the great hall where her father, the Sky King, held court with the sun and moon as his counselors.

As the days passed, Lieng found herself increasingly drawn to the earthly life. She learned to cook with the fragrant herbs that grew wild on the mountainside, to weave baskets from bamboo strips, and to plant seeds in the rich soil of Bor’s field. The simple joys of human existence – the taste of fresh fruit, the warmth of a cooking fire, the solidarity of the village community – began to work their magic on her heart.

Bor, seeing her interest, taught her everything he could about his world. He showed her how to identify medicinal plants, how to predict weather by watching the behavior of birds, and how to harvest honey from the wild bees that made their hives in hollow trees.

By the sixth day, Lieng realized that her feelings for Bor had transformed from resentment to affection. His kindness, wisdom, and gentle spirit had won her over, and the thought of returning to the sky no longer filled her with the same urgency.

That evening, as they sat together on a cliff overlooking the valley, Bor spoke. “Tomorrow is the seventh day,” he said quietly. “As promised, I will return your wings if that is still your wish.”

Lieng looked at him, seeing the love in his eyes and feeling the same emotion blossoming in her own heart. “I have been thinking,” she said slowly. “Perhaps I could stay a little longer.”

Joy spread across Bor’s face, but he shook his head. “I cannot keep you here based on a promise made under duress. If you stay, it must be your free choice.” From his bag, he withdrew her wings, which he had kept carefully wrapped in soft cloth. “These are yours, regardless of what you decide.”

Touched by his honesty and respect, Lieng made her decision. “I choose to stay,” she said, taking the wings and placing them beside her. “Not because I must, but because I wish to.”

Their marriage was celebrated with great festivity throughout the village. The union of an earth man and a sky maiden was unprecedented, and many believed it would bring blessings to the land. Lieng kept her wings stored safely in a special box, a reminder of her heritage but no longer her means of escape.

As the seasons changed, Lieng and Bor lived happily together. They worked the land, their crops flourishing under Lieng’s touch, for she brought with her the sky’s knowledge of rain and sunlight. In time, they were blessed with a son who had his father’s kind eyes and his mother’s luminous skin.

Yet as the years passed, Lieng sometimes found herself gazing up at the clouds, a wistful expression on her face. Though she loved her earthly family deeply, she missed her father and sisters and the kingdom above the clouds.

Bor noticed her longing and felt a pang of guilt for having separated her from her family. One evening, after their son had fallen asleep, he approached her with a suggestion.

“Why don’t we visit your home in the sky?” he proposed. “Surely your wings could carry both you and our son. I will wait here for your return.”

Lieng’s face lit up at the thought, but then dimmed again. “The golden vine that connected our worlds was severed long ago,” she explained. “After my sisters returned without me, my father was so distraught that he cut the vine to prevent his other daughters from venturing to earth. There is no way for us to reach the sky kingdom now.”

This news saddened Bor, but he was determined to find a solution. “There must be a way,” he insisted. “Let us ask the village elders. Perhaps they know of ancient paths that have been forgotten.”

The oldest woman in the village, a wise healer named Ka Mei, listened to their story with great interest. “There is a legend,” she said thoughtfully, “of a sacred tree that grows at the very center of our land. Its branches are said to reach higher than any mountain, perhaps high enough to touch the realm of the sky.”

Guided by Ka Mei’s instructions, Bor, Lieng, and their young son set out on a journey to find this legendary tree. They traveled for many days, crossing rivers and valleys, until they reached the heart of Meghalaya where, true to the legend, stood a tree of immense proportions. Its trunk was wider than ten men standing with arms outstretched, and its uppermost branches disappeared into the clouds.

“This must be it,” Lieng whispered in awe. “I can feel the connection to my home.”

With renewed hope, Lieng retrieved her wings from their box. Though years had passed, they remained as beautiful and powerful as ever. She secured their son tightly to her with a woven sash and prepared for flight.

“I will return in seven days,” she promised Bor, echoing the agreement they had made so long ago.

“I will be waiting,” he replied, his heart heavy with both joy for her and fear that she might not return.

With a final embrace, Lieng spread her wings and, carrying their son, began to climb the massive tree. Higher and higher she went until she disappeared into the clouds above. Bor settled at the base of the tree to wait, his faith in her promise giving him strength.

In the sky kingdom, Lieng’s return with her half-human child caused a sensation. The Sky King, overjoyed to see his daughter again after so many years, welcomed her with open arms. Her sisters surrounded her, marveling at the nephew they had never known existed.

For seven days, Lieng shared stories of her life on earth – its beauties and hardships, its seasons and celebrations. She spoke of Bor with such love that even her father, who had been angry about her capture, began to soften toward the human who had won his daughter’s heart.

On the seventh day, true to her word, Lieng prepared to return to earth. But before she left, the Sky King made a decision.

“Daughter,” he said, “your happiness means more to me than my own wishes. I see now that your life is bound to both sky and earth.” From his robe, he produced a handful of seeds that glowed with an inner light. “Take these. Plant them around your home on earth. They will grow into trees that will serve as bridges between our worlds, allowing you and your family to visit whenever you wish.”

With gratitude in her heart, Lieng returned to earth where Bor waited faithfully. Their reunion was joyous, and together they planted the sky seeds around their village. From these seeds grew trees with silvery leaves that seemed to capture the very essence of moonlight. Their trunks grew straight and true, reaching toward the heavens, creating permanent pathways between earth and sky.

In the years that followed, Lieng and Bor’s family flourished. Their children and grandchildren inherited the ability to travel between the two realms, serving as messengers and peacemakers. The Khasi people became known as the “children of the two worlds,” their customs and traditions reflecting both earthly wisdom and celestial knowledge.

And that is why, to this day, the Khasi people of Meghalaya revere certain sacred groves of trees and believe that their ancestors can travel between earth and heaven. On misty mornings, when clouds embrace the mountains, the elders say that the veil between worlds grows thin, and if you listen carefully, you might hear the songs of the sky maidens as they visit their earthly relatives.

Adapted from “The Khasi Sky Maiden,” a traditional folktale of the Khasi tribe of Meghalaya in Northeast India, documented in “Myths and Legends from Northeast India.” This creation myth explains the Khasi people’s belief in their divine origin and connection to the heavens, and has been passed down through generations of oral storytelling.