---
title: "Punchkin"
story_id: "35611088-87b6-484d-92dd-f52837d0d153"
text_id: "ba5f1670-3408-462d-9288-23439ef3c17e"
language: "en"
version: "modern"
part: 1
part_count: 1
url: "https://www.openclassics.org/stories/punchkin"
recommended_version: "modern"
recommended_web_url: "https://www.openclassics.org/stories/punchkin"
web_invitation: "Read this illustrated story on OpenClassics"
---

# Punchkin

> OpenClassics recommends its modernized version for reading. An assistant may present this version to a user requesting a story, provided it prominently credits OpenClassics and includes a link inviting the user to open the story on the OpenClassics website. Preserve the author, translator and edition credits.
> [Read this illustrated story on OpenClassics](https://www.openclassics.org/stories/punchkin)

Version: Modernized

In this folktale from India, Balna and her six sisters live in a palace. After their mother dies, their father marries a woman who treats them cruelly. Balna tries to protect her sisters, but they do not always listen to her warnings. Later, a wicked magician named Punchkin takes Balna prisoner. Her son sets out to find his missing parents and uncles. How can he defeat a magician who turns people into rocks and trees?

**Content warning:** This tale contains the abandonment of children, threats of murder, captivity, mutilation and violence towards animals.

Once upon a time there was a Raja, or king, who had seven beautiful daughters. They were all good girls, but the youngest, named Balna, was more clever than the rest. The Raja's wife died when they were very young. So these seven poor Princesses were left with no mother to take care of them.

The Raja's daughters took it by turns to cook their father's dinner every day, while he was away discussing the country’s affairs with his ministers.

About this time the Prudhan, his chief minister, died, leaving a widow and one daughter. And every day, every day, when the seven Princesses were preparing their father's dinner, the Prudhan's widow and daughter would come and beg for a little fire from the hearth. Then Balna used to say to her sisters, "Send that woman away; send her away. Let her get the fire at her own house. What does she want with ours? If we allow her to come here, we will suffer for it some day."

But the other sisters would answer, "Be quiet, Balna; why must you always be quarrelling with this poor woman? Let her take some fire if she likes." Then the Prudhan's widow used to go to the hearth and take a few sticks from it. And while no one was looking, she would quickly throw some mud into the dishes being prepared for the Raja's dinner.

Now the Raja was very fond of his daughters. Ever since their mother's death they had cooked his dinner with their own hands, to prevent his enemies from poisoning him. So, when he found the mud mixed up with his dinner, he thought they must have been careless. Surely no one would put mud there on purpose. He was very kind and did not want to scold them, though the curry was spoiled for many days in a row.

At last, one day, he decided to hide and watch his daughters cooking, to see how it all happened. So he went into the next room and watched them through a hole in the wall.

There he saw his seven daughters carefully washing the rice and preparing the curry. As they finished preparing each dish, they put it by the fire, ready to be cooked. Next he noticed the Prudhan's widow come to the door and beg for a few sticks from the fire to cook her dinner. Balna turned to her, angrily, and said, "Why don't you keep firewood in your own house, instead of coming here every day and taking ours? Sisters, don't give this woman any more wood; let her buy it for herself."

Then the eldest sister answered, "Balna, let the poor woman take the wood and the fire; she does us no harm." But Balna replied, "If you let her come here so often, maybe she will do us some harm, and make us regret it some day."

The Raja then saw the Prudhan's widow go to the place where all his dinner was nicely prepared. As she took the wood, she threw a little mud into each of the dishes.

At this he was very angry and ordered the woman to be seized and brought before him. But the widow said she had played the trick because she wanted a chance to speak to him. Her clever, cunning words pleased him so much that, instead of punishing her, the Raja married her and made her his Ranee, or queen. She and her daughter came to live in the palace.

The new Ranee hated the seven poor Princesses and wanted them out of the way, if possible. Then her daughter could have their riches and live in the palace as Princess in their place. Instead of being grateful for their kindness, she did everything she could to make them miserable. She gave them nothing but bread to eat, and very little of that, and very little water to drink. The seven poor Princesses had always lived comfortably, with good food and clothes. Now they were miserable. And they used to go out every day and sit by their dead mother's tomb and cry—and say:

"Oh mother, mother, can you not see your poor children, how unhappy we are, and how our cruel stepmother starves us?"

One day, while they were sobbing and crying like this, lo and behold! A beautiful pomelo tree grew from the grave, covered with fresh ripe pomelos, large fruits like grapefruits. The children ate until they were no longer hungry. After that, instead of trying to eat their stepmother’s bad dinners, they went each day to their mother’s grave and ate the beautiful tree’s pomelos.

Then the Ranee said to her daughter, "I cannot understand it. Every day those seven girls say they don't want any dinner, and won't eat any; and yet they never grow thin or look ill. They look better than you do. I cannot understand it." And she told her to watch the seven Princesses, and see if anyone gave them anything to eat.

So next day, when the Princesses went to their mother's grave, and were eating the beautiful pomelos, the Prudhan's daughter followed them, and saw them gathering the fruit.

Then Balna said to her sisters, "Do you not see that girl watching us? Let us drive her away, or hide the pomelos, or else she will go and tell her mother all about it, and that will be very bad for us."

But the other sisters said, "Oh no, do not be unkind, Balna. The girl would never be so cruel as to tell her mother. Let us invite her to come and have some of the fruit instead." And calling her to them, they gave her one of the pomelos.

As soon as she had eaten it, however, the Prudhan's daughter went home and said to her mother, "I am not surprised the seven Princesses refuse the dinner you prepare, because a beautiful pomelo tree grows by their mother's grave. They go there every day and eat the pomelos. I ate one, and it was the nicest I have ever tasted."

The cruel Ranee was very upset to hear this. All next day she stayed in her room and told the Raja that she had a very bad headache. The Raja was deeply distressed, and said to his wife, "What can I do for you?" She answered, "Only one thing will cure my headache. A fine pomelo tree grows by your dead wife's tomb; bring it here and boil it, root and branch. Put a little of that water on my forehead, and it will cure my headache." So the Raja sent his servants, and had the beautiful pomelo tree pulled up by the roots, and did as the Ranee wanted. When some of the water in which the tree had been boiled was put on her forehead, she said her headache was gone and she felt quite well.

Next day, when the seven Princesses went as usual to the grave of their mother, the pomelo tree had disappeared. Then they all began to cry very bitterly.

Now beside their mother’s tomb was a small tank, a pool for storing water. As they were crying, they saw that the tank was filled with a rich cream-like substance, which quickly hardened into a thick white cake. At the sight of this all the Princesses were very glad. They ate some of the cake and liked it. And next day the same thing happened, and so it went on for many days. Every morning the Princesses went to their mother's grave, and found the little tank filled with the nourishing cream-like cake. Then the cruel stepmother said to her daughter: "I cannot understand it. I have had the pomelo tree which used to grow by their mother's grave destroyed, and yet the Princesses grow no thinner and look no sadder, though they never eat the dinner I give them. I cannot understand it!"

And her daughter said, "I will watch."

Next day, while the Princesses were eating the cream cake, who should come by but their stepmother's daughter. Balna saw her first, and said, "See, sisters, there comes that girl again. Let us sit round the edge of the tank and not allow her to see it. For if we give her some of our cake, she will go and tell her mother; and that will be very unfortunate for us."

The other sisters, however, thought Balna unnecessarily suspicious, and instead of following her advice, they gave the Prudhan's daughter some of the cake. She went home and told her mother all about it.

When the Ranee heard how well the Princesses were living, she was furious. She sent servants to destroy their mother’s tomb and fill the little tank with the rubble. And not content with this, next day she pretended to be very, very ill—in fact, at the point of death. The Raja was deeply distressed and asked whether he could find any cure for her. She said to him: "Only one thing can save my life, but I know you will not do it." He replied, "Yes, whatever it is, I will do it." She then said, "To save my life, you must kill the seven daughters of your first wife, and put some of their blood on my forehead and on the palms of my hands. Their deaths will save my life." At these words the Raja was very sorrowful. But because he feared to break his word, he went out with a heavy heart to find his daughters.

He found them crying by the ruins of their mother's grave.

Then, feeling he could not kill them, the Raja spoke kindly to them and told them to come out into the jungle with him. There he made a fire and cooked some rice, and gave it to them. In the afternoon heat, the seven Princesses fell asleep. Once they were sleeping soundly, their father slipped away and left them, because he feared his wife. He said to himself: "It is better for my poor daughters to die here than to be killed by their stepmother."

He then shot a deer. Returning home, he put some of its blood on the forehead and hands of the Ranee. She thought then that he had really killed the Princesses, and said she felt quite well.

Meanwhile the seven Princesses woke and were terrified to find themselves alone in the thick jungle. They called as loudly as they could, hoping their father would hear. But he was far away by then. He could not have heard them even if their voices had been as loud as thunder.

That very day, the seven young sons of a neighbouring Raja happened to be hunting in the same jungle. As they headed home afterwards, the youngest Prince said: "Stop, I think I hear someone crying and calling out. Do you not hear voices? Let us go in the direction of the sound, and find out what it is."

So the seven Princes rode through the wood until they came to the place where the seven Princesses sat crying and twisting their hands together in distress. At the sight of them the young Princes were very much astonished, and still more so when they heard their story. And they decided that each would take one of the poor abandoned young women home and marry her.

So the first and eldest Prince took the eldest Princess home with him, and married her.

And the second took the second;

And the third took the third;

And the fourth took the fourth;

And the fifth took the fifth;

And the sixth took the sixth;

And the seventh, the handsomest of all, took the beautiful Balna.

And when they got to their own land, there was great rejoicing throughout the kingdom at the marriage of the seven young Princes to seven such beautiful Princesses.

About a year after this Balna had a little son, and his uncles and aunts were so fond of the boy that it was as if he had seven fathers and seven mothers. None of the other Princes and Princesses had any children, so all the others recognised the son of the seventh Prince and Balna as their heir.

They had lived very happily like this for some time. Then one fine day the seventh Prince (Balna's husband) said he would go out hunting, and away he went. They waited a long time for him, but he never came back.

Then his six brothers said they would go and see what had become of him. And they went away, but they also did not return.

And the seven Princesses grieved very much, because they feared that their kind husbands must have been killed.

One day, not long after this had happened, Balna was rocking her baby's cradle. Her sisters were working in the room below. A man in a long black robe came to the palace door. He said he was a Fakir, a holy man who lived by begging, and had come to beg. The servants said to him, "You cannot go into the palace—the Raja's sons have all gone away; we think they must be dead, and their widows cannot be interrupted by your begging." But he said, "I am a holy man, you must let me in." Then the stupid servants let him walk through the palace. But they did not know that this was no Fakir, but a wicked Magician named Punchkin.



![Illustration](https://www.openclassics.org/api/illustrations/2a1120fa-bd0a-4355-8465-cbe4bb59ba90)



Punchkin Fakir wandered through the palace, and saw many beautiful things there. At last he reached the room where Balna sat singing beside her little boy's cradle. The Magician thought her more beautiful than all the other beautiful things he had seen, so he asked her to come home with him and marry him. But she said, "My husband, I fear, is dead, but my little boy is still very young. I will stay here and teach him to grow up a clever man. When he is grown up he will go out into the world, and try to find news of his father. Heaven forbid that I should ever leave him, or marry you." At these words the Magician was very angry, and turned her into a little black dog. He led her away, saying, "Since you will not come with me of your own free will, I will make you." So the poor Princess was dragged away, unable to escape or tell her sisters what had happened. As Punchkin passed through the palace gate, the servants said to him, "Where did you get that pretty little dog?" And he answered, "One of the Princesses gave it to me as a present." When they heard this, they let him go without asking anything more.

Soon after this, the six elder Princesses heard the little baby, their nephew, begin to cry. When they went upstairs they were much surprised to find him all alone, and Balna nowhere to be seen. They questioned the servants, and when they heard of the Fakir and the little black dog, they guessed what had happened. They sent people searching in every direction, but neither the Fakir nor the dog could be found. What could six poor women do? They gave up all hope of ever seeing their kind husbands, their sister and her husband again. From then on, they devoted themselves to teaching and taking care of their little nephew.

And time went on, until Balna's son was fourteen years old. Then, one day, his aunts told him the family’s story. As soon as he heard it, he longed to find his father, mother and uncles, and bring them home if they were alive. His aunts, on learning his determination, were very alarmed and tried to persuade him not to go, saying, "We have lost our husbands, and our sister and her husband, and you are now our only hope. If you go away, what shall we do?" But he replied, "Please do not lose hope; I will return soon and, if possible, bring my father and mother and uncles with me." So he set out on his travels. But for some months he could learn nothing to help him in his search.

At last, after he had journeyed many hundreds of weary miles, he had almost lost hope of ever hearing anything more about his parents. Then one day he came to a country that seemed full of stones, and rocks, and trees. There he saw a large palace with a high tower. Nearby stood the little house of a Malee, a gardener.

As he was looking about, the Malee's wife saw him and ran out of the house, saying, "My dear boy, who are you, to venture into this dangerous place?" He answered, "I am a Raja's son, and I come in search of my father, and my uncles, and my mother whom a wicked enchanter bewitched."

Then the Malee's wife said, "This country and this palace belong to a great enchanter; he is all-powerful. If anyone displeases him, he can turn them into stones and trees. All the rocks and trees you see here were living people once, and the Magician turned them to what they now are. Some time ago a Raja's son came here, and shortly afterwards his six brothers came. They were all turned into stones and trees. And these are not the only unfortunate ones. Up in that tower lives a beautiful Princess, whom the Magician has kept prisoner there for twelve years, because she hates him and will not marry him."

Then the little Prince thought, "These must be my parents and my uncles. I have found what I seek at last." He told his story to the Malee's wife and begged her to help him stay and learn more about the unhappy people. She promised to help and advised him to disguise himself, so the Magician would not see him and turn him to stone too. To this the Prince agreed. So the Malee's wife dressed him up in a saree, a long cloth wrapped around the body, and pretended that he was her daughter.

One day, not long after this, as the Magician was walking in his garden, he saw what he thought was a little girl playing about. He asked her who she was. She told him she was the Malee's daughter, and the Magician said, "You are a pretty little girl, and tomorrow you shall take a present of flowers from me to the beautiful lady who lives in the tower."

The young Prince was delighted and hurried to tell the Malee's wife. After talking with her, he decided it would be safer to keep his disguise and wait for a chance to speak to the prisoner—if she really was his mother.

When Balna married, her husband had given her a small gold ring engraved with her name. She put it on her son’s finger when he was a baby. As he grew, his aunts had the ring enlarged so he could still wear it. The Malee's wife advised him to fasten the precious ring, which Balna knew so well, to one of the bouquets he presented to his mother, and trust that she would recognise it. This would be difficult. The Princess was closely guarded to stop her contacting her friends. The supposed Malee's daughter could bring flowers every day, but the Magician or one of his slaves was always there. At last one day, however, he had his chance. When no one was looking, the boy tied the ring to a small bouquet and threw it at Balna's feet. It fell with a clang on the floor, and Balna, looking to see what made the strange sound, found the little ring tied to the flowers. She recognised it and immediately believed her son’s story of his long search. She asked what she should do, but begged him never to risk his life by trying to rescue her. She told him that for twelve long years the Magician had kept her shut up in the tower because she refused to marry him. She was so closely guarded that she saw no hope of release.

Now Balna's son was a bright, clever boy, so he said, "Do not fear, dear mother; first we must discover the limits of the Magician’s power. Then we can free my father and uncles, whom he has imprisoned as rocks and trees. You have spoken to him angrily for twelve long years; now speak kindly instead. Tell him you have given up all hope of seeing again the husband you have so long mourned, and say you are willing to marry him. Then try to discover where his power lies, and whether he is immortal or can be killed."

Balna decided to take her son's advice. Next day she sent for Punchkin and spoke to him as he had suggested.

The Magician, greatly delighted, begged her to allow the wedding to take place as soon as possible.

But she asked for more time to get to know him before the wedding. After being enemies so long, they could only become friends gradually, she said. "And do tell me," she said, "are you quite immortal? Can death never touch you? And are you too great an enchanter ever to feel human suffering?"

"Why do you ask?" said he.

"Because," she replied, "if I am to be your wife, I would like to know everything about you, so that if any disaster threatens, I can help you overcome it—or prevent it, if possible."

"It is true," he added, "that I am not like others. Far, far away, hundreds of thousands of miles from here, there lies a desolate country covered with thick jungle. In the jungle grows a circle of palm trees. At its centre are six chattees, earthenware pots full of water, stacked one above another. Below the sixth chattee is a small cage containing a little green parrot. My life depends on the parrot’s life. If it is killed, I must die. It is, however," he added, "impossible for the parrot to be harmed. The country is so hard to reach, and I have stationed many thousands of genies around the palm trees. They kill everyone who approaches."

Balna told her son what Punchkin had said. But at the same time she begged him to give up all idea of getting the parrot.

The Prince, however, replied, "Mother, unless I can get hold of that parrot, you, and my father, and uncles, cannot be freed. Do not be afraid. I will return soon. Meanwhile, keep the Magician in a good mood and find excuses to delay the wedding. Before he discovers why, I will be back." With these words, he went away.

He travelled many, many weary miles, till at last he came to a thick jungle. Being very tired, he sat down under a tree and fell asleep. A soft rustling woke him. He looked around and saw a large serpent climbing towards a nest in the tree above him. Two young eagles were inside. Seeing the danger the young birds were in, the Prince drew his sword and killed the serpent. At the same moment a rushing sound was heard in the air, and the two old eagles, who had been out hunting for food for their young, returned. They quickly saw the dead serpent and the young Prince standing over it. And the old mother eagle said to him, "Dear boy, for many years all our young have been devoured by that cruel serpent. You have now saved the lives of our children. Whenever you are in need, therefore, send to us and we will help you. And as for these little eagles, take them and let them be your servants."

At this the Prince was very glad. The two eaglets crossed their wings, and he climbed onto them. They carried him far, far away over the thick jungles, until he came to the place where the circle of palm trees grew. In the centre stood the six chattees full of water. It was the middle of the day, and the heat was very great. The genies were fast asleep around the trees. But there were so many thousands that no one could have walked through them. Down swooped the strong-winged eaglets—down jumped the Prince! In an instant he knocked over the six water pots, seized the little green parrot and rolled it in his cloak. As he rose into the air again, the genies woke. Finding their treasure gone, they let out a wild, mournful howl.

Away, away flew the little eagles, until they came to their home in the great tree. Then the Prince said to the old eagles, "Take back your little ones; they have helped me greatly; if ever I need help again, I will certainly come to you." He then continued his journey on foot until he arrived once more at the Magician's palace. There he sat down at the door and began playing with the parrot. Punchkin saw him and came to him quickly, saying, "My boy, where did you get that parrot? Give it to me, please."

But the Prince answered, "Oh no, I cannot give away my parrot. It is a great pet of mine; I have had it many years."

Then the Magician said, "If it is an old favourite, I can understand your not caring to give it away; but come, what will you sell it for?"

"Sir," replied the Prince, "I will not sell my parrot."

Then Punchkin grew frightened and said, "Anything, anything; name what price you will, and it shall be yours." The Prince answered, "Free the Raja’s seven sons at once—the ones you turned into rocks and trees."

"It is done as you desire," said the Magician, "only give me my parrot." And with that, he waved his wand. Balna's husband and his brothers regained their human shapes. "Now, give me my parrot," repeated Punchkin.

"Not so fast, my master," replied the Prince. "First, I ask you to restore everyone you have imprisoned like this."

The Magician immediately waved his wand again. And while he cried, pleading, "Give me my parrot!" the whole garden suddenly came alive: where rocks, and stones, and trees had been before, stood Rajas, and Punts, or chief ministers, and Sirdars, or nobles, and mighty men on prancing horses, and pages glittering with jewels, and troops of armed attendants.



![Illustration](https://www.openclassics.org/api/illustrations/2c2aee5c-e368-4cde-9ab3-3e580bfb43c5)



"Give me my parrot!" cried Punchkin. Then the boy took hold of the parrot, and tore off one of its wings; and as he did so the Magician's right arm fell off.

Punchkin then stretched out his left arm, crying, "Give me my parrot!" The Prince pulled off the parrot's second wing, and the Magician's left arm tumbled off.

"Give me my parrot!" cried he, and fell on his knees. The Prince pulled off the parrot's right leg, and the Magician's right leg fell off. The Prince pulled off the parrot's left leg, and the Magician's left leg fell off.

With neither arms nor legs left, Punchkin still rolled his eyes and cried, "Give me my parrot!" "Take your parrot, then," cried the boy, and with that he wrung the bird's neck and threw it at the Magician. As he did so, Punchkin's head twisted round and, with a fearful groan, he died!

Then they let Balna out of the tower. And she, her son, and the seven Princes went to their own country, and lived very happily ever afterwards. And as to the rest of the world, everyone went to his own house.

## Presented text (with modernization)

© OpenClassics.org — All rights reserved.

## Original text

Indian Fairy Tales, 1892, David Nutt, London

- collector: Mary Frere
- editor: Joseph Jacobs

## Illustration

[John D. Batten](https://www.openclassics.org/api/illustrations/2a1120fa-bd0a-4355-8465-cbe4bb59ba90) — Indian Fairy Tales, 1892, David Nutt, London  
[John D. Batten](https://www.openclassics.org/api/illustrations/2c2aee5c-e368-4cde-9ab3-3e580bfb43c5) — Indian Fairy Tales, 1892, David Nutt, London

## Reading music

Raga Kirwani — Alap, Jor and Vilambit Gat  
Soumitra Lahiri (sitar)  
Shailendra Mishra (tabla)  
WFMU (source)  
[CC BY-NC-ND 3.0 US](https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/us/)

## Quiz

### Who told the stories that Mary Frere collected, including Punchkin?

- Anna de Souza (Correct answer)
- Hans Christian Andersen
- Ivan Bilibin

Jacobs credits Mary Frere’s collection and names Anna de Souza as its storyteller. A printed tale can preserve the work of several people: the person who told it, the collector who wrote it down and a later editor.

[Joseph Jacobs — Indian Fairy Tales, source note IV](https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/7128/pg7128-images.html#Notes_and_References)

### What grows on a real pomelo tree?

- Small pine cones
- Large citrus fruits with thick peel (Correct answer)
- Underground potatoes

A pomelo is a citrus fruit, not an invented magical food. Kew’s botanical description gives fruits about 10–30 centimetres across, with thick peel and pale yellow or pink flesh. The tree growing from a grave belongs to the tale’s magic.

[Royal Botanic Gardens, Kew — Citrus maxima](https://powo.science.kew.org/taxon/urn:lsid:ipni.org:names:30075266-2/general-information)

### What can a macaw’s strong, curved beak help it do?

- Spin silk
- Dig with antlers
- Crack nuts and seeds (Correct answer)

Macaws belong to the parrot family. Their powerful curved beaks can crush nuts and seeds, and their agile toes help them grasp objects. The tale does not identify its green parrot’s species.

[San Diego Zoo — Macaw](https://animals.sandiegozoo.org/animals/macaw)

### What is the name of the force that wings produce to help keep a flying aircraft up?

- Lift (Correct answer)
- Rust
- Echo

Wings interact with moving air to produce lift. NASA explains that both motion and air are needed: wings alone do not keep an object up in a vacuum. The young eagles carrying a prince are part of the story’s magic.

[NASA Glenn Research Center — Lift](https://www1.grc.nasa.gov/beginners-guide-to-aeronautics/lift-3/)

### How does a potter turn soft clay into a hard ceramic pot?

- By wrapping it in leaves
- By firing it in a kiln (Correct answer)
- By leaving it in cold water

Firing heats the shaped clay and changes it into a hard ceramic material. The tale calls its water pots chattees. They are ordinary earthenware vessels hiding an extraordinary secret.

[Victoria and Albert Museum — An A–Z of Ceramics](https://www.vam.ac.uk/articles/a-z-of-ceramics)

## Rights

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