The Ivory City And Its Fairy Princess

One day a young prince was out practising archery with the son of his father’s chief vizier, when one of the arrows accident ally struck the wife of a merchant, who was walking about in an upper room of a house close by. The prince aimed at a bird that was perched on the windowsill of that room, and had not the slightest idea that anybody was at hand, or he would not have shot in that direction. Consequently, not knowing what had happened, he and the vizier’s son walked away, the vizier’s son chaffing him because he had missed the bird.

Presently the merchant went to ask his wife about something, and found her lying, to all appearance, dead in the middle of the room, and an arrow fixed in the ground within half a yard of her head. Supposing that she was dead, he rushed to the window and shrieked, “Thieves thieves! They have killed my wife.” The neighbours quickly gat hered, and the servants came running upstairs to see what was the matter. It happened that the woman had fainted, and that there was only a very slight wound in her breast where the arrow had grazed.

As soon as the woman recovered her senses she told them that two young men had passed by the place with their bows and arrows, and that one of them had most deliberately aimed at her as she stood by the window.

On hearing this the merchant went to the king, and told him what had taken place. His Majesty was much enraged at such audacious wickedness, and swore that most terrible punishment should be visited on the offender if he could be discovered. He ordered the merchant to go back and ascertain whe ther his wife could recognise the young men if she saw them again.

“Oh yes,” replied the woman, “I should know them again among all the people in the city.”

“Then,” said the king, when the merchant brought back this reply, “tomorrow I will cause all the male inhabitants of this city to pass before your house, and your wife will stand at the window and watch for the man who did this wanton deed.”

A royal proclamation was issued to this effect. So the next day all the men and boys of the city, from the age of ten years upwards, assembled and marched by the house of the merchant. By chance (for they both had been excused from obeying this order) the king’s son and the vizier’s son were also in the company, and passed by in the crowd. They came to see the tamasha.

As soon as these two appe ared in front of the merchant’s window they were recognised by the merchant’s wife, and at once reported to the king.

“My own son and the son of my chief vizier!” exclaimed the king, who had been present from the commencement. “What examples for the people! Let them both be executed.”

“Not so, your Majesty,” said the vizier, “I beseech you Let the facts of the case be thoroughly investigated. How is it?” he continued, turning to the two young men. “Why have you done this cruel thing?”

“I shot an arrow at a bird that was sitting on the sill of an open window in yonder house, and missed,” answered the prince. “I suppose the arrow struck the merchant’s wife. Had I known that she or anybody had been near I should not have shot in that direction.”

“We will speak of this later on,” said the king, on hearing this answer. “Dismiss the people. Their presence is no longer needed.”

Moral

Justice requires questioning appearances and seeing beyond illusion. The young prince who refused false beauty learned that true worth hides beneath the surface, waiting for discerning hearts.

Historical & Cultural Context

India’s regional folk tale tradition is a vast oral inheritance carried by grandmothers, wandering bards and village storytellers, preserving moral wisdom, social commentary and cultural memory long before any of it was written down.

The Ivory City and its fairy princess draws from Indo-Persian romance and Kathasaritsagara traditions of magical cities and trials of valor. The theme of illusion versus reality (maya) reflects deep philosophical roots in Hindu and Buddhist texts, where the senses deceive and true seeing requires spiritual maturity. Such tales were popular at Mughal and Rajput courts, where princes were taught to question appearances in politics as in romance. The archery challenge echoes Swayamvara (self-choice) ceremonies described in classical Indian epics, here transformed into a test of moral discernment rather than martial prowess.

Reflection & Discussion

1. Why did the city appear so beautiful if it was built on injustice?
2. What made the prince see through the illusion when others could not?
3. How do we tell real goodness from a beautiful fake?

Did You Know?

• India has one of the richest oral storytelling traditions in the world, with tales dating back thousands of years.
• Many Indian folk tales were passed down through generations before being written down.
• Indian folk tales often blend real-life wisdom with magical elements to teach moral lessons.

What This Tale Teaches Us Today

Old stories keep their power because their lessons never stop being useful. Here is how this one still applies:

• Shared stories are one of the strongest bonds within any community – families, cultures, or whole nations.
• Traditional stories remind us that wisdom belongs to many cultures. No single tradition holds all the answers.
• Stories that have survived for centuries have done so because their lessons still work.

Why This Story Still Matters

The Ivory City And Its Fairy Princess joins a vast global library of folk tales that human beings have been telling one another for thousands of years. Every culture has produced its own stories, but the deepest themes – courage, kindness, cleverness, loyalty, the cost of greed – appear again and again in different clothes. Modern readers who spend time with folk tales inherit something precious: a sense that people have always wrestled with the same basic questions, and that good stories can still help us find good answers. That is why these tales persist. Each one is a small tool for living, handed down quietly through generations.

Cultural Context and Continuing Influence

Folk tales like this one survived for hundreds of years through oral storytelling before any scholar thought to write them down. Grandparents told them to grandchildren, travelers traded them along roads and rivers, and mothers repeated them to babies who would one day repeat them to their own children. Each small retelling sharpened the story, discarded unnecessary parts, and polished the essential lesson. That long process of refinement is why a good folk tale feels so weighty – it has been shaped by thousands of listeners across generations, each contributing something small to the story we read today.

Modern readers sometimes wonder whether folk tales are still relevant in an age of apps and smartphones. The answer is yes, perhaps more than ever. The technology changes, but the underlying questions – about kindness, courage, loyalty, greed, family, fear, love – do not. These are the same questions that children asked around a fire in ancient India, around a hearth in medieval Ireland, around a campfire in 19th-century Korea. And they are the same questions children ask their parents today, just phrased differently. That is why a family that reads folk tales together is doing real cultural and emotional work, not simply entertaining itself.

Reading Folk Tales With Children

Reading folk tales aloud to children is one of the oldest and most effective forms of moral education. Unlike a lecture or a rule, a story slides past a child’s natural resistance and plants its lesson in the imagination, where it quietly grows. Years later, when the child meets a real situation that resembles the story – a bully at school, a dishonest coworker, a moment of temptation – the old tale rises to the surface of memory and offers guidance. That is why parents and teachers across every culture have trusted stories to do the work of raising good humans, long before formal schools or textbooks existed.

When reading this story with a young listener, try pausing at key moments and asking what the child thinks will happen next. Let them guess, even if they are wrong. That small act of prediction turns a passive listener into an active thinker. After the story ends, a simple open question – “What would you have done?” or “Who do you think was the smartest character?” – invites the child to connect the tale to their own life. Those conversations are where real learning happens, not during the reading itself but in the quiet moments that follow.

Older children and teenagers sometimes think they have outgrown folk tales. In reality, the best tales only deepen with age. A ten-year-old hears the surface plot; a fifteen-year-old notices the irony; a twenty-year-old sees the economic and political pressures on the characters; a forty-year-old understands the parents in the story for the first time. A good folk tale is a gift that keeps unfolding for decades. Families who read and reread the same stories across the years discover this naturally, and pass the discovery down.

A Final Word

Every folk tale carries within it the accumulated judgment of thousands of listeners across many generations. When a story has been told for a thousand years and still moves children today, that is not an accident. It is proof that the story is saying something true about the human condition. The wiser the listener, the more they see in a tale they have heard a hundred times before. Reading these stories slowly, out loud, with children beside us, we are joining the longest conversation our species has ever had with itself. Every tale we share is a quiet vote for patience, for meaning, and for the old idea that a good story is one of the finest things one generation can hand down to the next.

We hope this telling gave you something worth carrying into your day – a small lesson, a useful image, a question to ask your child at dinner. Folk tales do their best work in the hours and years after the reading ends, quietly shaping how we see the world and each other. Thank you for spending time with this story, and for keeping the old tradition of careful listening and thoughtful retelling alive.