A man had two children and one day his wife died. So the man went looking for another wife but no woman would be burdened by the children and the man remained unmarried for some years. Then one day a new family came into the village and in this family there was a girl of marriageable age. When the man heard of the new family and the marriageable girl he went up to the house and made inquiries. Satisfied, he offered himself as a groom. He had wealth, he said, and lots of youth left in him. He would take care of the girl and the girl would take care of the children.
Show me the children, the girl said, and the man brought his children with him during his next visit. When the girl looked at the children she fell in love with them. They were good children, shy and calm. They had beautiful sad eyes, like those of orphans and they tugged at her heart and so the girl married the man.
For many years the girl was mother to the sad eyed children and eventually the children left being sad. They learnt mischief, learnt songs and dances, plays in the fields. They learnt to chase after carts and birds. Eventually they forgot their birth mother and thought of the girl as their real mother. They grew up well, two handsome children.
One day the man could not sleep and stayed up beside his wife. It was a moon-filled night and the rays fell silver upon the girl. Around an hour after midnight the girl pushed aside the covers and stepped off the bed. She made her way out the room and towards the front door. She stepped off the house and disappeared. She returned only towards the early hours. She did the same the next day, then the day after.
The man was very disturbed by his wife and decided to follow her. The next night he tied a thread to the tip of her hair and held the spool in his hand. When the girl left the bed the thread began to unwind and start a white path behind her. After a good interval had passed the man followed the thread path. The thread went down the lane that crossed the fields and followed the river. It stopped by a large peeple tree and climbed its barks. The man was puzzled. What could this mean? Why had the thread climbed the tree? He looked up to see and sure enough there was his wife, up on the tree, sitting on its branches, enjoying the wind and the stars. The man hid himself behind some bushes and when he saw his wife readying to leave he rushed back home. For a month after that he followed her every night and every night the girl climbed the tree and sat on its branches. Her feet dangled under her saree. Some nights she opened her hair and her hair fell like a waterfall upon her back.
The girl was beautiful and the man was severely in love with her but despite all this he was tormented. What could this mean? What could this mean? Finally he began to talk about his wife with others. He told his friends, his sisters-in-law, his brothers. Word spread. Ah, said the people, she must be having an affair. But after many nights of watching the tree it was clear there was no affair. She must be mad, said others, but all day the girl worked with such surety and skill that insanity had to be ruled out. Then someone said she must be a witch. Think of it, said someone, we cannot understand anything she does. Why did she marry this man, someone so much older than her? Why did she choose not to have her own children and raise somebody else’s? Why do these children love her so? Why does she look more beautiful at night than in the morning? Why does she sit on a tree?
Nobody could answer.
The man thought hard about it and decided it was time to let the children know.
She does not love you, he said. She is a witch.
That is not true, cried the children. She loves us. She feeds us sweets, stitches our clothes, gives us baths, sends us to school, strokes our hair till we fall asleep, and sings in our sleep so we dream sweet. She loves us.
Does she? said the man. Come with me and I will show you. So he took the children along the next night and showed them the girl. She was upon the branches, light as a bird, her hair blowing in the wind, her skin without wrinkles. Now, said the man, is that a woman or a witch? The children stared. They had never seen their mother so lovely. She is a witch, they said, and returned home with their father.
The next night the man, the children, the friends, sisters, brothers, surprised the wife by springing out of the bushes. When the wife fell off the branch they gave her a good thrashing. The wife stared at her husband and said nothing, but when she saw her children she began to weep. Save me, save me, she cried. But the children, who had never seen their mother look so beautiful, would not step forwards. They looked away and stared at a distance. They pushed their fingers into their ears so they would not hear her scream. Then the villagers carried her to the river. The children stared at the distance. They kept their fingers in their ears and did not hear their mother thrashing under the water, nor did they hear the silence when it came.
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