Many, many years ago

By the river Sorna
There was a village
And it was the most beautiful village
One had ever seen.
There were trees
There were meadows and orchards
And all over grass green.

It was a village of weavers
Who lived in houses built along a dirt track.
Their houses were beautiful.
On their looms
the weavers created
cloth and fabrics
This cloth was later used by tailors in the town
to create dresses.

The weavers used yarns and threads of
several colours
The yarns were rich and pretty,
As pretty as the village the weavers lived in.
The weavers went to the market in the town to sell
their cloth and fabrics
The people at the market liked their fabrics and
they paid a good price.

The weavers
were prosperous
except one weaver
in the village.

This weaver was perhaps
the poorest weaver
in the village

She lived in a small
cottage outside the village
With her old parents
and a very young sister.
She had been unable to find a partner for marriage
As she was considered ugly
And because she was not married,
She was teased by the other weavers of the village.
”She’s a curse,” they said
“A grown-up woman still sitting
in her father’s house.”
“She’s a burden,” they said,
pretending to be concerned
“Wonder if
her unfortunate shadow
will ruin her
sister’s
prospects too.”

But that was not the fact
The weaver was perhaps the most hardworking one in the village
It was her hard work that ran the household,
For her parents were old, sick and unable to work.
And there were so many challenges to face.
While all the other weavers had good looms
to work on

The poor weaver had
one old,
rickety loom

Which she was
finding hard
to maintain.

It was difficult to run that loom,
To oil it
To make it work properly.
So, most of the poor weaver’s resources
Were spent in maintaining her loom
And she never had enough money
To buy good yarn.
As a result,

The fabric the poor
weaver created
Was not as good as
the fabrics created
by the rich
weavers.

At the market in the town,
The rich weavers found wealthy customers
And they purchased the best, most
expensive yarns
To create fabrics.
The poor weaver could
sell her fabric
Only to customers who were
as poor as her.
And she barely earned
enough money
To buy both an ordinary yarn and provisions
for her family.
Yet, that poor weaver lived a happy and satisfied life
With whatever she earned
And she sought nothing more.

Excerpted with permission from The Weavers and the Elephant, Hansda Sowendra Shekhar, illustrated by Proiti Roy, Red Panda.

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