The Weaver and the Seven Ghosts

Once there was a weaver who loved eating cakes. One day, he said to his mother, “Mother, I really feel like having some cakes. Can you make some for me?”

That day, his mother made him seven delightful cakes—red, round, and flat. The weaver was so happy to receive the cakes that he started dancing and chanting,

“Shall I eat one? Shall I eat two?

I’ll munch and chew all seven too!”

His mother said, “If you just keep dancing, when will you eat?”

The weaver replied, “Why eat here? I’ll go somewhere everyone can see me eat.”

Saying this, he took the cakes and started dancing out of the house, singing,

“Shall I eat one? Shall I eat two?

I’ll munch and chew all seven too!”

He danced his way to a large banyan tree under which a market was held. There, he kept dancing and chanting,

“Shall I eat one? Shall I eat two?

I’ll munch and chew all seven too!”

Now, it so happened that seven ghosts lived in that tree. Hearing the weaver say, “I’ll munch and chew all seven,” they were terrified. Trembling with fear, they whispered among themselves, “Oh no! We’re doomed! Look, this strange fellow has come to chew us all up! What should we do now?”

After much deliberation, the ghosts took a pot and approached the weaver. With folded hands, they pleaded, “Oh kind sir, please don’t chew us up. We beg you! Take this pot and spare us.”

These seven pitch-black, palm-tree-sized ghosts had ears like fans, teeth like radishes, and eyes like burning coals. Seeing them trembling and begging in front of him, the weaver was so shocked that the thought of running away didn’t even cross his mind.

He asked, “What will I do with this pot?”

The ghosts replied, “Oh sir, whenever you wish to eat something, you will find it inside this pot.”

The weaver exclaimed, “Really? Alright, then I’d like some sweet pudding.”

As soon as he spoke, a delightful aroma of pudding began wafting from the pot. It was a kind of pudding the weaver had never tasted before—neither had his mother, nor his father. Overjoyed, the weaver took the pot and walked away, while the ghosts sighed in relief, thinking, *Thank goodness we’re safe now!*

By then, it was already midday, and the weaver’s house was far away. So he thought, *How will I go home in this heat? My friend’s house is nearby; I’ll stop there for now and go home later in the afternoon.*

With this thought, he went to his friend’s house. Unfortunately, his friend was a mischievous fellow. Seeing the weaver’s pot, he asked, “Hey, where did you get this pot from?”

The weaver replied, “Friend, this is no ordinary pot. It has marvelous powers.”

The friend said, "Really? Let me see what it can do."

The weaver replied, "I can take out anything you want to eat from this pot."

The friend said, "I want rabri, sandesh, rasgulla, sarbhaja, malpua, pastuya, kachagolla, kheer mohan, gaja, motichur jalebi, amriti, and chomchom."

Whatever the friend named, the weaver reached into the pot and took it out. Seeing this, the friend thought, *This is something I must steal.*

So he started pampering the weaver. He brought a fan and fanned him, wiped his face with a towel, and said, "Oh, brother, you must be so tired! You're sweating so much! Would you like to rest for a while? Shall I make a bed for you?"

The weaver, feeling truly tired, said, "Alright, make a bed for me." The friend made a bed, put the weaver to sleep, and quietly swapped the magical pot with an ordinary one. The weaver didn’t suspect anything.

In the afternoon, the weaver woke up and went home, saying to his mother, "Look, Mother, what a wonderful pot I’ve brought! What would you like to eat—sandesh or cake? I’ll take it out of the pot for you."

But this wasn’t the magical pot anymore. Why would anything come out of it? The weaver was left dumbfounded, and his mother began scolding him.

Now the weaver was furious and thought, *Those ghosts must be behind this!* It didn’t even cross his mind that his friend had tricked him.

The next day, he returned to the banyan tree and began shouting:

"Shall I eat one? Shall I eat two?

I’ll munch and chew all seven too!"

Hearing this, the ghosts trembled again and brought him a goat, pleading with folded hands, "Oh, kind sir! We beg you, take this goat and spare us!"

The weaver asked, "What’s special about this goat?"

The ghosts replied, "Tickle it, and it laughs. As it laughs, gold coins fall from its mouth."

The weaver immediately tickled the goat, and it began laughing, "Hee-hee, hee-hee," while gold coins poured out of its mouth. The sight filled the weaver with glee. He thought, *I must show this to my friend!*

That day, the friend treated him even better. He made a luxurious bed and fanned the weaver with both hands until he fell into a deep sleep, which lasted until the evening. Meanwhile, the friend swapped the magical goat with an ordinary one.

In the evening, the weaver woke up, took the goat, and returned home, only to find his mother furious at his delay. To calm her down, he said, "Don’t be angry, Mother. Watch what this goat can do—it will make you dance with joy!"

He then tickled the goat, saying, "Tickle, tickle, tickle, tickle!"

But the goat neither laughed nor produced gold coins. Instead, when the weaver tickled it again, the goat grew angry and charged at him, ramming its horns into his nose. The weaver fell to the ground, bleeding profusely, while his mother scolded him like never before.

The weaver’s rage knew no bounds. He stormed back to the banyan tree and shouted:

"Shall I eat one? Shall I eat two?

I’ll munch and chew all seven too!

You’ve tricked me twice and had a goat crush my nose—today I won’t spare you!"

The ghosts, surprised, asked, "What do you mean, kind sir? How did we trick you? And how did the goat crush your nose?"

The weaver showed his nose and said, "Look at this! That goat you gave me did this to me. I’ll chew up all of you today!"

The ghosts replied, "That couldn’t have been our goat. Did you go straight home from here?"

The weaver replied, "No, I stopped at my friend’s house, took a nap there, and then went home."

The ghosts said, "Ah, there’s your answer! Your friend stole the goat while you were sleeping."

Realizing the truth, the weaver exclaimed, "Of course! That scoundrel also stole my pot. What do I do now?"

The ghosts handed him a stick and said, "This stick will bring back both your pot and goat. Just take it to your friend and say, *Stick, start!* Then watch the fun. No one, not even a hundred men, can escape its wrath."

The weaver took the stick to his friend and said, "Friend, want to see something fun?"

The friend, curious, agreed. As soon as the weaver said, "Stick, start!" the stick began thrashing the friend mercilessly, leaving no part of his body untouched. The friend tried to escape, but the stick chased him down, beating him relentlessly. In tears, the friend begged, "Please, stop! Take your pot and goat and leave me alone!"

The weaver said, "Bring the pot and goat first, then I’ll stop."

The terrified friend, still being beaten, fetched the pot and goat and returned them. The weaver tested the pot by asking for sandesh, and it filled instantly. Then he tickled the goat, and it laughed, dropping hundreds of gold coins.

Satisfied, the weaver took his pot, goat, and stick home.

From that day on, the weaver was no longer poor. He became wealthy, with a grand house, elephants, horses, luxurious clothes, and servants—living a life fit for a king. The king of the land treated him with great respect and sought his advice on important matters.

One day, an enemy king invaded the land with thousands of soldiers, looting villages and defeating the royal army. The situation grew so dire that the invaders were about to storm the palace.

The king summoned the weaver and asked, "What do we do now? They’ll capture us any moment!"

The weaver calmly replied, "Don’t worry, Your Majesty. Stay inside; I’ll handle everything."

With that, he took his stick and sat outside the palace gates. The invading king approached on a massive elephant, leading his army. Dust rose in the air, and the sound of soldiers and animals filled the skies. The weaver waited patiently until they came close.

Then he commanded, "Stick, start!"

The stick multiplied and began beating the invaders—soldiers, elephants, horses—leaving no one untouched. The enemy king, terrified, cried out, "Enough! We surrender! Please, spare us!"

The weaver simply smiled and waited.

The enemy king offered to return everything he had looted, along with his kingdom and his daughter’s hand in marriage to the weaver. The weaver conveyed the message to his king, who agreed.

Thus, the weaver became the ruler of half the kingdom and married the enemy king’s daughter. A grand feast was held, and if they didn’t finish eating, they’re probably still at it. If only we could have attended!