Upholding Commitments: Truth, Accountability, and Adaptability in Relationships
Folklore from West Sumatra
Once upon a time, in the verdant highlands of an ancient kingdom, lived a wise and noble ruler, Tuanku Raja Kecik. His granddaughter, Princess Julian, was known far and wide for her grace, kindness, and luminous beauty. As she approached the age of marriage, the king prepared a grand festival to find her a worthy suitor.
A few days before the festival, Princess Julian experienced a vivid dream. In it, she saw a young man named Sutan Rumandang, whose eyes carried the calm of the sea and whose voice was like a breeze whispering through bamboo leaves.
Princess Julian (to her handmaiden): “His name was Sutan Rumandang. I saw him so clearly... as if fate sent him to me.”
Handmaiden (gently): “Perhaps your dream is a sign, Putri. The heart knows before the mind does.”
Despite the dream, the grand festival came and went with no sign of the mysterious Sutan Rumandang. Days turned into months.
Then one morning, sails appeared on the horizon. A young voyager had arrived, disembarking from a slender merchant vessel. When brought before the king, Princess Julian gasped—he was the very man from her dream.
Sutan Rumandang (bowing): “I am humbled to stand in your court, Tuanku. My name is Sutan Rumandang, son of the sea.”
Princess Julian (in awe): “It is you…”
Moved by their instant connection, the royal family gave their blessing. Yet before departing again to complete his voyage, Sutan Rumandang made a solemn vow.
Sutan Rumandang (holding her hand): “I swear before the gods and waves—if I marry another, may my ship sink to the ocean’s depths.”
Princess Julian (softly): “And I, too, vow—if I break our promise and wed another, let me be cast into the trees… no longer woman, but gibbon.”
Their promises sealed with love, Sutan Rumandang departed, and Princess Julian waited faithfully. A year passed. Then two. Rumors of war and storm reached the kingdom, but no news of Sutan.
By the third year, another young man arrived. Charming and eloquent, he captured the hearts of many—including Princess Julian’s.
King Tuanku (concerned): “Child, are you certain? You once made a sacred vow…”
Princess Julian (gazing into the distance): “I waited… but perhaps he never meant to return. A promise cannot bloom if it withers too long.”
And so, they wed. But as the priest asked for her final vow, something stirred deep within her.
Priest: “Do you, Princess Julian, accept this bond—”
Princess Julian (crying out): “No! No… I feel it… the forest calls—”
In an instant, the transformation began. Princess Julian's body twisted in agony as if the very fabric of her existence was being unraveled. Her limbs elongated unnaturally, fingers curling into elongated, graceful claws, while her hands became long and slender, delicate yet unnervingly alien. Her face, once radiant with joy and innocence, contorted into a grotesque expression of sorrow. Her voice, which had once been the melody of royal speeches and soft laughter, morphed into an eerie, haunting shriek, echoing through the palace walls.
Without warning, she leapt into the air, her new form light and agile as she soared to the top of the grand wedding canopy. There, amid the festive decorations and joyous gatherings, she perched like a spirit of the wild, no longer a princess draped in royal splendor. The creature that remained was a white siamang, its sleek, snowy fur glistening under the sunlight, its eyes filled with grief and confusion. Her sorrow, raw and uncontainable, reverberated through the dense forest outside, its haunting call carried by the wind and deep into the hearts of those who had gathered to celebrate.
King Tuanku (falling to his knees): “Julian… oh, my granddaughter… what have we done?”
News spread swiftly, carried by the wind through every corner of the kingdom. It was as if the very trees whispered the tragic tale, their leaves trembling in the wake of the sorrow. A week after the mysterious transformation, the lifeless body of a siamang was discovered near the riverbank, its pure white fur stained by the mud of the earth. It lay motionless, a silent testament to the broken vows that had led to this tragic fate. Those who discovered the creature spoke of its eerie stillness, its wide, sorrowful eyes staring into the distance as though yearning for something lost forever.
At the same time, across the vast ocean, where the sun met the horizon in fiery brilliance, the crew of a once-thriving merchant vessel found themselves caught in an unnatural storm. The sea had turned dark and tumultuous, as if the heavens themselves had rebelled. Waves rose high, crashing mercilessly against the ship, and in the midst of this chaotic fury, the crew whispered in fear. They spoke of their captain, Sutan Rumandang, a man who had once sworn a solemn vow—now swept away by the storm’s wrath. The storm had appeared from nowhere, as if summoned by the winds of fate itself, dragging the captain beneath the waves. He, too, had betrayed his promise, his love for Princess Julian fading into the vast, unforgiving sea.
🌱 Moral Reflection:
This tale speaks of the sacred nature of vows and the delicate balance between love, patience, and accountability. While life’s uncertainties may test our hearts, it is not only about upholding promises, but also about communicating truths, understanding timing, and accepting that destiny, though powerful, still bows to choice.
✨ Honesty, Loyalty, and the Responsibility of Keeping Promises
This story emphasizes the importance of keeping promises and showing loyalty. Although Sutan Rumandang and Princess Julian made solemn vows, both ultimately failed to uphold them. It serves as a reminder that words carry power and real consequences. Fulfilling a promise reflects one’s character and integrity.
However, sometimes promises are made in moments of high emotion without considering how relationships may grow or how circumstances might change. Vows that are too rigid can become confining, leaving no room for mutual growth.
This tale invites us to understand that in relationships—especially commitments like marriage—flexibility is needed. Feelings can evolve, and situations can shift. Therefore, open communication and the ability to adapt promises as the relationship develops become essential.
Keeping promises is indeed noble, but allowing space for growth and change is also part of a healthy relationship.
No comments:
Post a Comment