Once upon a time, in a village far far away, lived a man, Panja Khan. Panja Khan was often mocked by the villagers for being a coward, he was innocent, but he was the only man in the whole village with two wives. People often wondered how such a foolish man could be so fortunate.
As fate would have it, one day the villagers began to die mysteriously. There were rumours of a balaa roaming the countryside. All the people found were mutilated dead bodies as evidence, but no one had ever actually seen the balaa.
The kotwal passed the order for all villagers to stay inside their houses after nightfall, and to keep all doors and windows shut tight.
Panja Khan, upon hearing this, ran to his house and shut the door. Locking it, he barred it with everything he could find in his house, his charpoy, his radio, some chairs, and laid his pitchfork close to him before he decided to sleep.
His wives suddenly realised that their donkey had been left outside.
They stared down at Panja, who crawled beneath his bed, “Don’t look at me, I’m not going anywhere.”
“Our poor donkey, you left it out there?” said his first wife.
“What will we do if it gets killed! Where will we find money to eat? How will you earn?” said his second wife.
“Nope, nopity nope.” cried Panja.
His wives kept convincing him, and mocking him, till Panja Khan finally agreed to leave his house. Too afraid to give himself away to the ghosts, he refused to take a lantern along. His knees shook as he staggered, making his way to where he had left his donkey.
Upon finding the animal, he insulted it, cursed it, hit it, took it by the ear, and headed back home.
As he entered his house with the animal, the women saw that he had not brought a donkey, but a lion!
“Oh, for goodness sake!” Panja Khan cowered away slowly, whilst his wives stared at each other.
Upon coming to the consensus that the lion should not be allowed to roam freely, they decided to tie it up.
“Well, sometimes wives of cowardly men have to be brave!” declared his first wife, as she rummaged around the handful of belongings they had to find some rope. The women successfully secured the animal.
The next morning, they told Panja Khan refused to leave his house. His wives went and informed the kotwal, of a slightly different story. They sang Panja’s praises, and that of his bravery, how he left the house to fight the balaa on his own, not that he found the balaa, but he found a lion instead, and captured it before it could hurt anyone.
Shocked as he was, the kotwal informed the King. Pleased to hear the story, the King invited Panja Khan to his palace. As they sat on the shahi dastarkhwan, not only did His Majesty reward Panja Khan with a lot of gold coins, but he also gave Panja Khan a royal uniform and a sword.
“Today onwards, it is your royal duty to protect your village and will be you who will hunt down the balaa’s for us and protect our people” declared the King.
Panja Khan headed home. Make no mistake, despite being a coward, he did not come off as meek. He was rather the opposite, at least in his looks: he was handsome,6.5 feet tall, broadly built, and had long moustaches.
The following day, Panja Khan returned home. He wailed while his wives celebrated their new riches. Their husband was the talk of the town, in a good way for a change, and they enjoyed the newfound respect and attention.
After dusk, his wives began to think. They knew Panja Khan didn’t have it in him to face a balaa, leave alone fight one, but they did not want to be put to death for defying the King’s order either.
Panja Khan was convinced to put on his uniform, pick up his new sword, and roam in the street for a while, till some footsoldier saw him at least, so the kotwal would hear that he was doing his dusty.
Much to his dismay, his street was empty. There wasn’t a soul around. Panja Khan decided to walk to the next street, find a soldier, and make a dash back home.
However, he found no soldiers in the next street either, he did find an old woman, sitting by the roadside. She had her face in her dupatta and wailed and cried.
Panja Khan asked her if she was alright. The old woman stared into the distance and pointed.
He glanced in the direction she pointed in, and his heart came into his throat. There was a corpse, of a fine young man, lying on the roof.
“Please help me. Please lift me over so I can kiss my son’s forehead one last time. Ah! I cannot even take him home with me. I don’t even know if his corpse will be here tomorrow! The balaa, curse the balaa.” she cried.
Panja Khan’s soft heart melted, and he agreed. He let her stand on his shoulders and raised her over to reach the dead man lying on the roof.
A few seconds later, he felt something warm drop on his shoulder. He looked up to see, and the old woman was eating that dead man! It was the balaa! Panja Khan flung his hands around and ran for his dear life.
He came home, panting, pale, and afraid. His wives gave him water and looked at him gravely.
“What?” he asked.
“You left your sword behind.”
“What?”
“It was the royal sword! The King will have your head for losing it!”
“What?”
“You must go and find the sword!”
Panja freaked out and refused. He narrated to his wives his encounter with the balaa, disguised as an old woman, and told them that if they were so worried to lose their heads, they were more than welcome to go look for the sword themselves!
Shaking their heads in disappointment, the women took along a lantern, a sword, and a pitchfork, as they made their way to the next street.
They didn’t find the balaa, but they find their husband’s sword, as well as the hand of an old woman.
Nodding in silent agreement, the women picked up both of these and headed home. Once home, they talked amongst themselves.
“I never thought we would live to see this day!”
“Literally, Panja you did something brave after all.”
“I think when you ran away, your sword accidentally cut the Balaa’s arm off. Anyway, inform the Kotwal tomorrow morning.”
Panja Khan informed the Kotwal, who in turn informed the King. Panja Khan was invited to the palace once again. The King had never seen tangible proof of a Balaa before, and he was beyond impressed. and his efforts were rewarded with money, land, a new house, and some horses.
As fate happened, the Balaa’s kidnapped the Princess. Not only was the King distraught, and his daughter’s life was in danger, but people were questioning the safety of the palace, and their homes, hence, putting his reign in danger.
Panja Khan was summoned. The King ordered him to bring back his daughter. Panja Khan, unable to say much at the moment, nodded his head. As soon as he came home, he was down with a fever. The Kotwal came to check up on him, seeing that Panja Khan had not left the city. His wives informed the Kotwal that he was ill, and would leave the following morning, but the Kotwal would have none of it.
“Not only will the King behead him and you both, but he will also behead me. Send him immediately!”
His wives were at a loss. They had already earned respect and riches, did it really matter what happens now? They handed Panja Khan his sword, propped him onto the horse gifted to him by the King, and tied him up.
People wondered why Panja Khan was being tied up. Not only was it comical, but it was also something unheard of before! Why in the world were warriors' wives tying him up to his horse? Ridiculous!
Panja Khan’s wives were quick to come up with an alibi. They told the villagers that Panja Khan had himself asked to be tied up to the horse. He knew he was headed for death, but he did not want his corpse to fall off his horse even if he died.
The onlookers stared, bewildered, as Panja Khan’s wives patted the horse, and the horse galloped straight to the corner of the village where the Balaa’s had set up camp, just close to the forest.
Tied up as he was, Panja Khan had never ridden a donkey before, leave alone a horse. He had no clue how to stop the animal. Meanwhile, at camp, the Balaa saw a horseman headed straight for them and gathered in big numbers at the gates.
Panja Khan saw a big three he would be passing by. As a last resort, he tried to grab the tree, hoping to stop the horse. Fate had other plans. The tree was weak, and termites had eaten away at the bark. It was waiting for a gust of wind. The tree, along with its roots, fell into Panja Khan’s hands.
When the Balaa’s saw a mysterious horseman, headed straight for them at full speed, with a sword in one hand and a tree in the other, they freaked out. Leaving their posts, the camp, and the princess, they disappeared into the forest.
The horse stopped a little way from the tents. Panja Khan used his sword to cut off the rope and took the Princess along with him. They rode back, straight to the palace. The people celebrated, and as a reward, the King let Panja Khan marry the Princess, and also appointed him as a Wazeer-e-Sultanate (Minister in the empire).
Notes on Translation:
A Balaa is a creature common between many countries in South Asian lore. Feminine and wicked, it lures men to their deaths. It has the ability to shapeshift - it can appear in the form of a beautiful maiden or of an old woman.
Shahi Dastarkhwan: the closest English alternative would be "Royal Table", but a dastarkhwan is not a table per se. It is a clean sheet of cloth spread on the floor, around which people sit to have their meal. In many Pakistani cultures, floor settings were the norm.
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