Short Story
The Legend of Ka Lidhaka*
In the nascent stage of its history, Ri Pnar, or the Jaintia Hills as it is known today, was only a disorganized cluster of villages without a syiem (1) or hima(2). Each village kept to itself under its own administrators -- elders and headmen -- and consulted each other only in matters of trade. At that time there lived, in a hamlet called Umwi, a certain farmer known as Woh Ryndih, a man alone, spending most of his time toiling in his field from morning till night. Like all other men in the hamlet, however, he was very fond of hunting and fishing and often indulged himself in these pastimes whenever the opportunity presented itself. One autumn morning, when the sky was blue and the sun was brilliant, Woh Ryndih took up his fishing rod and went striding off in the direction of a nearby river called Waikhyrwi. At the river he took his position by the side of a large pool and settled down for a patient day-long stint. Very soon he could feel something nibbling at the bait and tugging at the line. He took the strain and pulled. Dangling at the end of the hook was a sizeable fish. This he caught with one hand, while with the other he plucked a reed-like plant, inserted it between the fish's gill and mouth to hang the fish on the low branch of a nearby tree and went back to fishing. But strangely, although he angled till the sun sank down below the western hills, he did not catch another fish. When night came, Woh Ryndih returned to his hut with his fish, washed himself, made up the fire and cooked his meal. Then he took out the fish, put it inside a bamboo basket and left it dangling above the hearth to dry, meaning to boil it in the morning. But when morning came, he forgot all about the fish in his hurry to prepare for his day's work, and gathering his tools about him, left for his field without a backward glance. When he came back in the evening, he was in for a big surprise. As son as he opened the door, the warmth of the room embraced him like a comforting companion. He could see the fire burning at the hearth. The room was neat and clean, as if it had been swept recently, and when he looked at his pots, his food had already been cooked. He began to experience an eerie sensation of an unknown woman's presence in the house. But he brushed this foolish thought aside and guessed it must have been one of his nieces who had come to keep house for him during the day. Thus thinking, he ate his food, which was exceptionally delicious that night, and went to sleep. But the following day the same story repeated itself. Curious, he went to his sister's place to inquire if she had sent one of her daughters to his house that day and the previous one. The answer was no, she had not sent anyone to his house. That got him worried. Who was it, then, who had been keeping house for a lonely man like him? He could not think of any friend who would do something as inexplicable as visit his hut and do the domestic chores for him while he was away. No, he said to himself, this will not do. I must find out, by any means, just exactly who has been at my place. Thinking about it, he suddenly hit upon a plan and, comforted by it, retired to bed. The next morning Woh Ryndih got ready for work and went to his field as usual. But once out of sight of his house he doubled back by another route and proceeded untl he reached the back of his hut, where he settled down to wait and watch through a hole in the wall. He had a long wait, but finally, towards cooking time in the afternoon, he saw, to his utter amazement, a stunningly beautiful woman emerging from the fish in the basket. He watched her ofr some time, gazing with wide-eyed wonder at the unusual fairness of her skin, the brilliance in her eyes and the midnight blackness of her hair which cascaded down to her hells. He knew, of course, who she was. She could only be one of those fairies called puri, and from the loveliness of her face and the snowy whiteness of her jainsem (3) and her clothes, he guessed that she was a godly fairy or puriblei, and decided that there was nothing to fear from her. Even as he watched, he saw her sweep the floor, build up the fire in the hearth, clean the pots and prepare to cook the evening meal. But at this point his patience ran out and he hastened into the house to confront her. As soon as the creature saw him and realized that she had been outwitted, she dashed towards the fish, meaning to shelter in its scaly skin once again. But, surmising rightly what she was about to do, Woh Ryndih jumped forward, snatched the fish from her grasp and threw it in the fire. Seeing her only means of escape destroyed, the strange maiden submitted herself to his powerful arms and answered his eager questions. "Who are you? Where did you come from? And what do you want here?" he asked her. "I am the daughter of a river nymph," she said simply. "I took a fancy to you as you sat fishing in the river alone, and I have come to be your wife." Hearing this frank admission, Woh Ryndih stared at her, speechless. Presently, his face broke into a smile and he promised to return her love in full measure by marrying her as soon as he had introduced her to his relations. But first she had to have a name. After briefly ruminating on the strange manner of his acquaintance with her, he decided to call her Ka Lidakha, or the 'one who came from a fish.' After the introductions with the relatives were over and all the formalities had been completed, Woh Ryndih married Ka Lidakha. Soon, they had two daughters whom he name Ka Rytong and Ka Rnga. By and by, the two girls, being daughters of a nymph, grew up into a pair of exceptionally beautiful young women, who were constantly courted by the bravest and most handsome young men of the land. Consequently, when the time of their marriage came, the two had a very select band of admirers to choose from and naturally picked the best grooms in the field. Having seen her daughters satisfactorily married off, Ka Lidakha determined to return to her pool. One day, while the family was sitting together, gathered round the hearth, she dropped her plan into their midst like a thunderbolt and said, "My husband, dear daughters, it is time for me to return home. I can hear my mother and the others calling me back. From now on you must learn to live without me." Stunned into silence, everyone could only gape at her in sheer disbelief. At length Woh Ryndih roused himself and said, "Dearest wife, what foolishness is this? What are you saying? Surely you cannot mean what you said?" When she affirmed that she did mean what she said, the daughters joined in the general protest and said, "Our beloved mother, how can you leave us as orphans? Surely, you love us more than that! Forget this silly notion, stay on and let us be happy together." But despite many such earnest entreaties, and although they cried and pleaded with her for days, Ka Lidakha could not be persuaded to change her mind, for she argues that it was against the very nature of her being to stay indefinitely in the land of mortals. When Ka Lidakha had gone back to her magic realm, Woh Ryndih tried to lead a normal life once more. But hound that impossible. For him it was as if the sun suddenly set for ever. He lost all zest for life and began to pine away till one day, finding the weight of sadness unbearable, and the longing in his heart unquenchable, he visited the pool with his fishing rod once again, in a desperate attempt to win back his love. Win back his love he did, but in a manner quite contrary to all his expectations. As he sat by the pool, toying with his rod, suddenly, a big fish took his bait and pulled him headlong into the murky waters. *From Around the Hearth: Khasi Legends reviewed below. 1. King. 2. State. 3. Khasi outer garment comprising two long cloths of cotton, silk, etc., draped over the shoulders.
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