A long time ago, in a village in northern India, in Punjab, there lived two sisters - Motho and Mungo.
- Shouldn't we go and see our father? - Motho once said to her sister.
- Well, here we go again, to another village! - answered Mungo. - Go if you want, but I’d better rest.
Motho did not answer her sister.
And the next day at dawn I set off. We had to hurry to get to my father before the heat of the day and return home in the evening.
It was good to go early; the sun had not yet risen, but the East was gilded. But then Motho noticed a plum tree near the road. It pulled its branches towards her, as if begging for something.
- Oh, Motho, help me! - said the tree. - Sharp thorns painfully pierced my trunk. Take them out quickly!
“Poor tree,” said Motho and immediately got to work.
There were a lot of thorns, and when Motho, having cleared the tree of them, set off again, the sun was already sending its first rays to the earth.
Motho walked even faster to reach her father before the heat of the day. But I saw a fire by the road that was barely smoldering.
- Help me, Motho! - asked the fire. “I’m completely covered in ashes, and I’ll soon go out.”
- Poor fire! — Motho took pity on him and carefully removed the ashes from the smoldering coals. Then she threw dry branches into the fire, and it burst into flames.
Meanwhile the sun rose high. It became increasingly difficult to walk. Motho's throat was completely dry from the heat. A stream crossed the road. She leaned towards him to refresh her face, when suddenly the stream spoke:
“Darling, Motho, clear my riverbed, otherwise I’ll dry up completely!”
- Poor stream! - Motkho was upset. She sat down on the bank of the stream and began to remove leaves and branches from it. The sun was already at its zenith when the transparent water flowed and murmured merrily. cold water. Motho drank, washed and hit the road again.
Finally she reached the hut where her father lived. Motho was very tired, but did not rest, but immediately got down to business. She washed the old father's feet, cleaned the house, baked millet cakes, cooked rice and fed her father.
When Motho got ready to go back, her father gave her a buffalo, a bed, a spindle, copper pots and other things that peasants always give to girls as a dowry. Motho thanked her father, loaded her things onto the buffalo and went home.
She reached the stream and saw: a thin, beautiful fabric swaying on the water, glistening, shimmering with bright colors.
“Take it, Motho,” the stream gurgles. “I wove it for you from foam, sun glare, flowers and leaves.”
Motho was delighted with such a wonderful gift, took the cloth, thanked the stream and moved on.
The fire was burning brightly when Motho approached it. A freshly baked pie lay on a banana leaf by the fire. The fire crackled cheerfully:
- Take it, Motho! I baked this cake for you.
Motho thanked him and willingly took the pie. She was very hungry, but she divided the pie in half. “I’ll leave one half to my sister, and I’ll eat the other now,” she thought.
It was getting dark. Motho had to hurry home. But she was stopped by a plum tree. It bowed its branches with heavy fruits:
- Take the drain, Motho. They will quench your thirst.
Motho stretched out the edge of his blanket. The tree shook its branches, and large ripe plums fell from them.
- Thank you, tree. - said Motho, ate several plums, and wrapped the rest in a blanket for her sister.
Finally Motho returned home. First of all, she unloaded the buffalo, gave him water and took him to the stall. Then she treated Mungo to pie and plums and showed her gifts.
But Mungo was not at all happy for her sister, but on the contrary, she was furious with envy.
“Tomorrow I will also go to my father,” she said. - And you'll see, I'll bring twice as many gifts as you!
Mungo woke up late, as always, and approached the plum tree when the sun was already high.
“Darling, Mungo,” the tree asked, “take the evil thorns out of my trunk!”
- Here's another! I'm in a hurry! - said Mungo.
The dying fire asked her:
“Darling, Mungo, cleanse me of the ashes, otherwise I will go out.”
“I don’t have time, I’m in a hurry,” said Mungo and walked even faster: she really wanted to receive the gifts as quickly as possible.
But the stream stopped her:
“Darling, Mungo, clear my riverbed, otherwise I’ll dry up completely.”
- Well, no! Everyone takes care of themselves, but I’m in a hurry.
Arriving at her father’s hut, Mungo announced from the threshold:
“I’m very tired and want to sleep, but in the meantime, prepare me two buffaloes and twice the amount of everything you gave Motho.” Mungo woke up and demanded gifts. But the father did not want to talk to such a daughter; he told her to go home.
Approaching the stream, Mungo saw a wonderful fabric swaying on the water. Mungo was delighted, but was just about to grab it when the fabric slipped between her fingers and floated away.
Mungo wandered on, angry. I saw a freshly baked pie on a banana leaf by the fire and reached out to it... but only burned my fingers. And the crow grabbed the pie and flew away.
Approaching the plum tree, Mungo shook it to at least get some plums for comfort, but only wounded her face and hands on the sharp thorns.
So Mungo trudged home with nothing, angry, tired and hungry. And kind Motho put her to bed, fed her and consoled her as best she could.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru