Adapted from an old tale

Once upon a time there lived in India a poor old man whose name was Wali Dâd. He had no hair, and was sometimes called Wali Dâd the Bald. He lived alone in a little mud hut, quite far from the town. He had no family, and made his living by cutting the jungle grass and selling it as food for the horses and cows round about. He earned only a few pennies a day, but he was a very simple old man and needed very little. From this small income he was able to save half a penny every week, while spending the rest on food and clothing.

He lived in this way for many years, until one night he decided to count the money he had saved up and hidden away in an earthen pot buried under the floor of his hut. Carefully he dug it out and was amazed to see all the coins that came tumbling out. What could he possibly do with all this money? He never even thought of spending the money on himself, because he was very content with his life as it was, and had every intention of passing the rest of his days exactly as he had been doing for years. Finally he rolled all the money up into an old sack and put it away under his bed, covered himself up with his ragged old shawl, and went to sleep.

Early next morning, he staggered off with his sack of money to the shop of a jeweler whom he knew in the town, and bargained with him for a beautiful gold bracelet. With this carefully wrapped up in a little cotton bag and put safely away in his pocket, he went to the house of a rich friend who was a traveling merchant who wandered about with his camels and merchandise, visiting many towns and cities and countries. Wali Dâd was lucky enough to find his friend at home, so after a cup of tea, he asked the merchant who was the most virtuous and beautiful lady he had ever met in all his travels. The merchant replied that without a doubt, it would have to be the Princess of Khaistân, who was known everywhere both for her beauty and for her kindness and generosity.

“Next time you go that way,” Wali Dâd, “Please give her this little bracelet, with the respectful compliments of one who admires virtue far more than he desires wealth.” He pulled the bracelet from his pocket and handed it to his friend. The merchant was naturally much astonished, but he agreed to carry out the old man’s plan.

The merchant soon set out on his journey and eventually arrived in the capital of Khaistân. He presented himself at the palace and sent in the bracelet, neatly packed in a little perfumed box he had put it in for safekeeping, and giving at the same time the message entrusted to him by Wali Dâd.

The princess had no idea who could possibly have sent her this present. She asked the merchant to come back in a few days, at which time she would give him a reply. When the merchant returned, she gave him a gift of a camel-load of rich silks for the mysterious giver, as well as some money for himself. And so he set out on his journey home.

It took him several months to reach home, but when he arrived he immediately took the princess’s gift to Wali Dâd. This good man was very surprised to find a camel-load of silk left at his door! What could he possibly do with these valuable things? He thought about it for some time, and then he asked his merchant friend whether perhaps he knew of a young and worthy prince who might be able to use such treasures.

“Yes, I know just the one,” the merchant said. “From Delhi to Baghdad, and from Constantinople to Lucknow, I know them all; and there lives no prince worthier than the gallant and wealthy young Prince of Nekabad.”

“Very well, then, take these silks to him with the blessing of an old man,” said Wali Dâd, much relieved to be rid of them.

The next time the merchant traveled that way he took the camel-load of silks with him. Eventually he arrived at Nekabad, and sought an audience with the prince. There he presented the beautiful gift of silks from Wali Dâd, and begged the young man to accept them as a humble tribute to his worth and greatness. The prince was much touched by this generosity, and as return present, ordered that twelve of the finest horses for which his country was famous should be delivered to Wali Dâd. He also gave a magnificent gift to the merchant, in thanks for his services.

As before, the merchant arrived home and immediately set off to see Wali Dâd. When the old man saw the horses coming, he said to himself, “What good luck! There’s a whole troop of horses coming down the road, and they are sure to eat lots of grass. I will be able to sell all I have today without having to walk to market at all!” He raced off to cut as much grass as he could, and was quite dismayed when he got back to find that all these horses were a gift for him. He couldn’t imagine what he might do with them, but at last he hit on a solution. He gave two to the merchant, and begged him to take the other ten back to the worthy Princess of Khaistân. She was clearly the best person to receive such a wonderful gift!

Laughing, the merchant agreed, and true to his friend’s request, took the horses with him on his next journey and eventually presented them safely to the princess. This time the princess sent for the merchant and questioned him about the giver. Now the merchant was usually a most honest man, yet he did not quite like to describe Wali Dâd in his true light as an old man whose income was five halfpence a day and who hardly had clothes to cover himself. So he told her that his friend had heard tales of her beauty and goodness and had longed to lay the best he had at her feet. The princess then confided in her father and begged him to advise what courtesy she might return to the one who persisted in sending her such presents.

“Well,” said the king, “you cannot refuse them. The best thing you can do is to send this unknown friend a present so magnificent that he is not likely to be able to send you anything better and will therefore be ashamed to send anything at all!”

He then suggested that for each of the ten horses, the princess should send back twenty mules laden with silver. Thus in a few hours the merchant found himself in charge of such a large and splendid caravan that he even had to hire a number of armed men to defend it against robbers on the road. He was glad indeed to find himself safely back at Wali Dâd’s hut.

“Well now, what is all this?” Wali Dâd exclaimed when he saw the wealth laid at his door. “Now I can repay that kind prince for his gift of the horses. But you have also been put to much trouble and expense, my friend, so please kindly accept four mules and their loads in payment, and take the rest to the prince of Nekabad. If you will do this I will thank you heartily.”

The merchant felt handsomely paid for his trouble, and as soon as he could get things ready, he set out to Nekabad with this new and princely gift, greatly wondering how all this was going to come out.

This time the prince was embarrassed by the magnificence of the offering just as the princess had been before him, and he questioned the merchant closely about the giver. The merchant was uncomfortable about carrying the joke any further, but he could not help describing Wali Dâd in such glowing terms that the old man would never have known himself had he heard them.

The prince, like the King of Khaistân, determined that if he sent back a gift that was truly royal, it would perhaps prevent the unknown giver from sending him anything more. So he made up a caravan of twenty splendid horses decorated in gold-embroidered cloth, with fine leather saddles and silver bridles and stirrups. He also sent twenty of the best breed of camels that could run as fast as race horses, and twenty elephants carrying magnificent riding chairs with silver canopies and covered by silk embroidered with pearls. The merchant had to hire a little army of men to protect this rich caravan, and the troop made a great show as it traveled along.

When Wali Dâd saw the caravan coming, it made so much dust that he knew there were many animals. He saw both elephants and horses. “What a grand crowd!” he said to himself. “I must quickly cut plenty of grass. It will be selling well today and I can sell all I have without going to market.” He ran out into the jungle and quickly cut as much grass as he could. Just as he arrived home with it, the caravan stopped outside his door. The merchant was waiting for him.

“More riches!” cried Wali Dâd when he saw the merchant and realized the caravan was all for him. “What has an old man like me with one foot in the grave to do with riches? That beautiful young princess, now – she’d be the one to enjoy all these fine things! Please take for yourself two horses, two camels, and two elephants and all they carry, and present the rest to her.”

The merchant at first objected and pointed out to Wali Dâd that he was beginning to find these visits a little awkward. Of course he was richly repaid, but still he did not like going so often and he was getting nervous. At length, however, he consented to go once more, but he promised himself that this would be the last time. So, after a few days’ rest, the caravan started off once more for Khaistân.

When the King of Khaistân saw the train of men, horses, and elephants entering his palace courtyard, he came rushing down to find out where they were from. He was struck dumb when he heard that these, like the others before them, were from the princely Wali Dâd to the princess, his daughter. He went hastily off to his daughter and said, “I tell you what is going on here, my dear – this man wants to marry you. That is the meaning of all these presents! He must be a man of immense wealth, and as he is so devoted to you, you might do worse than marry him! There is nothing for it but to go and pay him a visit in person.”

The princess agreed with her father, and orders were given to prepare for the journey. A royal caravan was organized with elephants and camels, tents and flags, and groups of lords and ladies, all of whom would pay a visit to the great and munificent prince, Wali Dâd. The king asked the merchant to guide the entire party to Wali Dâd’s palace.

Can you imagine the feelings of the poor merchant now? Willingly he would have run away, but he was treated with so much hospitality, as Wali Dâd’s representative, that he hardly got an instant’s peace and never any opportunity of slipping away unseen. In fact, after a few days, despair got hold of him to such a degree he made up his mind that it was fate and escape was impossible.

Day after day they moved on, and each day the poor merchant felt more ill and miserable. He wondered what kind of death the king would invent for him, and he went through almost as much torture lying awake at night thinking over the situation as he would have suffered if the king’s executioners were already upon him.

At last they were only one day’s journey from Wali Dâd’s little mud hut. Here a great encampment was made, and the merchant was sent on to tell Wali Dâd that the King and Princess of Khaistân had arrived and were seeking an interview.

When the merchant arrived, he found his old friend eating his simple dinner of onions and dry bread. He told him of all that had happened. Wali Dâd was overwhelmed with grief and shame for himself as well as for his friend, and for the name and honor of the princess; and he wept and plucked at his beard and groaned most piteously. With tears he begged the merchant to detain them for one day with any excuse he could think of and to come back the next morning to discuss what they should do.

As soon as the merchant was gone, Wali Dâd made up his mind that the only honorable way out of the terrible situation that he had created by his own foolishness was to end his life. He set off in the middle of the night to a place where steep, rocky cliffs looked down over the winding river far below. He was determined to throw himself over, and he took a little run towards the edge – but when he got to the brink of that dreadful black gulf, he stopped short. He could not do it! He pulled back from the rim, put his face in his hands, and began to weep aloud.

Before long he was aware of a gentle radiance that surrounded him. Surely morning had not come to reveal his disgrace so soon! He took his hands away from his face and saw two shining beings that he knew were not mortals, but were from another world.

“Why do you weep, old man?” said one, her voice as clear and musical as that of a sweet songbird.

“I weep for shame,” he replied.

“What are you doing here?” asked the other.

“I came here to die,” said Wali Dâd, “I was going to throw myself off the cliff.” And as they questioned him, he confessed the whole story.

Then the first shining being stepped forward and laid a hand on his shoulder. Wali Dâd began to feel that something strange was happening to him, but he didn’t know what it was. His old cotton rags became beautiful linen and embroidered cloth, and on his dirty, callused, bare feet he wore warm, soft shoes. On his head was a great jeweled turban, round his neck was a golden necklace, and his little old bent sickle that had been used to cut grass for so many years, suddenly became a gorgeous sword with an ivory hilt, tucked into his waistband.

He stood in wonder, like a man in a dream, and the other shining being waved its hand and told him to turn and look. Lo, before him a noble gateway stood open, showing an avenue of giant trees beyond. Up this avenue the shining beings led him. He walked, dumb with amazement, and at the end of the avenue, on the very spot where his hut had stood, a gorgeous palace appeared, ablaze with light. The palace had wide porches all around, with guards pacing back and forth and saluting him, and servants rushing about doing their jobs. There were singing fountains, and the scent of flowers filled the air. Wali Dâd stood stunned and helpless, gazing at the palace.

“Fear not,” said one of the shining beings. “Your simple heart has been rewarded. Go into your house.” Then both the beings disappeared. Thinking he must be dreaming, the old man walked into the palace. Eventually he went to sleep in a splendid room, far grander than any he had ever dreamed of. When he woke at daybreak he found that the palace and his servants were all real, and that he was not dreaming after all!

If Wali Dâd was dumbfounded, his old friend the merchant was even more so, when he arrived at the palace soon after sunrise. He told Wali Dâd that he had not slept all night and had started out at dawn to find him. And what a search it had been! The great stretch of wild jungle that surrounded Wali Dâd’s mud hut had been changed during the night to parks and gardens, and had it not been for some of Wali Dâd’s new servants, who found and brought the merchant to the palace, he would have run away thinking that his troubles had driven him insane and that his imagination had gotten away with him entirely.

Then Wali Dâd told the merchant all that had happened. On the merchant’s advice, he sent an invitation to the King and Princess of Khaistân, together with all their traveling court, down to the very humblest servant, to come and be his guests. For three nights and days a great feast was held in honor of the royal guests. Every evening the king and his nobles were served on golden plates and golden cups. The others were served with silver plates and silver cups, and at each meal they were told to keep the plates and cups as a memento of the evening. Never had anything so splendid been seen. In addition to the daily feasts, there were sports and hunting, dances and amusements of all kinds.

On the fourth day the King of Khaistân took his host aside and asked him whether it was true, as he suspected, that Wali Dâd wished to marry his daughter. Wali Dâd, after thanking him very much for the compliment, said that he had never dreamed of so great an honor and that he was far too old and ugly for so fair a lady. But he begged the king to stay with him until he could send for the Prince of Nekabad, who was a most excellent, brave and honorable young man who would surely be delighted to try and win the hand of the beautiful princess.

To this the king agreed, and Wali Dâd sent the merchant off to Nekabad with a number of attendants and with such handsome presents that the prince came at once, fell head over ears in love with the princess, and married her in Wali Dâd’s palace amidst great rejoicing.

Then the King of Khaistân and the Prince and Princess of Nekabad went back to their own lands, and Wali Dâd lived to a good old age, befriending all who were in trouble. In spite of his prosperity, he preserved to the end the simple-hearted and generous nature that he had when he was only Wali Dâd, the old bald grass cutter.