written by
Amar Vyas

The King Who Tried to Conquer Fate

Parikatha 6 min read

Introduction

This story, originally titled The Story of the King Who Would Be Stronger Than Fate, was sourced from the book Andrew Liang's Fairy Books. Parts of this story have been edited Amar Vyas for brevity, language and context. This story is produced by Gaatha Story for the Myths, Legends and Fairytales of India Podcast, and narrated by Sheerali Biju.

The Story is as follows

Once upon a time in a land far away to the east, there lived a king.

His name was Anangpal. He who loved hunting so much that, when once there was a deer in sight, he would become careless of his own safety, and chase the deer till he had claimed his prize. Indeed, he often became quite separated from his nobles and attendants, and in fact was particularly fond of lonely adventures. Another of his favourite amusements was to declare that he was not well, and could not be seen. Then, with the knowledge only of his faithful minister, he would disguise himself as a peddler, load a donkey with cheap wares, and travel about. In this way he found out what the common people said about him, and how his judges and governors fulfilled their duties.

One day his Queen presented him with a baby daughter as beautiful as the dawn, and Anangpal was so happy and delighted that, for a whole week, he forgot to hunt, and spent the time in public and private rejoicing. But his joy was short lived because the Queen died in a few weeks' time. He was saddened by the loss of his dear queen, and in her remembrance, he named his daughter Bala.

Not long afterwards, however, he went out after some deer which were to be found in a far corner of his forests, leaving the princess with the wife of one of his trusted ministers. The minister's wife, who name was Jyoti, looked after the young Princess Bala as if she were her own daughter.

Excerpt from the story

Anangpal's hunting dogs began barking in the direction of a dense bush.The barking of the dogs disturbed a beautiful snow white stag.

Anangpal determined that he would have it at any cost. So he put the spurs to his horse, and followed the deer as hard as he could gallop. All this was very discouraging, but Anangpal would not have minded if he had not lost that beautiful stag.

That troubled him a good deal, but he never worried over what he could not help.

So he got down from his horse, slipped his arm through the bridle.

Then, he led the animal along the rough path in hopes of discovering some shepherd's hut.The hermit threw two leaves in at a time, and watched them attentively.

'What are you doing?' asked Anangpal at last, and the hermit replied that he was reading the fates of men.

Every one's fate, he said, was settled from the beginning, and, whatever it were, there was no escape from it. King Anangpal wrote a letter to the King of the land of the north.

He begged him, as a favour, to sell him his slave girl Puruna and her son.

For five days he waited for the reply, and hardly slept or ate, but was as grumpy and anxious as one could be.

On the sixth day his messenger returned with a letter.

"you mist come up with some excuse to account for my absence," he said to the minister.

Next, he disguised himself as an ordinary messenger, mounted a swift camel, and sped away to the place where the slave girl was to be handed over to him.

Although his anger made him cruel enough for anything so dreadful, Anangpal felt that he could not turn his great sword on the helpless baby.

So he left it in the cave where it was, and, mounting his camel, rode home as fast as he could.

One evening the Lata was astonished to find that her very best nanny-goat had not returned.

Lata followed the goat into the cave and, what did she see?

The goat was animal giving her milk to a little boy-baby.

On the ground near by lay the sad remains of w woman, who was probably the baby's dead mother.

Neel saw a strange donkey eating the cabbages in the garden which surround their little cottage.

Seizing a big stick, he began to chase the intruder and drove him out of his garden.

The next morning, the peddler packed his wares and left without informing anybody.

A few days later, two men appeared in the village inquiring who had threatened to ill-treat and to murder an innocent peddler.

Of course they soon found out about the donkey who had eaten Neel's cabbages.

They soon found Neel and handcuffed him.

The lad assured them that he had never said anything about murdering anyone.

The two guards replied that they were ordered to arrest him, and bring him to take his trial before King Anangpal.

So, in spite of his protests, and the wails of his mother, he was carried off.

It is easy to guess how, as the story came out, Anangpal looked blacker and blacker, and more and more grim, until at last he was half fainting with rage and astonishment.

This,

Neel, to his own great delight, was duly enrolled in Anangpal's army.

He was rather surprised, but also much pleased, to find that he was always one of those chosen when any difficult or dangerous enterprise was to be carried out.

As he was also modest and generous, he became a favourite with his officers and his comrades.

Neel was selected to be one of the soldiers to escort King Anangpal through the city.

One day a man rushed out of an alley straight towards the King.

Neel, who was the nearest of the guards, threw himself in the way.

Officers of the bodyguard were often sent on all sorts of secret and difficult errands.

Neel began to think that, somewhere or other, he had made an enemy.

But he was light-hearted and the thought that his life was in danger did not much trouble him.

A bird entered the room fro an open window and sat near Neel.

The kind-hearted young man picked out a piece of bread, and threw it for the bird to eat.

The bird pounced upon it, and gulped it down greedily.

All of a sudden, it staggered, fell, rolled over, and died.

Neel gathered up the rest of his dinner and carefully wrapped it.

Then, he carried it away and buried it in the palace gardens.

Neel and Bala have to meet for the hermit's prophecy to be true, isn't it?

It happened that, a few days prior, the princess Bala had been sent away another remote province.

She had fallen ill and the royal physician had ordered her to rest in the hills.

The weather was very hot; but Neel thought that the sooner his precious letter was delivered the better.

He rode by the night and rested only in the hottest part of the day.

He found himself, by noon on the third day, approaching the town which was his final destination.

The sun was blazing and not a soul was to be seen anywhere.

Neel, stiff, dry, thirsty, and tired, looked longingly over the wall into the gardens.

He noticed the fountains, the green grass, the shady apricot orchards, and giant mulberry trees.

Every day, through the heat of the afternoon, the governor, and his wife also, used to lie down for two or three hours in their own rooms.

But the princess Bala, like many other girls, was restless, and preferred to wander about the garden, rather than rest on a pile of soft cushions.

The lovely princess Bala lived such an idle life that she had plenty of time to be curious.

Out of one of the folds of this young man's turban, there peeped the corner of a letter.

She wondered what the letter was and whom it was for.

All at once she remembered that the poor officer would be put to death if he lost the letter.