“Neither,” said Kasi. “I am crying because Pawan stole all my precious belongings.” It seemed that neighborly feuds were not over for the day.
“We’ll be the judges of that,” said Suku. “Please state your case.”
“My mother passed away a year ago,” said Kasi. “I had to go to the holy city of Varanasi to perform her death ceremony.”
Varanasi was a long way away. It took months to get there, even on horseback.
“Was the ceremony completed to your satisfaction?” asked Suku.
“Yes, it was,” replied Kasi. “But before I left for Varanasi, I handed over a jar of pickles to my neighbor, Pawan, for safekeeping.”
“It is important to keep pickles safe,” said Prince Veera. He loved the tender mango pickles that Suku’s mother made for him. He hid the jars in the royal kitchens so that he could eat the pickles all year.
“Actually, the jar didn’t have any pickles in it,” said Kasi. “I filled it with all my precious belongings — my gold ring, gold chain, silver coins, and even some rubies that had belonged to my mother.”
“That’s very clever,” said Suku. “So what is the problem?”
“I didn’t tell my neighbor that it was filled with valuables. He thought it was filled with pickles.”
“Then what happened?” asked Veera. Thinking of pickles had made his mouth water.
“When I came back yesterday and asked for the jar,” said Kasi, “Pawan returned my jar filled with pickles. My gold and silver and rubies were gone.”
“Lemon or mango?” asked Veera.
Suku nudged Veera. Was that even important?
“It was filled with tender mango pickles,” said Kasi. He started to cry again.
Every story had two sides. Prince Veera and Suku wanted to hear what Pawan had to say. Pawan was summoned to the court, but when he came before the prince, he didn’t look worried.
“At your service, Your Majesty,” he said.
“Your neighbor Kasi has lodged a complaint,” said Suku. “He claims that you stole his gold and silver.”
“And rubies,” added Prince Veera.
“That’s totally untrue,” said Pawan. “I didn’t steal his gold, silver, or rubies.”
“Can you prove that?” asked Veera.
“Kasi gave me the jar for safekeeping before he left on his travels,” said Pawan. “He repeatedly said that the jar contained tender mango pickles made by his mom before she died. He wanted me to keep it safe until he returned.”
Veera and Suku turned to look at Kasi, who was still crying.
“When Kasi came back yesterday, I returned his jar of pickles,” Pawan continued. “You can ask him what was in the jar.”
“The jar was filled with tender mango pickles, Your Majesty,” said Kasi.
“He gave me pickles and he got back pickles,” said Pawan. “I never stole any gold or silver or rubies.”
Prince Veera was confused. Yet another case that looked straightforward but wasn’t. Was Kasi lying about the precious stones and silver and gold inside the jar, or had Pawan stolen everything and filled the jar with pickles?
It was almost lunchtime and Veera was hungry. All this talk of pickles was making him even hungrier.
“Let’s finish this later,” said Veera. “I need to think about it a little longer.”
While the prince and his friend went to the royal dining hall, all the people waiting to see Veera were served lunch in the courtyard.
As they walked Veera said, “I don’t know who is lying.”
“Maybe instead of eating here we should go to my house for lunch,” Suku suggested. “My mother knows everything about pickles.”
“That’s the best idea you’ve had all day!” said Prince Veera. He loved eating at Suku’s house. Suku’s mother was a wonderful cook. That day, she served them freshly made bread with spinach, potatoes, and lentils, and some fresh fish, too.
“How about some tender mango pickles to go with the fish?” she asked.
“Absolutely,” chimed the boys in unison.
Veera bit into the fried fish and took a bite out of the tender pickled mango. Suku took a mouthful of rice mixed with the lentils, potatoes, and fish.
“Eat slowly,” warned Suku’s mother.
“It’s so good, we can’t wait between mouthfuls,” said Veera.
“Tell me about your latest case,” said Suku’s mother. So they did.
Afterward, she said, “I don’t know anything about justice, dear Veera. But I know something about pickles.”
Suku’s mother presented them with two cups of tender mango pickles.
“This one, on the right,” she said, “was made this time last year.”
Suku and Veera touched the mango pieces. They were shrunken and wrinkly. Suku bit into a piece. It was very chewy and salty.
“This one, on the left,” she said, “the one you had for lunch today, was made last week. The mangoes were fresh from the trees and soaked two days after being picked.”
These pieces were bright green, without wrinkles. Veera bit into one. Crunch! The pickle was crunchy and the salt had not yet soaked into it.
Veera and Suku made their way back in silence. They were both busy thinking. The court was ready for them when they reached the palace. Before they entered, Suku said, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Maybe,” said Veera. “Are you thinking about crunchy pickles?”
“Maybe!”
As soon as Veera settled into his seat he said to Pawan, “I want to sample the pickles in the jar.”
The guard placed the jar in front of the boys. The mango pieces were sloshing in the salt and chilly water. Suku took out two pieces of mango with a ladle.
The boys picked up one tender mango each and turned it around like they were looking at diamonds.
“Green!”
“Not wrinkly at all!”
“Let’s try it,” said Veera, and he bit into the piece. Suku did the same.
Crunch!
The mangoes were still fresh, like the ones they had eaten for lunch. These couldn’t have been mangoes from last season. That meant Pawan had removed the contents of the jar and filled it with mangoes picked this season.
Pawan trembled as Veera glared at him. “You cheated your neighbor and stole his property,” said Veera.
“And you thought we didn’t know about pickles,” said Suku.
Prince Veera confiscated all the stolen gold, silver, and rubies and returned them to Kasi. Pawan was asked to work in the kitchens, making pickles for the rest of the season.
Kasi returned home, delighted that he had taken his case to the prince.
Prince Veera had one more thing to do: he talked to his father’s minister and recommended that the palace organize a place of safekeeping, so that when people went away on long trips, they didn’t have to worry about cheats and burglars. Something good for all the people would come out of something bad.
“This is an excellent idea!” said the minister. “You’re surely taking after your father.”
“Like mango, like pickle,” said Suku. “That’s what my mother always says.”
Prince Veera enjoyed running the court with Suku in the king’s absence, even if they had to run it in the courtyard. He and Suku always had a good time. But after a week of listening to people complaining about friends, family, and neighbors, the boys wanted a break.
“Let’s go to the riverbank,” said Suku. “We could jump into the water and catch fish.”
“And then we could go to the market and buy some palm fruits,” said Prince Veera.
But just as they were changing out of their formal court attire, they heard news that King Bheema was on his way back home with a special guest. A welcome party was preparing to receive the king at the edge of the forest, where he was camping that night.
“The river will still be there tomorrow,” said Veera. “Let’s go and meet Father.”
So the boys set off with the
king’s entourage. They took lots of food, fresh water and juice, and a band to play music.
The welcome party reached the king’s camp by dusk. The king was overjoyed that Veera and Suku had come, too. He was eager to hear about their week running their own court.
“Who is your guest, Father?” asked Veera.
“Do you want to meet him now?” asked the king. “I thought it could wait until morning.”
“I’m curious,” said Veera.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” said King Bheema, and he sent word to the other tent.
Within a few minutes, the king and the two boys were invited there.
Veera gulped when he saw who was inside.
“Uncle, you remember Veera,” said King Bheema.
“Welcome, Granduncle,” said Prince Veera. “Are you passing through?”
“I’ve not visited my dear nephew in a long while,” said Raja Apoorva, “and I have some family matters to discuss, too.”
Oh no, thought Suku. This was the infamous uncle who handed out harsh punishments. The one who had never liked King Bheema or Prince Veera much. The palace walls were filled with gossip about Raja Apoorva.
Suku tried to blend in with the tent cloth. When he was introduced, Raja Apoorva just raised his right eyebrow as if to let King Bheema know that Veera was not keeping good company.
That night, after dinner, everyone sat outside their tents and chatted under the full moon.
“So what have you been up to?” Raja Apoorva asked Veera. “Surely you haven’t been busy studying during the hot summer weeks?”
“We were running a court,” said Prince Veera.
“What?” Raja Apoorva was surprised. Princes went on vacations in the hills during the summer.
As King Bheema proudly talked about the court cases from the previous year and how Veera had been courageous and just, Raja Apoorva shook his head.
“The prince is too young to listen to cases and bring justice to your people,” he said.
“I have help,” said Prince Veera. “Suku is very clever and knows about a lot of things.”
Raja Apoorva grunted and ignored Suku completely.
The next morning, as the hunting party set off toward home, Raja Apoorva lagged behind, deep in thought. He had to show his nephew that the boys were not as clever as they thought and that a little knowledge was very dangerous.
When the king and his group reached the city, people stood on either side of the road to welcome him. The square got busier and busier as more people arrived. The king stopped to talk to a few people. Veera mingled, too.
“Caw-caw!” the crows crowed, and the people said, “The crows are signaling the arrival of our royal guests.” This was a legend they had.
“Isn’t that wonderful?” asked King Bheema. “Even the crows are happy that you’re here. Indeed, your visit was long overdue.”
“I’ve got a headache,” said Raja Apoorva. “Can you get someone to shoo the crows away, please?”
King Bheema sighed. He had been hoping to reach the palace without incident.
“They live here, too,” said King Bheema. “Don’t you remember the ancient stories? The crows have lived in our kingdom for centuries.”
“Are you the king of the people or the crows?” asked Raja Apoorva. “In my kingdom, we culled all the frogs that croaked at night and all the crows that dirtied my beautiful bronze statues throughout the city.”
“What’s a little white decoration?” said King Bheema, trying to bring some humor into the conversation.
But Raja Apoorva wasn’t listening.
“Maybe in honor of my visit,” said Raja Apoorva, “you should cull all the crows.”
Suku overheard this comment and bristled with anger. Whoever thought of culling birds and animals that lived in peace? They were as much a part of the city as the people. All night he had been angry about how Raja Apoorva had ignored him or smirked at him. Now the visiting king was insulting King Bheema, too.
King Bheema signaled the guards to guide the procession to the palace. It wasn’t the time or the place to have an argument, especially with Raja Apoorva.
That evening, as the kings strolled in the garden, Veera and Suku joined them. A gentle breeze brought respite from the still-hot sun.
“Caw-caw!”
The harsh screech of the crows irritated Raja Apoorva again. “I told you,” he said. “You’ve far too many crows in the capital and they disturb the royal peace. Even if you don’t want to cull all of them, you should cull at least some.”
“How many is far too many?” asked Prince Veera. Crows and sparrows were part of the gardens. Who could think of them as a disturbance? He couldn’t imagine a world without birds, butterflies, frogs, and fireflies.
“How many do you have in the capital?” asked Raja Apoorva. He was sure that the prince wouldn’t be able to answer the question.
Veera blinked. “I don’t know,” he said. “With all due respect, Your Majesty, neither do you.”
“Why don’t you count the crows in the capital?” said Raja Apoorva. “Then we can have an informed debate.”
Prince Veera knew this was a trap. The king was trying to make a fool out of him. Whoever heard of counting crows?
Sensing Veera’s hesitation, Raja Apoorva chuckled. “I knew you would accept defeat at the merest mention of hard work,” he said.
Suku tugged at Veera’s sleeve. “Accept the challenge,” he said. “We’ll figure it out.”
“Fine!” said Prince Veera. “Suku and I will count the crows by nightfall tomorrow.”
King Bheema sat with his head in his hands. Maybe a vacation for the boys would have been better, he thought.
Suku stayed over at the palace that night and the boys kept busy trying to figure out how to count the crows.
“What about counting the crows in the garden and then multiplying that by the number of gardens in the city?” asked Veera.
“Maybe we could go for a walk in the morning and count all the crows we see,” suggested Suku.
None of these ideas sounded right. They could never count all the crows in a month, let alone one day.
“Perhaps we could tie a royal sign to all the crows we count,” said Veera.
Suku started to giggle. “Imagine us running behind crows and getting pecked,” he said. “The guards would be chasing the crows, too. And then the crows would poop on us.”
“Even if we did that,” said Veera, “there would be a problem. What if a crow without a royal sign came into the royal garden?”
“We would tell Raja Apoorva that this is a crow coming from another city,” said Suku.
Veera’s eyes sparkled. Suku had saved the day again. He hugged Suku and danced around the room.
“Are you going to tell me what’s made you so happy?”
“I’ve got a plan to outwit Granduncle Apoorva and it is all because of your genius.”
“How?”
“You’ll find out soon enough,” said Veera. That night he slept dreaming of crows pooping on Raja Apoorva.
The next morning, Veera and Suku went into town. After a long day strolling in the market, eating mangoes, and drinking lassi, they returned home just in time for the meeting with the kings.
“You are both covered in dust,” said King Bheema.
“We’ve been busy counting crows,” replied Prince Veera.
“Really?” said Raja Apoorva. “So did you manage to count all of them?”
“We never fail,” said Prince Veera. “Suku will now read out the number.”
Even King Bheema was curious. How did the boys manage it?
Suku pulled out a parchment from his pocket.
“Drumroll, please,” said Prince Veera, smiling at Suku.
“We counted the crows in the gardens and markets, groves and swamps, and even the fields where the corn is being harvested,” said Suku. “There are 75,325 crows in our capital city.”
King Bheema wasn’t sure whether to belie
ve it or not. But Raja Apoorva was intrigued. How did they do it? Surely the number is wrong, he thought.
“What if I counted them and found more than 75,325 crows?”
“We knew you would ask that,” said Prince Veera. “Crows are a very friendly species. Relatives and friends from other cities and kingdoms visit our crows. But to keep the counting accurate, we didn’t count the visiting crows.”
“You should reward them for their efforts,” said King Bheema.
“Wait, wait,” said Raja Apoorva. “One more question. What if I counted and there were fewer crows than the number you read out?”
“Your Majesty,” said Suku. “The crows in our capital city have families far and wide in the kingdom. Some of them must have gone visiting.”
King Bheema burst out laughing. “I hereby decree that the number of crows in our city is not excessive and there is no need to cull,” he announced.
Raja Apoorva scowled, just for a second. He realized that the two boys had beaten him at his own challenge.
Raja Apoorva clapped his hands and his guard brought a bag of gifts for the boys. “Well deserved,” he said. “May you rule with wisdom always.”
A few weeks later, summer was nearing its end. The monsoon season was not far away. The winds had turned strong and cold. The visiting king was due to leave in a couple of days. As a farewell gesture, King Bheema invited his uncle to grace the royal court. Raja Apoorva readily agreed.
Prince Veera and Suku had been invited to attend, too. Raja Apoorva watched the proceedings with great interest.
That afternoon, a poor man was brought before the king.
“My name is Omkar, Your Highness,” said the man. “I never learned a trade or a skill and I didn’t go to school. Now I’m unable to find a job so that I can feed my family.”
King Bheema cleared his throat. But Raja Apoorva spoke first. “Dear nephew, Bheema,” he said. “Would you allow me to hear this case?”
Mangoes, Mischief, and Tales of Friendship Page 4