A long time ago, there lived a Brahmin couple, Jayanath and Jayamala, at the foot of the Bhutan hills. Jayanath was a priest who performed Durga pooja, Lakshmi pooja, Kali pooja, Upanayana, marriage rituals, and other sacred rites for a living. His wife Jayamala would spin the sacred thread on her spinning wheel. The Brahmins living in the nearby villages bought the sacred thread from her.
Whatever the couple earned was sufficient for their daily needs. They even kept food aside to feed birds and animals like deer, pigs, goats, and cows. Occasionally, wild elephants, too, showed up to demand their share of food.
These wild animals and birds often brought them plantains, mangoes, jackfruit, oranges, and pinapples. Jayamala treated these animals affectionately. She was also a very loving wife.
Their life took a turn when Jayanath went to conduct the last rites of a wealthy Brahmin in his village. The wealthy Brahmin had a daughter who, aside from being ugly, was also lazy, spoiled, and selfish. The Brahmin’s widow forced Jayanath to marry her daughter. Jayanath initially refused out of his love for Jayamala. However, he readily agreed when he learned that the girl would inherit the massive estate of her deceased father.
Jayanath married the rich girl and took her home, much to the disappointment of Jayamala. With tears in her eyes, she rushed back into the hut. The now rich Brahmin built a three-story mansion beside the hut and began leading a lavish life with many servants and maids. Alone in the hut, a heartbroken Jayamala watched Jayanath and his new wife in the mansion every day.
Every day, she brought water from the river and spun the gold Jhari for her husband. She met Jayanath only when she handed over the gold Jhari to him. At the end of the day, maids would bring her some rice on a brass plate. But she ate only the fruit the wild animals had brought her, not even eating a morsel of the rice from her husband’s mansion.
She walked over to the river carrying the rice plate in one hand, the gold Jhari in the other, and the copper pitcher on top of her head. She shared the rice with hungry birds and animals. Every day, she would sit on the riverbank and cry silently thinking about her pitiful life. Tears would roll down her cheeks, into the flowing river water and made it salty.
One day, the elephant king came by with his herd to drink water from the river upstream. The river water tasted saltier as he walked downstream. He asked one of his subjects as to why the water tasted that way. When he learned that the water’s salty taste was down to Jayamala’s tears, he walked through the water to get to her.
Carrying the copper pitcher and gold Jhari, Jayamala was about to go back home. The elephant king stopped her and asked her to join the herd as its queen. Jayamala was initially reluctant. However, a flash flood swept her hut, along with the other houses in the village.
Jayamala had no idea as to how react to this sudden twist. As she stood shocked, the elephant king gracefully lifted and carried her on his back. The herd walked for seven days and nights through thick forests of sal and pine, bamboo thickets, and betel nut groves. The sweet smell of wild roses permeated the woods.
After seven days, the herd reached the elephant kingdom at the foot of the Bhutan hills. The elephant king placed Jayamala on the ivory throne inside the palace. She resembled a golden doll on the white ivory throne. All elephants in the herd trumpeted and praised her.
Once again, the elephant king carried her to the waterfall accompanied by the herd. The waterfall rolled down in seven streams, in seven colors. The elephant king filled the water from the seven streams in seven jars and poured it on Jayamala’s head. And that’s when she transformed into a young female elephant.
The copper pitch on Jayamala’s head turned into an elevation on her forehead and the gold jhari into her trunk. The elephant king announced they would serve her and that her wish would be their command. Jayamala, the queen elephant, led her herd to the elephant land.
Even today, in the Goalpara district of Assam, every elephant herd is led by a female elephant.
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 adopted and abridged from Internet Archive.