Listen, O dear listeners, listen with all your heart,
Let me now tell the tale of Bonobibi and her part.
There once lived a humble devotee of Allah, named Berahim,
His faithful companion was Phulbibi—may blessings be upon them.
In the household of Berahim and Phulbibi, there was no lack of joy,
But one sorrow gnawed at the hearts of the couple—it refused to die.
Years had passed in marital bliss, yet no child had been born,
And the yearning for a child left their hearts tattered and torn.
Day and night, they prayed to God above,
Asking,
“What sin have we committed, O Lord of love,
To be given such a punishment, so cruel and deep?
We cry at Your doorstep; we no longer sleep.”
Berahim raised both hands in pleading to the skies,
Asking for a child with tears in his eyes.
One day, Phulbibi came to him and softly said,
“Let us go to the Prophet’s tomb and bow our head.
We’ll place our final prayer for a child there.
And if even then He doesn’t hear our despair,
We will accept it as our fate, bitter though it may be,
And move on with our lives, childless though we be.”
Thus it was that Berahim reached the holy land of Medina,
He raised his hands in prayer, longing for a lovely child, serene and pure.
Compassion stirred in the Prophet’s soul,
A deep and powerful mercy took control.
From within his grave, the Prophet rose that very moment,
And spoke with grace, his voice calm and potent:
“It is not I,” he said with care and clarity,
“Only Allah can grant the child you seek with sincerity.”
Yet seeing the deep sorrow of his beloved servant,
The Prophet went to seek help from Lady Fatima, heaven-sent.
From her he learned a truth both bitter and clear—
That Fulbibi would never bear a child, not now, not near.
But Berahim’s house would not remain bare—
Two children would be born, if he found another to share.
With a heavy heart, the Prophet carried this fate,
And Berahim rushed to Fulbibi, burdened by what awaited.
Upon hearing this truth, Fulbibi’s heart sank like stone,
But she agreed with one condition, hard and alone—
That whatever she asked, he must fulfill without delay.
And so, with silent tears, she let her love walk away.
Though Berahim’s soul held no space for any but her,
He walked the painful road, chasing the hope of a future.
In Mecca lived a humble fakir named Jalil,
And his daughter, Gular, was of beauty and virtue real.
At only fourteen, pure and serene,
She became Berahim’s bride, gentle and keen.
And on the very first night of their union blessed,
The spirits stirred and fate took rest—
For it was then that destiny was spun so finely:
The birth of Bonobibi and Shah Jangali.
In the very first month, a mystery took bloom—
Like a lotus adrift in water’s gentle gloom.
A dark little mark appeared, silent and shy,
A secret sign no one knew why.
Then came the second, with a fountain red,
Two dolls in her womb, perfectly bred.
Beautiful faces, peaceful and bright—
Gifts of the heavens, glowing in light.
And so the months rolled by, one by one,
Till nine had passed and ten had begun.
With pain and love twisting in her chest,
Fulbibi called her husband to grant her one request.
“Listen, my love, to what I must say,
Don’t bring more sorrow my way.
Take Gular, your second bride,
And leave her deep in the forest to hide.”
It broke Berahem’s heart to leave his pregnant wife in the wilderness.
But what choice did he have? He had made a solemn vow to Fulbibi, with Allah as his witness. He had to keep his word.
So, with a heavy heart, he set off into the forest with Gulal, offering her gentle lies and half-truths.
As Gulal, weary and frail, could walk no further, she laid down on the forest floor and fell into a restless sleep.
Berahem turned back toward home, leaving her behind beneath the whispering canopy of the trees.
The sky wept, the wind sighed, and even the birds and trees mourned Gulal’s fate.
In the land of the eighteen tides, where people live by the grace of the Rai-Gazis,
Gulal Bibi gave birth to the long-awaited children of Berahem.
But there was no father to hold them,
No human soul to offer comfort—
Only a thick jungle and four heavenly fairies sent by the Almighty.
These divine beings cared for Gulal,
Bringing her fruits from paradise and easing her pain.
In the midst of sorrow and hardship,
Far from family and kin, Gulal Bibi gave birth to her twin children—
Bonobibi and Shah Jongoli.
One look at their innocent faces, and her heart melted.
Her grief gave way to tenderness.
But soon, fear crept in:
How could she, all alone, raise these divine children in the wild?
Overwhelmed, Gulal thought of leaving them behind.
Just then, a deer appeared—graceful and wise.
Seeing the newborns left to fate,
The deer scolded Gulal with a piercing gaze,
Its voice sharp with sorrow and disappointment:
“How could a mother abandon her blessings from heaven?”
“Alas, alas, cruel mother—
You are human, and yet look at me, a humble deer of the wild,”
cried the forest deer,
its voice trembling with grief and disbelief.
Gulal Bibi, though startled by the words,
soon made a harsh and heart-wrenching decision.
Bonobibi had been born just moments before Shah Jongoli—
and thus, by age, she was the elder.
So to protect the younger one,
Gulal chose to leave her daughter behind,
deep in the forest’s heart.
Newborn Bonobibi, though born to parents still living,
became an orphan in mere moments.
She could not yet speak,
but her soul was already filled with boundless devotion
to the Creator.
Raising her tiny gaze toward the sky,
she offered a silent, sacred prayer.
And that prayer—pure and powerful—
rose all the way to the gates of heaven.
Allah heard it.
And His mercy stirred.
He called out to every deer in the forest:
“Go, my creatures, go swiftly—
See how Bonobibi lies alone amidst the trees.
Nurture her, raise her,
Care for her with love and unity.”
Thus it was that Bonobibi, abandoned yet never alone,
was nurtured and raised by the deer of the forest—
as if she were one of their own fawns.
They fed her forest fruits,
kept her warm with their gentle bodies on cold nights,
and taught her the rhythm of the wilderness.
Meanwhile, far across the forest’s vastness,
Shah Jongoli grew up under the care of their mother, Gulal Bibi.
Though born of the same womb,
fate had torn the siblings apart at birth—
one raised by beasts, the other by a mother
with a heart burdened by sacrifice.
Seven long years passed in this way.
The forest whispered their names,
and time wrapped them both in the mysteries of the wild.
Then, one quiet dawn,
a voice unlike any other descended upon them—
a voice full of light, mercy, and divine command.
It was the voice of Allah,
the Most Compassionate, the All-Knowing.
To each child, the message was the same:
“You both must go…
to the watery heart of the Sundarbans.
There awaits your destiny.”
Meanwhile, Berahim’s heart was burdened with endless guilt—
he hadn’t known peace or restful sleep in years.
How could he? He had left his pregnant wife alone in a dense, unforgiving jungle.
His soul, worn and restless, could no longer bear the weight of that sin.
So, one day, he went to Fulbibi and confessed,
“I have sinned—a sin beyond forgiveness.
I must now go and search for Gulal Bibi and my child.”
Without waiting, he set out—
walking through endless paths, across forests and marshlands,
until at last, he found them.
Beneath the shade of a tree sat Gulal Bibi and little Shah Jongoli.
Years of hunger, exhaustion, and hardship had left them both frail.
Berahim begged to bring them home, to begin again.
But though Gulal’s body was weak,
her heart had hardened like stone.
She refused to return—
instead, she turned away,
running deeper and deeper into the wilderness.
And that’s when it happened.
In the very heart of the forest,
after so many years apart—
Bonobibi, the daughter left behind,
saw her mother, her father… and her twin brother.
She had never held any hope for her parents.
But that boy?
That boy had shared the same womb with her—
ten long months, ten sacred days.
How could she ever turn away from him?
“Come, Shah Jongoli,
Place your hand in mine,
We will be one,
Come, walk with me.”
Though their parents tried to stop them,
the children had received the divine command—
they had to journey to the land of the eighteen tides.
After much persuasion,
the brother and sister set out,
headed towards Makkah.
There, they sought the blessings of Bibi Fatima.
At the shrine of Bibi Fatima,
they sat and prayed.
And then, a miraculous message descended…
“Listen, listen, O Bonobibi,
Hear this with all your heart—
By My command, you must now depart.
In the land of eighteen tides,
There are many wetlands,
Eighteen thousand souls have gone astray—
Forgotten the path of God.
But you, when you arrive,
They will awaken their hearts,
Calling you ‘Mother,’
And you will remain as their child.
Bonobibi, go there now, in haste.”
Hearing the words of Bibi Fatima, Bonobibi understood the purpose of their lives. After visiting the tomb of the Prophet, the two children, with a sense of purpose, claimed their destiny as caliphs, taking the rosary in their hands, wearing black turbans, and draping themselves in cloaks. They walked past Madinah, heading towards the beautiful land of Sundarbans. Along the way, they reached the banks of the Ganges, and without dipping their feet into the waters, they continued to walk along the river’s edge, as God’s two messengers—Bonobibi and Shah Jongli—followed the divine path.
From the path of Madinah, with the blessings of Bibi Fatima and the Prophet, Bonobibi and Shah Jongli reached the wetlands of the Sundarbans, where the ruler, known as Dakshin Rai, reigned supreme. He was often called the king of tigers. It was here, in the Sundarbans, that the fate of the brother and sister was written. Walking along the banks of the Ganges, the two caliphs sent by the Prophet encountered a low-caste inhabitant of the region, Bhangar Saha. Bhangar explained to them about the eighteen tides land, its ruler, and the overall state of affairs. He spoke about Dakshin Rai, and the tales of the Chandra Raye.
Where to go for rulership, where not to –
All this, Bhangar Saha narrated to them.
Raising his hands in respect, Bhangar spoke,
“O noble lady, for what purpose have you come here?”
Bonobibi answered with a gentle smile,
“We are two siblings – twin children,
On the command of the Prophet, we have come here.
The Prophet has granted us caliphate,
And now, we spread the word of religion,
Here, in the land of eighteen tides.”
Upon hearing the call of the Azan, the residents of the jungle were shaken to their very core, as if the earth itself were about to tremble. The sound of the Azan, echoing through the forest, had a profound effect, even causing the ghosts, spirits, and sorceresses to be silent for a moment. The call was a declaration of faith, a challenge to the supernatural, and it reached the ears of the mighty ruler, Dakshin Ray.
In a fit of rage, Dakshin Ray demanded to know who these audacious strangers were, daring to spread such a powerful call in his dominion. He was enraged at the thought of anyone defying his authority and disturbing the peace of his land with such foreign rituals. “Who are these warriors, causing such a ruckus? Where have they come from? This must be dealt with immediately!” he raged, preparing to confront the intruders.
Then, Dakshin Ray sent his disciples and followers to drive Bonobibi and Shah Jongli out of the lower lands of Sundarbans, from his vast domain. However, none of them could manage to do so, as they returned in fear from the forest. In the meantime, one of the followers, a traditionalist, came and informed the ruler, “It is impossible to expel them, they are sitting in prayer, repeating Allah’s name—both the man and the woman are Muslims.”
This unexpected trouble irritated Dakshin Ray greatly. He thought to himself, “I’ll drive them out immediately with force, I’ll call for the battle now!” But in the art of warfare, Dakshin Ray’s mother, the Raymata Raymoni, was no less skilled. A new idea came to her. She didn’t want her son to be defeated by a woman. Rather, she decided she would enter the battlefield herself, whatever fate might await her. Calling Dakshin Ray, she said…
“Is this what you’re saying, my son?
A man will fight a mere woman?
Will you take up arms,
And carry a weapon on your shoulder?
I will go to battle myself,
I will do what I say.”
Words became actions. With this declaration, Raymoni set out to confront Bonobibi. In her grandeur and might, it seemed as though her feet never touched the ground. She was adorned in weapons, dressed in full battle gear. Along with her, thousands of spirits, witches, and ghosts from the cremation grounds flew in the air. All of them marched to fight for Dakshin Ray. Together, they chanted the same word: “Kill! Kill!”
Bonobibi had hoped to spread the message of peace. But when attacked, what could she do? Defending oneself is also part of the faith. Thus, Bonobibi prepared with her chariot. Before each attack, she invoked the names of Allah and Rasul, and with that, all of Raymoni’s weapons were neutralized. One after another, Raymoni hurled weapons of witchcraft and sorcery, but she couldn’t bring Bonobibi under control. No matter how many arrows were fired, they passed through Bonobibi’s body and flew far away, as if her body were made of water.
“Raymoni’s three arrows shattered into pieces.”
In such a state, Raymoni took a sharp curved knife to finally kill Bonobibi. She mounted Bonobibi’s chariot, riding upon it. But due to the blessings of Bibi Fatima and the power of the amulet hanging from her neck, Raymoni couldn’t harm even a single hair of Bonobibi. The knife turned into a flower, releasing fragrance into the air. Bonobibi regained her strength to fight, defeating Raymoni, but not taking her life.
Witnessing this miraculous sight and deeply saddened by her defeat, all weapons fell from Raymoni’s hands. Tears filled her eyes. With her hands folded in prayer, she humbly asked for forgiveness from Bonobibi, accepting her rule:
“You will be the ruler of the forest—King of the Eighteen Valleys,
We all have become your subjects today.”
Thus, Bonobibi gradually became known as the ruler of the lower lands of the Sundarbans. Her name spread from the mouths of the subjects. Raymoni, for a time, served as her advisor, offering counsel and assistance. One day, Bonobibi, accompanied by her brother, set out to explore the entire region. She sent her gratitude to Raymoni for all the help she had provided, and continued on her journey. While traveling, they arrived at a place called Bhurkunda. Enchanted by the forests, wilderness, and nature around her, Bonobibi was deeply moved. Looking at her brother Shah Jongli, she made a vow to stay together:
“Listen, brother, never fear anyone, Stay with me, always by my side.”