Violet Vase

The phone rang. Rinkoo, the monkey, picked up the phone promptly.

“Rinko, I have lost my violet vase,” said the rabbit. Rinkoo could feel that the rabbit was badly upset.

“Relax, just search for it carefully. You may have forgotten where you had kept it.”

“No, I haven’t misplaced it. It has been stolen. You know, yesterday I hosted a dinner party. Many guests had attended. Some workers had also come to help the arrangements. Someone must have stolen it.”

“Is it very expensive?”

“No, it is not expensive. But I love that flower vase. I must have it back. Please find it for me.”

“Send me a list of all those who were present in your house yesterday. And a picture of the vase.”

The rabbit sent him the list.

Rinkoo looked at the list and mumbled, “They could be the culprits. But how do I catch them? Yes, I think I know. They are very greedy fellows. Yes, that’s it; greed is the  key.”

Next day an advertisement appeared in all local newspapers along with a picture of the violet vase.

‘I am a collector of rare historical items. I am looking for a Violet Vase from the Mughal era. I am willing to pay a generous price for this valuable item. Please contact me on 8686868686. The identity of the seller will be kept confidential. All payment will be made in cash.’

Two days later Rinkoo received a call from an unknown number.

“I know a person who has the item you want to buy. How much are you willing to pay?”

Rinkoo smiled. He knew that the thieves had taken the bait.

“If the vase is in a good condition, I would pay five lakhs. But if there is any scratch on it, it is of no use to me.”

“No, no. It is in a very good condition. But I think owner would not be willing to sell it for less than ten lakhs.”

“That’s more than a generous amount. Let me think it over. Call me after one hour.”

Exactly after one hour Rinkoo received a call from the thief. Rinkoo agreed to buy the vase.

“Where should we meet?” Rinkoo asked.

“I have to leave by a train at one. Why don’t you come over to the railways station? We can conclude our business and then I can board my train.”

Rinkoo agreed, “But how will I recognise you?”

The caller fell silent. Rinkoo suggested, “I will wear a violet hat. You also come wearing a violet hat.”

“That’s very clever of you. I agree,” said the caller.

At the railway station, Rinkoo came wearing a violet hat. But he was not alone. The rabbit and a police officer were with him. But the two were hiding behind a pillar.

Rinkoo looked around. There was no one there wearing a violet hat. But then Rinkoo saw the wolf entering the railway station, wearing a violet hat.  The jackal was behind the wolf. Rinkoo approached them.

“I am the collector of rare items. Can I see my item? I have an expert with me who will check and verify if it is a Mughal-era vase.”

The wolf opened a box and gave him the violet vase. The rabbit appeared from behind the pillar and took charge of the vase. He examined it and said, “Yes, this my vase.”

Suddenly, the police officer came forward and handcuffed the wolf.

“What does this mean? Why are you handcuffing me?” Wolf growled.

“This means that you are a thief and this is a stolen item,” said the police officer.

“No, I am not a thief. I didn’t steal it. Jackal stole it…”

“But you are his partner-in-crime,” said Rinkoo. At that moment the jackal tried to run away but the police officer caught him.

The rabbit was very happy getting back his violet vase.

“You should have known that it is not a very expensive vase,” Rinkoo said to the thieves. “Why would anyone pay you ten lakhs for such an ordinary vase? It was a trap and you fell for it,” said Rinkoo.

The wolf and the jackal knew that they had been outwitted by the monkey. But now, they could only rue their fate.

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A post for A to Z challenge

Today’s letter V

You may like to read my earlier post here Umbrella.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Umbrella

One day a baby elephant found a colourful umbrella.

He rushed to his grandma and showed her the umbrella.

He looked at his grandma and said,

“Why do people use an umbrella?”

Grandma felt a little confused.

‘Where did he get this funny thing?’ she mused.

Then she answered in a voice sweet and soft,

“Whenever it rains at night or in the day,

Men use umbrella to keep the rain away.

They are so scared of getting wet,

It makes them sneezy and sick, I bet.”

Baby elephant thought it was funny,

“How can anyone be scared of rain?

How can anyone get sick in rain?

I love the raindrops, all and one,

Getting wet in rain is such a fun.

I don’t think I need an umbrella.”

And he flung away the colourful umbrella.

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A post for A to Z challenge

Today’s letter U

You may like to read my earlier post here Tiger’s Tale

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tiger’s Tale

Tiger looked at the animals who had assembled to listen to the next episode of his tale.

There were two monkeys, one jackal, two deer, one elephant, one giraffe, one bear, a pair of wolfs, one buffalo, a few rabbits and some small animals.

“What was the incident about my tail that I narrated yesterday?” the tiger asked, unexpectedly. He just wanted to have some fun.

“You said that the hunter had caught hold your tail with his bare hands,” one monkey said.

“No. You had said that your tail got stuck in the iron trap,” the jackal said.

The tiger growled angrily.

“I always suspected that you do not come here willingly and do not listen to my tales attentively. Now, I know for sure that you are not listening, not at all,” said the tiger.

“No, no. We are all ears, all the time. Please don’t be angry with us. We hear very attentively,” said the elephant.

“You don’t even know the difference between hearing and listening.  What innocent fools you all are,” said the tiger.

“For me it is one and same thing. What I hear, I listen. What I listen, I hear,” said the buffalo and laughed loudly.

“Well, if that is so, then from tomorrow onwards, I will ask you questions about the tales I tell you. Anyone who gives a wrong answer will become my next meal,” said the tiger in a loud tone.

Everyone in the assembly was taken aback. They looked at each other. Even before the tiger could start his tale, almost every one vanished.

Only a few squirrels kept sitting. They were happily munching the nuts they had brought with them.

“Why did everyone run away? I was only trying to have some fun,” he asked the squirrels.

“Perhaps they don’t have much sense of humour,” said one squirrel.

“Perhaps!” and the tiger left for his hill.

And, thus ends the tiger’s tale.

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A post for A to Z challenge

Today’s letter T

You may like to read my earlier post here Scent of a Thief

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Scent of a Thief

“I can catch a thief even if he does not leave any clue at the crime scene,” bragged Rinkoo, the monkey. The bear and the giraffe and the jackal looked at him in surprise.

“What is a clue?” asked the giraffe innocently.

“Anything like, a fingerprint, that helps a detective to catch a criminal.” Said Rinkoo.

“If there is no clue then how can you catch him,” asked the bear.

“Every thief leaves his scent at the crime scene. I can smell the scent of a thief and catch him.”

The monkey looked at his friends proudly and they were all impressed.

Few days later, the monkey got a call early in the morning. Someone had broken into the house of the fox.

The monkey rushed to the fox’s house.

“What things have been stolen?” he asked.

“Well, the thief has taken away some jewellery and some cash and even my brand-new shoes.”

“When did you learn about the theft?”

“In the morning, when I came back from my morning walk, at about five. The main door was open. I knew something wrong had happened.”

“When did you leave for the walk?”

“I go for my walk early in the morning. I get up at three thirty and leave by four.”

“Someone must have known your schedule and he must have broken into your house between four and five. Don’t worry I will catch the thief.”

The monkey searched everything carefully. He noticed a strange smell in one room. It was the smell of dried fish.

“Well, that is a good clue,” thought Rinkoo.

Just then the jackal came. The fox had called him. They were neighbours.

“Did you get the scent of the thief?” the jackal asked eagerly.

“I think so,” Rinkoo answered.

“Let’s catch the thief,” the jackal said enthusiastically.

But the monkey did not encourage him, “You leave it to me.”

Rinkoo recalled that he had seen the wolf buying dried fish in the market. He went to the wolf’s house said, “Where have you hidden the stolen things?”

“What do mean? You think I am a thief?” the wolf growled angrily.

“You can’t fool me with your bravado. You are the thief who….”

The wolf quickly grabbed the monkey by his neck, “How dare you call me a thief?”

“Because you bought dried fish yesterday, you stink of fish and you left that stink in the fox’s house when you broke into his house and….”

The wolf interrupted him, “There is a stink in his house because I gave half of the dried fish to the fox.”

The jackal and the fox had followed Rinkoo to the wolf’s house.

“He is right, he gave me some dried fish yesterday,” said the fox.

Suddenly the jackal laughed loudly.

“We had planned to make a fool of you,” said the jackal to the monkey. “Nothing has been stolen; no thief had broken into his house. But still you got the scent of a thief. Isn’t that wonderful? What a great detective you are?”

The wolf and the jackal and the fox laughed at the monkey.

The monkey was too embarrassed to say anything; he just ran away.

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A post for A to Z challenge

Today’s letter S

You may like to read my earlier post here Rats

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rats

In the beginning there were only a few rats. No one took any notice of them. After a few days there were hundreds of rats and after a few weeks there were thousands of rats.

Every animal of the forest was unhappy. Rats had made their life miserable.

The lion convened a meeting. The monkey thought that he was wisest of them all. He said, “I know a man who lives in the nearby town. When he plays his flute, all the rats of the town follow him.”

“That happens in a story, I have read it,” said the bear.

“That story is about this man. If we invite him, he may help us,” the monkey said.

“Why would he help us?” asked the lion.

“We may have to pay the price he demands. I will meet him and find out his price.”

“Do it, immediately,” the lion said impatiently. Rats were everywhere in his cave.

The monkey came back from the town next day. “He just wants a selfie with you,” the monkey informed the lion.

“Just a selfie?” the lion thought for a moment. “He can take a selfie if he can rid this jungle of all these dirty rats.”

“But he wants a selfie riding….”

“He wants to ride a lion?” The lion glared at the monkey.

“He will get millions of views on his post if…...”

“Every fool nowadays is after cheap publicity. Go ahead and ask him to come immediately.”

The man came.

All animals were curiously watching him. He uncovered his flute pompously and started playing it.

As the sound of his flute floated in the forest, the rats came out of there holes and started gathering around him.

In the beginning there were a few rats. After a few minutes, there were hundreds of rats. After a few minutes more, there were thousands of rats around him. All rats were attentively looking at him and listening to the music.

The man started walking slowly towards the river.

But not one rat followed him.

He kept walking and playing the flute.  But the rats didn’t move, not even one step forward.

Exasperated the man shouted, “Why aren’t you all following me? Can’t you hear the sounds of music?”

Rats remained silent. Then one rat said, “That happens only in a fairy tale.”

The rat laughed loudly. All the rats started laughing.

The flute-player looked crestfallen. He saw the monkey growling at him.

“They will follow me; just wait and watch.”

But the rats kept laughing at him.

The lion was angry. He roared furiously and the flute-player ran for his life.

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A post for A to Z challenge

Today’s letter R

You may like to read my earlier post here Queen

 

 

 

 

 

Queen

“Queen is missing…Queen is missing,” the man could hardly speak. He was so scared. 

The king was shocked to learn that his dear Queen had gone missing.

“Listen to me very carefully, if you fail to find Queen by sunset then I will have each one of you beheaded.” The king was looking fearsome when he said these words.

All the king’s men ran helter-skelter. No one knew where to look for Queen. Some searched for her in the rooms, some men searched on the roofs and some men searched in the lawns and gardens.

The king was pacing his room like a caged tiger. No man had ever been beheaded in his kingdom. Even the worst criminals were not given harsh punishment. He was angry with himself for having given such a cruel order. But he had decided that he would punish everyone if they did not fined Queen before sunset.

Suddenly, someone thought of talking to Milki. Milki was very old and almost blind; but age had not rusted his brains.

Milki thought for a moment and asked, “What does she like to eat?”

“Chicken sausages. She would do anything for chicken sausages.”

“When was she last given chicken sausages?”

No one knew. 

Milki suggested that they should keep fresh chicken sausages at different places on each floor of the palace.

Just before sunset, a person on the top floor saw Queen appearing from nowhere. She silently walked to the dish containing sausages.  The person approached her silently like a tiger and very carefully picked her up.

Sun was about to set and everyone was terrified. But the man who was carrying Queen ran to the King’s Chamber.

The king jumped from his throne.

“My darling, my daring! Where did you go? Where were you hiding? Why? You don’t know how I missed you!”

He kissed and patted his beloved dog and smiled at the man who had found her. Everyone heaved a sigh of relief.

The king too was greatly relieved; he would not have to behead any of his men. 

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A post for A to Z challenge

Today’s letter Q

You may like to read my earlier post here Pumpkin Boy

 

Pumpkin Boy

Once upon a time, in a far-off village, lived a boy who was very poor. He had no one to look after him and no home to live in.

He helped people in their daily chores and they gave him food to eat and a place to sleep. Sometimes he slept in a house, sometimes on a farm and sometimes in the open, under a bench or a bush.

One day he helped a farmer to water his plants. But the farmer was a wicked person. He didn’t give the boy anything; not even a small piece of bread crumb. Instead, he picked a small pebble from under a tree and gave it to the boy, “Take this seed and plant it somewhere. One day you will become rich and famous.”

The boy was sad and disappointed. He had not eaten anything since morning. Tears fell from his beautiful, sad eyes.

“Why are you crying?” asked an old woman.

The boy looked at her. He had never seen her in the village.

He recounted his story.

“Let me see that pebble,” she said. The boy gave her the pebble.

“Are you hungry? Take this apple and eat it.” She gave him one apple. Then she closed her eyes, muttered some words and blew on the pebble. She smiled at the boy and said, “I think the farmer was right. Plant this pebble somewhere.”

“But where should I plant it? I am homeless,” the boy liked her smile.

 “You can stay in my hut and plant this pebble in the backyard.”

He followed her to her hut, which was in an isolated place outside the village. He planted the pebble in the damp soil behind the hut.

Next day he saw a small sapling where he had planted the pebble. He rushed in to tell the old woman. But she was not in the hut.

By afternoon the sapling had grown into a large creeper. By evening, one flower was blooming on the plant.

Next morning, the boy saw a large pumpkin on the plant. He wanted to tell everyone about this pumpkin. He plucked the fruit and took it to the wicked farmer.

The farmer thought the boy was making a fool of him. “Since I gave you that pebble for free; I will take this fruit as a gift from you.” And he snatched the pumpkin.

The boy felt hurt. He was unhappy that he had lost his pumpkin. But when he reached the old woman’s hut, he was astonished to see another large pumpkin on the plant.

This time he took the pumpkin to the carpenter who happily bought it and gave him a fair price.

Within a week he had sold more than fifty big and delicious pumpkins. Every time he plucked one fruit, another would grow on the plant within no time. And in the village, everyone was talking of delicious pumpkins that the boy was growing.

The wicked farmer got jealous of the boy. One day he insulted and abused him and called him a pumpkin boy.

But the boy did not feel insulted. In fact, he started calling himself the pumpkin boy.

And soon he was rich and famous. 

But he knew that he owed his fortune to the mysterious old woman who had turned the wicked farmer’s pebble into a magic pumpkin seed.

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A post for A to Z challenge

Today’s letter P

You may like to read my earlier post here Orange Peels