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The Gifts of the Grasscutter (Pakistani, Asian Indian Folktales)Published as the picture book. The Gifts of Wali Dad by Atheneum, New York, 1. Australia’s School Magazine, June 2. In a mud hut far from town lived an old grasscutter 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. 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.
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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.
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He presented the bracelet to her as a gift from Wali Dad.“How lovely!” she said, admiring the bracelet. 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 grasscutter. 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. His palace, too, I often visit, just three days’ journey to the west.”“Then do me another kindness,” begged Wali Dad. On his next journey, he presented the silks to the king of Nekabad.“A splendid gift!” said the king, admiring the silks. 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.
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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. 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. 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. 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. 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. 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. 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 . And though he often thought warmly of his friends the king and queen, he was careful never to send them another gift. This is a retelling of “Story of Wali D. 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- ston. Nekabad ~ NEK- a- bod. PAY- sa (hard s). Wali Dad ~ WAH- lee DOD (rhymes with “Wally Todd”).