Mangoes, Mischief, and Tales of Friendship

by Chitra Soundar

  “What about the pots?”

  “You see, they are bronze pots. They were very old.”

  “I know! They are my family heirlooms. Irreplaceable. If I had to buy them now, it would cost me at least five hundred silvers.”

  On hearing this, Veera and Suku sobbed more.

  “Tell me what’s wrong,” Angar said.

  “Do you remember these pots gave birth to the little ones last month?” asked Veera.

  “I remember. What happened now?”

  “Well, the pots must have been very ill. Didn’t you take care of them properly? After we put them in the pantry, there was no noise. I went to check on them. But unfortunately they were all dead.”

  “Dead?”

  “Yes, the pots died yesterday at dawn!” cried Veera. “I’m so sorry.”

  “How can the pots die? They are made of bronze.” Angar threw up his hands in despair.

  “Well, if they can give birth to little bronze pots, can’t they die, too?” asked Suku.

  Angar had no answer to this. He hung his head in shame. The whole street laughed at his misery.

  From that day onward, Angar stopped being greedy. He charged fair interest and he never unjustly took away things — or children — from anyone again.

  It was a hot summer. No one in the kingdom studied during the hottest months. The sun scorched the earth. Lakes and streams dried up. The children were allowed to play outdoors only until noon and then again at dusk. They had to remain indoors during the afternoon.

  Prince Veera and Suku spent their time in the mangroves near the palace. The grove was shady and cool. The boys climbed trees, chased dragonflies, and feasted on juicy mangoes. A river ran right through the grove that was fed from the beautiful hills of Himtuk and it never dried up.

  After a long day of playing, the boys were tired. The sun was setting and it was the right time to get something to eat.

  “Let’s go to the palace and raid the kitchen,” said Veera.

  “That’s what we always do,” said Suku. “Why don’t we go to the marketplace today?”

  Prince Veera never turned down an opportunity to mingle with his people. He preferred to roam the streets rather than travel in style in a carriage. “Let’s do that,” he said.

  So the boys set off to the market with a silver coin each. A guard dressed in plain clothes followed them at a discreet distance.

  The market was bustling with people. The stalls were filled with fruits, vegetables, sweets, and cold drinks.

  One man sold tender coconut water and another sold palm fruits. A woman sold buttermilk from a huge mud pot.

  People came to the market on horses and donkeys and in carts.

  The sound of animals mingled with the noise of the vendors and the bells from the temple nearby.

  Prince Veera enjoyed his visits to the market. It was much more exciting than the palace.

  Suku and Veera wandered around, trying on hats, eating mangoes, and drinking coconut milk.

  As they approached the village square, people were whispering.

  Suku spotted a man under a banyan tree. The man was dressed in rags and he carried a dirty cotton bag.

  “What is it?” the prince asked. “Why are people whispering?”

  “Nothing, my friend. Let’s go to the other street,” Suku said, steering Veera away. Then, “Pschckkk!”

  Prince Veera turned and saw the look of dismay on his friend’s face. Veera burst out laughing. Suku had stepped in horse manure. He held up his leg and hopped around. “You never watch where you walk,” Veera said.

  “It’s not my fault!” cried Suku. “It is all because of the bad luck that man spreads.”

  “Why are you blaming a stranger, Suku?” asked Veera.

  Suku didn’t reply. He approached a nearby shop and asked the shopkeeper for a pot of water to clean his shoes. “Let’s go,” he said.

  Even after they returned to the palace, Prince Veera couldn’t help thinking about the incident at the market. “Are you going to tell me or not?” he asked. “Why did you blame the man from the market?”

  “I don’t want to share bad luck, Veera,” said Suku. “Why don’t you just let it go?”

  “I thought you knew me better,” said Veera.

  “I will tell you then,” said Suku. “The man’s name is Dhuri. He spreads bad luck throughout the kingdom.”

  “How could someone spread bad luck?” asked Veera. “What does he do?”

  “He does nothing. Just by seeing or talking to him, something bad will happen to you,” Suku explained, still examining his shoes for specks of horse manure.

  “I’m sure that is just superstition,” said Veera.

  “Not at all. I stepped in horse manure as soon as I saw him.”

  “That was because you never watch where you walk,” said Veera. “You were slurping on the juicy mangoes.”

  “I don’t agree,” said Suku. “It’s all bad luck. And that man is spreading it.”

  Prince Veera argued hard and long with Suku, but they got nowhere. “Let’s ask my father,” he suggested.

  “Don’t do that, Veera. The king will want to meet this man. What if something bad happens to the king?”

  “A king should meet all his subjects,” said the prince. “He cannot discriminate.”

  So they took their problem to the king. King Bheema listened carefully. Then he had a word with his ministers. Everyone agreed that Suku was right. This man Dhuri did spread bad luck.

  “Interesting,” said the king. “I wish to see him tomorrow.”

  The next morning, while the king was getting dressed, he looked out the window. The guards were bringing a poor, dirty man into the palace.

  “Are you ready for the court, my dear?” asked the queen.

  The king turned swiftly and knocked over a glass of water.

  “Careful!” said the queen. “Don’t be in such a hurry.”

  When the king sat down for breakfast, he was told that the royal chef was not feeling well. So the king was unable to eat his favorite meal, aloo paratha — bread with spicy potato filling.

  As the king approached the throne, he banged his leg and yelped in pain. Hurriedly he sat down, wishing that he had not peeped out the window that morning and looked at that man. He wished he had listened to his ministers, too. But he was the king. He had to meet everyone, even the man who spread bad luck.

  “Bring in Dhuri,” the king ordered.

  Prince Veera and Suku stood behind the ministers and watched the proceedings. Suku shut his eyes tight and refused to look at the man even when Prince Veera nudged him.

  “Dhuri, do you spread bad luck?” asked the king.

  “I think I am filled with bad luck, Your Majesty,” the man replied. “I have no work, no friends, and no family. But I don’t believe I bring ill to anyone else.”

  “But that’s not true,” said the king. “I glanced at you early this morning from my window. I knocked over a glass of water, my favorite breakfast was not available, and I hurt my toes.”

  “Well, that could be carelessness, coincidence, and haste, Your Majesty.”

  “Are you calling me careless and hasty?”

  “Not at all, Your Majesty. It happens to the best of us,” Dhuri said. “Some days are better than others.”

  Prince Veera smiled. This man was intelligent, courageous, and articulate. It was unfortunate that no one gave him work.

  “But I don’t agree,” said the king. “I agree with my ministers that you indeed spread bad luck. I condemn you to twenty-five years in prison so that no one will ever suffer again.”

  “That’s not fair, Your Majesty,” said Dhuri. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  Prince Veera was shocked. He pulled Suku by his hand and stepped forward. “Father —Your Majesty,” he began. “This is not fair.”

  “You are a child. Know your place,” said the king.

  “But you have always taught me to raise my voice against unfair things,�
� said Veera. “This is one of them.”

  “This man spreads bad luck,” the king said.

  “But I can present to you another man who spreads more bad luck than Dhuri.”

  “Is there another one of these in my kingdom? Who is it?”

  “You!” cried Prince Veera. “You have managed to spread more bad luck than Dhuri.”

  Everyone in the court gasped. They looked at the prince with horror. Suku stepped back and moved behind the curtains.

  “Veera, mind your words!” said the king.

  “Please listen to me, Father. You glanced at Dhuri this morning and you had these minor accidents. You blame him for all your bad luck. But Dhuri didn’t even look at you this morning. He was just coming over to see you. Yet you have sentenced him to twenty-five years in prison.”

  Dhuri looked up and smiled.

  “If you believed Dhuri caused you hardship, then it is just superstition,” said Veera. “Dhuri never intended to harm you. But what you did to Dhuri is deliberate. You want him to rot in prison. It seems to me that you spread more bad luck and ill will than he does, Father.”

  King Bheema closed his eyes. He nodded slowly. Then he stepped down from his throne and hugged his son.

  “You’re right, my son. I was swayed by my emotions. I committed an injustice. Thank you for speaking the truth and speaking it loudly.” The king walked back to his throne and looked at the court.

  “Here in this court, we almost fell into the traps of superstition. I apologize to Dhuri for my hasty judgment.”

  “I am thankful to the prince, Your Majesty,” said Dhuri. “And I am grateful to you for heeding to the voices in your court. May your rule flourish and prosper.”

  “Dhuri, you are a free man,” said the king. “The minister will help you find a job and a place to stay.”

  The court adjourned and Suku peeped through the curtain. “You were very brave, Veera.”

  “I just stood up for the right thing,” said Prince Veera. “That’s what princes do.”

  All’s Well with Mango Pickles

  Freezing Lakes and Missing Crows

  What’s Fair?

  Gray Elephants and Five Fools

  Long ago in a faraway land, King Bheema ruled a small kingdom surrounded by the magnificent hills of Himtuk. He was a kind and just ruler. He lived with his wife and his son, Prince Veera.

  Prince Veera studied many subjects: the arts, mathematics, science, economics, and languages, including Persian, Mandarin, and Latin.

  Prince Veera’s best friend, Suku, was not a royal. Suku had won the king’s scholarship to study with the prince. He matched Veera’s academic abilities and outdoor activities. Often the two boys competed in sports such as wrestling, archery, and horseback riding. When classes were over for the day, Prince Veera and Suku would wander through the markets and play in the mangroves.

  One day during the previous summer, King Bheema had been unwell. Prince Veera and Suku offered to help out with his duties, and the king had allowed them to set up a court in the palace courtyard. There the boys listened to people’s problems and solved petty disagreements.

  Now the hot summer months were here once again.

  “With no work to do on the farm and no classes,” said Suku, “I’m bored.”

  “Maybe we can ask Father to invite us to the dance performances in the palace,” suggested Prince Veera.

  “Please don’t,” said Suku. “I can’t sit in one place with a smile on my face for hours on end.”

  “That’s my future you’re describing!” said Veera. “What would you rather do instead?”

  “We could set up court,” Suku replied.

  Prince Veera’s eyes twinkled. “What a good idea,” he said with a big grin. “Let’s ask Father before he leaves for his hunting trip,” he added, pulling Suku through the corridors.

  When they entered the royal chambers, they found the king’s room in a flurry. Attendants were packing bags, clothes were strewn everywhere, and King Bheema was pacing the floor.

  “Is something wrong?” asked Suku.

  “Packing is always traumatic,” explained Veera.

  “I can’t find my hunting knife,” said King Bheema, exasperated.

  “It should be where you left it,” said the queen from behind a cupboard. She, too, was looking for something.

  “That’s not very helpful,” said the king. “Where did I leave it?”

  Veera chuckled. His parents had the same conversation every time one of them left town.

  “Did you two want something?” the king asked the boys.

  “While you’re away hunting,” said Prince Veera, “we wondered if we could run the court in the courtyard.”

  “This boy is after my throne, I tell you,” said King Bheema, smiling. “You may run the court as long as you don’t bite off more than you can chew.”

  “We never do,” said Prince Veera. “Thank you, Father. I wish you good fortune on your hunt.”

  “May the vandevata, the forest nymphs, help you along the way,” said Suku.

  As they left, a loud whoop came from the room. The king must have found his hunting knife, after all. The two boys rushed out to get ready for court the following day.

  The next morning, a long line of people waited outside the palace to meet the king. When they found out that he was away, many of them were disappointed.

  “Prince Veera is happy to listen to your problems,” announced the guard.

  Some people left, but many stayed to meet with the prince. They had heard wonderful things about his court.

  Prince Veera summoned the first case. Two neighbors, Gopu and Dhanu, had come with a unique problem. Gopu had an old well in his overgrown garden, which he never used. Dhanu wanted to buy the well. A price was agreed on, and a document was drawn up: I hereby sell just my well, situated behind my house, to Dhanu, my neighbor, for ten silver coins.

  The two men signed the document and Dhanu was happy to acquire the well in time for the summer.

  “So what’s the problem?” asked Suku. “You sold him the well, he bought the well, so all’s well.”

  Prince Veera smiled at Suku’s bad joke. But he couldn’t figure out the cause of their disagreement, either.

  “I sold only the well, Your Majesty,” said Gopu. “Not the water. So whenever Dhanu draws water from the well, he has to pay me half a silver.”

  Suku’s jaw dropped open. Whoever heard of selling a well and charging for the water? Veera looked at Suku and raised his eyebrows.

  “What do you say to that, Dhanu?” asked Prince Veera.

  “Why would I buy just the well, Your Majesty?” asked Dhanu. “I need water for my garden during the summer months. But he wouldn’t let me draw water from my own well unless I paid him half a silver.”

  “But you signed the document,” said Gopu, waving a scroll in front of Dhanu. “It clearly says, ‘just my well.’”

  Suku reached for the scroll. What Gopu said was true. This was a tricky problem! Veera wanted to talk it over with Suku. They went to the garden for a walk.

  “Why would someone buy a well and not the water?” asked Veera.

  “If the well was empty, he could store his pots and pans in it,” suggested Suku.

  “Or maybe he has relatives coming and they need room to stay,” said Veera.

  “Next time you come to stay,” said Suku, “I’ll ask them to prepare the well!”

  “I’m sure you would join me, too,” said Veera. “And maybe the well could be used as a hiding place.” He was thinking about the hiding place his grandfather had made many years ago to escape from his enemies.

  “The only trouble is,” said Suku, “this well is not empty.”

  That’s when Veera had an idea. “Come on, let’s go,” he said. “I know what to do.”

  “I’ve reached a decision,” Prince Veera said, taking his seat in the courtyard.

  Everyone was quiet. They wanted to know how the prince would solve this tricky
case.

  “According to the document, Dhanu bought only the well,” said Prince Veera, “and not the water. Indeed, he should pay half a silver every time he draws water.”

  Gopu was overjoyed. The prince is very astute, he thought.

  “But,” Prince Veera continued, “he may have bought the well so that he could use it to store his belongings. Or perhaps he wants to live in the well.”

  Everyone was confused.

  “As soon as the well was sold,” explained Prince Veera, “Gopu should have removed the water.”

  “But, Your Majesty —” said Gopu.

  “Shh!” warned Suku. Prince Veera wasn’t finished.

  “Gopu should take the water out of the well immediately or he should pay rent for storing the water in Dhanu’s well.”

  Dhanu beamed. The prince is indeed wise and just, he thought.

  Gopu hung his head in shame. The prince had outwitted him with his own trick. Gopu agreed not to charge Dhanu for the water lest he should be forced to pay for keeping the water in the well. The document was amended, and the prince warned Gopu not to try such a trick again.

  “That was a little complicated,” said Veera.

  “It’s water under the bridge now.” Suku giggled.

  “Seems like neighbors are not very nice to each other in our kingdom,” observed Veera.

  “That’s why I live far away from the palace,” said Suku. “You might not be a good neighbor.”

  Prince Veera chuckled. But he soon stopped, because the next man who came in was crying.

  “Please,” said Prince Veera. “Tell me your grievance.”

  “My name is Kasi, Your Majesty,” said the man. “And I live next door to a man named Pawan.”

  “Are you crying because your name is Kasi or because you live next door to Pawan?” asked Suku.