শতৰূপা || Xatarupa

hó-tó-rupa

In a far away kingdom of roses, there lived a princess called Xatarupa. Though she was the king’s only heir, her realm was passed on to her uncle simply because she was a woman. Her inheritance was taken from her, leaving her without a title or claim. Xatarupa, however, was also not an ordinary woman, she was the most learned of her kingdom, an expert botanist with a sharp mind and  a heart of gold.

She was, however, the only one to believe the legend of her great-great-great grandmother who had discovered a golden rose in the thickest and darkest patch of rose gardens they had on the palace grounds. The rose was said to be the most powerful, awaiting its rightful picker. It grows on its special golden bush, every decade, blooming for twenty-one moons. To reach it, one has to pass the prickly thorns that tested physical resilience, then the inner circle was of the leaves that tested one’s mental aptitude. Finally was the circle of red and white roses that asked questions of righteousness and only let the ones with the strongest character pass. Since generations of kings and princes who had tried to go into the darkest patch had all failed, and the golden rose was only discovered by a woman, the people dismissed it as a fable to glorify the cursed garden.

The men who now ruled Xatarupa’s kingdom thought they knew the kingdom best, but had never dared to venture out into the deadly garden. Xatarupa being the woman she was, decided to sneak out of her chambers into the garden during the darkest hours of the night. Though fraught with danger, she believed her grandmother’s words, and believed in her heart that she could find the rose. As she stepped into the garden, the thorns pricked her arms, legs and face. She took little but steady steps deeper into the garden not knowing what lay ahead. The painstaking and bloody walk then gave way to the whisper of leaves. The leaves demanded answers to their riddles, “I dance in the dark but never fall, I come every night but disappear with dawn.” When Xatarupa responds with the right answer, “the flame of a lamp” in this case, the leaves give way. “The more you take, the more you leave behind,” “Footsteps.” “I can be cracked, I can be made, I can be told, I can be played,” “A joke.” 

Having all the right answers, she found her way to the circle of roses. Here she needed to use her heart to answer the questions the flowers asked, “If you were given a rare treasure, would you use it for your personal gain, or share it among others?” To this, she firmly responded, “Such a treasure, if bestowed upon me, would not only serve my purpose but must be used judiciously. In doing so, I would ensure its benefits are shared with others. If I were to hoard it for myself or give it away without thought, I would be doing an injustice- to either others or myself- both equally incorrect.”  

Her words carried the wisdom of balance, acknowledging that a true treasure’s value lies in how it is wielded and shared. The flowers, impressed with her honesty and intentions, showed her the way to the golden rose. As she approached the rose, her wounds had healed, she felt stronger and better. She held the flower with care, picked it and made her way back to her palace. With the break of dawn and her newfound magical strength, her journey back was quicker and far less painstaking. As she emerged from the garden with the rose, the men who had once dismissed her were now mesmerised by her glory. They felt ashamed of how they had behaved with her earlier and accepted her as the true heir. 

From that day onwards, in the kingdom of roses, daughters were never denied their rightful inheritance, and neither was their strength and resilience questioned. Xatarupa began to be known as not just an expert botanist but also one of the greatest, strongest and smartest queens of all times.