Читать книгу Indian Children's Favorite Stories - Rosemarie Somaiah - Страница 10

Munna and the Grain of Rice

“Munna, where are you?”

“Here, Ma!” Munna replied. “I am playing with the elephants.”

Munna, the elephant keeper’s daughter, lived behind the palace grounds. She had never been to school and couldn’t afford any toys. So instead, she played with what was around her—sand, sticks and stones—and made friends with birds and animals, and even insects.

She spent many happy hours with the elephants that her family cared for and loved deeply. Sometimes she rode on their backs, pretending that she was a Rani—a queen.

Munna liked to observe everything around her. She would examine the legs of insects and the wings of butterflies; peer closely at the leaves on the trees and the grains of rice on the stalks of paddy; press her ear against the broad sides of the elephants and listen to the rumblings in the stomachs of these gentle giants. She would even count the hairs on their tails!

But life in the small kingdom where Munna lived was not easy. The Raja—the king—would say, “I rule my kingdom fairly. I care for my people and I am wise and just. I am a good Raja!”

The farmers in the kingdom were not so sure. They planted rice, working with bent backs in the fields all day.

One day the Raja ordered, “From now on, you will bring all your rice to me, except what you need to feed yourselves. I will keep it safe for you in my granary.” The farmers had no choice. They did as they were told. And every year the Raja allowed them just enough rice to keep body and soul together.

But one year, the rain did not fall and there was a famine. The farmers had no food to give the Raja, or to feed themselves. They waited in vain for the Raja to give them some rice. “But I cannot give you the rice, or there will be none left for me,” said the Raja. “A king cannot go hungry, or no one will call him Raja!” The people did not dare say anything.

Munna, with her bright eyes and enquiring mind, watched as the hungry people starved and grew sad. She wondered what she could do.

One day, a servant loaded sacks of rice from the granary onto the back of an elephant. He led the elephant towards the royal kitchen. But there was a tiny hole in one of the sacks and some grains of rice fell through. Munna picked them up. She gathered them carefully in her skirt and took them back to the Raja.

The Raja decided to reward her for her honesty. He offered her gold, silver and jewels. But Munna bowed low and said humbly, “Your Majesty, I am small and I need very little. All I want is one grain of rice.”

The Raja was surprised. “Nonsense! You must have more. After all, I am the Raja.”

“Your Majesty, if it be your royal command,” said the girl, “I will accept more, but only for one month. Give me one grain of rice on the first day, and on every day following give me only twice what you have given me the day before.”

The Raja thought it was really too little. But she was, after all, a simple, foolish girl—an elephant keeper’s daughter!—and so he agreed.

So, on the first day, Munna accepted one grain of rice. On the second day she accepted two grains of rice, on the third day, four, on the fourth day, eight, and so on. She saved them all.

On the tenth day, Munna was given five hundred and twelve grains—about one handful of rice. Together with all that she had received so far, she now had one thousand and twenty-three grains. She gave it all to her mother, who put it aside carefully.

On the fourteenth day, which was halfway through the traditional Indian lunar month, Munna was presented with eight thousand, one hundred and ninety-two grains of rice.

By the next day, there was enough rice to fill four bowls—four bowls for three people! Her mother cooked just as much as the three of them, with their small stomachs, could eat. That night they shared a meal of rice. It was delicious!

On the twentieth day, Munna was given sixteen small bags of rice. Together with what had come earlier, she now had almost thirty-two small bags of rice. On the twenty-first day, she received more than a million grains of rice—one million, forty-eight thousand, five hundred and seventy-six grains, in fact. Enough to fill a large basket. It looked so big in their tiny little hut! The family moved around it carefully.

On the twenty-fifth day, she received sixteen baskets. Had they been placed one on top of the other, the pile would have been as high as an elephant. It was a good thing it did not rain then, for the soldiers arranged the baskets neatly beside the elephants in the yard in front of the hut. As they did, they wondered at the cleverness of the little girl.

On the last day of the month, the twenty-eighth day, Munna received one hundred and twenty-eight baskets of rice. The Raja was astounded, for that was the entire contents of his granary! He looked around. There was not a single grain of rice left for him.

But Munna was smart. She knew how difficult it would be for the people to live under an unhappy ruler.

“I do not need all this rice, Your Majesty,” said Munna. “I cannot eat it all, and I have no place to keep it. May I request that you, as a good and kind king, use it to feed the hungry people of your kingdom?”

The Raja promised to do so. As the people of the kingdom received enough rice to fill their bellies, they bowed to the Raja. But in their hearts, they thanked their own little Munna—the girl with a clever head and a truly generous heart.