There was the hut of a poor orphan widow near the palace of a Mr Zamindar.
The zamindar sahib wanted to increase the extent of his palace to that hut, asked the widow to remove her hut, but she had settled there for many years; Her beloved husband and only son also died in the same hut.
Patou also passed away except for a five-year-old girl. Now his granddaughter was the only base in this old age.
When he remembered his predecessor, he started crying bitterly. And ever since she heard the wishes of her Mr Neighbor, she had died.
She felt in that hut that she did not want to leave without dying. All efforts of Mr Sri were fruitless, then he started his zamindari movement.
He heated the bag of the lawyers who removed the hair from the court and took possession of the hut from the court and expelled the widow from there.
Helpless was an orphan only and started living somewhere in the neighbor hood.
One day, Mister was walking around that hut and telling people that she had reached the widow with a basket in her hand.
On seeing him, Shri asked his servants to remove him from here. But she earnestly said, “Maharajah, now this hut has become yours.
I have not come to pick her up. If you are sorry, the King has a request. ” On shaking the landlord’s head, she said,
“Ever since this hut has been removed, my granddaughter has given up eating and drinking.
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I explained a lot but she does not believe. She says that walk to her house. Will eat bread there.
I have not come to pick her up. If you are sorry, the King has a request. ” On shaking the landlord’s head, she said, “Ever since this hut has been removed, my granddaughter has given up eating and drinking.
I explained a lot but she does not believe. She says that walk to her house. Will eat bread there.
The widow went inside the hut. As soon as she went there, she remembered the old things and a stream of tears started flowing from his eyes. Having somehow managed her inner grief, she filled his basket with mud and took it out by hand.
Then folded her hands and started praying to Shriman, “Maharaj, please kindly touch this basket so that I can hold it on my head.”
The landlord was very angry at first. But when she started adding her hands repeatedly and falling on her feet, she felt some pity. By not telling any servant, he himself proceeded to lift the basket.
As soon as he started raising the basket with his hand, he saw that this work was beyond his power.
Then he put all his strength and wanted to lift the basket, but from the place where the basket was placed, it did not rise even a single hand.
He was ashamed and said, “No, this basket will not be taken from us.”
Hearing this, the widow said, “Don’t be angry, Maharaj, a basket of mud is not raised from you and thousands of baskets are buried in this hut. Why will you be able to bear the burden of birth? Consider this yourself. “
The Zamindar Sahib, proud of his wealth, had forgotten his duty, but the widow opened her eyes as soon as she heard the above promise. After repenting the deed, he apologized to the widow and returned her hut.