THE FOLK STORY( from a russian fairy tale)

After repeated entreaties did Bholu’s mother decide to tell him a story. She pleaded excuse saying that it was already very late and she had to get up early tomorrow and even he had school. But Bholu was not at all enthusiastic about school. His father had recently shifted to this village and naturally Bholu did not have any friends. He was a very shy and couldn’t make friends easily. His mother understood his lonely state and could feel that he was missing his old friends and village. So she at last gave in. taking bholu in her lap she began a folk tale. She had earlier told him many stories. Some she had herself made up and some she had heard from her mother. But once story she had never told him. It was a deeply engrossing tale that had kept her in an illusion for many days together. Looking down at her son’s forlorn face she decided it was time he was told this intriguing tale that would keep him in a world of fantasy until he made friends. As Bholu snuggled in comfortably in her mother’s lap she began the story.
‘Once upon a time the king of a distant land had a beautiful daughter. Her loveliness was praised far and wide. This had made her arrogant. She was so proud of her flawless looks that she thought she could be rude to everybody without any rebuke. She would behave rudely with her father, mother, the ministers, and the helping hands of the palace and yet everybody would go into raptures over her exquisiteness.
One day a saint came to visit the king. He was greatly learned and had many other good qualities. But there was a great flaw in his character. He had an ungovernable temper. However, he was kindly received by the king and was given chambers in the guest quarter. One fine morning when the princess was strolling in the garden she saw a stranger kneeling in prayer in the guest chambers, which was very much visible from the garden. The princess did not know of the existence of the saint. So she went up to him boldly and rudely asked him to leave the palace right away. The saint, disturbed in his prayer instantly lost his temper and cursed the princess. He turned the princess into a frog and told her that she would forever remain like a frog. When the king heard of this mishap he fell to his knees and asked for forgiveness on behalf of his daughter. The saint was reminded of the king’s generosity and he changed his curse. He said that she would be able to retain her own body every night and would be able to get back her own body permanently if her frog skin was burnt by somebody who was unaware of the curse.
Since then on the princess was trapped in the body of the frog all day. The news of the curse on her had spread far and wide. Many people tried to burn the frog skin at nighttime but could not. The princess, ashamed of her condition left her kingdom and travelled to far lands where she could find somebody who, unaware of her plight would be able to give her freedom. They say she is still out there somewhere waiting to be freed of her curse.’
The next day when Bholu’s mother sent him o bring some water from the tube well he got out to go without any tantrum. What earlier was an odious task now seemed to be deeply desirable. This was so because Bholu’s house was a long way off from the tube well. The walk would give him sufficient time to think about the story he had heard last night. He didn’t remember when he fell asleep for he didn’t remember his mother putting him down on the bed. Yet he remembered each and every detail of the story. He shivered with excitement at the thought that maybe the princess was still out there waiting to be freed. He absent-mindedly reached the tube well and started filling water in his bucket. Suddenly the croak of a frog broke him out of his reverie. He hadn’t noticed the frog coming. He stared at the frog and felt thrilled to see that the frog steadily stared back. It was as if the frog was not a frog but a human being trying to send a message across with her eyes. Suddenly realizing that he was being tricked by his wayward imagination, he averted his gaze and started to fill the bucket. After he had filled it and turned. What he saw nearly made him drop the bucket. In place of the frog a girl, whose angelic face reminded him of the princess, was standing. All practical thoughts out of his mind he asked, “When did you change?” The bewildered girl stared back at him. “I thought you could change into your original self only at night.” A light of understanding flickered in the eyes of the girl and her lips twitched. Then smoothing out every emotion from her face she said in a quiet voice “I have to fill my bucket. My mother is waiting for the water. Please let me fill my bucket. The boy wordlessly shifted aside and continued to stare at her. The girl filled up the bucket and without a backward glance slowly walked away. On her way back home her face broke into a smile. The boy was much younger than her. He seemed about twelve years old. It was in that age that she had heard the story of the princess. She remembered the way she would roam about in the canals waiting for the frogs that she spotted to change into princesses. But that was four years ago. Now she was more mature and practical. The boy would be too. But until then he would enjoy his search for the lost princess.