Book Excerpt: Mysteries, Mountains and Mythology- Retelling of Folktales from Uttarakhand by Supriya Bansal

An exclusive excerpt from Mysteries, Mountains and Mythology- Retelling of Folktales from Uttarakhand by Supriya Bansal (Rupa Publications, 2026)

Pure Putti Pure Pur

Saru balanced the bamboo basket, brimming with luscious red bayberries on her head and crossed the valley. Though summer had begun, the air was still cold. She felt fresh dewdrops on the grass under her feet.

The woody smell of deodar and oak trees wrapped her in its fold, but it still couldn’t mask the inviting aroma of the bayberry-laden trees along the path. Saru took a long breath, filling her chest with the delicious smell of the fruits that only grew in the summer.

She smiled. Her hands clutched the basket full of bayberries a bit tighter.

‘It was all worth it. The early morning hike to pick the kafaal (bayberries) was the best decision ever. I wish I could do it every day,’ she muttered. She had woken up earlier than anyone in the village and had hiked several miles uphill to the forest to gather the berries.

It was one of those rare occasions when her eyes sparkled, and a broad smile played on her lips.

‘I will sell the berries in the evening bazaar. Hopefully, the money will be enough to repair the roof,’ Saru reflected, crossing the rocky trail.

Her thoughts went to her little daughter, Haruli, and her face lost some of its previous sheen. Her husband’s untimely demise had pushed them into a gulf of sadness and uncertainty. Saru had to take up the responsibility of providing for herself and little Haruli. It was a struggle like no other

Throughout the year, Saru laboured day in and day out to earn minimum wages. The arrival of summer, however, brought a welcome respite. Her income was supplemented by the vibrant, purple-coloured ripened bayberries growing in the hilly forests.

Her smile returned as she dreamed about selling the juicy fruit in the evening bazaar and collecting coins. In her mind’s eyes, she could see Haruli plonked right next to the basket. Her little girl loved watching the berries being dressed in rock salt and chilli powder with wide, eager eyes. The corner of Saru’s lips dipped once again. It wasn’t easy to see sorrow crimp her daughter’s cherubic face whenever she passed the leafy bowls filled with berries to the customer.

‘How the dear child loves the fruit. If I didn’t need the money, I’d let her have all the fruit she ever wanted,’ she sighed, trekking downhill beside the tinkling stream.

Saru’s mind conjured up memories. She remembered how Haruli had savoured the leftover juicy berries last year. A huge grin had lit up her daughter’s face when she popped the ripened berries between her lips and closed her eyes to experience the blast of flavours. The recollections exploded a swirl of sweet, tangy juice on Saru’s own tongue. Her mouth watered at the thought of a bite.

Chiding herself, Saru swallowed back the temptation. The berries were meant for the market. Haruli could have the leftovers but nothing more. The berries meant coins that Saru so badly needed.

Saru shook her head, and both the taste and image dissolved.

‘No wonder the berries sell like gold in the market. The taste is heavenly,’ she mused.

The red, orange and purple colours danced across the early morning sky. The sunlight spun gold threads in the sleepy lakes, but Saru had no time to savour the beauty. Even the heavy basket couldn’t bog down the spring in her step. The berries and the evening bazaar consumed all her thoughts and movements.

She hastened across the sunny summer fields of geraniums, primulas, blue poppies and bluebells without giving them another glance.

Saru ignored the dew-drenched lavenders and junipers peeking at the morning sun or hummingbirds swishing on the yellow flowers. The shrill click-clack of white-naped woodpeckers pecking holes in the trees to build nests, the raspy chatter of yellow-billed blue magpies and the flute-like whistles of the wood thrushes was wasted on her.

Saru couldn’t think beyond the coins she would earn in the evening.

She even pushed the thoughts of the chores waiting at the house to the back of her head to soak in the anticipation of a big windfall.

****

The village was still shaking off its slumber when she reached it.

Soon, Saru would have to toil through another day-long spiral of milking the cows, cooking, cleaning, hauling water, gathering firewood and feeding livestock. Then there was always sewing, mending, washing and tending to the caving roof. There was no time to lose.

She hurried through the dark alleys lined by sleeping dogs and snoozing goats to her small hut. Her chores had to be finished early to reach the evening market in time.

The door creaked as she opened it.

Saru cast a quick glance at Haruli. Her daughter was still sleeping, her face tilted up, her cherry-red lips stretched to her cheekbones.

Excerpted with permission from the author and the publisher of Mysteries, Mountains and Mythology- Retelling of Folktales from Uttarakhand by Supriya Bansal (Rupa Publications, 2026).

Disclaimer: This page contains affiliate links.

About the Book

The beauteous Uttarakhand, fringed by the majestic Himalayas, is a treasure trove of folktales passed down through the generations. The state’s dense forests and quiet mountain villages come alive in the pages of Mysteries, Mountains and Mythology, which contain ten timeless tales to enthral young readers.

The book celebrates Uttarakhand’s rich culture and oral storytelling traditions by reimagining traditional folktales that carry the wisdom, magic and mystery of the ancient land.

Get whisked away to the region’s pristine forests, rivers and mountains. Along the way, meet fascinating demigods, mystical deities, and supernatural creatures drawn from the local myths and legends of Kumaon, Garhwal, Haridwar, and other parts of this enchanting land.

• Meet Jeetu, a young farmer, who gets swept away by anccheris (forest sprites).
• Laugh at the misadventures of the wealthy Lacchuwa’s dim-witted sons.
• Find out why the Pyoli flower is named after a young girl raised in the Himalayan foothills.
• Discover how a shoemaker produces gold bangles and later becomes a poet-saint.
• Get entertained by the tall tales spun by four travellers as they traverse through the Himalayas.

Readers will encounter many such captivating characters in this authentic collection that unravels the glorious tapestry of Uttarakhand’s ancient past. What’s more? Each story contains mouthwatering recipes and folk songs that capture the storied history of the state.

Written with emotional depth and wit, the meticulously researched retelling gives new life to some of the most cherished folktales from a beloved state, also known as India’s Devbhoomi.

About the Author

A doctor and award-winning author, Supriya Bansal, considers daydreaming her superpower.

Her work has been featured in over 30 anthologies. She received the prestigious Orange Flower Award for short fiction for two successive years. Her website ‘Supriya’s Banter’ won the Best Website/Blogger award from a renowned forum in 2023.

She has written two comic books, A Feast for Ganesha and Bhima’s Ladle, and was awarded the ALS Sagar Memorial Prize from the esteemed Asian Literary Society and the Authropod Award for Best Children’s Writer. Her novel, Never Forget the Crows, published in January 2026, is receiving praise and critical acclaim.

You can read more about her at her website-https://supriyasbanter.com/