Renchang Changte

by Anonymous

This is a story of the time when the Purum Chothes lived at Leimatak. Among them was a happy and a loving couple. Unfortunately, happiness was not to be theirs for long. The wife died while giving birth to their first child. The baby, however, survived the ordeal. The man raised his baby with all he could do. But to look after a young life whose eyes the colours of the world had just entered was not an easy task for him. So, he married again. His new wife was a good woman and a good mother.

By the end of the first year of their marriage, the second wife gave birth to a baby boy. The man loved his two children equally. But as soon as the boy was born she became a bad stepmother for the girl. She pretended to be as loving to the girl as her own boy as long as her husband was at home. But from the moment he went away, she treated the girl badly. The little girl was not fed properly so that she became thinner and thinner until at last it seemed like she was suffering from a terrible disease. The girl never complained to her father. So he knew nothing about it although he was very worried about her.

Some years had passed and the little girl became big enough to go out and play with her friends, and sometimes to go with his father to the farm.

In the neighbourhood there was another girl who was of the same age as her. They were good friends. But this girl’s family was very poor. They could barely make ends meet. The girl was always at home weaving to help her parents.

She saw and knew how her best friend was being treated badly by her stepmother. She called her often and shared whatever little she had to eat. Sometimes they told about each other’s fate and cried over them.

It was the month of Mera and the hillslopes were golden yellow with ripe paddy. The man left for his farm and left his two children to the care of his wife. He spent days and nights at his farm-hut preparing for the harvest. Everyday his wife brought him food. One day he caught a bird and gave it to his wife to feed their children. At home she cooked the bird and ate all of it by herself with her son. She cooked a cycas fruit with heiboong and gave it to the girl saying that it was the bird. It was so sour that she couldn’t eat it. But since she didn’t know how a bird tasted like, she simply said, “The bird is very sour, I won’t eat it.”

The next day the girl brought food for her father. At the farm she heard the cry of a bird which, incidentally, was the same type as the one caught the other day by her father. Looking towards the bird she said, “Oh bird! Your meat is sour, I won’t eat you.” Hearing this, her father asked why she was saying like that. “The bird that appa gave yesterday was very sour,” she answered. He had heard people say about the maltreatment towards his daughter by his wife. He couldn’t but believe them now after listening to what his daughter just said.

He took his daughter on his back and with tears in his eyes he sang:

Oh hairy cycas of Leimatak,
So alike you are with the bird’s flesh,
What powerful hand had shaped you?

That day he caught another bird and it was cooked at the farm and the girl ate to her full. “It was sour when ima cooked, but it’s tasty when appa cooked,” said the girl. The father was pleased to see her daughter happy. After that day he cooked every bird that he caught at the farm and fed his daughter whenever she came to there.

The sun drifted more towards the southern hemisphere and all harvest was done. He filled his granary with sufficient grains for the whole year and set off to sell whatever was left. He would then buy clothes and other things with the money. Before he went, he called his daughter and said, “This year you will have the best clothes for the festivals. I am going to buy them for you. Till then you stay with your mother. After this, I’ll always be with you.” She was very happy to hear about the new cloths that she was going to have. But, again she thought of her poor friend next door. How was she going to wear that in front of her?

Once her father was gone, her stepmother started scolding and beating her everyday. She made her do strenuous works and she wasn’t given enough to eat. The little girl couldn’t bear the maltreatment anymore. Every now and then she went to her friend and cried. Her poor friend would share her food, but every time she said that she had taken her food and ran away. Few more days passed. The little girl became thinner and thinner again.

One day she came to her poor friend and said, “Eeta, please let me hide in your place until my father comes back. I will not eat anything till then. You tell all my story to him when he returns, but don’t tell anything to anybody.”

Her poor friend could not do anything but agree with her. Having thus taken a promise from her trusted friend, she stayed without eating or drinking. On the fifth day of her hiding she turned into a cicada. She told her friend, “Eeta, I don’t want to be a human anymore. I’m flying away to freedom as a cicada. I’ll be living in the nearby trees till the time my father comes back. Tell him to call me when he wants to see me and I’ll come.” Saying these she flew away. Her friend looked at her direction and was left standing there for a long time crying.

Few more days passed and the father returned with clothes and jewels for his children. When he couldn’t find his daughter, the stepmother told him many lies to save herself. “Your daughter was never at home since you went. She has not returned for the last six-seven days. No one knows with whom she has ran away,” and she pretended to cry.

He didn’t believe her story. But when he saw her crying he couldn’t stop thinking if there was any truth in what she said. He went out alone and asked the villagers about his daughter. No one knew, although some said that they saw her few days back. She didn’t have any close friend that he knew of to whom he could ask. At last he came to the poor girl next door who was always weaving. She told him all about his daughter. Then he started crying loudly. The girl said, “If you want to see her, call her by saying that you have returned. She must be waiting for you in the nearby trees.”

The father cried and called out her daughter’s name and ran around the nearby bushes and trees like a mad man. His daughter came flying in the form of a cicada and sat on his palm, and said, “Appa, I don’t want to live among humans any more. I’ll live freely and fly wherever I like. Please give the clothes and the jewels you bought for me to my eeta who has been there for me during my time of sorrow. Every year I’ll come to your farm and call you during the months of Mera and Langban.”

The man gave away the new clothes to his daughter’s friend. He then said, “My dear, since your don’t want to live with us, go where your heart takes you. Take this chain so that I can know you are my daughter.” He put a thread with a small iron ball around the neck of the cicada.

He continued, “I will be waiting for you to hear your voice every year.”

Then he let her fly away.

It is still believed that the cicada comes every year in the months of Mera and Langban and calls for her father.

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