Once upon a time, there was a man named Palee. He had three daughters: Tata, Gujrata, and Sonemanta. Every evening he’d call them home before sunset.

“Tata Palee…”

“Gujrata Palee…”

“Sonemanta Palee…”

The echo carried farther than whistles, across the valley until children began repeating them in play.

The daughters grew up.

Then, one by one, they disappeared.

Nobody remembers what happened to them.

Only the rhyme survived.

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Shabana Mukhtar