The Woman, the Man and the Nat

The Woman, the Man and the Nat

In old Burmese stories, people said that great trees might be homes to nats, the spirits of the land. For that reason, before cutting down a large tree, people would ask permission from any spirit who might be living there. But one woodcutter forgot this custom. Early one morning, he went into the forest, chose a tall tree, and set to work. His axe rang out: tap, tap, tap. At last the tree leaned over and fell. According to the old tale, a nat had been living in it. The spirit felt deeply offended. “He did not even warn me,” the nat thought. “He did not ask permission or give me time to find another home. He must learn what it feels like when your place is suddenly taken away.” The nat did not plan to harm the woodcutter. Instead, he thought of a very strange lesson. He took on the woodcutter’s exact shape: the same face, the same clothes, the same walk. Then he picked up a bundle of sticks and hurried to the man’s house ahead of the real woodcutter. Twilight was gathering over the forest when the double reached the little home. Inside, a small oil lamp was burning. The woodcutter’s wife was cooking rice. Their young son sat nearby, and a baby slept in a hanging cradle. “You are home early today,” the woman said when she saw the person she believed to be her husband. The nat greeted her and sat on a mat. Soon the rice was ready. The family ate supper, drank water, and talked about the ordinary things that filled a home. The nat behaved so naturally that the woman suspected nothing. A little while passed. Then a familiar voice came from the darkness outside. “I’m coming! I’m sorry I am late!” The woman froze. Slowly, she turned toward the person sitting on the mat. “Did you hear that?” she asked. The nat pretended not to understand. A moment later, the real woodcutter appeared in the doorway. He set down his bundle of sticks, stepped inside, and nearly dropped his axe in surprise. On the mat sat himself. Or rather, someone who looked exactly like him. The woodcutter opened his eyes wide. “Who is that?” “I am the master of this house,” the nat answered calmly. “No, I am the master of this house!” The woman looked from one man to the other. Their faces were the same. Their voices were the same. Even their hands and clothes looked alike. “But… which of you is my husband?” she whispered. The real woodcutter began to explain that he was the one who had gone to the forest that morning. The nat replied as if he knew every detail of the day. The woman studied them both. “My husband has a dark birthmark on his back,” she said. “And a little scar on his knee.” They checked. Both men had the very same marks. Now everyone was silent. At last the woman said, “We cannot settle this by ourselves. We must go to Manu.” Manu was a famous judge. People said he did more than listen to words; he noticed what others missed. The nat did not like this idea very much. But the woman insisted, and the real woodcutter agreed at once. So the three of them set out together. The forest whispered around them in the night. Fireflies glowed among the trees, bats flew above the path, and a young moon silvered the tops of the palms. The next day they reached Manu’s court. The judge listened to the woman. Then he listened to one man and to the other. He asked again about the marks that would identify a husband. Everything matched. Manu thought for a long time. “I will not give an answer today,” he said. “Come back tomorrow.” That evening, the judge sat beside his window and watched the water darken beneath the setting sun. He turned over every word he had heard from the three visitors. At last, he smiled. The following day, when the woman and the two identical men returned, a great wooden wheel lay in the centre of the hall. At its hub was a small round hole, no larger than a hand could pass through. “I have thought of a test,” Manu announced. “I will recognize as this woman’s true husband the one who can pass through the hole in the wheel.” The woodcutter spread his hands. “That is impossible! A person cannot fit through such a hole.” “Wait,” said the judge. Then he turned to the other man. “Can you do it?” The nat thought he had already won. “Of course,” he said. In an instant, he became so small and light that he slipped through the hole in the wheel. Then he came back through just as easily. Silence fell over the hall. Manu nodded. “Now everything is clear. An ordinary person could not do that. You are a nat.” The spirit knew his trick had been uncovered and did not deny it. “Yes, I am a nat,” he said. “I lived in the tree this woodcutter cut down. Other people ask first, but he did not. I was angry, and I wanted him to know what it was like to lose one’s place suddenly.” Manu looked at the woodcutter. “The nat is right about this,” he said. “You acted carelessly. Even when you need wood, you must treat the forest, its customs, and the living world with respect.” The woodcutter lowered his head. “I was in a hurry and did not think. Now I understand.” Then the judge turned to the nat. “But you also caused this family a great deal of worry. Let the matter end in peace today.” Manu offered a simple solution. The family would prepare a new place of honour for the nat beside their home. In the old custom, this was marked with a dried coconut hung on the fortunate side of the house. “If you both agree,” said the judge, “one of you will remember to be respectful, and the other will stop being angry.” The woodcutter agreed. The nat nodded as well. At last, the woman breathed with relief. So the strange case ended without a quarrel or a punishment. The nat returned to his own world, the woodcutter returned to his family, and a small sign appeared beside their home to remind everyone that the forest was not simply a place from which to take timber. It held its own stories, customs, and mysteries. The old tale says this is how people came to leave a place of honour for a nat in their homes. It also reminds us that when a disagreement arises, the strongest answer is not always the loudest voice. Sometimes it is a patient mind that can tell the truth from even the cleverest imitation.

May this story leave a little light in your heart ✨