CANDI PRAMBANAN
In the old days of Java Island, in a region called Prambanan, lies two kingdom. Kingdom of Pengging and Kraton Boko. Pengging kingdom is gifted with a fertile and get prosperous. The kingdom is lead by a wise king named Prabu Damar Moyo and has a male son named Raden Bandung Bondowoso while Kraton Boko is a kingdom that obey under the rules of Pengging. The Boko king is very cruel, he is strong and tall, like a giant. The people of Boko always afraid of the kings anger. Although the king were not handsome, he has a very beautiful daughter called Princess Roro Jongrang.
One day, the king of Boko wants to rebels against the Pengging. Lead by the Boko prime minister, the giant race, Gopolo, the Boko army is prepared to announce the war between Boko and Pengging. They even raid its own people's properties to support the campaign.
One day, the king of Boko wants to rebels against the Pengging. Lead by the Boko prime minister, the giant race, Gopolo, the Boko army is prepared to announce the war between Boko and Pengging. They even raid its own people's properties to support the campaign.
Fierce war happens in the borders of the Pengging teritorial mark. Many victims were falling on both sides and people Pengging be suffering because of war, many people hunger and poverty. Knowing his people suffer and have many victims soldiers who died in the borders, then Prabu Damar Moyo sent his son Raden Bondowoso go to war against King Boko. The young Bondowoso is able to defeat king Boko. Seeing the king died, then Prime minister Gupolo escape. Raden Bondowoso pursue Patih Gupolo to Kraton Boko.
After reaching Kraton Boko, Patih Gupolo reported on Princess Roro Jonggrang that his father had been lost in the battlefield, by a knight named Raden Bandung Pengging Bondowoso. Princess Loro Jonggrang wept, saddened his heart because his father had been killed on the battlefield. Raden at Kraton Boko Bondowoso arrived, soom he troubled to see Puteri Raden Bondowoso Loro Jonggrang beautiful, so he wanted to marry Princess Loro Jonggrang as his wife.
As the Boko kingdom is lost in the rebels, and o save her fathers kingdom, the Loro Puteri Raden Jonggrang accept the princes, with some request. She did not want to marry Bondowoso because he had killed his father. To reject the proposal Raden Bondowoso, then Princess Loro Jonggrang have a strategy. The first request, Princess Loro Jonggrang asked for Jalatunda wells (very deep well) while the second request, asked for him to make 1000 temples in one night.
After reaching Kraton Boko, Patih Gupolo reported on Princess Roro Jonggrang that his father had been lost in the battlefield, by a knight named Raden Bandung Pengging Bondowoso. Princess Loro Jonggrang wept, saddened his heart because his father had been killed on the battlefield. Raden at Kraton Boko Bondowoso arrived, soom he troubled to see Puteri Raden Bondowoso Loro Jonggrang beautiful, so he wanted to marry Princess Loro Jonggrang as his wife.
As the Boko kingdom is lost in the rebels, and o save her fathers kingdom, the Loro Puteri Raden Jonggrang accept the princes, with some request. She did not want to marry Bondowoso because he had killed his father. To reject the proposal Raden Bondowoso, then Princess Loro Jonggrang have a strategy. The first request, Princess Loro Jonggrang asked for Jalatunda wells (very deep well) while the second request, asked for him to make 1000 temples in one night.
Raden Bandung Bondowoso agreed. Raden Bondowoso Immediately make Jalatunda wells and after so he called Princess Roro Jonggrang to see the well. She trick the prince and send him down. She ask Boko's prime minister to close the well with heavy rocks so that the prince could not reach the top of the well. Raden Bondowoso is a tough man, he is also smart. Its not a longtime before he was able to come out from the wells. He was very angry to the princess, but soon after meet the princess, he falls again with the beauty of the princess
She ask Raden Bondowoso the second request, to make 1000 temples in 1 night. Bondowoso then command his workers from genie tribe to help him build the 1000 temple. The 1000 temples are building up, one by one with the help of the genie tribes. The princess wants to sabotage the building of the temples. She asks her servants to pound the rice pounding tools and also burns lots of paddy's straw .
She ask Raden Bondowoso the second request, to make 1000 temples in 1 night. Bondowoso then command his workers from genie tribe to help him build the 1000 temple. The 1000 temples are building up, one by one with the help of the genie tribes. The princess wants to sabotage the building of the temples. She asks her servants to pound the rice pounding tools and also burns lots of paddy's straw .
Because of it, the roosters crowed. The genie take a lookto the sky and its brighter in the east. The leader of the genie reported to Bondowoso that they have stopped to make the temple because the morning has arrived. Princess Roro Jonggrang told to count the temples and its only 999 temples, not 1000.
So, Bondowoso won't be able to marry the princess because he failed to complete the request. Being deceived and tricked, Raden Bondowoso angry and curse Princess Roro Jonggrang. "It's missing one, and you that should fit the numbers". The princess is soon turned into a stone statue; it is exist in the heart of the Prambanan temples until now.
So, Bondowoso won't be able to marry the princess because he failed to complete the request. Being deceived and tricked, Raden Bondowoso angry and curse Princess Roro Jonggrang. "It's missing one, and you that should fit the numbers". The princess is soon turned into a stone statue; it is exist in the heart of the Prambanan temples until now.
NYI RORO KIDUL
Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess named Kadita. Because of her beauty she was called Dewi Srengenge which mean The beautiful sun. Her father was King Munding Wangi. Although he had a beautiful daughter he always unhappy because he always expected to have a son. The King decided to merry Dewi Mutiara, and he had a son from her. He was very happy. Dewi Mutiara wanted her son to become a king in the future so she must make sure for it. Dewi mutiara came to the king and asked him to send away his daughter. Of course, the king did not agree. "It is ridiculous, I will not allow any body doing such cruel thing to my daughter", said King Munding Wangi. When she heard the answer, Dewi mutiara smiled and said a sweet thing until the king has not anger anymore. However, she kept her bad intention deep in her heart.
In the morning before the sun raised, Dewi Mutiara sent her maid to call a black magician. She wanted the black magician to curse Kadita, her step daughter. " I want her beautiful body full with scabies and itch. If you succeeded I will reward you with the present you never thought before". The black magician did the queen order, in the night Kadita body has been full with scabies and itch. When She waked up , she found her body was smell stinky and have a ulcer all over her body. The beautiful princess cried and did not know what to do.
When The King heard he was very sad, he invited many physician to cure her daughter illness. Day by the day nobody could cure her daughter. He realized that her daughter illness it was not a ordinary illness someone must send a curse or magic spell. His problem became more difficult when the Queen Dewi Mutiara forced him to send away her daughter. "Your daughter will bring a bad luck to whole country, said Dewi Mutiara. The king did not want her daughter become a bad rumour in whole country. Finally he must agree to send her only daughter to leave the country.
The poor princess went alone, she didn't know to where she should go. She almost could not cry anymore. She had a nobble heart. She did not have any bad feeling with her step mother, instead she always asked the God to accompany her passed her suffer.
Almost seven day and seven night she has walked until she came to south ocean. She looked at the ocean. It was so clean and clear, unlike other ocean which have a blue or green colour. She jumped onto the water and swim. Suddenly when the south ocean water touched her skin there was a miracle happened. Her ulcer has gone and there was no sign that she has ever had a scabies or itch. Even more she became more beautiful than before. Not only that she has a power to command whole of the south ocean. Now she became a fairy called Nyi Roro Kidul or The Queen of South Ocean who lived forever.
This is the most spectacular legend until now in the modern life even when you read this story, many people from Indonesia or from other country has admitted that they have met the beautiful fairy queen wear a traditional dress of Java. One of the famous beach hotel has made a suit room specially for her.
KEMBANG MELATI & KUPU-KUPU EMAS
Kembang Melati’s a beautiful young princess, lived with her old nurse and many serving-women in a palace on the bank of a great river.
Rajah Banjir, the monarch of the rains, lived in his rainbow-colored palace on the other bank of the river. He could cause floods to appear at his will, and his tears made brooks and rivers swell. From his windows he could see the little princess weaving her bridal dress, and he could hear her singing a song for luck. But the princess never looked toward his side of the river.
The monarch of the rains kept gazing at her with great sad eyes. Because he was so sad, he wept many tears, and the river swelled and the wind sighed softly through the high trees around the palace. The princess heard the sighing of the wind, and saw the river rising higher and higher. But she did not know that it was her future husband who was weeping and calling to her.
For many days the monarch of the rains yearned for the princess. Finally, to be near her, he changed himself into a golden butterfly and flew back and forth before her window until at last the princess saw him and opened the window so that she could admire his dazzling wings.
^ Then the golden butterfly lighted on Kembang Melati’s little hand, kissed her finger tips, and flew out of the window.
A few days later the butterfly returned and perched on Kembang Melati’s right ear and whispered to her, "Weave your bridal dress quickly, princess, for soon your bridegroom will come."
The princess heard only the word "bridegroom." She asked, 'Where is my bridegroom?" The butterfly did not answer her, for he had flown out of the window.
But someone else had heard her question. That was Nasiman, the wicked son of the princess's old nurse. He went to his mother at once. "Mother," he said, "I was standing outside the princess's window and I heard her ask, 'Where is my bridegroom?' I want you to go to her and tell her that I am her bridegroom."
'That you can never be, son/' the old woman said, "because you are not of noble birth."
"Nevertheless, I wish to marry the princess," he answered.
"Go to her, Mother, and tell her that her bridegroom has come”
Nasiman was wicked and cruel, and his mother was afraid of him. So she went to the princess and told her of the bridegroom who had come to claim her hand. Just then the golden butterfly flew back and whispered in the princess's ear, "The real bridegroom has not yet come, princess. The one who is now under your roof is a wicked man. His name is Nasiman, and he is the son of your old nurse, Sarinah. Do not many him. . . . Wait till the true bridegroom comes!"
When the golden butterfly had flown away, the princess said, "I will wait, nurse, till the true bridegroom comes/'
"This is the true bridegroom/' the nurse insisted. She clasped her hands and begged, "Oh, princess, dear princess, marry him at once, for if you do not, we shall both die!”
The princess did not want to die. So finally she said to her nurse, "Tell the bridegroom who has come that I must have seven days to think it over. Tell him to wait on the bank of the river and I will send him my answer there/'
Nasiman found this idea good, and agreed. He took a big basket, filled it with food to last him seven days, and had it carried to a spot on the bank of the river.
On that same day the monarch of the rains called to him a white crow, one of his best and biggest messenger-birds, and gave her a little chest full of costly ornaments and a letter.
"Take these immediately to the Princess Kembang Melati," he ordered, "and make sure that you don't lose anything."
"Don't worry, master," the crow replied. "I myself will take everything to the princess."
The white crow flew off with the little chest bound fast to her back and the letter between 'her claws, and winged her way to the opposite bank of the river. There she saw Nasiman eating the last of a delicious-looking fish. The white crow, who loved fish, flew over swiftly, and cried, "Oh, how good that looks! May I have a little bite?"
"How do you dare ask me that?" Nasiman demanded crossly. "Who are you, and where do you come from, with a letter in your claws and a chest on your back?"
"Well," the crow answered smugly, "I happen to be the messenger of the great magician, the monarch of the rains! And I am to take this letter and this little chest to the Princess Kembang Melati, as my master ordered. What's more, I am to give them to her myself."
"Hmm/' Nasiman said with a false little laugh. "In that case, Til let you eat some of my fish. Put down your letter and take the chest from your back, and fall to!"
The white crow didn't have to be invited twice. She laid the letter and the little chest in the grass, and began to eat greedily of the delicious bit of fish.
Nasiman lost no time. He opened the chest, took out the beautiful golden ornaments and in their place put some "big spiders and some gruesome-looking scorpions. Then he hurried to his mother with the letter. "Mother/ 7 he said, "I can't read, but I imagine that this letter must be full of lovely words. Now I want you to change them, at once, into ugly words. Meanwhile I'll hide these ornaments."
The white crow was so busy eating that she did not notice what was going on. She ate the fish, down to the last scrap. Then she went to get a drink at the spring. The spring murmured to her, "Ah, white crow, why didn't you take the letter and the little chest to the princess as Rajah Banjir said?"
But the white crow didn't hear. She didn't hear the wind, either, sighing to her, "Ah, white crow, something dreadful will happen because of your greediness!"
And something dreadful did happen. When the princess saw the white crow come, bearing the letter and the little chest, she believed that the bird came from her true bridegroom, and in great excitement she decided to read the letter first. As her eyes flew over the words, she could hardly believe what she read: "You are very ugly," the letter said, "and what is in the little chest is foul and old. That goes, too, for your green hair and your blue skin."
She was so angry that she tore the letter into shreds and tossed the little chest, without opening it, through the window. The spiders and the scorpions swarmed over the garden to the great astonishment of the white crow who could not understand how her master could have sent such horrible things to the lovely princess.
But Nasiinan laughed to himself. Now the princess would marry him, he thought
But the princess had no thought of marrying anyone now. She was bitterly grieved by the ugly letter. Weeping, she paced back and forth in her chamber. No one could comfort her, and she cried, "Take away my weaving stool! I will never weave again on my bridal gown!"
Toward evening of that sad day the golden butterfly came back and flew through the open window. He lit on the princess's ear. "Darling princess," he whispered, "why don't you wear the beautiful ornaments that your bridegroom sent you?"
At that the princess hit at him with an angiy hand. The great monarch of the rains thought surely she was only teasing him. He whispered in her ear again: "Beloved little princess, would you like to see your bridegroom tomorrow morning? He will take you to his rainbow-colored palace where the golden rays of the sun are magnified a thousand times into the most wonderful colors, and where you shall see woven cloth so fine, so dazzling, that it is like moonbeams! Come, darling princess, finish weaving your bridal gown, for tomorrow your bridegroom comes!"
The princess grew even angrier. She called her serving women to her and bade them chase the golden butterfly away and never again to let it come inside. When the great magician heard the princess say these words he became so angry that he caused a mighty flood to come over the land that very night. Everything that was not submerged drifted away, torn loose from the land. The palace with Princess Kembang Melati and her nurse and the wicked Nasiman and all the others who lived in it, drifted on the floodwaters.
The palace drifted farther and farther, until it came near the other bank where the palace of the great monarch of the rains stood. The king was in his doorway, watching, but when he saw the princess's palace floating toward him he pretended not to see it. The princess cried piteously for help, but he pretended not to hear.
They were drifting out of sight when the nurse cried out in despair, "It's my fault! I bear the blame! It was I who changed the beautiful words of the letter into ugly ones! And my son, Nasiman, filled the little chest with spiders and scorpions while the white crow was eating the fish 1 /'
When he heard the nurse's confession, the monarch of the rains understood everything. He leaped down and dragged the princess and all the others out of the drifting palace and brought them into his own. Only her old nurse and the nurse's wicked son were not permitted to enter,
"May great waves engulf you!" he thundered. And at his words mighty waves, as high as the heavens, rose in the water and swallowed up the nurse and her son.
The white crow was punished, too, for her greediness. She was changed into a black bird which could never speak again.
All she could say was, "Kaw . . . kaw . . . kaw . . . kr - kr. . . ." It meant "gold . . . gold/' But though the crow searched, she never could find the gold and jewels with which the little chest had been filled.
When the evildoers were punished, the monarch of the rains caused the flood to subside. In a short time, the whole world was dry once more, and when he had accomplished that he turned to the princess and told her that he was the son of a nobleman and that for days and nights he had yearned for her.
Kembang Melati took pity on him. She knew that he was truly her bridegroom from the way he spoke to her. So she married him and lived the rest of her happy life with him in the rainbow-colored palace on the bank of the river.
Rajah Banjir, the monarch of the rains, lived in his rainbow-colored palace on the other bank of the river. He could cause floods to appear at his will, and his tears made brooks and rivers swell. From his windows he could see the little princess weaving her bridal dress, and he could hear her singing a song for luck. But the princess never looked toward his side of the river.
The monarch of the rains kept gazing at her with great sad eyes. Because he was so sad, he wept many tears, and the river swelled and the wind sighed softly through the high trees around the palace. The princess heard the sighing of the wind, and saw the river rising higher and higher. But she did not know that it was her future husband who was weeping and calling to her.
For many days the monarch of the rains yearned for the princess. Finally, to be near her, he changed himself into a golden butterfly and flew back and forth before her window until at last the princess saw him and opened the window so that she could admire his dazzling wings.
^ Then the golden butterfly lighted on Kembang Melati’s little hand, kissed her finger tips, and flew out of the window.
A few days later the butterfly returned and perched on Kembang Melati’s right ear and whispered to her, "Weave your bridal dress quickly, princess, for soon your bridegroom will come."
The princess heard only the word "bridegroom." She asked, 'Where is my bridegroom?" The butterfly did not answer her, for he had flown out of the window.
But someone else had heard her question. That was Nasiman, the wicked son of the princess's old nurse. He went to his mother at once. "Mother," he said, "I was standing outside the princess's window and I heard her ask, 'Where is my bridegroom?' I want you to go to her and tell her that I am her bridegroom."
'That you can never be, son/' the old woman said, "because you are not of noble birth."
"Nevertheless, I wish to marry the princess," he answered.
"Go to her, Mother, and tell her that her bridegroom has come”
Nasiman was wicked and cruel, and his mother was afraid of him. So she went to the princess and told her of the bridegroom who had come to claim her hand. Just then the golden butterfly flew back and whispered in the princess's ear, "The real bridegroom has not yet come, princess. The one who is now under your roof is a wicked man. His name is Nasiman, and he is the son of your old nurse, Sarinah. Do not many him. . . . Wait till the true bridegroom comes!"
When the golden butterfly had flown away, the princess said, "I will wait, nurse, till the true bridegroom comes/'
"This is the true bridegroom/' the nurse insisted. She clasped her hands and begged, "Oh, princess, dear princess, marry him at once, for if you do not, we shall both die!”
The princess did not want to die. So finally she said to her nurse, "Tell the bridegroom who has come that I must have seven days to think it over. Tell him to wait on the bank of the river and I will send him my answer there/'
Nasiman found this idea good, and agreed. He took a big basket, filled it with food to last him seven days, and had it carried to a spot on the bank of the river.
On that same day the monarch of the rains called to him a white crow, one of his best and biggest messenger-birds, and gave her a little chest full of costly ornaments and a letter.
"Take these immediately to the Princess Kembang Melati," he ordered, "and make sure that you don't lose anything."
"Don't worry, master," the crow replied. "I myself will take everything to the princess."
The white crow flew off with the little chest bound fast to her back and the letter between 'her claws, and winged her way to the opposite bank of the river. There she saw Nasiman eating the last of a delicious-looking fish. The white crow, who loved fish, flew over swiftly, and cried, "Oh, how good that looks! May I have a little bite?"
"How do you dare ask me that?" Nasiman demanded crossly. "Who are you, and where do you come from, with a letter in your claws and a chest on your back?"
"Well," the crow answered smugly, "I happen to be the messenger of the great magician, the monarch of the rains! And I am to take this letter and this little chest to the Princess Kembang Melati, as my master ordered. What's more, I am to give them to her myself."
"Hmm/' Nasiman said with a false little laugh. "In that case, Til let you eat some of my fish. Put down your letter and take the chest from your back, and fall to!"
The white crow didn't have to be invited twice. She laid the letter and the little chest in the grass, and began to eat greedily of the delicious bit of fish.
Nasiman lost no time. He opened the chest, took out the beautiful golden ornaments and in their place put some "big spiders and some gruesome-looking scorpions. Then he hurried to his mother with the letter. "Mother/ 7 he said, "I can't read, but I imagine that this letter must be full of lovely words. Now I want you to change them, at once, into ugly words. Meanwhile I'll hide these ornaments."
The white crow was so busy eating that she did not notice what was going on. She ate the fish, down to the last scrap. Then she went to get a drink at the spring. The spring murmured to her, "Ah, white crow, why didn't you take the letter and the little chest to the princess as Rajah Banjir said?"
But the white crow didn't hear. She didn't hear the wind, either, sighing to her, "Ah, white crow, something dreadful will happen because of your greediness!"
And something dreadful did happen. When the princess saw the white crow come, bearing the letter and the little chest, she believed that the bird came from her true bridegroom, and in great excitement she decided to read the letter first. As her eyes flew over the words, she could hardly believe what she read: "You are very ugly," the letter said, "and what is in the little chest is foul and old. That goes, too, for your green hair and your blue skin."
She was so angry that she tore the letter into shreds and tossed the little chest, without opening it, through the window. The spiders and the scorpions swarmed over the garden to the great astonishment of the white crow who could not understand how her master could have sent such horrible things to the lovely princess.
But Nasiinan laughed to himself. Now the princess would marry him, he thought
But the princess had no thought of marrying anyone now. She was bitterly grieved by the ugly letter. Weeping, she paced back and forth in her chamber. No one could comfort her, and she cried, "Take away my weaving stool! I will never weave again on my bridal gown!"
Toward evening of that sad day the golden butterfly came back and flew through the open window. He lit on the princess's ear. "Darling princess," he whispered, "why don't you wear the beautiful ornaments that your bridegroom sent you?"
At that the princess hit at him with an angiy hand. The great monarch of the rains thought surely she was only teasing him. He whispered in her ear again: "Beloved little princess, would you like to see your bridegroom tomorrow morning? He will take you to his rainbow-colored palace where the golden rays of the sun are magnified a thousand times into the most wonderful colors, and where you shall see woven cloth so fine, so dazzling, that it is like moonbeams! Come, darling princess, finish weaving your bridal gown, for tomorrow your bridegroom comes!"
The princess grew even angrier. She called her serving women to her and bade them chase the golden butterfly away and never again to let it come inside. When the great magician heard the princess say these words he became so angry that he caused a mighty flood to come over the land that very night. Everything that was not submerged drifted away, torn loose from the land. The palace with Princess Kembang Melati and her nurse and the wicked Nasiman and all the others who lived in it, drifted on the floodwaters.
The palace drifted farther and farther, until it came near the other bank where the palace of the great monarch of the rains stood. The king was in his doorway, watching, but when he saw the princess's palace floating toward him he pretended not to see it. The princess cried piteously for help, but he pretended not to hear.
They were drifting out of sight when the nurse cried out in despair, "It's my fault! I bear the blame! It was I who changed the beautiful words of the letter into ugly ones! And my son, Nasiman, filled the little chest with spiders and scorpions while the white crow was eating the fish 1 /'
When he heard the nurse's confession, the monarch of the rains understood everything. He leaped down and dragged the princess and all the others out of the drifting palace and brought them into his own. Only her old nurse and the nurse's wicked son were not permitted to enter,
"May great waves engulf you!" he thundered. And at his words mighty waves, as high as the heavens, rose in the water and swallowed up the nurse and her son.
The white crow was punished, too, for her greediness. She was changed into a black bird which could never speak again.
All she could say was, "Kaw . . . kaw . . . kaw . . . kr - kr. . . ." It meant "gold . . . gold/' But though the crow searched, she never could find the gold and jewels with which the little chest had been filled.
When the evildoers were punished, the monarch of the rains caused the flood to subside. In a short time, the whole world was dry once more, and when he had accomplished that he turned to the princess and told her that he was the son of a nobleman and that for days and nights he had yearned for her.
Kembang Melati took pity on him. She knew that he was truly her bridegroom from the way he spoke to her. So she married him and lived the rest of her happy life with him in the rainbow-colored palace on the bank of the river.
TRISNAWATI RATU GUNUNG PADI
TISNA WATI lived with her father, Batara Guru, in the god's heaven. Now Tisna Wati was a most beautiful and charming little goddess, but she wasn't at all happy in the gods 7 heaven.
Sometimes, when she looked down at the earth, far below her, and saw people busy at their various tasks, she would sigh, "Oh, if only I could be an ordinary mortal!" -
And when her father had gone forth to do battle with the giants and the demons of the air, she would mourn because she could not go with him. When he came back, she would be pouting and out of humor.
One day, when she was especially surly, her father lost his temper. "Come here!" he ordered in a stem voice. "Your grumbling and your silly whims annoy me, and nothing would please me better than to send you down to earth to become an ordinary mortal. Alas, I cannot do that because you have drunk of the life-water and are immortal. But I have thought of something else for you. Til choose one of the young gods to be your husband, and he will soon teach you to get over your bad moods!"
"Oh, I already know of someone who could be my husband, Father/' the little goddess cried happily.
"Who can that be?" her father demanded. "Not one of those awful air giants, I hope. Because I absolutely forbid you to marry the son of one of my enemies."
"Oh, no, Father, it's not one of the buatas. And he doesn't live in the air, nor in the gods 7 heaven, either. He lives on the earth. Look down . . . you can see him now. He's that handsome young man who is plowing the rice field that lies on the side of the hill."
"But that's the son of a man!" her father said angrily. "He's an ordinary mortal! You can't marry him; you are the daughter of a god! You shall never marry him. I won't permit it!"
"But I will marry him!" Tisna Wati shrieked, stamping her tiny foot. "I will never marry anyone else. He shall be my husband even if I have to leave this place forever."
"And I say that you shall never marry him!" her father stormed. "I'd rather change you into a rice stalk. And let me tell you that just as soon as possible I will choose a son of one of the gods to be your husband. Do you understand?"
When Tisna Wati saw how angry her father was, she was afraid that her fate would be the same as that of Dewi Sri, the lovely wife of the great god Vishnu, who disobeyed her husband and was killed by him and changed into a rice stalk. It was her deathless spirit that lived in the fields of rice, the sawahs.
But Tisna Wati was not as meek as Dewi Sri. She would never let herself be changed into a rice stalk. And certainly she would never, never marry a son of one of the gods! She had set her heart on the handsome young mortal, plowing his fields on the hillside.
Egrly the next day her father left to seek a husband for her. But just as he was setting out, word came to him that the giants of the air and the evil demons were threatening the gods again, and he would have to go to war against them.
"When I come back, however, bring your husband with me," he said to his daughter.
Tisna Wati said meekly, 'Very well, Father." But as soon as he had left, she leaped on the wings of the wind and was floated down to earth. The wind was kind to her and took her close to the hillside where the young man was plowing his rice field.
Tisna Wati said to herself, "Now I can really see him close/' And she sat down on the slope of the hill to wait for the young man to notice her.
When he turned at the end of a row, he saw her. And he thought she was as beautiful as a vision. He came to her and said, wonderingly, ''What are you looking for, lovely maiden?'
"I'm looking for my husband/ Tisna Wati answered, laughing.
It was such a strange answer that the young man began to laugh, too, and they laughed together. They laughed because they were happy and in love, and the sound of their laughter rose to the heavens. That was their undoing.
For when their voices reached the place where Tisna Wati's father was battling against the giants and the demons, he heard it. He stopped and listened. That was his daughter's voice! And the voice of a strange young man! He bent and looked toward the earth . . . and there he saw his daughter,
sitting beside a handsome young man, and their joyous laughter was louder to him than the noise of battle.
Raving with anger, Batara Guru gave up the battle with his enemies and flew down to earth. When he came to the hillside where his daughter sat beside the young man, he thundered, "Come with me at once! I'm taking you back to
the gods' heaven."
But Tisna Wati had no desire to return to the gods' heaven. She was in love with the young man, and her love was stronger than her father's will.
"No," she said firmly, "I am never going back. I'd rather become an ordinary mortal and stay here on earth with my beloved."
"Then stay you shall!" her father roared angrily. "But not as the daughter of a god, and not as a mortal, either! You shall become a rice stalk and your spirit shall become one with this rice field." Even as he spoke, Tisna Wati changed from a goddess into a slim rice stalk.
When the slender rice stalk bent toward the young man, he stroked it with loving fingers. His plowing was forgotten, everything was forgotten, and in his sorrow he could only gaze at the graceful stalk that had been his beloved Tisna Wati.
When Batara Guru saw this, he was overcome with remorse. "I could have left them together," he said. "Now I cannot change her back . . . she must remain a rice stalk forever, for her spirit is already here in this rice field. But
perhaps I could change him into a rice stalk, too/'
When he had done this, he saw how the two stalks bent toward each other, as if they were telling how much they loved one another. He watched them a while, and shook his great head. "It is well/' he muttered to himself, and flew back to the gods' heaven.
And ever since that day, the story says, the spirit of Tisna Wati has been in the mountain rice, just as the spirit of Dewi Sri is in the sawah rice.
But where the spirit of the handsome young man went, no one knows.
Sometimes, when she looked down at the earth, far below her, and saw people busy at their various tasks, she would sigh, "Oh, if only I could be an ordinary mortal!" -
And when her father had gone forth to do battle with the giants and the demons of the air, she would mourn because she could not go with him. When he came back, she would be pouting and out of humor.
One day, when she was especially surly, her father lost his temper. "Come here!" he ordered in a stem voice. "Your grumbling and your silly whims annoy me, and nothing would please me better than to send you down to earth to become an ordinary mortal. Alas, I cannot do that because you have drunk of the life-water and are immortal. But I have thought of something else for you. Til choose one of the young gods to be your husband, and he will soon teach you to get over your bad moods!"
"Oh, I already know of someone who could be my husband, Father/' the little goddess cried happily.
"Who can that be?" her father demanded. "Not one of those awful air giants, I hope. Because I absolutely forbid you to marry the son of one of my enemies."
"Oh, no, Father, it's not one of the buatas. And he doesn't live in the air, nor in the gods 7 heaven, either. He lives on the earth. Look down . . . you can see him now. He's that handsome young man who is plowing the rice field that lies on the side of the hill."
"But that's the son of a man!" her father said angrily. "He's an ordinary mortal! You can't marry him; you are the daughter of a god! You shall never marry him. I won't permit it!"
"But I will marry him!" Tisna Wati shrieked, stamping her tiny foot. "I will never marry anyone else. He shall be my husband even if I have to leave this place forever."
"And I say that you shall never marry him!" her father stormed. "I'd rather change you into a rice stalk. And let me tell you that just as soon as possible I will choose a son of one of the gods to be your husband. Do you understand?"
When Tisna Wati saw how angry her father was, she was afraid that her fate would be the same as that of Dewi Sri, the lovely wife of the great god Vishnu, who disobeyed her husband and was killed by him and changed into a rice stalk. It was her deathless spirit that lived in the fields of rice, the sawahs.
But Tisna Wati was not as meek as Dewi Sri. She would never let herself be changed into a rice stalk. And certainly she would never, never marry a son of one of the gods! She had set her heart on the handsome young mortal, plowing his fields on the hillside.
Egrly the next day her father left to seek a husband for her. But just as he was setting out, word came to him that the giants of the air and the evil demons were threatening the gods again, and he would have to go to war against them.
"When I come back, however, bring your husband with me," he said to his daughter.
Tisna Wati said meekly, 'Very well, Father." But as soon as he had left, she leaped on the wings of the wind and was floated down to earth. The wind was kind to her and took her close to the hillside where the young man was plowing his rice field.
Tisna Wati said to herself, "Now I can really see him close/' And she sat down on the slope of the hill to wait for the young man to notice her.
When he turned at the end of a row, he saw her. And he thought she was as beautiful as a vision. He came to her and said, wonderingly, ''What are you looking for, lovely maiden?'
"I'm looking for my husband/ Tisna Wati answered, laughing.
It was such a strange answer that the young man began to laugh, too, and they laughed together. They laughed because they were happy and in love, and the sound of their laughter rose to the heavens. That was their undoing.
For when their voices reached the place where Tisna Wati's father was battling against the giants and the demons, he heard it. He stopped and listened. That was his daughter's voice! And the voice of a strange young man! He bent and looked toward the earth . . . and there he saw his daughter,
sitting beside a handsome young man, and their joyous laughter was louder to him than the noise of battle.
Raving with anger, Batara Guru gave up the battle with his enemies and flew down to earth. When he came to the hillside where his daughter sat beside the young man, he thundered, "Come with me at once! I'm taking you back to
the gods' heaven."
But Tisna Wati had no desire to return to the gods' heaven. She was in love with the young man, and her love was stronger than her father's will.
"No," she said firmly, "I am never going back. I'd rather become an ordinary mortal and stay here on earth with my beloved."
"Then stay you shall!" her father roared angrily. "But not as the daughter of a god, and not as a mortal, either! You shall become a rice stalk and your spirit shall become one with this rice field." Even as he spoke, Tisna Wati changed from a goddess into a slim rice stalk.
When the slender rice stalk bent toward the young man, he stroked it with loving fingers. His plowing was forgotten, everything was forgotten, and in his sorrow he could only gaze at the graceful stalk that had been his beloved Tisna Wati.
When Batara Guru saw this, he was overcome with remorse. "I could have left them together," he said. "Now I cannot change her back . . . she must remain a rice stalk forever, for her spirit is already here in this rice field. But
perhaps I could change him into a rice stalk, too/'
When he had done this, he saw how the two stalks bent toward each other, as if they were telling how much they loved one another. He watched them a while, and shook his great head. "It is well/' he muttered to himself, and flew back to the gods' heaven.
And ever since that day, the story says, the spirit of Tisna Wati has been in the mountain rice, just as the spirit of Dewi Sri is in the sawah rice.
But where the spirit of the handsome young man went, no one knows.
WONGSO DAN SEPETAK SAWAH
A STARVING BOY went wearily from village to village. His name was Dongso and he had been dismissed by a rich widow for whom he had worked, because the harvest had been so poor.
The widow was known throughout the land as the owner of the most fruitful acres, but after Dongso had come the harvest had been so meager that he alone ate more rice than the fields produced. It happened not once, but twice. The widow herself had seen how well Dongso had prepared the sawah and tended the young rice shoots, but when they had grown tall and ready to be harvested, the stalks were empty of kernels and hung limp in the sun.
After the second harvest, the village people began to whisper that the young man might be a bad spirit. Perhaps he had been sent to earth by Allah to punish the widow because she was so stingy and made such meager offerings to the village-spirit and the sawah-spirit.
The widow, of course, heard these whisperings, and in anger she dismissed Dongso, without paying him.
Weak with hunger Dongso came one evening to the outskirts of a village and knocked at the door of the first house he saw. It was a little hut in the midst of a small sawah owned by a poor old woman, Randa Derma. When Dongso knocked, she opened the door to him and he fell across the threshold.
"Please," he said feebly, "give me a handful of rice. I am starving."
"Why do you have to beg?" she asked him. "You look strong and you are young. Why don't you earn your rice? Why don't you work for your food?'*
But she was a goodhearted woman and she pulled her unexpected guest into the room without waiting for his answer. She set rice and coffee in front of him. "Eat and drink, my son/' she said. "And then tell me why you beg rather than
work."
The boy began to eat without a word, trying to make up for the many days he had gone hungry. When at last he was satisfied, he told the old woman his story. "I did my best/' he said. "I worked hard all the time I took care of the widow's sawahs. And truly I could not help it, it was not my fault, that the ears were almost always empty. I think," he said slowly, "it was because she did not make offerings to the protecting spirits and they were punishing her. And how could I force them to make the ears full of grain?"
"No, of course you couldn't/' the old woman agreed. "But if you will stay with me and work my little sawah, I will give you one fifth of the harvest yield. The trouble is, I have no buffalo. But the field isn't very big. . . ."
"It won't matter/' Dongso said. His eyes shone with gratitude for her offer. "I'll do my best for you."
Early the next morning, he started for the sawah, with only a spade. He turned the earth as if he had a fine plow and a strong buffalo working for him. When the time came for the sowing he did that, too, with speed and skill. Now he must wait with patience for the ripening. Then he would be able to harvest full, fine ears of rice! It was almost as if his wishes were coming true, for the rice stalks grew tall and straight, and the ears turned a beautiful golden yellow.
But then the worst happened, the same thing that had happened when he was working in the fields of the rich widow. The fine-looking stalks carried only empty ears, with not a grain of rice in them! He asked himself, in despair, "Can it be that this woman, too, has made no offering to the spirits? Or can it be that I am the one who brings bad luck to people?"
He couldn't bear to tell the old woman what was troubling him. She would find out for herself soon enough, when she went into the field for the harvest.
As the day drew near Dongso grew sadder and sadder. The night before the harvest he couldn't sleep a wink. He lay on his mat, tossing from side to side, thinking of the empty ears of rice in the field and how unhappy the old woman would be. The more he thought about it, the more he felt that he could
not face her disappointment when she opened the ears of rice that had been cut. Very early, long before sunup, he would leave the village; he would steal away as he had come, and beg from door to door till he found work again.
As quietly as a mouse he crept out of the hut next morning and started for the road. But before he left the village for good, he had to look once more at the little sawah where he had labored so long and faithfully. Walking sadly between the tall stalks, he looked again at the golden-yellow, empty ears. Idly he plucked one off and opened it. As he had thought, there were no rice grains in it.
Then his mouth fell open and he looked again, hardly believing what he saw. There were no grains of rice, but there were grains of gold, pure, glittering gold! He was dazed with astonishment. This couldn't be. Maybe in one ear, but surely not Dongso picked another one, and still another one, and yet another one, and each ear was filled with kernels of gold.
He ran back to the little hut, and found the old woman busy with her weaving. She looked up at him in astonishment. "Why are you so happy, Dongso?"
Dongso almost told her. But he wanted her to see the amazing sight herself. He wanted her to find the kernels of gold as he had found them. So he said, "Because today we are going to give a wonderful harvest feast, Randa Derma!"
The old woman's wrinkled face puckered sadly when he said that "No, Dongso/'. she said with a sigh, "I'm sorry, but we can't do that. We can only make a simple meal. I spent the last of my money on offerings to the spirits of the village and of the sawah so that they might bless the har-
vest. . . ."
"And so they have!" he shouted. "Wait till you see how they have blessed the harvest!" He took her by the hand and led her to the sawah. The old woman stumbled in her haste to follow his quick steps as he hurried her to the place where he had made the amazing discovery.
Dongso tore off a stalk and gave it to her. "Look inside, Little Mother/' he urged, and he watched as she opened the ear and found the golden kernels. He laughed when she shrieked with joy. "What did I tell you? What did I tell you?"
But the old woman pulled herself together quickly. "Now Allah be praised/' she said, bowing her head. "My little rice field has brought forth more than a hundred great sawahs could bring forth. Allah be praised!"
She had promised Dongso a fifth of the harvest and she gave him a fifth of the harvest. Now he was rich. He could buy himself a sawah, he could buy buffaloes, as many as he needed, as many as he wanted. But Dongso bought neither a rice field nor buffaloes. He was faithful to the old woman who had befriended him, and he took care of the many spreading sawahs she bought with the same zeal that he had taken care of her tiny sawah. And he did to others who came to help him as she had done to him he gave them one fifth of the
crop of the lush acres.
It has been so from that day to this: One fifth of each sawah's harvest is divided among the helpers. From that day to this, too, there has never been want or poverty in that district. The people of Derma have lived in peace and plenty all these years.
That's what the village was named Derma, after the old woman who had befriended Dongso and who had been so poor that she could not even offer a harvest feast. But the Javanese do not believe the village's well-being came from the fruitfulness of the countryside. They believe the good fortune of the village and its people is due to the lovely temple Dongso built to the memory of his benefactor, after she died, on the very spot where once the little sawah had been.
The widow was known throughout the land as the owner of the most fruitful acres, but after Dongso had come the harvest had been so meager that he alone ate more rice than the fields produced. It happened not once, but twice. The widow herself had seen how well Dongso had prepared the sawah and tended the young rice shoots, but when they had grown tall and ready to be harvested, the stalks were empty of kernels and hung limp in the sun.
After the second harvest, the village people began to whisper that the young man might be a bad spirit. Perhaps he had been sent to earth by Allah to punish the widow because she was so stingy and made such meager offerings to the village-spirit and the sawah-spirit.
The widow, of course, heard these whisperings, and in anger she dismissed Dongso, without paying him.
Weak with hunger Dongso came one evening to the outskirts of a village and knocked at the door of the first house he saw. It was a little hut in the midst of a small sawah owned by a poor old woman, Randa Derma. When Dongso knocked, she opened the door to him and he fell across the threshold.
"Please," he said feebly, "give me a handful of rice. I am starving."
"Why do you have to beg?" she asked him. "You look strong and you are young. Why don't you earn your rice? Why don't you work for your food?'*
But she was a goodhearted woman and she pulled her unexpected guest into the room without waiting for his answer. She set rice and coffee in front of him. "Eat and drink, my son/' she said. "And then tell me why you beg rather than
work."
The boy began to eat without a word, trying to make up for the many days he had gone hungry. When at last he was satisfied, he told the old woman his story. "I did my best/' he said. "I worked hard all the time I took care of the widow's sawahs. And truly I could not help it, it was not my fault, that the ears were almost always empty. I think," he said slowly, "it was because she did not make offerings to the protecting spirits and they were punishing her. And how could I force them to make the ears full of grain?"
"No, of course you couldn't/' the old woman agreed. "But if you will stay with me and work my little sawah, I will give you one fifth of the harvest yield. The trouble is, I have no buffalo. But the field isn't very big. . . ."
"It won't matter/' Dongso said. His eyes shone with gratitude for her offer. "I'll do my best for you."
Early the next morning, he started for the sawah, with only a spade. He turned the earth as if he had a fine plow and a strong buffalo working for him. When the time came for the sowing he did that, too, with speed and skill. Now he must wait with patience for the ripening. Then he would be able to harvest full, fine ears of rice! It was almost as if his wishes were coming true, for the rice stalks grew tall and straight, and the ears turned a beautiful golden yellow.
But then the worst happened, the same thing that had happened when he was working in the fields of the rich widow. The fine-looking stalks carried only empty ears, with not a grain of rice in them! He asked himself, in despair, "Can it be that this woman, too, has made no offering to the spirits? Or can it be that I am the one who brings bad luck to people?"
He couldn't bear to tell the old woman what was troubling him. She would find out for herself soon enough, when she went into the field for the harvest.
As the day drew near Dongso grew sadder and sadder. The night before the harvest he couldn't sleep a wink. He lay on his mat, tossing from side to side, thinking of the empty ears of rice in the field and how unhappy the old woman would be. The more he thought about it, the more he felt that he could
not face her disappointment when she opened the ears of rice that had been cut. Very early, long before sunup, he would leave the village; he would steal away as he had come, and beg from door to door till he found work again.
As quietly as a mouse he crept out of the hut next morning and started for the road. But before he left the village for good, he had to look once more at the little sawah where he had labored so long and faithfully. Walking sadly between the tall stalks, he looked again at the golden-yellow, empty ears. Idly he plucked one off and opened it. As he had thought, there were no rice grains in it.
Then his mouth fell open and he looked again, hardly believing what he saw. There were no grains of rice, but there were grains of gold, pure, glittering gold! He was dazed with astonishment. This couldn't be. Maybe in one ear, but surely not Dongso picked another one, and still another one, and yet another one, and each ear was filled with kernels of gold.
He ran back to the little hut, and found the old woman busy with her weaving. She looked up at him in astonishment. "Why are you so happy, Dongso?"
Dongso almost told her. But he wanted her to see the amazing sight herself. He wanted her to find the kernels of gold as he had found them. So he said, "Because today we are going to give a wonderful harvest feast, Randa Derma!"
The old woman's wrinkled face puckered sadly when he said that "No, Dongso/'. she said with a sigh, "I'm sorry, but we can't do that. We can only make a simple meal. I spent the last of my money on offerings to the spirits of the village and of the sawah so that they might bless the har-
vest. . . ."
"And so they have!" he shouted. "Wait till you see how they have blessed the harvest!" He took her by the hand and led her to the sawah. The old woman stumbled in her haste to follow his quick steps as he hurried her to the place where he had made the amazing discovery.
Dongso tore off a stalk and gave it to her. "Look inside, Little Mother/' he urged, and he watched as she opened the ear and found the golden kernels. He laughed when she shrieked with joy. "What did I tell you? What did I tell you?"
But the old woman pulled herself together quickly. "Now Allah be praised/' she said, bowing her head. "My little rice field has brought forth more than a hundred great sawahs could bring forth. Allah be praised!"
She had promised Dongso a fifth of the harvest and she gave him a fifth of the harvest. Now he was rich. He could buy himself a sawah, he could buy buffaloes, as many as he needed, as many as he wanted. But Dongso bought neither a rice field nor buffaloes. He was faithful to the old woman who had befriended him, and he took care of the many spreading sawahs she bought with the same zeal that he had taken care of her tiny sawah. And he did to others who came to help him as she had done to him he gave them one fifth of the
crop of the lush acres.
It has been so from that day to this: One fifth of each sawah's harvest is divided among the helpers. From that day to this, too, there has never been want or poverty in that district. The people of Derma have lived in peace and plenty all these years.
That's what the village was named Derma, after the old woman who had befriended Dongso and who had been so poor that she could not even offer a harvest feast. But the Javanese do not believe the village's well-being came from the fruitfulness of the countryside. They believe the good fortune of the village and its people is due to the lovely temple Dongso built to the memory of his benefactor, after she died, on the very spot where once the little sawah had been.
The kingdom of Majapahit was at its peak in the 13th century. The wise king who ruled was King Hayam Wuruk. He was young, intelligent, and brave. He had a smart prime minister, his name was Gajah Mada. Besides that, he had smart and young aides and ministers. Under Hayam Wuruk Majapahit ruled over most of the present day Indonesia. Majapahit was very prosperous.
The palace of Majapahit was very big. It was very luxurious. Inside of the palace there is a special building called ‘Gedong Pusaka’. It was a house or more precisely a luxurious warehouse to store all the treasure of the kingdom. There were jewelries, gold crown, earrings, gold coins, gold Kris and many other luxurious things. That’s why the building was heavily guarded. There was a high wall surrounding it. Inside and outside the wall soldiers were on duty twenty four hours a day. All of them were fully armed. It was almost impossible for anyone at that time to get into the Gedong Pusaka.
One night the situation in the palace was very different. There was a thick, very thick fog surrounding the whole palace, even the capital. The temperature which usually warm was cool. This situation was very rare in Majapahit. The Javanese people (the people of Majapahit) interpreted this strange phenomenon as a signal from god. They were sure that a great event would take place.
King Hayam Wuruk immediately called Gajah Mada. After a shirt discussion they decided to call the army generals. The king told the generals to put the army in the highest alert. Soon they ordered all of their boys in highest alert. The number of soldier who guarded the palace was doubled. The king and the prime minister stay awoke until midnight. Every hour they received report that everything was OK. The night was very quiet. So at midnight the king and Gajah Mada were asleep.
But when it was almost dawn something happened. A group of soldier who guarded the front gate of Gedong Pusaka reported to the army general that the door of Gedong Pusaka was opened. When they checked inside they found that the collection of gold coins was missing. The army chief immediately reported the event to Prime Minister Gajah Mada.
Gajah Mada immediately ordered that the commander of the guard was arrested. Without waiting for the sun to arise he questioned the commander. Gajah Mada thought that the commander was the one responsible for the lost of the cold coins. But the commander refused. He was sure that someone else did the wrong doing. When the king woke up Gajah Mada reported to him. But the king was silent.
The following night the situation was very different. The sky was clear and the temperature was warm. Although tension had diminished Gajah Mada ordered the army to stay in highest alert. That time the king was ignorant. The night was very serene. Suddenly at midnight the soldiers who guarded at the front gate of Gedong Pusaka was shocked when they saw someone ran very fast from it. Soon they chased him. But he ran very fast and soon the soldiers lost him. However they could see that he ran toward the king’s compound.
Their commander soon reported to Gajah Mada who immediately came. He ordered the soldiers to siege the king’s compound. He also ordered more soldiers to surround it. Amazingly the king’s compound was covered with cloud. Nobody saw where it came from but suddenly thick cloud surrounded it. The fog was so thick that nobody could see the king’s compound. The cloud even grew larger that finally the whole palace was covered by cloud.
The next morning the people of Majapahit was shocked to see the strange phenomenon. The sky was clear and the sun was shining bright but the palace was covered by cloud. No one could see it. The king never came out of the palace.
Soon rumors spread that the thief was hiding inside the king’s compound in the palace. The army kept surrounding it. They cried to tell the thief to surrender. Suddenly someone threw stones to the soldiers. Some of them were hurt. Then Gajah Mada got in to see the king. When he came from inside the palace he told soldiers that the king was all right and that the thief was not there. After that rumor spread that the thief was ghost, not human being. Months later the mystery thief had not arrested and the palace was still cloudy. Years later the thief remained a mystery and he palace remained cloudy. Majapahit suffered from a great loss. It was a serious blow to the economy. Several years later the kingdom of Majapahit collapsed.
Today territory of Majapahit becomes Indonesia. People miss the glory of Majapahit. They are dreaming that the glorious Majapahit will return someday.
Written by: Budoyono
Sumber : http://www.englishindo.com
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