In the lush, river-crossed lands of Bengal, there lived a wealthy merchant named Chand Saudagar. His prosperity was known throughout the region; his ships sailed far, his warehouses overflowed with silk and spices, and his reputation reached even the courts of distant kingdoms. Yet for all his worldly success, Chand harbored a stubborn pride that would soon bring tragedy to his doorstep.
The merchant refused to worship Manasa, the powerful serpent-goddess who commanded respect throughout Bengal. While his neighbors built shrines and offered milk and flowers to appease her, Chand turned away in defiance. He worshipped other deities, but Manasa he would not acknowledge. This insult burned in the goddess’s heart like a flame that would not die.
Manasa watched and waited. She saw Chand’s greatest treasure not his gold or jewels, but his beloved son Lakhindar, a young man of such beauty and gentleness that even the birds seemed to sing more sweetly when he passed. When Lakhindar came of age, his father arranged his marriage to Behula, the daughter of another merchant family. She was renowned not only for her beauty but for her intelligence, courage, and devotion.
The wedding was set, and preparations began with great joy. But Chand had heard the prophecy from village astrologers: his son would die from a serpent’s bite on his wedding night. The old merchant’s heart filled with dread, but his pride would not let him bend. Instead of seeking Manasa’s blessing, he resolved to outsmart fate itself.
Chand summoned the finest builders and craftsmen in the land. “Build me a chamber,” he commanded, “made entirely of iron. No cracks, no holes, not even a space where a needle might pass through.” Day and night the workers labored, forging an impenetrable fortress a wedding chamber sealed against the world and against death itself.
The wedding day arrived with all its splendor. Behula, adorned in red silk and gold ornaments, her hands painted with intricate henna patterns, was led to the iron chamber. Lakhindar waited inside, handsome in his wedding finery. The heavy iron door closed behind them with a sound like thunder, and the couple was sealed within their metal sanctuary.
Outside, Chand stood guard, certain his clever plan had defeated destiny. But up in the celestial realms, Manasa’s eyes burned with cold fury. She called forth her fiercest serpent, a creature of supernatural power whose venom could kill with a single drop. “Go,” she commanded. “Show this proud merchant that no iron can shield him from divine will.”
The serpent descended like a shadow, coiling around the iron chamber, searching. Its tongue flickered across every surface, seeking the impossible. And then it found it. A single flaw, so tiny that no human eye could have detected it, a space where one iron plate met another. The serpent’s body thinned to a thread and slipped through.
Inside, Behula and Lakhindar lay sleeping, their wedding garlands still fresh with jasmine and roses. The serpent struck swiftly. Lakhindar gasped once and was still. By the time Behula woke, her husband of mere hours was already cold, the snake’s mark visible on his ankle.
Her screams brought Chand and the household running. When they opened the iron chamber, they found Behula clutching Lakhindar’s lifeless body, her wedding silks stained with tears. The village mourned, but according to custom, the body had to be cast into the river.
But Behula refused to accept this fate. “I will not let death take him,” she declared, her voice steady despite her grief. “I will bring him back.”
The villagers thought grief had driven her mad. But Behula was neither mad nor mistaken. She had heard tales of those who had journeyed to the realm of the gods and returned. She placed Lakhindar’s body on a wooden raft, climbed aboard beside him, and pushed off into the great river.
For months, Behula drifted on the endless waterways of Bengal. The sun scorched her by day, and cold mists chilled her at night. River demons rose from the depths, their eyes glowing in the darkness, tempting her to give up. Storms battered the raft, threatening to tear it apart. Village gods appeared in dreams and visions, offering her comfort if only she would abandon her impossible quest.
But Behula’s love was stronger than fear, deeper than despair. She sang to her dead husband, telling him of the life they would share when he returned. She protected his body from decay through prayers and the river’s sacred water. Her hands grew calloused from gripping the raft, her face weathered by wind and rain, but her resolve never wavered.
At last, after suffering beyond measure, Behula reached the celestial realm where the gods dwelt. She stood before Manasa herself, the serpent-goddess who had caused all this pain. But instead of cursing or condemning, Behula folded her hands and spoke with quiet dignity.
“Great goddess,” she said, “I do not ask you to undo justice or forget insults. I ask only this: let my husband’s death be enough. Let one family’s tragedy satisfy divine honor. I am a new bride who has known marriage for only hours. Grant me the chance to know love.”
The gods gathered to witness this mortal woman who had journeyed so far and suffered so much. Even Manasa, whose heart had been hardened by Chand’s insults, felt something stir within her. Here was devotion pure and true, love that conquered death itself.
“Your loyalty has moved even divine hearts,” Manasa declared. “I restore your husband to life. Return to your village and tell them that pride brings sorrow, but love and devotion can overcome even death.”
Lakhindar’s eyes opened. Color returned to his cheeks, and breath filled his lungs once more. Behula wept with joy, holding the husband she had refused to lose.
The couple returned to their village as the river currents carried them home. The people lined the banks, watching in wonder as the raft appeared bearing two living souls where a corpse had departed. Chand Saudagar fell at his son’s feet and then at Behula’s, understanding finally the price of his pride. From that day forward, he worshipped Manasa with genuine devotion.
Behula and Lakhindar lived long lives together, their love story told and retold in songs and paintings throughout Bengal. Their tale became a reminder that true love requires sacrifice, that devotion can move even the hardest hearts, and that some forces love, faith, determination are more powerful than fate itself.
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The Moral Lesson
The legend of Behula and Lakhindar teaches us that unwavering devotion and love possess power beyond mortal understanding. Behula’s refusal to accept fate, her months of suffering on the river, and her courage to confront divine powers demonstrate that genuine love requires sacrifice and persistence. The story also warns against pride and the refusal to respect spiritual forces, as Chand’s arrogance nearly cost him everything he held dear. Ultimately, it is Behula’s pure-hearted loyalty not weapons, wealth, or cunning that moves the gods to mercy, reminding us that compassion and devotion can transform even divine justice.
Knowledge Check
Q1: Who is Lakhindar in Bengali mythology and why was he destined to die?
A1: Lakhindar was the beloved son of the wealthy merchant Chand Saudagar. He was destined to die from a serpent bite on his wedding night because his father refused to worship Manasa, the serpent-goddess, insulting her divine authority. This prophecy was known through village astrologers before his wedding.
Q2: What role does the goddess Manasa play in Behula’s story?
A2: Manasa is the powerful serpent-goddess who sends a deadly snake to kill Lakhindar as punishment for his father’s refusal to worship her. She represents divine justice and the consequences of pride. However, she ultimately shows mercy when moved by Behula’s unwavering devotion, restoring Lakhindar to life and demonstrating that even divine anger can be softened by true love.
Q3: How did Behula bring her husband Lakhindar back to life?
A3: After Lakhindar died from the serpent bite, Behula placed his body on a raft and journeyed for months down the rivers of Bengal, facing storms, demons, and divine temptations. She persevered through all hardships until she reached the celestial realm and pleaded directly with Manasa. Her extraordinary devotion and sacrifice moved the goddess to restore Lakhindar’s life.
Q4: What is the significance of the iron wedding chamber in the legend?
A4: The iron wedding chamber represents human pride and the futile attempt to outsmart fate or divine will. Built by Chand Saudagar to protect his son from the prophecy, it was constructed without any cracks or holes. However, the serpent sent by Manasa found one tiny flaw and entered anyway, demonstrating that no mortal barrier can prevent divine justice.
Q5: What cultural values does the Behula and Lakhindar legend represent in Bengali tradition?
A5: This legend embodies core Bengali values including unwavering spousal devotion, the power of sacrifice in love, respect for divine forces, and the triumph of faith over adversity. It warns against pride and arrogance while celebrating feminine strength, determination, and loyalty. The story is central to Bengali cultural identity and illustrates the belief that pure-hearted devotion can move even the gods.
Q6: What does Behula’s river journey symbolize in the story?
A6: Behula’s months-long river journey symbolizes the trials of true devotion and the transformative power of love. The river represents the boundary between mortal and divine realms, between life and death. Her willingness to endure storms, demons, and suffering without abandoning her husband’s body demonstrates that genuine love requires sacrifice, persistence, and courage beyond ordinary human limits.
Source: Adapted from the traditional Bengali epic Manasamangal
Cultural Origin: Bengal region (present-day Bangladesh and West Bengal, India)
