On some evenings the night sky above the Nicobar Islands becomes unusually clear. The sea grows quiet. The wind settles down. And the moon rises slowly over the water.
If you look at it long enough, you notice something interesting.
Its surface is not perfectly bright. There are darker shapes scattered across it.
Today most people know these shapes are natural formations — the familiar dark spots on the moon. Scientists can explain them quite easily. But many generations ago, people didn’t have telescopes or astronomy books. When they saw something mysterious in the sky, they did what people everywhere tend to do.
They told stories.
Over time these stories became part of the many moon myths and legends shared around the world.
The Nicobar Islands have one of their own.
According to local tradition, the shapes people see on the dark side of the moon are connected to a girl who once climbed farther than anyone thought possible.
Long ago, in a small village on Car Nicobar, there lived a widow and her four daughters. Life was modest but steady. Everyone helped with the work of the household.
The youngest child was a baby named To-mi-rock — a name that meant Beauty. The three older girls were already helping their mother with daily chores. To-ken was known for being patient and hardworking. To-pet-nagen preferred quiet tasks and rarely argued with anyone. The third sister, Va-mi-ro, loved to talk and laugh. She also loved telling stories. Work, however, did not interest her nearly as much.
Not far from their home lay the family’s small garden.
During the warm months weeds grew quickly there. If no one removed them, the plants would soon disappear under a thick layer of green.
One morning their mother asked the three older girls to go to the garden and clear the weeds while she stayed behind with the baby.
The sisters left early and began working while the air was still cool.
For a while everything went well.
But as the sun climbed higher, the heat settled heavily over the garden. Va-mi-ro soon grew tired of pulling weeds. She wandered toward a nearby tree and sat down beneath its shade.
A moment later she climbed up into its branches.
From there she could see the entire garden — and she no longer had to work.
Down below, To-ken and To-pet-nagen continued their task. They bent over the soil, pulling weeds and stacking them in small piles. Every now and then they looked up.
“Va-mi-ro,” they called, “come help us.”
But their sister simply swung her legs from the branch and pretended not to hear.
The afternoon passed slowly.
Eventually the sun began to dip toward the sea. The two hardworking sisters gathered their tools and prepared to head home.
At that moment Va-mi-ro jumped down from the tree.
Before leaving, she quickly rubbed loose soil across her clothes and arms so it appeared she had been working all day.
Then she hurried home ahead of the others.
When she reached the house, she told their mother something very different from what had actually happened. According to her, she alone had cleared the weeds while her sisters had spent the entire day playing.
Their mother believed her immediately.
By the time To-ken and To-pet-nagen arrived — dusty, tired, and hungry — their mother was already angry.
She barely spoke to them. Instead she placed a small portion of food in front of them and watched while they ate.
When they finished, she said something that hurt them deeply. The meal they had eaten, she explained, had actually been meant for animals.
The sisters understood at once.
Their jealous sister had turned their mother against them.
No explanation seemed to change her mind.
That night the house grew quiet. Outside, the village slept. But the two girls remained awake, whispering softly to one another.
Eventually they made a difficult decision.
They would leave.
Before sunrise they packed their few belongings and slipped outside. It was the beginning of their running away from home, though they had no clear destination yet.
They only knew they could not stay.
At first they tried climbing a long forest creeper called To-a-nqu-O. But the vine snapped the moment they pulled themselves upward.
Then To-ken noticed something unexpected — a spider’s web stretching high into the air.
It looked delicate. Still, she reached out and grasped it carefully.
Then she began to climb.
To-pet-nagen followed behind.
Slowly they moved upward. Inch by inch the island below them grew smaller. The sea blurred into the distance.
Partway up they suddenly remembered something important. They had forgotten their small basket made from ra-foh leaves.
To-ken asked her sister to go back and fetch it.
Reluctantly To-pet-nagen climbed down.
Unfortunately their mother caught her there and soon discovered what the sisters had tried to do.
Furious, she rushed out to stop the other girl.
She found To-ken still climbing the web high above the ground.
“Come down!” she shouted.
But To-ken refused.
The widow climbed high enough to grab her daughter’s foot and began pulling her downward.
For a moment it seemed she might succeed.
Then To-ken kicked free.
Without looking back, she climbed upward as fast as she could until she reached the glowing world above.
Exhausted from the long climb, she lay down and rested her head upon the small box she had carried.
People still look up today and wonder about the shapes scattered across the moon. Science explains why there are dark patches on the moon, of course.
But in the Nicobar Islands another explanation remains.
According to local moon folklore, the quiet shadow in the sky is the resting figure of To-ken — the girl who climbed away from sorrow.
And so, among the many stories about the moon told across the world, this gentle island tale continues to survive.
Like many old moon myths, it reminds listeners that courage can sometimes carry a person farther than anyone expects.
Sometimes very far.
Even into the sky.
If You Liked This Folk Tale…
If stories like this one spark your curiosity, you might also enjoy another fascinating legend from southern India. Our previous post explores the story of Perunthachan, the legendary master craftsman of Kerala whose brilliance shaped some of the region’s most remarkable temples and buildings. Like many traditional tales, it blends history, imagination, and cultural wisdom in a way that has captivated listeners for generations. If you’d like to discover another memorable piece of Indian folklore, take a moment to read this Malayali folk tale about the genius architect Perunthachan.
Kalai is passionate about reading and reinterpreting folk tales from all over the country. Write to her at kalai.muse@gmail.com to know more about her.
Folk tale adapted and abridged from Folk Tales of Nicobar by Rabin Roychowdhury.