Some of the doings of Shekh Farid

Once there was a Raja called Hamansa Raja. He had a son, named Gursan
Raja, who married Khelapari Rani, the daughter of Gulabsa Raja. After
the wedding Gursan Raja brought her home to his father's house.

One day Gursan Raja came home from hunting, very very tired and
thirsty. It was about twelve or one o'clock in the day. He asked
Khelapari Rani to fetch him some water, and while she went for it he
fell asleep. When she came back she found him still sleeping, and
because he was so tired he slept all the afternoon and all night, and
never woke till the next morning. His wife stood by him all the time
holding the water in a brass cup. When he woke and found she had stood
there all the afternoon and all night he was very sorry, and asked God
to forgive him, and to give his wife whatever she wished for, no
matter what it might be. So Khelapari wished that whatever happened in
any country, she might know of it at once of herself without any one
telling her, no matter how far away the country might be.

One day Khelapari Rani went to draw water from the tank, and by the
tank sat an old man, the fakir Shekh Farid. He said to the Rani, "Give
me a little water to drink." "I will," she said, "only drink it
quickly, for my father's house is on fire, and I am going to put it
out." "How far off is your father's country?" asked Shekh Farid.
"About twenty miles," answered Khelapari. "Then how can you know his
house is on fire!" said Shekh Farid; "I have been a fakir for twelve
years, and for twelve years neither ate nor drank, and yet I do not
know what happens twenty miles away." "But I know," she answered.
"Leave your water-jar here," he said, "and go and see if the house
really is on fire, and I will not drink till you return to me."

So off went Khelapari Rani to her father's country, and when she got
there his house was burning, and she stayed till the fire was put out,
and then returned to the tank where she left the fakir. "Is it true,"
he asked, "that your father's house was on fire?" "Quite true," she
answered. The fakir wondered. "How could she know it when the fire was
twenty miles off?" he said to himself, and he determined to go to
Gulabsa Raja's country to see if the Rani had told him the truth.

He went by a roundabout road, as he did not know the way, so it took
him three or four days to get there. When he did, he asked some
villagers if there had been a fire at their Raja's house. "Yes, a few
days ago there was," they answered. So the fakir, still more
astonished, decided he would go back to Hamansa Raja's palace and ask
Khelapari Rani how it came to pass that she was wiser than Shekh
Farid.

As he was returning, he met a bullock-cart laden with bags of sugar,
and he asked the driver what the bags contained. The driver was put
out because his bullocks would not go on quickly, and he was tired
with beating and goading them, so he said crossly, "It's ashes."
"Good," said Shekh Farid, "let it be ashes." When the cartman got to
the bazar, and went to make over the sugar to the merchant who had
sent him for it, he found all his bags full of ashes, nothing but
ashes. He was in a great state of mind, for a good deal of money had
been paid for the sugar, and he was a poor man. So he went back to
Shekh Farid and fell down at his feet, saying, "I am a poor, poor
man. My sugar is turned to ashes. Do make the ashes sugar again."
"Good," said the fakir; "go home, and you will find sugar, and next
time you are asked what you have in your cart, tell the truth and not
lies." The cartman went home, and when he saw his sugar was sugar once
more, and no longer ashes, he was very, very glad.

One of his brother-villagers thought, "How pleasant it would be to
become a fakir and do such things myself! I will go to this fakir and
learn from him to be a fakir too." So he went after Shekh Farid and
found him walking along the road, and he followed him. Now Shekh Farid
knew at once what this man wanted, so as they passed a heap of clay
bricks, he said, "O God, let it be thy pleasure to give me power to
turn these clay bricks into gold." Instantly they became gold, and
Shekh Farid walked on; but the villager took up two of the bricks and
put one under each arm, and then followed the fakir. Suddenly Shekh
Farid turned round, and said to him, "You have two clay bricks under
your arms." The man looked, saw it was true, and threw them away. Then
Shekh Farid said to him, "You steal bricks, and yet wish to be a
fakir?" The man was ashamed, and went back to his village.

Shekh Farid continued his journey and got to Hamansa Raja's country;
but when he got there he found Khelapari had gone to another country
for a little while, so he never saw her, nor found out how it was that
she knew what happened twenty miles off.

In a jungle in Hamansa Raja's country he met a man, called
Fakir-achand, and his wife, who were very poor. They were going to
bury their only son, and were crying bitterly. Shekh Farid asked them,
"Would you like your son to be alive again?" "Yes," they said. "Will
you give him to me, and I will bring him to life, and then he shall
return to you?" said Shekh Farid. "Yes," they answered, and gave him
their dead son, and went to their home.

The fakir carried the dead boy, who was called Mohandas, a little
further on, and then laid him on the ground, and struck him with a
long thin bamboo wand he carried in his hand. The boy stood up. Shekh
Farid asked him, "Would you like to go home to your father and mother,
or to stay with me?" "To stay with you," said Mohandas. (Had he wished
to go home, the fakir would have been very angry.) "Then," said Shekh
Farid, "I will call your mother here." He did so, and when she came,
he said to her, "See, here is your son alive. Will you give him to me
for twelve years?" The woman said, "Yes," and went home. The fakir
gave her and her husband a quantity of rupees and built them a
beautiful house. Then he and Mohandas set out on their travels, and
wandered about the jungles for one whole year, till they came to a
country full of large splendid gardens belonging to a very rich Raja,
called Dumkas Raja.

This Raja had a beautiful daughter, Champakali Rani. She had lovely
golden hair, golden eyebrows, golden eyelashes, blue eyes, and her
skin was transparent. In Dumkas Raja's country they had never seen a
fakir, so when Shekh Farid and Mohandas arrived, the Raja sent to
them, and asked Shekh Farid to come to talk to him. "No," said the
fakir, "I will not go to the Raja: if the Raja wants me, he must come
to me."

Dumkas Raja was very angry when his messengers returned with this
answer, and he ordered Shekh Farid to leave his country immediately;
but the fakir said he would not go until he had married his adopted
son, Mohandas, to Champakali Rani. The people all laughed at him for
saying this, and declared such a marriage would never take place.
However, the fakir and Mohandas walked about and saw the town, and
looked at everything, and everybody stared at them. Then they went to
live on the border of Dumkas Raja's country, and lived there for some
time.

One day Shekh Farid bought Mohandas a beautiful horse and fine clothes
such as Rajas wear, and told the boy to ride about the fields and high
roads. He also told him not to speak to any one unless they spoke to
him. Mohandas promised to do as he was bid. As he was riding along, he
met the Princess Champakali, who was also riding. She asked him who he
was. "A Raja's son," he said. "What Raja?" asked Champakali. "Never
mind what Raja," said Mohandas. The princess then went home, and so
did Mohandas; but every day after this they met and talked together,
and the princess fell very much in love with Mohandas.

At last she said to her father, "I wish to marry a young man who rides
about on the border-land every day, and is very handsome." The Raja
consented, for it was time his daughter was married, and now no Raja
from another country would come to marry her, as the demons who
guarded the princess swallowed all her suitors at one gulp, and had
already swallowed many Rajas who had come on this errand.

Shekh Farid said to Mohandas, "Now go up to the palace, and claim the
princess for your wife." "If I do," said Mohandas, "the demons will
swallow me." "I will not let them swallow you," said Shekh Farid. So
Mohandas consented and set off for the palace, Shekh Farid following
him. When Mohandas came to the demons, they were going to swallow him;
but the fakir, who had his sword in his hand, killed them all, and as
he did so, the Rajas and princes who had come as suitors to the
Princess Champakali, and had therefore been swallowed by the demons,
all came jumping out of the demons' stomachs and ran off in all
directions as hard as they could, from fear not knowing where they
went.

Mohandas was greatly frightened at all this; but Shekh Farid explained
everything to him, so he went on to the palace, and the fakir went
too. There Mohandas asked Dumkas Raja to give him his daughter as his
wife, and the Raja consented. So he was married to Champakali Rani,
and her father gave them a great many elephants, and horses, and
camels, and a great deal of money and many jewels. And Mohandas and
his wife set off with the fakir to his father Fakir-achand's house,
and they took all the elephants, camels, horses, money and jewels with
them. On the way Mohandas told Champakali Rani that he was not a great
Raja's son, but the son of poor people. Champakali's heart was very
sad at this; however, she was not angry, only sorry.

When they reached Hamansa Raja's country, and had come to
Fakir-achand's house, the fakir said to Mohandas's mother, "See, you
lent me one child, and I have brought you back two children. Does this
please you?" "Indeed it does please me," she answered; "I am very
happy."

They built a beautiful palace and all lived in it together. The mother
begged Shekh Farid to stay with them, saying, "Only stay with us; I
will give you a bungalow, and you shall have everything you want." But
Shekh Farid said, "I am a fakir, and so cannot stay with you, as I may
never stay in one place, and must, instead, wander from country to
country and from jungle to jungle." So he said good-bye to them and
went on his wanderings, and never returned to them.

Mohandas, his wife, and his father and mother, all lived happily
together.