The Boy, The Witch, and The Gulgula Tree: A Folktale from Rajasthan

A boy who likes to eat gulgulas plants a gulgula tree. But then he meets a witch who wants to eat him! Read this incredible folktale from Rajasthan to know what happens next

The Boy, The Witch, and The Gulgula Tree. Illustrated by Gowri Suresh, Visual Storyteller at ThisDay

“I was told this story by Gavri Bal. Daughter of Harjiram Bhambi. Village Borunda. Seventeen years old. She heard this story from her ma and her nani as a child,” records Bijji, the legendary storyteller of Rajasthan. He was a recipient of several awards, including the Padma Shri and the Sahitya Akademi Award.

Detha has more than 800 short stories to his credit, which have been translated into English and other languages. His literary works include Bataan ri Phulwari (Garden of Tales), a 14-volume collection of stories that draws on folklore in the spoken dialects of Rajasthan. Many of his stories and novels have been adapted for the stage and the screen, including Mani Kaul's Duvidha (1973), Habib Tanvir and Shyam Benegal's Charandas Chor (1975), Amol Palekar's Paheli (2005), and so on. Humare aaj ki kahani ka naam hai ‘The Gulgula Tree’. There was a widowed mother who had one son. Handsome. Fair. Lean. Well-built neck. And on his head, a crown of jet-black silken hair. Every day, as soon as he woke up, his mother would spit at him seven times to ward off the evil eye. She would put kajal in his eyes and black spots on his face to ward off the evil eye; she would do quite a few enchantments and rituals.

One day, the mother decided to observe a fast. The son thought that this fast must be some great thing, so even he decided to fast. He told his mother, “Ma, even I will fast.” Ma said, “Nahi, beta, you must not fast. Your soft body will wilt.” The son interrupted, “Then why do you fast? You are weaker than me.” “What of me, beta? I'm a closed book. I live by seeing your face. . . Other than you, this life has been bad. Now I want to improve my next and that’s why I fast.”

Hearing his mother, the son said that he too wanted to improve his next life. The mother spat at him to ward off the evil eye and said, “Beta, this life of yours will itself be as long as a thousand births. Why do you worry about the next?” But when he kept on insisting, she thought of something. The son was exceptionally fond of eating gulgulas. “My dear son is very well behaved,” she began. “I will make you the sweetest gulgulas. Mark my words, you'll eat your fingers with the gulgulas… You'll see!”

As soon as he heard about gulgulas, the son forgot all about the fast. He began longing for the gulgulas. The mother melted some jaggery from Malwa in a pan and prepared a thin batter. In a pan, she put a layer of linseed oil as thin as a parrot's wing and fried seven gulgulas for her son. The son felt as if he had laid his hands on Kuber’s treasure!

Jumping around in the aangan of the house, he finished off six gulgulas. He put one gulgula in his pocket and left his home. He went straight to the bank of a pond. Dug out some dirt with his hand, poured water, buried the gulgula, and began to say:

Gulgula, gulgula, re,

Make sure you grow tomorrow itself, 

Else I'll dig you up and give you to the fair cows.

The gulgula did not disobey the boy. The very next day it began growing. The boy again got more water. Again he started his chant:

Gulgula, gulgula, re, 

Grow as tall as the knees tomorrow itself, 

Else I'll pluck you and throw you to the fair cows.

And the second day, the gulgula grew as tall as his knees. Green. Rotund. Plump like a huge umbrella. The boy was delighted! He watered it again and said:

Gulgula, gulgula, re, 

Grow as tall as a bamboo tomorrow itself, 

Else I'll pluck you and throw you to the fair cows.' 

At the crack of dawn, the boy hurried to the pond. That unique gulgula tree had grown as tall as a bamboo and was swaying in the breeze. Pleasing and beautiful like a painting. He watered again. Then, catching a sprig of leaves, he said:

Gulgula, gulgula, re, 

Sprout branches from branches tomorrow itself, 

Else I'll cut you with an axe and throw you to the fair cows.

The next day, the gulgula tree had become so huge and dense that the boy just stared at it in awe while walking around it. His heart felt lush green. Then with his fingers, he dug deeper around its base. He watered it all day. The pond was now more beautiful than ever. Travellers spat at it to ward off the evil eye.

The boy now began circling it like a buzzing insect. Inspected every leaf. Then watered it all day with handfuls of water. In the evening, as he left for home, he said:

Gulgula, gulgula, re, 

Sprout buds tomorrow itself, 

Else I'll pluck you and throw you to the fair cows.

And the next day, the scent of the buds burst forth! Everyone who saw it was astounded. Never before had anyone seen such an extraordinary tree. The boy was as happy as if he had become the ruler of the world. While leaving in the evening, he said:

Gulgula, gulgula, re, 

Bear the fruit of real gulgulas tomorrow itself, 

Else I'll chop you up and throw you to the fair cows.

That night the boy could hardly close his eyes. Longing for gulgulas, he tried to get some sleep but he couldn't get even a wink. It was the night of the full moon. With an hour of the night left, the boy set out to the bank of the pond. As soon as the boy reached the bank of the pond, the sweet smell of gulgulas wafted up to him, as if they had been fried in pure ghee made with cow’s milk. The tree was indeed full of gulgulas. On that moonlit night, the gulgulas looked even more beautiful than flowers. And as soon as the sun's rays touched them, the gulgulas began to glimmer like gold. He leapt on to the tree. He began plucking the gulgulas with both his hands and devouring them. They were like crystals of misri with butter! He began gulping them without pausing to chew. Ma had surely never made such gulgulas! As soon as he plucked a gulgula, another grew in its place. He alone ate as much as four grown-up men. Who in this world could possibly be more content in the world today than him?

Stomach full, he was burping, when a mother and daughter came and stood below the tree. The mother was old and withered. The daughter was about as old as the boy. Thin and fair. The older woman straightened her back somewhat, and sheltering her eyes with her hands, she looked up and said, “Beta, what kind of tree is this? I'm nearly a hundred and a quarter, I've wandered far and wide, but never have my eyes seen nor my ears heard of such a tree?”

Sitting on the gulgula tree and swaying his legs, the boy said, “Dokri-ma, what have you even seen then! This is a gulgula tree! Planted by my hands, watered by

my hands!” The dokri said, “Beta, did you only find me to joke with? Has there ever been a gulgula tree?” “Can't you see the tree is laden with countless gulgulas?” the boy answered. The dokri replied, “I can't see clearly, that is why I asked you—” The boy interrupted, “If you can't see clearly, ask your daughter—her eyes are as big as bowls.” The mother turned to her daughter, who said that it seemed like they were gulgulas indeed! The mother wiped the drool from her mouth and said, “Beta, may Ramji make you live a thousand years. Give us mother-daughter some gulgulas to eat too. Why eat all alone?”

Today the boy was very merry. “I'll pluck as many as you want,” he said with a smile. The dokri was carrying a basket on her head, which was full of thorns, long and sharp. The boy said, “Lay out the basket, I will fill it up with gulgulas.” The dokri clicked her tongue. “Nahi, beta, the basket is full of thorns. The gulgulas will break if they fall on them.”

“Then get a sack or something.”

“Where do we get a sack from?”

“Then spread out your cloth.”

“The cloth will become oily.”

The boy said, as he plucked gulgulas, “Okay, fine. Spread your palms. I'll throw the gulgulas straight into them.” Again, the dokri clicked her tongue and said, “Ni, beta. The gulgulas are very hot. My palms will get burnt.”

The boy was irritated now. “Then, what can I do about this? You keep saying no. Why not suggest something else?” The dokri said, “Beta, the teeth may be thankless, but the intestines are never thankless. Even after I die, they will continue to bless you. Tie up the gulgulas in your turban. May Ram bless you.” The boy agreed straightaway. Sitting on the gulgula tree, he cared nothing for these little things! With one end of the cloth, he tied three-four fistfuls of gulgulas. And tied the other end of the cloth to his hand. The dokri caught hold of the end of the cloth and suddenly tugged at it hard. The boy came crashing down. Even before he came to his senses, the mother and daughter tied him up and put him in their basket. The dokri then picked up the basket herself and placed it on her head. As soon as the boy regained his senses, he began screaming. The sharp thorns pricked him. He begged the old woman to let him go, but she would not listen. Grinding her teeth, she said, “Will you stop jumping around or not? If you wriggle too much, I will eat you raw! Do you know who I am? A daakan!”

The boy stopped crying and said, “Did you not say that the teeth may be thankless, but the intestines are never thankless? Is this the reward for giving you gulgulas?” Grinding her teeth, the dokri said, “This one is surely a rascal. As if this tree belongs to your father! I will eat as many gulgulas as I want. Who are you to tell me not to? Keep your orders to yourself—won't work with me!” The boy understood that arguing would be in vain. He would have to wait for the opportune moment. For now, it was better to survive with sweet talk. “If by eating me, your intestines are happy, then that's a good thing!” he began. “Rather than dying and being burnt, it's better to be food for men! My gurus teach me this every day.”

The old witch was extremely pleased by the boy's fearlessness. The taste of the meat of the fearless was another thing altogether! The flesh of the fearful becomes dry. Today, after many years, the mother and daughter would have the bliss of eating a human! Lying on thorns, the boy heard the mother and daughter talk. He soon sensed that they were passing a pond. He said, “Daakan-ma, I'm really thirsty. My whole body bleeds.” The daakan looked at her daughter and said, “Good you said it now. If you had said it any later, we would have had to come back all the way.” She climbed up the bank of the pond with the boy in the basket on her head. Then laying down the basket near the bank, she said, “Go, drink your fill; such pure and cool water you must have never drunk before!”

The boy said, “I can't stand up because of these thorns. Please get some water for me.” The dokri smacked the ground with her stick and roared, “Scoundrel! Ordering me around! Get up and drink with your hands, or let it be.” The daakan and her daughter grabbed his hands and made him stand on his legs. Thorns had pierced his body all over, but the boy did not even crinkle his nose. Quietly, he entered the pond to drink water and kept on going farther. When the daughter alerted her mother, the old woman called out, “Look here, gulgula boy, listen to me, or else there will be no one worse than me!”

She kept on screaming, but he swam like a fish and emerged on the other bank. The pond was quite large, so there was no way they could catch him easily. As soon as he came out of the water, he started running. The daakan kept on calling him, but he ran and went back straight to the gulgula tree. Soon, he began plucking the gulgulas and eating them.

The daakan could smell and tell that he was again sitting on the gulgula tree, eating sweet gulgulas and enjoying himself! She thought of a plan. Sending her daughter home, she changed her disguise and again passed the same tree, her face and voice changed completely. In the same way, she raised her neck, sheltered her eyes and said, “Beta, what is this new tree? I've grown so old but still have never seen such a tree.” The boy shot back, “Have your eyes burst? Can't you see—it's a gulgula tree.” The woman answered back, “Even I could see that, beta! Why, even Ramji must not have seen a gulgula tree! If you make me taste a few, I'll know that it's the truth you speak.” The boy got angry and said, “Daakan-witch, get lost! This time I won't fall into your trap. Wouldn't you eat my flesh if I did?”

The dokri pretended to be surprised and closed her ears with her fingers and said, “Beta, why do you talk as if Ram has forsaken you? I have come to the bank of this pond for the first time today. I came to find my goat. If you say, I will leave without finding it. But why speak like this?”

The boy stared hard at the old woman. True. . . there really was a goatskin flask full of water on her shoulders. The face was also different. Surely, there are many bent old women, he thought. Softening, he said, “That daakan looked so much like you.” The dokri laughed and said, “Beta, you are so silly. Every goat in my herd looks the same, but their bodies and souls are all different! Why call me names? If you want, I will go my way even if I can't find my goat.” Saying this, the dokri began to limp ahead. Seeing this, the boy was convinced that she was not that witch. He shouted, “Dokri-ma, don't go. Where is the shortage of gulgulas? Chomp on as many as you like. That daakan did me in rather badly, so I got angry. Open your goatskin flask. I'll fill it up with gulgulas.”

“Its mouth is too small. The gulgulas will just fall outside,” she said. The boy said with pride, “My aim never misses its mark. Not even one will fall out, you'll see.”

“If you throw them into the flask, the water will become greasy,”

“Okay, then spread your cloth.”

“The cloth is in tatters. As soon as the gulgulas fall, it will tear.”

“Okay, then spread your hands.”

“The gulgulas are hot. My hands will get burnt.”

“Then climb up the tree like me and eat.”

The dokri laughed. “When I was your age, I had the courage to climb up to the moon, but now I can't even jump over a fence, let alone climb a tree. You found only me to play jokes on!”

The boy shrugged. “Then what can I do? You only say no and no. What is to be done?” The dokri said, “Tie them in the end of your turban cloth if your heart truly wants to feed me gulgulas.” The boy then waited no more. He tied fistfuls of gulgulas and lowered the cloth.

As she was untying the knot in the cloth, she suddenly tugged so hard that the boy fell crashing to the ground. Before he regained his senses, the dokri put him in the goatskin flask and tied up its mouth. Slinging it on her shoulders, she hurried home. As soon as she reached her house, she bolted the door. Catching the boy by his hair, she pulled him out of the flask. “You escaped with the excuse of your thirst!” she thundered. “Now tell me, where will you go? Wait a little. I will make you drink so that you will never feel thirsty again!”

After having her fill of screaming at the boy, the dokri instructed her daughter to finely pound the gulgula boy with the mortar and the pestle, spice him up, and cook him in the pot. She would go to the market and get something to drink. Today, after many days, there would be a smashing party!

The shop was five miles away. The dokri took her stick and hurried away. As soon as the woman left, the gulgula boy began to guffaw so loudly that he went on guffawing for a while. The daughter of the witch was now puzzled: why was this fool laughing like this at the time of his death? She looked at his face. Teeth as white as pearls. Jet-black hair so smooth that even the eye would slip off it. The daakan's daughter had dirty yellow teeth. Her hair was dry and bedraggled. As much as she had tried, neither would her teeth whiten up nor would her hair become silky and black. She became jealous of the boy.

She came closer to him and said, “How are your teeth so white? And your hair so black?” The boy said, even as he laughed, “You wait and watch what happens. The teeth will get whiter still. The hair will get blacker still. My mother casts this spell every day. My mother and your mother have the same nature. If she had not put my head in the mortar and beat it with the pestle every day, neither would my teeth be as white nor my head as black! Earlier my teeth were yellower than yours. And

my hair was like the coir of a coconut!”

The girl squealed in astonishment, “What are you saying! Your teeth were yellower than—!” The boy interrupted, “Yes, yes, they were very yellow, else am I lying?” The girl said eagerly, “Then why delay? Do this little enchantment for me.” The boy said, “Until I dress as a woman and you dress as a man, this enchantment won't work.”

“What is the big deal in that? You wear my clothes; I'll wear yours!”

The boy hadn't thought this would happen so easily. The girl eagerly changed her clothes in anticipation of the beautiful teeth and silken hair. She made him wear all her jewels and trinkets. Then the boy said, “You'll have to plait my hair too.” The daakan's daughter now got annoyed. “You fuss too much! Sit down! I'll plait your hair right away,” she huffed. She began plaiting his hair. Tresses as smooth as silk! It became hard for her to be patient for another second. She quickly parted his hair and plaited it. Looking at his face, she said, “Leave aside my ma, even I can't say that you aren't her daughter. Look at you! If the teeth and hair become similar, no one can know who is who!”

Then she ran and got the pestle. She gave it to the boy and put her head in the mortar. Why would the boy wait any longer! As soon as he got the chance, he brought down the pestle so hard on her head that in only one scream, the girl was limp and lifeless. As the daakan was still out shopping, he quickly smashed and chopped her up and put her into the pot. He then added lots of spices and ghee.

The daakan returned from the shop in high spirits, swaying and singing. Then she suddenly remembered and asked her daughter, “Is that rascal cooked?”

The moment the daughter said yes, the old witch sat down with a large bowl. She began saying, “Two bowifuls I will eat. After many days, the creases in my stomach will get ironed out!” The daughter tilted the pot and filled the bowl. Her mother began eating it even as it was boiling hot, and even as one looked, she finished it all off. As she began eating the second bowlful, her pet cat came and said:

Ma eats her daughter, haaye re haaye,

Give me a little piece, haaye re haaye.

But the Ma was too happy to understand what the cat was saying. As she ate, she found a little finger in the bowl. A four-inch-long nail! The mother was confused. This nail was certainly her daughter's. But the daughter was standing there serving her! Maybe the boy too had such nails, she thought.

She ate the meat and rolled over where she was. At midnight, she woke her daughter and said that the daughter's in-laws would come at dawn. If, by chance, she should wake up late, the daughter should leave no stone unturned in their reception. Even if she was a daakan, even if she was asleep, she could not forget what was important for the respect of her daughter.

And so, the daughter's in-laws came to fetch her, and at night, she was bid farewell. Parting with her daughter, the mother's heart was in her mouth. She hid and cried her heart out. The next day at daybreak, five-six men from her daughter’s in-laws’ house came to the daakan's home. “Has your daughter come back here?” they asked. The dokri said, “Why do you ask me? I had sent her off with you... You haven't killed her off, have you...?” When the dokri's ears heard these words from her mouth, a shiver ran through her body.

As soon as the effect of the drink from last night wore off, she understood what had transpired last night. In a flash she understood what the cat had said. The nail of that little finger seemed to stab her insides! That finger was her daughter's! That devil had fed the mother her daughter and fled.

The daakan began to convulse. The fire in her heart would not be put out till she ate that gulgula boy! The rascal had tricked her the second time! Killed her daughter!

The daakan was very sure that the boy would not leave his gulgula tree and go anywhere! She again changed her appearance, took a stick in her hand and went there straightaway. As she passed from under it, she stared at the extraordinary tree and asked, “Beta, what tree is this? Leave alone having seen with the eyes, even my ears have never heard of such a tree!”

The boy hid his anger and said sweetly, “Ma, this is a gulgula tree.” The dokri continued to stare and said, “So, this tree bears gulgulas?” “Yes, Ma. And not just any gulgulas, but gulgulas that taste as if they have been fried in ghee made with cow milk.” She said, “Beta, may Ram make you live a thousand years. I've only ever heard of gulgulas, never tasted them. If you give me twenty gulgulas every day, I'll worship you every single day.” The boy said, “Why twenty, have a thousand gulgulas every day. Why would I say no?” The dokri replied, “Nahi, beta, I don't want a thousand. Twenty is enough. Too much greed is not good.” The boy saw that the woman carried a trunk on her shoulders. “Come, open your box. I'll fill it up with gulgulas.”

She hesitated and said, “Nahi, beta, my clean box will become greasy.”

“Then spread your odhna.”

“My odhna is dirty. . . The gulgulas will become dirty.”

“Then spread your hands.”

Trying to act fearful, the dokri said, “The gulgulas are hot. My palms will get blisters.”

The boy knew the ways of this old woman, but he pretended not to understand, and like before, he continued, “Not this, not that, then how do I feed you the gulgulas?”

The daakan now thought that this foolish boy was walking into her trap. If this time he escaped, shame on her tribe! Promptly, she said, “Beta, if you want to feed me gulgulas, tie them in the end of your turban cloth and throw them this way. I will taste them myself. If they are nice, I'll help you make lots of sales.” The boy said, “Ma, your blessings are more important than the turban cloth. Stand here. Let me pluck ripe-ripe gulgulas for you.”

As the boy said this, the dokri promptly came and stood there with her walking stick. The boy was ready to feed her gulgulas. He shouted, “Take, dokri!” The dokri turned out to be louder than the boy and said twice as loudly, “Give!”

And as soon as the word escaped her lips, he threw a huge stone boulder from the top of the tree. The daakan collapsed into a pile without a sound. The boy came down and smashed her to a pulp. He then shoved her into a pit. Washed his hands and again climbed up the tree.

In some time, the boy's mother came by. When she saw her son on the tree, she was delighted. “You, langoor, you sit here having a nice time and I've been searching for you for so long that my legs are swollen! At least come and eat on time.” The son brought a fistful of gulgulas and said, “Who would leave these gulgulas made with cow's ghee and have dry, simple morsels? Now you don't need to cook at all! See what an extraordinary gulgula tree your son has planted!”

“Planted, re, planted! Fool! Is there ever a tree of gulgulas?”

As he put one warm gulgula in his mother's mouth, he said, “They don't compare to gulgulas made by Ma's hands, but surely these gulgulas from the tree nurtured by the son's own hands must not be too bad!”

Even as she ate gulgulas, Ma gushed, “Such sweet gulgulas I've never had before!”

From then on, maa-beta would have their fill of gulgulas every day and also feed everyone in the village. Such was that extraordinary gulgula tree! Gulgule khaiye aur milte hai agle hafte on What the Folk!