The Old Woman Who Outsmarted the Tricksters

The Old Woman and the Two Tricksters

BY:Khan

Once upon a time, there was an old woman. She was on her way to the city, wearing all her jewelry. It wasn’t much—just a pair of gold earrings, a necklace, and some bangles—but it was all made of pure gold. Behind her trailed two tricksters. These men were clever, sly, and full of deceit. They were partners in crime, always looking for easy prey.

When they saw the old woman walking alone, glittering with ornaments, they immediately decided to rob her. But what they didn’t know was that this woman was far wiser than she looked. Her hair may have turned white under the sun, but her mind was sharper than a blade.

One of the tricksters walked ahead, greeted her politely, and asked, “Mother, where are you going?”

“To the city, son,” she replied.

“That’s wonderful!” the first trickster said. “We are headed there too.”

“Yes, Mother,” the second chimed in. “We’ll travel together.”

The old woman smiled. “Good, that will make the road easier.”

They walked for a while, and then one of the tricksters said, “Mother, why don’t you tell us a story? The journey will feel shorter.”

“My sons, what story could I possibly tell? You should tell me something instead,” she replied.

“Very well,” said the second trickster. “But on one condition. If you call our story a lie, we will take your bangles.”

The old woman agreed, and one trickster began.

“Mother, once we had a cow. A beautiful cow, with large shining eyes and long ears. She gave so much milk that even after we had filled every pot in the house, she would still not run dry. But that wasn’t her only wonder. If we sat upon her right horn, she would carry us instantly to the West. If we sat upon her left horn, she would take us to the East.

“During the partition of the country, when we were migrating to Pakistan, the rioters attacked us. A bullet struck our poor cow, and she fell dead on the spot.”

The trickster sighed dramatically.

The old woman also sighed. “That is indeed sad,” she said with sympathy.

Seeing that she didn’t call his story a lie, the trickster thought he had won. But then he said, “Now, Mother, it’s your turn to tell a story. And if we find it false, we will claim a hundred rupees from you.”

The old woman nodded. “Very well, sons. If you are so sure, then listen.”

She began her tale:

“When I was married, my father gave me a bull as part of my dowry. A fine animal it was, strong and gentle. One day another bull from the village fought with him, and my bull received a wound on his forehead. We tried every remedy, but it never healed. Then, by chance, a cottonseed fell into the wound. To our amazement, it sprouted and grew into a full cotton plant, right on his forehead.

“The cotton was so soft and fine that people from faraway villages came to see it. Soon we had heaps of cotton. From it we made cloth—khes, sheets, and all kinds of fabric. But two of those khes were stolen. Sons, may God protect me from lying, but the khes you are wearing now are those very same ones! Kindly return them to me.”

The tricksters looked at each other. The condition was clear: if they denied her claim, they would have to pay a hundred rupees. Helpless, they removed their khes and gave them to her.

The old woman went on. “From the rest of the cotton we made fine muslin cloth. But one bolt of muslin also disappeared. And, sons, the turbans you are wearing—these too were made from that very muslin. Please remove them.”

The tricksters, trapped by their own condition, handed over their turbans.

By now, they were close to the city. One trickster tried to change the subject. “Mother, I’m hungry.”

“Don’t worry, sons,” said the old woman. “We are nearly there. I will sell my bangles, and then we shall sit and eat together.”

The tricksters whispered to each other, thinking they would trick her once she sold her jewelry.

At last, they entered the bustling marketplace of the city. The old woman removed her bangles and said, “Sons, sit here while I go to the jeweler.”

They sat down nearby, waiting. The jeweler asked her, “What do you wish to sell, Mother? These bangles?”

“No,” she replied calmly. “I wish to sell my two servants. They are sitting over there.”

The jeweler peered across the street. “Excellent! We need strong workers. How much do you want for them?”

“Three hundred rupees,” said the old woman.

After some bargaining, they settled on two hundred rupees.

“But let me ask my servants first,” she said with a sly smile. She raised her voice and called, “Sons, should I sell one of you or both?”

From across the way, the tricksters shouted back, “Sell both, Mother! What will you do with just one?”

The deal was sealed. The jeweler handed her two hundred rupees, and she walked out of the shop. Before leaving, she told them sweetly, “Wait here, sons. I’ll bring food and sweets for you.” Then she disappeared into the crowd, never to be seen again.

When the jeweler called them to work, the tricksters realized what had happened. They had been outsmarted completely.

And so they exclaimed in defeat:
“She really was our grandmother after all