Long, long ago, a poor Brahman named Soda Ram lived with his wife in Kashmir. Poverty sat heavily on their little household. His wife hated their empty cupboards and shabby clothes, and whenever disappointment got the better of her, she turned on her husband.
Soda Ram finally decided to try his luck elsewhere. A king in a faraway land, people said, never sent a poor man home empty-handed. He packed enough food for the road and left.
Partway through the journey, he stopped beside a spring. While he rested, a serpent crawled into his bag. Soda Ram noticed it, but he did not move. A dark idea had come to him. He would take the serpent home and give the bag to his wife. With luck, the creature would bite her.
His wife opened the supposed gift the moment he returned. Out came the serpent. She shrieked and stumbled backward, expecting it to strike. Instead, the snake changed into a baby.
Whatever Soda Ram had expected, it certainly was not this.
The couple kept the child and called him Nagrai. His presence brought an astonishing change to their fortunes. They no longer worried about their next meal, and comfort gradually found its way into a home that had known only want.
Nagrai grew into a remarkably handsome young man. He looked human, but he belonged to the hidden world beneath the water. He was a Naga prince, and serpents recognized him as their king.
One day, he asked Soda Ram about the purest spring in the country. Soda Ram knew of one in Princess Himal’s garden, though royal guards kept everyone else away from it.
Nagrai took the shape of a snake and slipped through a gap in the garden wall. Once beside the spring, he became a man again and stepped into the water. He managed to come and go without trouble at first. Then Himal saw him.
She watched the stranger turn into a serpent and followed him as far as Soda Ram’s house. The secret did not lessen her feelings. She had found true love, or so her heart told her, and she announced that she would marry Nagrai and no one else.
Her father argued, pleaded, and suggested worthier husbands. Himal rejected them all. In the end, the king had to consent.
The approaching wedding filled Soda Ram with dread. He could already picture himself standing among courtiers in his poor clothes. Nagrai gave him a short message written on birch bark and asked him to throw it into a nearby spring.
Soda Ram did as instructed. By the time he returned, a palace stood where his hut had been. Musicians crowded the streets, richly dressed guests arrived from every direction, and an entire city seemed ready to celebrate. For Soda Ram, it must have looked as though love conquers all obstacles overnight.
Himal and Nagrai married, but their happiness rested on a secret. Nagrai already had wives in the serpent world.
Those wives soon came searching for him. One took human form and said just enough to make Himal question her husband. Another appeared as a cobbler woman and told her how to test him. If Nagrai entered a spring of milk and sank, Himal would learn who he really was.
Nagrai urged her not to listen. Himal insisted. Trust in a relationship may take years to grow, while doubt in a relationship needs only one well-placed whisper.
As soon as Nagrai entered the milky spring, unseen hands pulled him downward. Himal tried to hold on, but his serpent wives dragged him away.
She never forgave herself. One by one, she gave her possessions to the poor until only a golden mortar and pestle remained. Then an old man mentioned a spring where a magnificent king appeared from time to time. Himal asked him to take her there.
She found Nagrai beside the water and begged to go with him. He warned her about his wives, but she would not accept another separation. So he changed her into a pebble, tucked her into his turban, and carried her into his world.
The serpent wives discovered Himal soon enough. They promised to leave her unharmed, although jealousy still gnawed at them. Trouble came in the kitchen, where an accident killed their children. The mothers blamed Himal and killed her in revenge. Such are the consequences of jealousy when hurt turns into cruelty. Jealousy in relationships had first stolen Nagrai from Himal; now it had stolen Himal from him.
Nagrai refused to burn her body. He preserved it and hid it in a place known only to him. A holy man found Himal there, took pity on her, and restored her life.
Before long, Nagrai tracked her to the holy man’s house. He entered her room in serpent form and curled up near the bed. The holy man’s son saw the snake and killed it, never guessing whom he had struck.
When Himal awoke, she found Nagrai dead beside her. Having lost him yet again, she entered his funeral pyre. It was a final act of unconditional love and sacrifice.
The holy man grieved for them both. Then he overheard two birds reveal a secret: if he cast the lovers’ ashes into the spring, the water would return them to life.
He carried the ashes there and scattered them. Himal and Nagrai rose from the water in human form, alive and together.
The spring offered them a second chance at love, not by erasing what had happened, but by bringing their long season of overcoming grief to an end. Their tale has endured as one of eternal love, a love beyond death itself. After so many losses and returns, Himal and Nagrai leave us with a simple thought: love is stronger than death.
If You Liked This Folk Tale…
If the enduring bond between Himal and Nagrai stayed with you, meet another unlikely hero who refuses to let death have the final word. In the Punjabi folk tale Little Anklebone, a tiny shepherd’s music lives on after him, drawing animals, birds, and wandering people together beside a pond of milk. Discover how music brings us together in this unusual tale of courage, resilience, and a song that even death cannot silence.
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 Kashmiri Pandit Network.