The crow was standing right inside the door, waiting for him to come. She opened it the moment she heard his voice.

The courtyard had been cleaned until it glowed. She had been a little short on patience that afternoon.

He stood in the middle of the courtyard and said, “May I please have a glass of water?”

She answered in a voice sweeter than caramel candy, “Should I serve our beloved peacock just plain water?” She had set aside a bowl of clarified butter and raw sugar. This she added to a glass of warm milk and offered the tray to him with a humble curtsy.

The peacock drank down the milk and asked, “Should I flutter-flutter the left or should I flutter-flutter the right?”

At last the sister managed to control her joy enough to say in an excited voice: “Flutter-flutter both wings, my king!”

The peacock clucked twice or thrice: “Dhekoom! Dhekoom!” and stretched out his tail. But as soon as his wings were open wide, all types of creepy crawly creatures scurried out from his feathers and scattered over the courtyard floor—beetles, scorpions, centipedes, snakes. In no time they had surrounded the crow. She squawked, “Kawn! Kawn!” beseeching them to spare her, but they didn’t listen. They stung her and bit her until at last she died.

One by one, the peacock went to all the sisters. And each time the same thing happened. “Flutter-flutter both wings!” and so he gave them just what they had asked for; their hearts clogged with greed and stopped working long before death.

Then the peacock went back to the youngest sister. They lived for many years ever after in complete happiness and perfect peace.

While teaching at the Digantar School in Jaipur Rajasthan, Christi Ann Merrill is studying Indian history and culture at the University of Rajasthan.