SUDHA MURTY GRANDMA BAGS OF STORIES

Episode 5

...... and everyone was excited. They were

discussing what new clothes they would get. Some were expecting their

husbands and fathers to return to the village with lovely gifts for them and

were looking forward to all the merrymaking that would happen over the next

few days.

Only Roopa was quiet. She did not have anyone to buy her new clothes or

shoes or presents. The villagers were kind to her, but they had barely enough

for their own needs so how could she expect them to get anything for her? Yet

today, hearing all the happy chatter around her, she could not keep quiet any

longer.

‘Even I will get a new sari this year!’she told Rama, her best friend.

Rama and all the other girls were astonished. Who was going to get Roopa

her new sari? ‘I heard from a distant uncle the other day. He was working for

many years in a faraway city and did not know that my parents had died. Now

that he is back, he has promised to visit me on Diwali. I am sure he will bring some marvellous gift for me!’ Roopa had started weaving a story, and now

she kept adding, telling all kinds of tales about her imaginary uncle. Her

friends listened open-mouthed. Then they went home, telling each other what

luck Roopa was finally no longer all alone in the world.

As soon as the bunch of women had gone away, who emerged from behind

a tree, but Bholu the trickster. He had been sitting under the tree, planning his

next theft, when he had fallen asleep. Then he had woken up and seen the

women at the river and had sat there still hoping to hear something about the

villagers. Sure enough, he had heard Roopa’s story, and was now ready with a

plan!

Bholu decided to dress up as an old man and appear at Roopa’s house a few

days before Diwali pretending to be her uncle! Then he would take her away

along with any valuables she may have got from her parents.

A week before Diwali, an old stranger appeared at Roopa’s door. He was

carrying new clothes, sweets and other gifts. Roopa was out doing some

errands so her neighbours came around to find out who he was. Bholu acted

perfectly like Roopa’s long-lost uncle, eagerly waiting to meet her. When

Roopa returned home, she found everyone sitting around an old man, who

said he was the uncle she had made up a story about!

Roopa was astonished. How had this happened? She had only been

pretending to have a relative just so her friends would not feel sorry for her,

and now here he was, a real person! Then her neighbour, who had looked

after her all these years, said, ‘Roopa, this is your Uncle Bholu; he learnt he

had a niece and came here looking for you. He wants to take you home with

him and look after you like his own daughter. You are so lucky, Roopa, and

we are so happy for you!’

Roopa looked around at everyone, beaming happily at her, and thought

what harm would there be if she went away with this uncle. She happily

packed whatever little things she owned and waving goodbye to her friends

and neighbours, went off with Bholu.

No sooner had they reached his house than he took off his disguise and

appeared before her as a young man. Roopa was horrified. Oh, what a fool

she had been to believe his story and come away with him! He was nothing

but a trickster.

In Bholu’s house there was no one else but his mother, who was old and

deaf and blind. After eating his lunch, Bholu decided to walk about for a

while, meeting his friends and telling them how he had kidnapped Roopa. She too ate her lunch, pretended she was very sleepy, yawned loudly and told his

mother, ‘Aunty, I am very tired after that long journey. I am going to bed for a

little while. If your son comes round tell him not to wake me up.’

Bholu’s mother nodded, though she had not heard much. Roopa quickly

went to the other room, borrowed some of Bholu’s clothes, wore them and ran

off. She took with her a few coins and a thick stick to defend herself if need

be. Before leaving, she arranged the pillows in such a way on the bed that in

the evening darkness it looked like someone was sleeping on the bed. Then

she covered the pillows with a dupatta and a sheet. If anyone only looked in

from the door it would seem as if a woman was sleeping on the bed.

Bholu returned home when it was well past evening. His mother told him

Roopa was in her room. He peeped in, saw someone sleeping and went away.

Many hours passed, Bholu kept checking whether Roopa was awake or not,

but each time he saw her sleeping without moving a muscle. Finally, he

realized something was wrong.

He went up to the bed now and pulled back the dupatta and the sheet.

Imagine his shock when he saw nothing but pillows on the bed! Roopa had

disappeared! He ran out immediately and asked everyone around if they had

seen a young, pretty girl walk out of his house. But no one had, because

Roopa had cleverly disguised herself as a man!

Meanwhile, Roopa too had walked many miles till she reached a different

town. There she looked around for work, and was taken in by an innkeeper to

look after the guests and to show them their rooms. Roopa, who now called

herself Rupesh, was happy doing this work. She could not return to her

village till she did something about Bholu, otherwise he would be sure to land

up there and bring her back with him, pretending to be her uncle.

After many days, Bholu turned up at the town. He walked from shop to inn

to market, asking if anyone had seen someone like Roopa. Of course no one

had. Roopa got to know and decided to teach him a lesson. When Bholu

reached her inn, he did not recognize her in men’s clothes. She agreed to give

him a room for the night. She told him, ‘Sir, I will give you a room in the

attic. It is nice and warm and cosy there, and you will be away from this harsh

winter cold.’

Bholu happily agreed and followed her to the room. A ladder was kept in

the middle of the room which went up to a little trapdoor. If you climbed

through the door, you entered the attic. Bholu quickly went up the ladder,

found his bed, wrapped his blanket around himself and went off to sleep.

When it was the middle of the night, Roopa sneaked into the room and

removed the ladder. Then she threw some marbles right under the trapdoor

and stamped loudly around the room. Bholu woke with a start. Who was that

walking around his room? He called down nervously, ‘W-who is there?’

Roopa called out in her man’s voice, ‘Nothing to worry sir. The soldiers are

looking for a thief they believe is hiding in this inn.’

Bholu was really scared. How did the soldiers know he was a thief and a

trickster? He was sure they were looking for him, and decided to make a run

for it. He opened the trapdoor and stepped down. But there was no ladder!

Bholu fell with a loud thud on to the floor! When he tried to get up, his feet

slipped on the many marbles strewn about the room and he went crashing and

sliding all over the place! Finally he hit his head against a wall and passed

out, unconscious.

Roopa had been watching this from the door with great delight. Her plan

was working! As soon as Bholu fainted, she heaved him up and packed him

up in a large box. She placed a nice silk cloth on top of him. Then she

dragged the box outside the inn and stood there.

Soon a bullock cart passed by with two travellers heading for the inn.

When they saw Roopa, or Rupesh, standing outside the inn, they asked, ‘Are

you the manager of this inn?’

Roopa nodded yes.

‘Why are you standing here then?’

Roopa replied in a worried voice, ‘I look after this inn. I was supposed to

go to my own village earlier today to attend a wedding. But there was so

much of work that I could not leave, and now here I am waiting for my cart

with this heavy box.’ Then she lowered her voice and whispered, ‘This box is

full of gifts I bought for the wedding, and if I don’t reach in time, everyone

will be really disappointed.’

The two travellers, who were up to no good themselves, looked at each

other. The same thought had come to both! They said, ‘Don’t worry, brother.

You can take a ride on our cart. Why don’t you put your box on the cart here?

But before we start, would you mind getting us a drink of water?’

Rupesh, or Roopa, smiled to herself, and dragged the box on to the cart.

Then she went inside to fetch the water. She took her time. As soon as her

back was turned, the two travellers opened the box to see what it contained.

They saw some lovely silk cloth on top. Now assured that they had got their

hands on some valuables, they quickly urged their bullocks forward and made a dash for it. Once they were well and truly out of sight, Roopa grinned to

herself. Her plan had worked! She ran to the nearest police station, and told

them all about the theft.

The two men in the bullock cart were just celebrating their theft of the box,

when they were horrified to see soldiers waiting for them down the road.

What could they do, they wondered. They were crossing a bridge over a river

at that time, and quickly tipped the box into the water. Then they heaved a

sigh of relief and went their way.

So that was the end of Bholu, and Roopa too returned to her village, where

she lived happily on her own. She was not going to trust any stranger any

more!

‘And that’s what brave Suma did too! When she was in trouble she did not

talk to any stranger, but went straight to the police for help. We must always

remain cool like this when in trouble,’signed off Vishnu Kaka. Suma was

delighted at this praise, and ate her bhajias with great happiness all the way

home!

Five Spoons of Salt

One morning, Ajji told Ajja, ‘Today is a Santhe (a village market day which

happens once in a week). Why don’t you take the children and show them the

Santhe and buy vegetables and other things for the house?’ Ajja, who

normally would have said yes, was hesitant. ‘How will I manage all the

children, that too at the Santhe? Remember what happened at the jatre—the

fair? At least there they had a temporary police assistance booth. There will

be nothing of the sort at the Santhe.’ Ajji agreed. This was a problem. Then

she had an idea. ‘Why don’t we ask Vishnu if he can spare Damu for a few

hours? Damu can accompany you and help see that the children are all right.’

Damu was Vishnu Kaka’s right-hand man. Everyone called him ‘Mr

Dependable’. He drove the car, cooked, looked after the fields, the accounts

and made sure Vishnu Kaka was well cared for. Without him, Vishnu Kaka

could not run the house or do anything in the fields. Vishnu Kaka’s son lived

with his family in Delhi and came only for holidays, so Damu was his real

companion.

So it was that all seven children and Damu and Ajja were now ready to

visit the Santhe. Damu had a plan. ‘The Santhe is only two kilometres away.

Why don’t we walk, and let your Ajja go in the auto?’ The children were

horrified. Walk for two kilometres in the heat! ‘It would be so boring too!’

added Raghu. But Damu had made up his mind. ‘Walk with me. I will tell you

such wonderful stories that you will forget everything, even the heat!’

The children agreed. Then Meenu had a condition. ‘It has to be a true story,

Damu Anna!’

Damu was unfazed. ‘I’ll tell you a story about my sister. Do you know how

I came to be “Mr Dependable”? I saw what happened to her once because she

was forgetful and decided never to let that happen to me.’

So he started his story.

‘Gita, where are you? I need you to run down to the store and get these

medicines for me!’ Gita’s grandfather called out for her. Where was Gita? She

was lying in bed, reading a book! For a long time she pretended not to have

heard what her grandfather was saying. The book was just too exciting, and it

was so hot outside, she really did not feel like stirring out of bed.

‘Gita!’ This time her mother’s voice also called out to her. With a sigh, the

girl got out of bed and went to see what needed to be done. Her grandfather

handed her some money and said, ‘I have a really bad headache since

morning. Will you get these medicines for me?’

Gita took the money and set off for the store. On the way she passed by a

sweet shop. Oh, what lovely gulab jamoons and laddoos and jalebis were

displayed! She had to have some. Forgetting all about her errand she entered

the shop and started tucking into sweets. Soon a friend came by and joined

her. The two girls ate and chatted for a really long time. Gita had forgotten all

about her poor grandfather with his headache! Afternoon turned to evening,

the medicine store shut for the day, when Gita remembered why she had

stepped out of her house. When she hurried back home, how upset her

grandfather was. ‘When will you grow up, Gita, and become responsible?’ he

sighed and asked.

Gita felt really bad, but did she mend her ways? No, she remained the same

forgetful person. When her mother told her to collect the clothes from the

washing line outside, she remembered to do so only the next morning! By

then, the clothes were soaked through all over again because of the overnight

rains. Another day, she had to take her sister’s lunchbox to the school. On the

way she saw a circus was in town. All morning Gita spent wandering around

the circus tents, watching the animals eating and training for their acts. It was

only when she felt hungry herself did she look down at the lunchbox in her

hand and realized her sister must have gone home by then, after spending a

day in school without her lunch.

Another time her father, while rushing to get ready for work, asked if she

could quickly iron his shirt. Gita picked up the shirt and placed it on the

ironing table next to the window. Just then the fruit vendor passed by with

big, fat, juicy mangoes in his basket! Of course Gita forgot all about the hot

iron sitting on the shirt and got engrossed in choosing the best mangoes to

buy. Only when smoke started billowing out and the shirt had burnt as crisp as

a toast did she look around and see what had happened. Her father was very

upset indeed that day.

Some days after this incident, Gita came home from school and announced

that the whole class was being taken for a picnic the next day. The teacher had

asked each student to bring one food item from home which would be shared

by all the children. Gita had chosen to bring sambar. She was very proud of

her mother’s tasty, tangy sambar and was eager to share it with her friends so

they could taste it too. Gita’s mother agreed to make a big pot of sambar for

her to take to the picnic the next day, and that night Gita went to bed feeling

very happy, dreaming about the exciting day ahead.

The next morning, her mother woke up early and started making the

sambar. She boiled the dal, added the vegetables, coconut and all the spices,

and set the pot boiling on the stove. Soon a delicious aroma wafted out from

the pot and tickled Gita’s nose as she lay sleeping in bed. Seeing her stir, her

mother told her, ‘Gita wake up now, dear. See the sambar is nearly done. I am

going to the temple, so after some time just add five teaspoons of salt to it.

Don’t forget now, and wake up and get ready quickly!’

So saying she bustled off. Gita’s grandmother, who was in the kitchen,

heard all this and muttered to herself, ‘When will my daughter-in-law learn

that Gita can never remember anything. I’m sure the girl will forget to add the salt. Then she will be teased by all her friends. Better be careful.’ So saying

she went and added the salt in the pot.

Gita’s grandfather was sitting on the veranda reading his newspaper. He

remembered only too well the day he had spent with a headache waiting for

Gita to return with the medicines which never came. ‘Gita and remember

something? That’ll be the day!’ he muttered, and went into the kitchen and

added the salt in the sambar himself.

Gita’s sister was combing her hair, ready to go off to school. She too

recalled the day she had spent feeling hungry in school waiting for Gita to

turn up with her lunchbox. Sure that Gita would forget about the salt and be

laughed at by her friends, she quickly went into the kitchen and added five

spoons of salt.

Gita’s brother was brushing his teeth and hearing his mother’s words to his

sister, guessed she would forget about the salt. He dropped in a few spoons of

salt into the pot and went off.

Gita’s father was carefully ironing his own shirt. Like the others he too

slipped into the kitchen and added salt to the pot of sambar.

By now Gita had woken up and wonder of wonders, remembered she

needed to add the salt! So she too went and added five teaspoons as her

mother had told her to do. By now her mother had returned and quickly

poured the sambar into a big container and sent her daughter off for her

picnic.

At the picnic spot the children had a wonderful time, roaming around and

playing. Soon they were too hungry to do anything else. Out came the plates

and spoons and all the containers filled to the brim with food. Plates were

piled up with rice, chutneys, vegetables, pooris and all kinds of goodies.

Everyone took large helpings of the sambar as Gita served it out. But no

sooner than they put the first spoonful in their mouths, ‘Blaagh! Horrible!

Water!’ everybody started shouting. Astonished, Gita wondered what was

wrong, then gingerly tasted the rice and sambar on her own plate. It was

disgusting! It was as if her mother had dredged out all the salt in the sea and

added it to the sambar! Then Gita remembered, her mother had not added the

salt, she had! So what had gone wrong?

That day everyone in Gita’s house waited eagerly for her to get back from

school and tell them about her wonderful outing. But what was this? She

came trudging back, her face sad and tear-stained. What had happened? Gita

burst out at them, ‘Did anyone else add salt in the sambar?’

‘I did!’said her grandmother.

‘I did too!’said Grandfather.

‘So did I!’said Father.

‘Me too!’said her brother.

‘And I!’said her sister.

They all looked at each other in dismay. No wonder Gita looked so sad.

Her friends would have made her feel miserable about the salty sambar!

‘Why did you all do it? Amma had told only me to do so!’ Gita wept.

‘Oh dear, you forget everything you are told to do, so we thought . . .

perhaps . . . you wouldn’t remember this time too,’ all of them said sadly.

Now her mother pulled her close, wiped away her tears and said, ‘See, all

this happened because no one could believe you could do anything without

being reminded many times about it. Promise you will be a careful,

responsible girl from now on, and we will all trust you to do your work.’

Gita sniffed and nodded her head. She did become much more careful with

her chores after that. And it took a lot of convincing, but her friends did come

to her house for lunch one day to taste her mother’s delicious cooking,

especially her tasty, tangy sambar, and everyone agreed it was the best sambar

they had ever eaten!

When the story was over, the children realized they were already at the

Santhe. There were heaps of vegetables, sweets, flowers all around. There

were goats, cows, buffaloes, fish, chicken and eggs for sale. The smell of

nuts, cardamom and other spices hung in the air. It was unlike the fair where

people had come to have a good time. Here a lot of business was taking place

and everyone was buying and selling busily. The fruits and vegetables were

very fresh. The flowers looked as if they had just been plucked. Everyone was

friendly.

The fruit vendor saw Ajja and said, ‘Namaste Masterji. Oh! You have come

with your grandchildren. It is nice to see everyone like this.’ Then he gave

each one a mango. When Ajja offered money, he wouldn’t take it. He said,

‘After all you were my masterji, my teacher. Can’t I give seven mangoes as

gifts to your grandchildren? They are from my garden, not that I purchased

them.’ The children were delighted at his warmth and kindness and returned

home very happy that day.

How the Seasons Got Their Share

It was an unusually hot afternoon, and there was a power cut. The children

were sitting in the house, wiping their foreheads and complaining. ‘How do

you stay without electricity, Ajja?’ asked Raghu. ‘In Mumbai, in our

apartment, if ever the electricity goes off, the generator comes on

automatically. We never even know that the power has gone.’ Ajja looked

around at the hot, sweaty faces, and said, ‘All right, I’ll show you a place

which is as cool as an AC room. And it stays that way without any electricity!

Come on everyone, grab a mat each and follow me.’

The children were intrigued. Ajja walked out into the garden, crossed it,

right till the old neem tree that stood in a corner. Ajja told them to spread their

mats under the tree and lie down. It was deliciously cool and comfortable

under the tree. Everyone lay down and looked up at the gently moving leaves

on the great branches over their heads. This was so much more fun than lying

in a closed room! Ajja too had pulled up a comfortable old easy chair and was

nodding off. After some time he said, ‘This is why I love summer! What

seasons do you children prefer?’

Immediately Anand said, ‘I too like summer, because there is no school,

and we can eat ice cream and mangoes. We can also go swimming.’

‘I don’t like summer, I like winter. You can wear colourful sweaters and eat

different kinds of fruits. It is nice and cosy to be at home. You can drink hot

soup and hot chocolate,’said Krishna.

‘I don’t like winter, I get ear pain. I prefer the rainy season. It is so nice

when it rains and all the trees look so fresh and happy,’said Meenu.

‘What about you, Raghu? Why are you silent?’ Ajja asked.

‘I like all the seasons, provided someone like you or Ajji is there with us.’

Ajja smiled. ‘Well, each season has its own beauty and use. We could not

do without even one.’

‘How is that?’ asked the children.

‘Okay, I will tell you a story about what happened once when the seasons

starting fighting with one another.’

God stepped back and looked happily at the Earth he had just created. He had

filled it with humans, animals, trees and seas and it looked a wonderful place

to be in. But something was missing. After thinking for a while, he called out

to six brothers: Day, Night, Summer, Winter, Monsoon and Wind. He

commanded the six brothers to go down to Earth and help the creatures there

live comfortably and prosper. ‘You must help the creatures on Earth grow

food and live comfortably. I have divided Time into two parts—twenty-four

hours and 365 days. You must share this among yourselves so that people on

Earth get all that they need.’ The six brothers nodded obediently, but no

sooner was God’s back turned than they all started quarrelling!

Everyone wanted a big share of the time available to spend on Earth. Day

and Night decided each would get twenty-four hours each. But the seasons

kept quarrelling. Summer was the eldest, so he said, ‘I will be on Earth for

365 days first!’

Rain said, ‘If I don’t show up all the water on Earth will disappear, so I will

come next.’

Winter said, ‘After the rains I help trees to flower, so I will come in the

third year.’

Poor Wind was the youngest and no one paid him any attention, so he got

the last year.

So life started on Earth. For twenty-four hours at a time there was Day,

then twenty-four hours of Night. Summer continued for one whole year.

While in the beginning the heat helped the crops to grow, soon it became too

hot for anyone to do anything. All the water dried up and there was great

discomfort. The people of Earth pleaded with Summer to stop and he had to

leave before his year was up.

Then it was the turn of Rain. When he started pouring down, how happy

everyone was to get some respite from the year’s summer. But soon the lakes,

ponds, rivers, oceans all filled to the brim and started overflowing. The crops

got spoilt in the rain and there was nothing for anyone to eat. When people

prayed for him to stop, he had to step aside and make way for Winter.

With relief people greeted Winter. Now there was neither the scorching sun

nor the pouring rain. But when day after day went by like this they started

falling sick from the constant cold, the plants started dying because of less

sunshine. At the people’s request Winter too had to stop.

Now it was the turn of Wind. Within a few days of his constant huffing and

puffing people were scared to step out anywhere. Trees were uprooted, the

roofs of houses went flying and there was chaos all around.

The brothers realized what they had done would displease God mightily. So

they decided to change their ways. Instead of each taking a year they decided

to share one year among each other. But again, Wind being the youngest got

left out and got no time for himself. He sat in a corner and sulked.

During summer time people sowed their crops and waited for the rains.

Rain came with loads of water but there was no wind to distribute it equally.

Some parts of Earth got buckets of rain and other parts none at all. Now

everyone realized that Wind was as important. They called out to him and he

finally agreed to do his work. But he did not get a separate time for himself.

He was allowed to blow all through the year. So in Summer he blew and

helped reduce the heat. During rains he blew the clouds from one place to

another and took rainwater everywhere. In Winter he still blew and made it

even colder!

Day and Night too learnt from the four brothers and decided to divide the

twenty-four hours equally. So one half was Day and the other was Night.

Now everyone on Earth was happy, and the six brothers learnt to share their

time.

By this time Ajji called from the house, ‘The electricity is back. You can

come inside now.’ But the children were happy to remain outside and enjoy

the breeze.

The Island of Statues

One day, early in the morning, the children heard a loud voice booming

outside. ‘Where are your grandchildren? I have come to take them to my

place.’ They went running out to see a very tall man with twinkling eyes and a

grey beard sipping coffee with their grandparents. He wore a crisp white dhoti

and shirt and a black cap. His smile was so charming that the children

instantly warmed to him. Ajji was shaking her head and saying, ‘Rehmat,

there’s no way Peerambhi can manage four children. Take them out for the

day, why do you want to have them over for the night?’ But the man called

Rehmat shook his head. ‘No no, I will take them for a night’s stay. My Usman

is a great cook and will look.

To be continued.......