The Magic Fiddle: A Tale of Transformation and Forgiveness
The Magic Fiddle: A Tale of Transformation and Forgiveness
Adapted from Indian Fairy Tales by Joseph Jacobs
The Jealous Sisters-in-Law
In a small village nestled among green hills, seven brothers lived together with their sister. Though all the brothers were married, their wives did not handle the cooking for the family. Instead, their sister stayed home and prepared all the meals, managed the household, and cared for everyone’s needs.
This arrangement bred resentment among the wives, who grew increasingly jealous of their sister-in-law. They whispered among themselves, “Why should she remain comfortably at home while we labor in the fields? And yet the meals are never ready at the proper time.”
Their jealousy festered until they devised a plan to remove her from her position. They secretly called upon a Bonga—a powerful forest spirit—and after making sacred vows to gain his assistance, they presented their request.
“When our sister-in-law goes to fetch water at midday,” they told the Bonga, “make the water vanish when she dips her pitcher, then slowly reappear. This will delay her, and she will be unable to prepare the meals on time. In return for your help, you may keep the maiden for yourself.”
The Bonga, pleased with this offering, agreed to their scheme.
The Drowning
The following day at noon, the sister went as usual to collect water from the nearby tank. As she approached with her pitcher, the water suddenly receded before her eyes. Confused and frightened, she began to weep.
After some time, the water slowly began to rise again. When it reached her ankles, she attempted to fill her pitcher, but strangely, it would not go beneath the surface. Growing more frightened, she called out to her brothers:
“Oh! my brother, the water reaches to my ankles,
Still, Oh! my brother, the pitcher will not dip.”
The water continued to rise until it reached her knees, and again she cried:
“Oh! my brother, the water reaches to my knees,
Still, Oh! my brother, the pitcher will not dip.”
The mysterious water kept rising, reaching her waist, then her neck, as she continued calling for help. Finally, as the water rose above her head and she felt herself drowning, she cried one last time:
“Oh! my brother, the water measures a man’s height,
Oh! my brother, the pitcher begins to fill.”
As the pitcher filled with water, she sank beneath the surface and drowned. The Bonga, fulfilling his part of the bargain, transformed her into a spirit like himself and carried her away.
The Bamboo’s Rebirth
Time passed, and on the embankment of the tank where the sister had drowned, a bamboo plant began to grow. This was no ordinary bamboo—it was the sister, transformed once again. The plant flourished, growing to an impressive size that caught the attention of a wandering Jogi—a holy man—who often passed by that way.
“This bamboo would make a splendid fiddle,” the Jogi thought one day, and returned with an axe to cut it down.
As he prepared to strike, the bamboo spoke: “Do not cut at the root, cut higher up.”
Startled, the Jogi raised his axe to cut higher on the stem, but the bamboo called out again, “Do not cut near the top, cut at the root.”
When he positioned his axe at the root as instructed, the bamboo contradicted itself: “Do not cut at the root, cut higher up.”
This continued until the Jogi, convinced that a mischievous spirit was trying to frighten him, grew angry. He cut down the bamboo at the root, took it home, and crafted it into a fiddle.
The Magical Instrument
The fiddle produced music of extraordinary beauty. Its tones were so enchanting that all who heard it were moved deeply. The Jogi carried it with him on his begging rounds, and through the power of its sweet music, he returned home each evening with his wallet full of offerings.
During his travels, the Jogi occasionally visited the house of the drowned sister’s brothers. When he played his fiddle there, the brothers were strangely affected by its music. Some were even moved to tears, for the instrument seemed to wail with human anguish. The eldest brother offered to support the Jogi for an entire year if he would sell the fiddle, but the holy man refused, knowing its true value.
The Stolen Fiddle
One day, the Jogi visited the house of a village chief and played a few melodies on his fiddle before asking for food. The chief and his household were captivated by the instrument and offered to buy it at a high price, but the Jogi declined, explaining that the fiddle was his livelihood.
Seeing that he could not be persuaded, they provided him with food and plentiful liquor. The Jogi drank so much that he became intoxicated, and while he was in this state, they stole his magical fiddle and replaced it with an ordinary one.
When the Jogi recovered his senses, he discovered the theft and demanded the return of his instrument. The household denied taking it, forcing him to leave without his precious fiddle.
The chief’s son, who was musically inclined, began playing the stolen fiddle. In his hands, the instrument produced music that delighted everyone who heard it.
The Mysterious Cook
A strange thing began to happen in the chief’s household. When everyone was away working in the fields, the Bonga girl would emerge from the bamboo fiddle. She would prepare the family’s meal, eat her own portion, and place the chief’s son’s share under his bed, carefully covered to keep off dust. Then she would return to the fiddle.
This occurred day after day. The family members assumed that one of the young man’s female friends was showing her affection by preparing his meals, so they paid little attention to the mystery.
The chief’s son, however, grew curious and somewhat embarrassed by this secret attention. “I will catch her today,” he decided, “and give her a sound scolding for causing me embarrassment before the others.”
He hid himself in a corner behind a pile of firewood and waited. Soon, the girl emerged from the bamboo fiddle and began to arrange her hair. After completing her toilette, she cooked the rice meal as usual, ate some herself, and placed the young man’s portion under his bed.
As she prepared to re-enter the fiddle, the chief’s son rushed from his hiding place and caught her in his arms.
The Reunion
“Fie! Fie!” exclaimed the Bonga girl. “You may be of a low caste with whom I cannot marry.”
“No,” he replied gently. “From today, you and I are one.”
They began to converse lovingly with each other. When the rest of the household returned that evening, they were astonished to discover that she was both human and Bonga. Nevertheless, they welcomed her with joy.
Time passed, and the Bonga girl’s family fell on hard times. Her brothers, seeking assistance, came to the chief’s house for a visit. The Bonga girl recognized them immediately, though they did not know who she was.
She brought them water upon their arrival and later served them a meal of cooked rice. Then, sitting near them, she began in sorrowful tones to recount the treatment she had received from their wives. She related everything that had happened to her, concluding with the gentle rebuke: “You must have known what was happening, and yet you did nothing to save me.”
This was the only revenge she took against those who had wronged her.
This tale reminds us that transformation can come from the most painful experiences, and that sometimes the most powerful response to cruelty is not vengeance, but truth. The magic fiddle represents the voice that cannot be silenced, even when its physical form is changed.
