Once upon a time, in a small village in Tripura, there lived a young man who, along with his wife, was returning home after completing a customary apprenticeship at his in-laws’ house. Since their path led through a dense forest, they decided to begin their journey early, hoping to reach home before sunset. The road was deserted, and a gentle wind blew softly around them. As they entered the forest, just before dusk, a mesmerizing fragrance suddenly filled the air, carried by the breeze from an unfamiliar flower. Intrigued, the bride asked her husband about the flower.

“Oh! What a lovely fragrance. What is the name of this flower?” she asked.

Husband: “This is ‘Kherengbar Bubar’—a type of orchid.”

Wife: “What kind of flower is that? I’ve never heard of or smelled anything like it.”

Unable to resist the temptation, the bride wanted to wear the flowers in her hair. She eagerly asked her husband to pluck some for her.

“Could you please pluck some of those flowers for me? I’d love to wear them in my bun.”

Her husband, however, warned her.

“Oh, my dear! You cannot wear these flowers. They are known as the flowers of heaven, blooming only for the Gods. ‘If any man dares to touch them, he is bound to face his doom.’”

Naturally, his warning only deepened her curiosity. She then asked him why the flower was called the flower of heaven and how it had come to Earth. Her husband, looking solemn, explained:

“Well, a long time ago, an apsara (a heavenly nymph) was cursed and sent to live on Earth. She brought with her a seedling of her favorite flower and planted it here. It only clings to the branches of other trees, as it has no roots and cannot grow on its own.”

Disappointed that she couldn’t wear such a beautiful flower, the bride pouted. Noticing her sadness, her husband decided to pluck some flowers for her anyway, but he added a serious warning:

“I will pluck them for you, but please do not wear them in your hair. If you do, I might turn into a hoolock (a type of gibbon).”

With that, he climbed the tree and tossed a few bunches of flowers down to her. However, despite his warning, she could not resist and quickly placed the flowers in her bun. Almost immediately, her husband, still in the tree, noticed strange changes in his body. His form began to shift.

“Dear! Did you put the flowers in your hair? I warned you! I’m losing my human form!” he cried out in panic.

Terrified, the wife looked up and saw her husband gradually turning into a hoolock. Shocked by the transformation, she quickly realized her mistake and threw the flowers to the ground. Her eyes filled with tears as she wept.

“What have I done? How will I live without you? Where will I go?” she sobbed.

By then, her husband had almost fully transformed into a hoolock. Struggling to communicate, he gestured for her to leave immediately and return home. He instructed her to tell everyone what had happened and reassured her that they would meet again in their next life. His words, however, only deepened her despair.

“I am the reason for all of this. I can’t live without you, and I will die here,” she cried, blaming herself for the tragedy.

In her grief, she began to bang her head against the tree. Her husband, now completely a hoolock, could only watch helplessly. Soon, her cries grew silent. Her lifeless body lay still on the ground, her blood staining the earth. The hoolock, powerless to stop her, let out a mournful cry: “hoo-hoo-hoo.”

In her next life, the wife was reborn as a lizard in the same forest, punished for her actions. Even today, in the months of March and April (Baisakh), when the Kherengbar blooms, the hoolock remembers his past life and calls out with his “hoo-hoo-hoo.” The lizard, too, beats its tail on the ground, expressing the unfulfilled desires of her previous life.

Moved by this tragic story, the Gods took away all the fragrance from the Kherengbar flower to prevent any such sorrow from happening again. And that is why today, the Kherengbar flower has no fragrance.

A Folkstory from Tripura sourced from Folktales of Tripura compiled by Jagadis Gan-Chaudhuri

Edited by Pauline A

Click here to submit your Folklore.