A story and a song

A housewife knew a story, and she also knew a song. But she kept them to herself, and never told anyone the story or sang the song.

Imprisoned within her, the story and the song felt choked. They wanted release, wanted to run away. One day, while she slept with her mouth open, the story escaped, fell out of her, took the shape of a pair of shoes, and sat outside the house. The song escaped too, took the shape of something like a man’s coat, and hung itself on a peg.

The woman’s husband came home, looked at the coat and shoes, and asked her, “Who is visiting?”

“No one,” she said.

“But whose coat and shoes are these?”

“I don’t know,” she replied.

He wasn’t satisfied with her answers. He was suspicious. Their conversation grew unpleasant, and it led to a quarrel. The husband flew into a rage, picked up his blanket, and went to the monkey god’s (Hanuman ji’s) temple to sleep.

The woman didn’t understand what was happening. She lay down alone that night, asking the same question over and over: “Whose coat and shoes are these?” Baffled and unhappy, she put out the lamp and went to sleep.

All the lamp flames of the town, once they were put out, used to come to the monkey god’s temple and spend the night there, gossiping. On this night, the lamps of all the houses were gathered — all except one, which came late.

The others asked the latecomer, “Why are you so late tonight?”

“At our house, the couple quarrelled late into the night,” said the flame.

“Why did they quarrel?”

“When the husband wasn’t home, a pair of shoes appeared on the verandah, and a man’s coat somehow got onto the peg. The husband asked whose they were. The wife said she didn’t know. So they quarrelled.”

“But where did the coat and shoes come from?”

“The lady of our house knows a story and a song. She has never told the story to anyone and never sung the song. Suffocated inside her, the story and the song slipped out and turned into a pair of shoes and a coat. They took their revenge — and the woman doesn’t even know.”

The husband, lying under his blanket in the temple, heard the lamp’s explanation. His suspicions were cleared. When he went home, it was dawn. He asked his wife about her story and her song. But she had forgotten both. “What story? What song?” she said.