“What can you do for me?” asked the sinpo, not relenting in one way or the other.
Dangbo..o..o Dingbo..o..o.. in a small village in the middle of a narrow valley surrounded by mountains, somewhere in Bhutan, there lived a young girl. Her mother had died a long time ago so she lived alone with her father. The father worked on the narrow strips of land along the river banks where he grew wheat and barley. The girl wove beautiful fabrics at her backs trap loom which was hung on the little porch outside their house. Every day she sat at her loom working intricate designs into the fabrics that she wove.
One day she was sitting at her loom weaving when a raven flew by and dropped a piece of a fruit in front of her. She picked it up and looked at it. She had never seen a fruit like this before but it smelled so sweet and looked so temptingly good that she ate it and it was the most delicious fruit she had ever eaten and she longed for more. At sunset her father came home from the fields and she excitedly told him about the bird and the fruit and asked him to get her some more. The father said, “My daughter, this is not an ordinary fruit. It is a mandarin which grows only in the sinpo’s orchard.” But the daughter pleaded and begged as one bewitched, “Apa, please, I must have more of this fruit or I shall never be happy.”
The orchard was in the next valley although the sinpo himself lived in the distant sinpoiyul. Nobody even dared to go near the orchard. The poor father, unable to deny anything to his only daughter, reluctantly but eventually agreed to go and steal some fruit from the sinpo’s orchard. In the darkness of the night the father headed towards the sinpo’s orchard stealthily, creeping on tiptoe. When he reached the orchard he saw that the sinpo was sitting, and leaning against the tree, and was fast asleep. He was snoring fiercely. The father crept up to the tree. The sinpo continued to sleep on and the brave man climbed up the tree very quietly. The sinpo still slept on. Now the father was among the branches plucking the ripe fruits and filling up his bag. Soon the bag was full and it grew heavy. But he wanted more so he continued, plucking more and more when, suddenly, the strap of the bag broke and the mandarins fell down, with the bag and all. One mandarin struck the sinpo on the head and he woke up with a start. The father shivered as he climbed down the tree and faced the ferocious sinpo.
The sinpo was furious and roared, “I am going to kill you. You not only stole my mandarins but also had the audacity to throw one at me.”
“I beg for your mercy. I have done you wrong. I will do anything for you if you will spare me my life,” pleaded the father.
“What can you do for me?” asked the sinpo, not relenting in one way or the other.
At this, the father said, “Anything. Anything at all.”
So the sinpo said, “If that is true, then I want your daughter to come as my bride.”
This was a terrible shock to the father of a single daughter, one who was loved so dearly, but he could not refuse this proposition as he had agreed to do anything. As a last resort he added a condition. “I will send her to you if you can find out her name.” The sinpo agreed.
The sinpo asked a pig to go and find out the girl’s name. Quietly the pig hid in the bushes and waited for someone to call the girl by her name. Before the end of the day he heard the father call his daughter and the pig learnt the name. He rushed home, all the time repeating the name, “Sing Sing Yangdonma, Sing Sing Yangdonma,” for that was the name of the girl. Just before he reached the sinpo’s house he saw some thick juicy roots by the wayside and he decided to have a quick browse. He enjoyed the roots so much that he stayed on until he had had his fill and he had forgotten the name. When he stood in front of the sinpo all he could do was grunt, “Yoush Yoush,” as all pigs do. The sinpo was angry and had him for his dinner.
On the second day the sinpo sent a monkey to find out the girl’s name. The monkey hid in the branches of a tree near the girl’s house until he too found out the name. He rushed home swinging from tree to tree and repeating the name until he came across some ripe golden bananas. He stopped to eat the bananas and forgot the name. When the sinpo demanded to know the name all the monkey could do was bare all his teeth and chatter, for although he scratched his head sore he could not remember the name. Annoyed by the monkey’s failure the sinpo ate him too.
On the third day the sinpo sent a honey bee. She sat patiently on the window sill all day until she found out the name of the girl and then she flew to the sinpo. She buzzed along, all the way repeating the name, “Sing Sing Yangdonma, Sing Sing Yangdonma, Sing Sing...” The sinpo was pleased and the bee was not eaten. Even to this day the honey bee still says, “sing sing sing”.
The sinpo at once went to the house of Sing Sing Yangdonma and took her away with him. They had to travel for many days past many mountains and valleys. One day they passed a magnificent valley with beautiful hues. The sky was ablaze with the richest colors. The mountains and the valley had tinges of all the colors. Even the trees, plants, and animals were colorful and bright. Sing Sing Yangdonma asked, “Is this where you live?”
“No, somebody else lives here. Za lives here.”
Then they reached a huge rocky mountain where everything looked red. There was a big red dzong among the rocks. Sing Sing Yangdonma asked again, “Is this your house?”
“No, it’s somebody else’s. It belongs to Tsen.”
Finally they reached a huge valley that was barren and bare. Everything had an ashy-gray appearance. In the middle of this emptiness stood a huge monstrous house. The house was built up of bones of every kind. The pillars were made of human thigh bones and the roof was covered with human skins. Sing Sing Yangdonma was horrified and filled with intense depression. There was not a dog nor a human to be seen or heard. An eerie silence filled the atmosphere. She knew that this was the house of the sinpo.
On reaching the house the sinpo at once tied Sing Sing Yangdonma in a big basket and hung her upside down from the ceiling. He told his daughter to keep watch on her. Sing Sing Yangdonma sank into deep despair for she knew that she could never escape from the sinpo and she began to cry as if her heart would break. All of a sudden she had an idea. She began to sing from the basket, “I am so happy in this basket, I can see India and I can see Tibet. I never want to get out of this basket.”
The words of the song soon caught the sinpo’s daughter’s attention and she became very curious. She listened to the song carefully and it was the same again and again. Finally she asked Sing Sing Yangdonma, “Can you really see India and Tibet from the basket?”
“Of course, that’s why I would never want to get out of the basket,” replied Sing Sing Yangdonma with feigned cheerfulness.
“Can I see India and Tibet for a while?”
Sing Sing Yangdonma would not agree but the sinpo’s daughter was very persuasive. “Please let me see India and Tibet just for a while.”
Finally she agreed, saying, “Very well but mind you, just for a while.”
The sinpo’s daughter quickly helped Sing Sing Yangdonma out of the basket and got into it herself. Sing Sing Yangdonma tied her up securely and immersed the basket into a big pot of boiling water. After the sinpo’s daughter was scalded to death Sing Sing Yangdonma took the bunch of keys which was hanging from a hook on the wall and began to open all the locked doors in the house. In one room there were many young children. In the second room there were hundreds of young adults. In the third room there were middle-aged women and in the fourth room middle-aged men. She released them all. In the last room there was a lone old woman. As the light entered the dark room the old woman shielded her eyes for she had not seen light for many years. Then she blinked her ancient eyes and stared at the girl in front of her in total disbelief. Finally she whispered, “How did you find me? Please run away before the sinpo comes. He will eat both of us. I was brought here as his bride when I was a young girl. You see, now that I am old he has thrown me into this room and forgotten about me. But one day when he has nothing better to eat he will eat me too. Here, take my skin,” said the old woman as she slipped off her skin and pulled it over her head. Then she added, “Take all the jewels you can carry from the next room. Then run away as fast as you can.” Sing Sing Yangdonma took strings and strings of coral and turquoise and put on earrings and bracelets and then she slipped the old woman’s skin over herself and ran away as fast as her feet could carry her.
The sinpo soon found out what had happened and he began to chase Sing Sing Yangdonma. She could never have run away from him because he crossed mountains in a few steps and he could straddle a valley with his legs planted on either side of the river, so when she reached a valley with some houses she recognized to be human houses she decided to try and trick the sinpo. She sat down by the road side and turned her back to the sun as old people often do to get the sun on their backs. As she sat thus she chanted, “Om Mani Padme Hung.” The sinpo soon caught up with her and he asked impatiently, “Have you seen Sing Sing Yangdonma pass this way?”
“No, I haven’t seen anyone pass this way, I have been sitting here for a long time now,” lied Sing Sing Yangdonma.
“Then get out of my way, you old woman!” grunted the sinpo as he pushed her aside. The jewelry made the sound “tsalak tsalak” and the sinpo looked at her suspiciously and asked, “What was that?”
“U... hoo u... hoo, those were my old bones creaking and cracking, krack krock,” replied Sing Sing Yangdonma matter-of-factly and pretended to rub her elbows and knees in earnest.
Sing Sing Yangdonma sat in the sun, immensely relieved that the sinpo had not recognized her. By and by three young men came along the road. They were the sons of the king of the valley. They had gone to cut bamboo and were now pulling it home. Each man had forty long bamboo poles tied in a bundle and strapped to his back and as they walked the tips of the bamboo touched the ground, making a continuous sweeping sound “shor.. shor”. As the first prince came by he shouted, “Old Woman, get out of my way!”
Sing Sing Yangdonma refused to move out of the way, saying, “If you are in a hurry step over me and if you are not in a hurry go around me.”
The first prince went right over her and the second prince did the same. The third prince felt sorry for the old woman and went off the road so that he would not go over her. As he passed by the tips of his bamboo touched her and she fell over. The jewelry made the “tsalak tsalak” sound. The third prince was so anxious that he had hurt her and he at once put his bamboo down and came to help her. As Sing Sing Yangdonma watched him go, after he had helped her, she thought: “He is surely the kindest of them all.”
Many days later Sing Sing Yangdonma was sure that the sinpo would not come after her any more. So she went to a nearby steam to bathe herself. She slipped off the old woman’s skin and washed herself in the stream. The youngest prince who happened to be near the stream saw this. He was amazed to see that the old woman was no longer an old woman but a beautiful young girl. She was so beautiful that she would have melted in the sunshine and solidified in the shade. He immediately fell in love with her and married her. They lived for many years together in happiness, peace, and prosperity.