Category Archives: Folktale

Manu and Noah: Strikingly Different, Surprisingly Similar

Manu and Noah: Strikingly Different, Surprisingly Similar

By Sahil Prasad, grade 8, Maryland.

King Manu, the first man according to Hinduism, and Noah, the survivor of the great flood, are two legendary men, who hail from entirely different religions of the world. Yet, these great individuals, surprisingly, shared multiple similarities that would be interesting to dwell upon during these times when religion is the source of divisiveness.

The Great Flood Survivors

First, both Manu and Noah were chosen by their respective Gods to survive a great flood. Their stories are startlingly similar. It is incredible that the two civilizations that these stories originated from were never in direct contact with each other until many centuries later!

The Matsya or Fish Avatar of Lord Vishnu. Artwork is from the public domain and Wikipedia.

Manu was a sage who dedicated his life to faithfully serving and worshiping Hindu gods. The Lord Vishnu, the preserver in the Hindu trinity, chose Manu to be the survivor of a flood that would cleanse the world. The story goes that Vishnu decided to take the form of a tiny fish, the first of Vishnu’s ten avatars, and said to Manu, “Protect me from my predators and I will reward you.” Manu decided to keep the Vishnu-fish in a pot, which it quickly outgrew, and then in a lake, which also proved to be too small for the fish. Eventually, Manu moved the fish to the ocean. This is where Vishnu assumed his true form and informed Manu about a great flood that was about to occur. To ensure that his faithful follower survived, Vishnu instructed Manu to build an ark or a giant boat with all the animals, seeds, and other essential materials to survive the flood and start a new life. Manu decided to invite the seven holy sages or the Saptarishis to live with him in the new world. Manu and the seven holy sages guided the ark through the giant flood with the help of Vishnu–who led the ship with his horn in his giant fish form–to a peak where they rested until the world was cleansed. Finally, Vishnu came true to his promise and bestowed upon Manu the scriptural knowledge and power. The scriptural knowledge was passed down by Manu’s descendants and still continues to be studied today in the form of the Vedas.

Fun fact: According to B. B. Lal, the former director of the India Archaeology Institute, the flood of Manu approximately occurred as far back as the second millennium BCE.

Now coming to Noah; unlike Manu, the human race already existed in Noah’s world. The old human race was only concerned with money and killing, so God was disappointed with them. He decided to give the humans another chance by having Noah, the only devotee and true believer left on the planet, to be the guardian of a better human race. Noah, like Manu, also built an ark under God’s instructions, which were, “Build an ark of gopherwood, with rooms inside, three decks, and a door. Cover it inside and out with pitch.” (Genesis 6:13-22) Noah’s ark wandered the Earth (with Noah’s family and the various species that he had been instructed to bring with him) for 40 days and 40 nights in continuous rain. Noah traversed the ocean for another 150 days until God directed the boat to Mount Ararat (in present day Turkey) where it halted. Eventually, Noah sent out a dove to find land for them to settle and it came back a week later with an olive branch, which meant that land was out there. Just like to Manu, God made a promise to Noah that he would never flood the Earth ever again.

Harbingers of the Human Race

Manu and Noah were also attributed with ensuring the survival of the human race. After the great flood, Manu made a sacrifice to Brahma, the Creator in the Hindu trinity. He placed sour milk and butter in shallow water and this resulted in a maiden emerging from it, soon to become his wife. Eventually, the human race would start to grow at an exponential rate. Manu then instituted a quintessential set of laws (Laws of Manu) based on the Hindu scriptures that his ten sons and one daughter and subsequently, their descendants had to follow. One of these laws was to divide the population based on their gunas or skill sets. For example, people who were versed in the scriptures would be known as Brahmins. Eventually, humanity split into the solar clan founded by Manu’s sons and the lunar clan founded by Manu’s daughter. According to Hindu scriptures, Manu will be reincarnated when our current universe will be cleansed by Vishnu—in about 186.72 million years according to the Hindu scriptures—and he will be the leader and lawgiver of a more superior race.

In the case of Noah, after the devastating flood, he continued to live with his family and repopulate the Earth. Noah lived until the age of 950 and just like Manu, God helped his family grow rapidly. Just like the descendants of Manu split into the Solar and Lunar Clans, Noah’s descendants also split and settled the world, but they followed a different and more contentious trajectory than Manu’s descendants. Here’s how it played out.

Noah’s great grandson, Nimrod, began to build a colossal structure called the Tower of Babel, which slowly approached the height of the heavens. Citizens thought that Nimrod was building a temple, but it was revealed that reaching the heavens was his motivation all along to prove that he was an equal to God. As a result of Nimrod’s selfish actions, God decided to halt the construction of the Tower by making the workers speak different languages so they wouldn’t understand each other. As a last step, God took his punishment further and decreed that people of the city had to settle all around the world. This is how the world came to be inhabited according to the story of Noah and his family.

So there it is: the story of Manu and Noah. Given the striking similarities between them, some experts argue that they could be one and the same, a theory certainly worth pondering.

—Sahil Prasad, grade 8, Maryland.

 

The King of Maragor

The King of Maragor

Based on a Jataka Tale

By Christina G. Waldman, New York

The Lord of Jataka strode pensively up and down his marble-floored chamber, stroking his short, stubby beard. Any minute now Sahbasad, his most trusted advisor, would come through the curtained doorway. Perhaps then his troubled mind would find relief.

He had not been Lord of Jataka long. Indeed, it had only been six months since his father had sent him to this far-away city to try to restore it to its former prosperity. True, six months was not long, but there was much reason for despair.

He had wanted to make Jataka the shining star of all his father’s cities. Yet, he feared, it was nothing more than a laughingstock.

“My Lord.” Sahbasad peered through the velvet curtain.

“Sahbasad.” The king’s face brightened at the sight of his friend. “Come, sit here beside me and dispel the gloom from this room. Tell me, have you made your way among the common folk as I asked you to do these past weeks?”

“Yes, my Lord.”

“Good. And what have you learned?”

Sahbasad took a deep breath. “Your Highness, I fear you will not like what I have to say.”

“Out with it, Sahbasad. I must know.”

“Very well, then. None of your plans for improvement are being carried out. The libraries and museums you have commissioned to be built exist only on paper. The lovely gardens you and I designed have no gardeners to tend them. The statues of great men and women you ordered to be carved sit unformed in blocks of marble. Oh, my Lord, it is indeed pitiful!”

“And what do the people do, then?” cried the Lord. “The farmers—surely they must be harvesting their crops so there will be food for the winter?”

“My Lord, I’m afraid no crops were planted,” said Sahbasad.

The Lord grew alarmed. “This is worse than I thought. What is this evil that has paralyzed my people?”

“No one will speak of it.”

The king’s sharp glance pierced Sahbasad. “But you must speak of it. We grew up together, before fate called us to different roles. I trust no one as much as I trust you. Now tell me, what is it the people fear so?”

Sahbasad began boldly but ended in a whisper: “Though none dare say his name, it is the—the—King of Maragor.”

“The King of Maragor!” exclaimed the Lord. “What do you know of him?”

“It is said he is very evil, a king of darkness, who will bring to naught any good the people try to accomplish. Instead of venturing out to work for their bread, they cling to the little they have, scraping their grain barrels for one last measure of porridge. They fear that Maragor will send his villainous horsemen to trample any field they plant.”

The Lord fumed. “Sahbasad, I want you to take whatever men, horses, and provisions you need, and travel to the Kingdom of Maragor. Find out all you can about him: how he lives, what he eats, what music he likes, whom he trusts—everything! Take one hundred witnesses with you. When you find him, tell him that I, the Lord of Jataka, am not afraid to say his name.”

Sahbasad trembled. “Must I, Lord?” Knowing the answer, he rose and was gone.

Ten years passed. The Lord of Jataka’s people had not prospered. More and more, the Lord shut himself up in his palace, for it hurt him to see how they suffered. Though children were hungry, most farmers still refused to till the soil, for why plant what Maragor’s horsemen would only destroy?

Finally, one day, as the Lord strode up and down with worry, a visitor was announced.

“Sahbasad! At last you have returned, my friend. We are both grizzled and gray. Come, sit here beside me. Tell me about Maragor.”

“My Lord,” Sahbasad began reluctantly. “What I have to say will surprise you. I hope it will not anger you.”

“What is it, Sahbasad?”

Sahbasad bowed his head. “I have not found him.”

“What!” cried the Lord.

“It is true. My men and I have searched for ten long years, but we never found him. In fact, I am certain he does not even exist.”

“Oh! Perhaps you found his villainous horsemen?”

“Not a trace.”

“Then, my people have been deceived.”

“It appears so, my Lord,” said Sahbasad.

The Lord’s brow furrowed in thought. Then he slowly smiled. “Sahbasad, were you afraid to undertake this mission?”

“Oh, yes.” Sahbasad shuddered.

“But, now you have learned that what you feared was not real.”

“It appears so, my Lord,” said Sahbasad, with a slight smile.

The Lord jumped to his feet excitedly. “Sahbasad, would you swear to what you’ve just told me?”

Sahbasad handed the king a parchment scroll. “I, and a thousand witnesses have done so.”

“A thousand!”

“Yes, they are all standing in your courtyard,” said Sahbasad.

The Lord hastened to his window. Sure enough, his courtyard was filled with people.

“Sahbasad,” said the Lord, “take up pen and parchment. Write these words to my people:

“My Beloved People:
It has been sworn to me by a thousand witnesses that
THERE IS NO KING OF MARAGOR.
For many years, we have let fear of this imaginary king paralyze us.
Our enemy was not Maragor, but our fear.
Signed,
The Lord of Jataka.”

“Make copies of this proclamation and post them on every pillar in the land. But first, my faithful friend, kneel before me.”

Sahbasad knelt, amazed. The Lord touched his shoulder and knighted him, saying, “No, Sahbasad, you have not failed. By your valor and devotion, you have succeeded. You have proven this fearsome phantom-king to be made of thin air. You have thrown back the veil of darkness and opened the door to a sunlit garden of possibility. From now on we are truly brothers. Go.”

With tears in his eyes, Sahbasad rose, embraced his king, and set out to proclaim his message of hope.

—Christie Waldman grew up in a small town in Illinois. She first wanted to be a published writer when she was seven years old. Her short story for children, “Something to Look Forward To,” can be read online at Ember: A Journal of Luminous Things (Oct. 2021). 

https://read.emberjournal.org/christina-g-waldman/something-to-look-forward-to/

Author’s Note:

The source for this story was Josephine Saint-Hilaire,  “Parable of the King of Maragor,” first published in English in her book, On Eastern Crossroads: Legends and Prophecies of Asia (New York: Frederick A. Stokes Co., 1930). © The Agni Yoga Society, New York.

 http://agniyoga.org/ay_en/On-Eastern-Crossroads.php

 

Cinderella, a Poem

Cinderella
Once upon a time a girl in rags,
Walked to the market carrying bags.

Cinderella worked by her evil stepmother,
And her greedy, priding stepsisters.

One time all the ladies were invited,
To the royal ball so they were excited.

Cinderella’s family was elated,
So they dressed in shimmering gowns blue and red.

They left for the ball on a nice horse ride,
Cinderella remained at home and cried,

“Oh Lord, why can’t I go to the ball?
Like the other ladies and all?”

Suddenly a flash of light came and when it disappeared,
A woman in a royal gown appeared.

With a wand in her hand she told,
“I am your fairy godmother who’s very old,

Now, you can go to the ball, my dear
But you must have something better to wear!”

With a swish of her wand and a note of her song,
Cinderella’s rags turned into a gown before long!

Finished with glass slippers and a tiara on her head,
Her fairy godmother now said,

“Now fetch me a pumpkin, my dear!
And watch closely here!”

Six mice turned into horses and the pumpkin into a carriage,
A rat into the driver, all set for the prince’s marriage!

Cinderella got into the carriage with a new light,
Her fairy godmother said, “You must return when the clock strikes midnight.”

At the ball, on Cinderella Prince Charming’s eyes fell,
Such beauty with words he couldn’t tell,

They danced all night long,
To the royal orchestra’s sweet song!

Suddenly, the clock struck midnight, the start of a new day,
Cinderella turned and ran away!

The gown turned back to the rags she wore,
All worn and torn just like before.

One of her glass slippers she left behind
For Prince Charming, which he did find.

And he exclaimed, “Soldiers, find the owner of this slipper!
And I shall of course marry her.”

The soldiers searched the whole town
For the lady whom they were going to crown.

And when they reached Cinderella’s home,
Where the glass slipper was seen.

It didn’t fit either stepsisters’ feet,
But for Cinderella’s feet it fitted very neat.

Escorted to the royal palace later,
Cinderella and the prince lived happily ever after!

By Tanvi Arunkumar, Grade 4, Tamilnadu, India. She adds: 
“At home, I speak Tamil and English. My family and school are the things that are really important to me. And my all time favourite hobby is swimming (Outdoors) and writingpoems. My long-term vision is to become an astronaut and discover more interesting 
solar systems.”

Peaches- a Folktale

Aiyo! Ben dan over there! No one wants to buy fresh wood. You ain’t getting any money today!” jeered the other merchants. An lowered his head in shame, tugging his cloak tightly around his scrawny shoulders. As time passed, people began to return home. Realizing that it was another day without money, An packed his things up. As he was carrying his load with heavy footsteps back home he heard a cry.

Aiyo! You, little boy over there!”

An turned around, startled. An old man came hobbling towards him.

An bowed his head respectfully. The old man said, “You look very sad… Money issues, isn’t it?”

An nodded.

“Well, what if I told you there is a chance for you to become as rich as the emperor?” the old man questioned.

An’s ears perked up at these words.

The old man continued, “There is a rumor that a peach garden is hidden near a beautiful palace owned by the goddess Queen Mother of the West, Xi Wangmu, herself. Once a mortal eats the nectar in the peach, he will instantly become immortal. Not only would you become immortal, you could also become the richest man on earth by selling those peaches!”

The old man tipped his straw hat and hobbled away, leaving. After that day, all day and all night, the old man’s words stuck in An’s head, constantly nagging him making his head throb and ache. Finally, he knew that he had to climb Kunlun Mountain no matter what.

So, off he set. The more he climbed, the more the mountain seemed to receed farther away from him and closer towards the sky instead. Minutes felt like hours, hours felt like days, and days felt like an eternity. An didn’t believe that his body could hold his weight much longer.

Panting heavily, he finally approached the last rock ahead of him. He clung on tightly and hoisted his weight up the cliff, causing all the energy he had left to drain out of him. What he saw there made him gasp in shock! Just as he had been told, the palace ahead of him was truly breathtaking. Surrounding it were towering cliffs of jade and emerald, and the palace itself was covered in exotic jewels. Monstrous trees with Phoenix- egg-like dangling peaches hovered over An’s head. An subconsciously found himself gulping, as streaks of saliva began to flow out of his mouth. He looked around cautiously and seeing no one, flung his bag over his shoulders, thrusted his hands on the tree trunk, and prepared to climb.

His gaze did not leave sight of the peaches. Thorns pricked his bare hands but the pain did not bother him one bit. He stretched his arms as far as he could reach, plucking the plump peaches one after another and putting them into his worn out bag.

Just then, An heard a shriek,

“You wanpi little boy! Ni zheng zai gan shen me? Come down this instant!”

An turned around with a jolt. In front of him was Xi Wangmu herself. Her eyes flared with flames of anger, sharp claws were visible on the tip of her fingers, and her skin was bright orange with black stripes. An lept out of the tree, wincing in pain as he crashed to the ground in a great plummet. He knelt down, not daring to look up at Xi Wangmu.

Inhaling deeply, he stammered,“Dear prepossessing, captivating, enthralling, exquisite…”

He was about to go on, but Xi Wangmu bluntly interrupted, “Bai tuo ni! Just get to the point and tell me why you are here holding my fruits!”

An summarized his whole life as quickly as he could and then bowed deeply, waiting for her response nervously.

“My dear boy,” Xi Wangmu said, lifting the boy’s chin so that his eyes made contact with hers. “Everyone makes mistakes once in awhile. You just have to learn from them.”

An’s eye bulged out in surprise. He quickly bowed before the Queen Mother and got up, clenching his teeth as he felt the pain in his ankle.

With that, the Queen Mother of West walked away.

An took a quick last look at the palace. The periwinkle sky was tinted with shades of pink and purple, and the palace coated with jewels glistened in the last rays of sunshine. He took a plump peach out of his bag, examining it. The thought of becoming immortal made him breathless with exhilaration. His teeth eagerly plunged deeply into the peach, as an explosion of sweet juice flooded his mouth. He swallowed and immediately examined his skin expecting to see a shiny glow appear, indicating that he had become immortal. Much to his dismay, his skin remained the same. Doubt and bewilderment filled his mind. He bit again but still nothing. He then recalled what Xi Wangmu had said, “Everyone makes mistakes once in awhile. You just have to learn from them.” He sighed deeply, realizing after all his effort, he had received nothing but a bag of peaches and an important lesson.

Even today, people enjoy the sweet, juicy peaches but the magic in them has vanished. It’s almost as if it never existed.

Glossary:

Ben dan: idiotic, dumb, stupid.

Hai zi: child.

Wanpi: mischievous, silly.

Aiyo: oh, used when someone is

  calling the other person.

Bai tuo ni: please, but used in a sarcastic, annoyed tone.

Ni zheng zai gan shen me: What are you doing right now?

—E. Choi, 12, U.S.-born Korean living in Hong Kong.