Princess Aubergine

Once upon a time there lived a poor Brahman and his wife. They were so poor that they often had no idea where their next meal would come from, and they had to make do with wild herbs and roots for their dinner.

One day, while the Brahman was gathering what herbs he could find in the wild, he came across an aubergine plant, the vegetable some call an egg-plant. Thinking it might come in useful one day, he dug it up, carried it home and planted it beside his cottage door. He watered it and looked after it every day, and it grew wonderfully well, until at last it bore a single large fruit as big as a pear, purple and white and shining. It was such a handsome fruit that the good couple thought it a shame to pick it, and they left it hanging day after day. But one morning there was nothing at all to eat in the house, and the Brahman said to his wife, “We must eat the aubergine. Go and cut it and cook it for dinner.”

So his wife took a knife and cut the beautiful purple and white fruit from the plant, and as she did, she thought she heard a soft moan. When she sat down and began to peel it, a tiny voice said very clearly, “Careful! Oh, please be careful! Peel more gently, or I’m sure the knife will cut me!”

The good woman was dreadfully puzzled, but she went on peeling as gently as she could, wondering all the while what spell was on the fruit. And when she had cut right through the skin, what do you think happened? Out stepped the loveliest little maiden you could imagine, dressed in purple and white satin!

The poor Brahman and his wife were astonished, and even more delighted. They had no children of their own, so they took the tiny girl as a gift from heaven and decided to bring her up as their daughter. They took the greatest care of her, petting and spoiling her, and they always called her Princess Aubergine, because, as they said, even if she was not really a princess, she was dainty and delicate enough to be any king’s daughter.

Not far from the Brahman’s hut lived a king who had a beautiful wife and seven fine young sons. One day a servant girl from the palace passed the Brahman’s cottage and stepped in to ask for a light for her fire, and there she saw the beautiful Aubergine. She went straight back to the palace and told her mistress that in a poor hut nearby there lived a princess so lovely and charming that if the king ever laid eyes on her, he would forget not only his queen but every other woman in the world.

The queen was a very jealous woman and could not bear the thought of anyone being more beautiful than she was, so she began to plot how to destroy the lovely Aubergine. If she could only lure the girl into the palace, the rest would be easy, for she was a sorceress, skilled in every kind of magic. So she sent a message to Princess Aubergine saying that everyone at court was talking of her beauty, and that the queen longed to find out for herself if the tales were true.

Aubergine was pleased by the invitation and went to the palace, unaware of the queen’s plan. She went to the palace, and the queen pretended to be amazed. “You were born to live in a king’s house!” she said. “From now on you must never leave me. From today you are my sister.”

This flattered Princess Aubergine, and she was happy to stay. She and the queen exchanged veils and drank milk from the same cup, as the tale describes their promise of sisterhood.

But from the very first moment, the queen had seen that Princess Aubergine was no human girl but a fairy, and she knew she must work her magic carefully. So while the princess slept, she cast strong spells over her and said:

“Lovely Aubergine, tell me true,
Where does your life lie hidden?”

And the princess answered, “In the life of your eldest son. If he dies, I shall die too.”

The wicked queen was so set on her plan that she did not spare even her own child, and the next morning her eldest son was dead. She sent the servant girl to the princess’s rooms, hoping to hear that she had died as well, but the girl came back and said the princess was alive and well.

The queen wept tears of rage, for she knew her spells had not been strong enough. But the next night she cast stronger spells and asked the same question, and the sleeping princess answered, “In the life of your second son.” The same cruel thing happened, and still the princess lived.

The queen would not give up her wicked plan. Night after night she cast stronger spells, and each time the princess named another son, until all seven young princes were gone. And still Princess Aubergine was alive and well, and the cruel queen wept with fury and spite at having lost her seven sons for nothing.

Then the sorceress-queen gathered all her power and cast such strong spells on the princess that she could no longer resist and had to tell the truth. When the queen asked her question, the poor princess was forced to answer, “Far away in a river lives a red and green fish. Inside the fish is a bumblebee, inside the bee is a tiny box, and in that box lies the wonderful nine-lakh necklace. Whoever wears it brings my death.”

At last the queen was satisfied, and she set about finding the red and green fish. When her husband the king came to see her, she began to sob and cry until he asked what was wrong. She told him she had set her heart on having the wonderful nine-lakh necklace.

“But where can it be found?” asked the king.

The queen repeated what Princess Aubergine had said: “In a faraway river swims a fish of red and green. A bumblebee lives inside it, a little box lies inside the bee, and the nine-lakh necklace is in the box.”

The king was a very kind man, and he had grieved deeply for his seven sons, who, the queen told him, had died suddenly of a catching sickness. Seeing his wife so upset and wanting to comfort her, he ordered every fisherman in the kingdom to fish all day until the red and green fish was found. All the fishermen set to work, and before long the queen had her wish. The red and green fish was caught, and when the sorceress opened it, there was the bumblebee, and inside the bee was the box, and inside the box was the wonderful nine-lakh necklace, which the queen put on at once.

Now, as soon as Princess Aubergine had been forced by magic to give away the secret of her life, she knew she must die. Sadly she went home to the hut of her foster parents, told them that her death was near and begged them neither to burn nor to bury her body. “This is what I want you to do,” she said. “Dress me in my finest clothes, lay me on my bed, scatter flowers over me and carry me out into the wildest part of the wilderness. Set the bed down there and build a high mud wall around it, so that no one can see over.”

Her poor foster parents, weeping bitterly, promised to do as she asked. The princess died at the very moment the wicked queen put on the nine-lakh necklace, and they dressed her in her best clothes, scattered flowers over her bed and carried her out into the wildest part of the wilderness.

When the queen sent the servant girl to the Brahman’s hut to find out whether Princess Aubergine was really dead, the girl came back and said, “She is dead, but she has not been burned or buried. She lies out in the wilderness to the north, covered with flowers, as beautiful as the moon!” The queen was not happy with this answer, but there was nothing more she could do, so she had to be content.

The king grieved bitterly for his seven young sons, and to try to forget his sorrow, he went hunting every day. The queen was afraid that on his travels he might find the princess, so she made him promise never to hunt towards the north. “If you do,” she said, “some disaster will surely happen to you.”

But one day, after hunting to the east, the south and the west without finding any game, he forgot his promise and rode north. He lost his way and came to a high enclosure with no door, and, curious to know what was inside, he climbed over the wall. He could hardly believe his eyes when he saw a lovely princess lying on a bed strewn with flowers, looking as if she had just fallen asleep. It seemed impossible that she could be dead. He knelt beside her and spent the whole day praying and pleading with her to open her eyes. At nightfall he went back to the palace, but at dawn he took his bow, sent away all his attendants, saying he wanted to hunt alone, and hurried back to his beautiful princess. So he spent day after day, kneeling beside the lovely Aubergine in despair and begging her to wake, but she never stirred.

At the end of a year, he found one day the most beautiful little boy lying beside the princess. He was amazed, but he took the child in his arms and looked after him tenderly all day, and at night he laid him down beside his sleeping mother. In time the child learned to talk, and the king asked him whether his mother was always dead.

“No!” said the boy. “At night she is alive, and she looks after me as you do in the daytime.”

So the king told the boy to ask his mother what made her die, and the next day the boy said, “My mother says the cause is the nine-lakh necklace that hangs round your queen’s neck. Each night the queen removes it, and then my mother lives, but every morning, when the queen puts it on, my mother dies.”

The king was baffled. What could his own queen have to do with this strange sleeping princess? His next question for the boy to carry was: whose son are you?

When morning came, the child answered, “Mother told me to say that I am your son, sent to comfort you for the loss of the seven fine sons whom your wicked queen killed out of jealousy of my mother, the lovely Princess Aubergine.”

The king was filled with anger at the thought of his lost sons. He told the boy to ask his mother how the wicked queen should be punished and how the necklace could be got back.

The next morning the boy said, “Mother says I am the only one who can get the necklace, so tonight, when you go to the palace, you must take me with you.”

So the king carried the boy home to the palace and told all his ministers and courtiers that the child was his heir. When the sorceress-queen heard this, she thought of her own lost sons and went wild with jealousy, and she made up her mind to poison the boy. She made some tempting sweets, petted the child and gave him a handful, telling him to eat them. But the child refused, saying he would not eat a single one until she let him play with the glittering necklace around her throat.

The queen was so determined to poison the boy that, seeing no other way to make him eat, she slipped off the nine-lakh necklace and gave it to him. The moment he touched it, he ran off so fast that none of the servants or guards could stop him, and he did not stop for breath until he reached the place where the beautiful Princess Aubergine lay. He threw the necklace over her head, and at once she rose up, lovelier than ever.

Then the king came and begged her to come to the palace as his bride. But she said, “I will never be your wife while that wicked sorceress lives, for she would only kill me and my son, just as she killed your seven young sons.” And she told him that the queen must be thrown into a deep ditch dug at the palace doorway, filled with scorpions and snakes, and buried there, and that only then would she walk over that grave to become his wife.

So the king ordered the ditch to be dug. He went to the sorceress-queen and asked her to come and see something wonderful, but she suspected a trick and would not come. Then the guards seized her, and she was thrown into the ditch and buried there.

As for Princess Aubergine, she and her son walked over the grave, and they lived happily in the palace for the rest of their days.

About this story

This tale comes from Flora Annie Steel’s Tales of the Punjab. R. C. Temple’s notes give its Punjabi name, Baingan Badshahzadi, and explain that the aubergine, which Europeans in India called the brinjal, was a very common and popular vegetable in the rainy season. His historical note describes exchanging veils as a pledge of friendship among Punjabi women and discusses the nine-lakh necklace as a recurring tale object. Nine lakh means nine hundred thousand; the phrase gives the necklace an extravagant storybook value in rupees, not a modern valuation.

Steel’s version describes the queen killing each of her seven sons with her own hands, one by one, and ends with her being buried alive. Here the deaths of the princes are told briefly, without describing how they happened, and the queen’s punishment is kept short.

Read the original: Flora Annie Steel, Tales of the Punjab (Project Gutenberg #6145, Princess Aubergine)

Reading guidance: Older teen and adult readers; includes seven children killed by their mother, an attempted child poisoning, repeated apparent death and a woman buried alive with venomous creatures.

A closer reading

The queen uses a promise of sisterhood to gain access to Aubergine’s vulnerability. Their shared cup and exchanged veils should signify care, but the queen treats intimacy as a tool for extracting a secret. The betrayal is the queen’s decision, not a punishment Aubergine deserves for accepting a flattering invitation.

The sleeping princess’s first answers send the queen towards her own sons. The tale represents these as resistance to the spells, but the killings remain the queen’s choices. Each repeated attempt makes the cost of her fixation harder to overlook. The princes are victims, not evidence that everyone eventually receives a deserved reward.

The king and Aubergine occupy opposite parts of the day, and their son becomes a messenger between them. This device lets the truth emerge through repeated questions. The narrative identifies the boy as the king’s son without explaining his conception; a reader should recognize that gap rather than invent an account to fill it.

The child obtains the necklace because the queen values her new poisoning scheme more than keeping control of it. Her attempt to repeat the original harm creates an opening for resistance. The final burial answers violence with a cruel execution. Readers can distinguish securing the family’s safety from endorsing that punishment, even though the narrator closes with happiness.

Try this with the story

Follow the necklace through four states: hidden, worn by the queen, removed at night and returned to Aubergine. Record who is alive and who knows the cause at each stage. Then trace the child’s messages and explain how each answer changes the king’s understanding.

Talk about it

• How does the queen misuse the pledge of sisterhood?
• Why does the child become the messenger between Aubergine and the king?
• What does the tale leave unexplained about the child’s birth?
• How does the queen’s attempt to poison him enable the necklace’s recovery?
• How might safety and justice be distinguished from the ending’s cruel punishment?

Related stories

• Punchkin — another Indian tale in which a life is hidden far away inside a creature
• Princess Pepperina — another Punjabi tale of a magical princess and jealous enemies
• The Snake Prince — another Indian fairy tale about magic and a jealous rival