That was long ago. In a distant land, there once lived a king—kind-hearted and beloved by his people. But despite all his blessings, the king remained childless for many years. After countless prayers and years of devotion to Allah, his fate finally changed. One by one, his three queens gave birth to three radiant princes, bringing joy and light into the palace. Their names were Firoz Shah, Nowroz Shah, and Bahraj Shah. But fate can be cruel. Just as the boys began to grow, they were struck by a strange and mysterious illness. No one knew the name of the disease. Healers and herbalists came from far and wide, but no remedy could cure the princes. They all eventually gave up and left. At last, a peculiar healer arrived from the distant land of Yunan. Unlike the others, he offered no medicines and performed no treatments. Instead, he gave the king a single name—the name of the only cure: “Only the Gul-e-Deogandha can heal you,” he said. But alas, the healer did not possess this cure himself.
“Gul-e-Deogandha? What is that? I’ve never heard of it before. Bring it to me—so be it!”
“It is a wondrous flower,” replied the healer. “It holds magical powers that can cure any illness.”
The king immediately sent out many men across distant lands, all with the same mission—to find and bring back that miraculous healing flower. But fate was unkind. Not one succeeded in this daring quest. Some returned defeated, while others vanished without a trace.
Then, in a moment of desperation, King Alampana summoned his eldest son. Firoz was the firstborn prince—a master archer, strong and skilled in combat. He roamed all corners of the kingdom, known for both his might and sharp mind. Seeing his father’s worsening condition, he too had begun to lose heart. But looking into the king’s weary eyes, he stood tall and declared—
“I will bring back the Gul-e-Deogandha.”
Then began a strange and wondrous journey—an endless search for the magical flower. Day and night, Firoz Shah rode on, his horse galloping tirelessly toward the land of Deogandha. Dust swirled in the wind, rising in clouds behind him. All around, one name echoed like a whisper from the skies—Gul-e-Deogandha, Gul-e-Deogandha! A flower whose scent was said to descend from heaven itself, whose beauty rivaled the moon.
But finding this enchanted bloom was no easy task.
After days of searching and exhaustion, Firoz arrived at an unfamiliar town, one not marked on any map. There, he found shelter in the humble home of an old widow. The kind old woman welcomed him with care and affection, offering him rest and warm food. Yet Firoz couldn’t help but notice the fear that constantly clouded her eyes.
Seeing her so anxious, he gently asked,
“What troubles you, Granny? Tell me.”
With a trembling voice, the old woman revealed the secret that haunted the town: a fearsome tiger had cast its shadow over the land. No one dared to walk freely anymore. The beast had grown bold and deadly, and everyone in the kingdom, including the old woman, lived in constant terror.
Firoz was the eldest prince—since childhood, unmatched in strength and valor. With a chest always proud and a heart always brave, he never backed down from a challenge. So when he heard of the tiger, he didn’t flinch. Instead, he reassured the old widow and set out boldly to face the beast.
The same tiger that had terrorized the kingdom for years, the one no warrior had been able to defeat—Firoz subdued it with such ferocity and skill that he captured it alive and brought it straight to the royal court.
The king of that land was so impressed that he offered his daughter, Princess Maymuna, in marriage to Firoz Shah. The wedding was a grand celebration, full of joy and splendor. The king even gifted the newlyweds a magnificent palace of their own.
But it wasn’t long before Firoz’s heart grew restless. His father’s illness, the mission to find the Gul-e-Deogandha, came flooding back to his mind. He shared everything with the king, who, moved by Firoz’s sense of duty, gave him his blessing.
And so, with elephants, horses, and loyal companions, Firoz Shah set out once more—this time toward yet another kingdom, in pursuit of the elusive, magical flower.
But such was Firoz’s fate—once again, the princess of this new land fell in love with him at first sight. Yet, upon hearing of his quest for the Gul-e-Deogandha, she didn’t stop him. With a heavy heart, she let him go, whispering, “My soul will burn in longing until you return.”
Winding through strange lands, Firoz Shah finally arrived at the gates of Faryab, where a terrifying tale awaited him. There lived a man-eating princess—yes, a princess! Every day, she demanded one person to be served as her meal. If not, she threatened to devour the entire kingdom, one soul at a time.
The townsfolk were horrified to see Firoz near her palace. They warned him again and again, “Don’t go there! The moment she sees you, she’ll eat you alive!”
But Firoz was never one to shy away from danger. His courage and curiosity knew no bounds. Intrigued by the rumors, he slipped past the guards and entered the mysterious palace in secret.
There, he saw something strange—by day, the princess lay in peaceful sleep, serene as a dove. But by night, a monstrous serpent—an enormous python—slithered out from her nostrils. Firoz watched in horror as it twisted and hissed. It was the serpent, not the princess, that feasted on human flesh.
Without a second thought, Firoz drew his sword and, with a single mighty blow, struck down the monstrous python. His courage and cleverness freed the cursed princess from her dark fate. Wasting no time, he continued on his quest for the elusive Gul-e-Deogandha.
He wandered from kingdom to kingdom, crossing deserts and forests, valleys and mountains—but still, the enchanted flower remained out of reach. Slowly, exhaustion began to weigh on him. His spirit, once fierce and determined, now grew weary.
One day, as he wandered into the heart of a dense and silent forest, Firoz sat beneath a large tree to rest. There, beneath the canopy of emerald leaves, he met a woman unlike any he had ever seen. Her name was Humayun.
With eyes long and deep as midnight, her presence brought a calm that even royal palaces couldn’t offer. People whispered that she could understand the language of birds. Surrounded by nature’s beauty, Humayun’s charm surpassed even that of any princess Firoz had ever met.
Her gentle company melted away Firoz’s long, lonely fatigue. In the soft glow of moonlight, they would talk for hours, sharing stories, laughter, and silent thoughts that didn’t need words. Their souls connected like old friends from a forgotten lifetime.
But despite their growing bond, Firoz remained unaware of one truth—Humayun carried a secret. A secret so strange and mysterious, it could change everything.
And that secret—was the location of the Gul-e-Deogandha.
The very flower for which Firoz had left his home, wandered across unknown lands, and faced death time and again… was known to Humayun. She knew where it bloomed.
She also knew both sides of its magic. This enchanted flower held the power to heal any illness, but hidden within its petals was a dangerous curse. In the hands of the wicked, the flower could unleash chaos and ruin. That’s why Humayun kept silent.
She watched Firoz closely, quietly studying his heart and intentions. Was he someone who could carry such magic wisely? Or would the flower’s power corrupt him too, as it had others before?
That question haunted her. It tugged at her thoughts like a shadow in daylight.
And all the while, as days slipped into nights and nights into dreams, their bond deepened. The forest felt quieter when they were apart. In each other’s company, time seemed to pause—tender, uncertain, and filled with something more than words.
Gul-e-Deogandha, the mystical bloom, only flowers once every few years. And when it does, it’s guarded fiercely—by djinns, spirits, and ancient, unseen forces. Legends say that none have ever returned after trying to pluck it. And those few who did… came back changed. Not quite themselves. Not quite human. Such is the dangerous magic of the flower.
Firoz Shah, hearing all this, could only sit quietly and weep. He had come so far… risked everything… but the thought of the flower’s power and the fate of those before him weighed heavily on his heart.
Days passed in quiet reflection.
And in that time, Humayun began to believe in him. Slowly, she saw through his bravery and into his kindness, his pain, his purpose. And so, one silver-lit night, under the soft gaze of the moon, she took his hand in hers.
And whispered the secret.
She told him where the Gul-e-Deogandha bloomed.
But she had one condition—just one.
He must promise, from the depths of his soul, that he would take only what was truly, truly needed. Not a petal more. Not out of greed or pride or ambition. Because if he ever broke that vow, no power could stop the destruction that would follow. The curse would be unleashed.
Firoz listened. And with a bowed head and a steady voice, he promised.
The next morning, together they set out on their journey. After crossing many steep hills and valleys, rivers and streams, they arrived before a towering stone wall. Climbing up the wall was a silver-leaved tree, its branches reaching high into the sky. And far above, resting atop the peak, sat the royal Gul-e-Deogandha.
Firoz had never seen anything so beautiful in all his life. The flower glowed with a soft golden light, spreading a beauty as radiant as the first rays of dawn. Its enchanting fragrance surpassed that of the finest perfumes, captivating all who drew near.
But just as Firoz reached out to touch this wondrous bloom, the ground suddenly trembled beneath his feet. A shiver ran down his spine, yet he stood firm like a true warrior.
From within the flower, a terrifying roar echoed—an ominous shadow began to spread around them. From that darkness emerged a monstrous black serpent, long and fierce, its presence chilling the air with dread.
That was the guardian of the Gul-e-Deogandha—a fierce protector who hissed threateningly whenever anyone approached the flower. Firoz immediately understood why so many who came near the bloom disappeared without a trace.
Without hesitation, he drew his sword from his waist and struck at the serpent’s deadly fang. Then, with a swift and precise move, he thrust the sword straight into its glaring eye. After a fierce battle, Firoz defeated the guardian serpent completely.
Exhausted but resolute, he carefully plucked a single petal from the flower—no more than he needed, as he had promised Humayun.
Impressed by Firoz’s honesty and restraint, Humayun’s doubt vanished. She then revealed another secret she had been hiding—a mystery she had been running from all her life.
“I am a princess,” she confessed softly, “but my own people called me a witch and betrayed me. I left them all behind and built my home deep in this forest.”
“You are my only friend, for I have no one else,”
Humayun confessed softly. Hearing this, a fierce anger surged within Firoz. He vowed to restore Humayun’s lost honor and dignity. But first, he had to heal his father.
With the shimmering petal of the Gul-e-Deogandha in one hand and Humayun by his side, he began the journey back home.
As soon as they entered the kingdom, the crowds surged forward, chanting, “Long live the prince! Long live the prince!” The magical touch of the flower restored the king’s lost vitality. His eyes, once dimmed, opened with clarity. The pale weariness faded from his face. He was healed.
The entire court fell silent in awe—truly, the magic had saved the king!
Joyous music filled the palace as preparations began for the wedding of Humayun and Firoz. The halls blossomed with flowers, dazzling lights sparkled everywhere, and the entire court rejoiced.
Yet amid the celebration, whispers spread about one curious condition Humayun had set…
“Before the wedding, I want to visit the Gul-e-Deogandha alone just once.”
Ignoring everyone’s protests, Firoz Shah escorted his bride-to-be to the magical flower. Then he waited outside the forest patiently.
After some time, Humayun emerged. Standing before the entire kingdom, she announced,
“The guardian of the Gul-e-Deogandha is no more, so I have closed its door.
No greedy hands shall ever touch this flower again.
Only the hearts of honest and true people may ever approach it.
Until then, its whereabouts will remain hidden.”
With a sweet, flower-like smile, she took Firoz’s hand and joined the wedding celebrations.
Yet, even now, some say that in the golden glow of midnight, the Gul-e-Deogandha still appears—and with it, the spirit of Humayun.