The monkey and the wedge

Told in English, Telugu.

Long, long ago, the wise old book called the Panchatantra was full of little stories, told by clever animals to one another. One day, a sensible jackal told his brother this story, to remind him not to poke his nose into other people's business. Now I will tell it to you. Are you comfortable? Then let us begin.

Near a busy town, there was a cool, green mango grove. A rich merchant had decided to build a beautiful temple there. Every morning, carpenters and stone workers came to the grove. They sawed and hammered and carved from sunrise until noon. Tak, tak, tak went the hammers. Shhrr, shhrr went the saws.

One of the carpenters was a kind man named Ramayya. That morning, he was splitting a huge log down the middle to make long wooden beams. It was hard work. He had split the log only halfway when the sun climbed high in the sky, and his tummy began to rumble.

"Time for lunch!" called the head worker. "Let us go to the town and eat."

Ramayya did not want the crack in the log to close up while he was away. So he took a thick, pointed piece of wood called a wedge, and he hammered it into the crack. Now the two halves of the log stayed wide open, like a crocodile's mouth. Ramayya wiped his face, picked up his towel, and walked off with the others.

The grove became very quiet. And into that quiet came a troop of monkeys, swinging from branch to branch.

"Ooh, look!" chattered the young monkeys. "Nobody is here! We can play!"

They leaped onto the half-built roof. They raced along the piles of stones. They swung from the scaffolding and slid down the poles. What fun they had!

The oldest monkey in the troop, Grandpa Bheemudu, sat on a branch and watched. "Play all you like, children," he called, "but do not touch the workers' tools. Those things are not ours, and we do not know how they work."

"Yes, Grandpa!" they all called back.

But one little monkey was not really listening. His name was Chilipi, and he was the most curious monkey in the whole grove. Chilipi wanted to know about everything. Why is the sky blue? Why do ants walk in a line? And now he spotted something very interesting indeed.

It was Ramayya's log, with the wedge sticking out of the top.

Chilipi hopped onto the log and sat right on top of it, with his long tail dangling down into the open crack. He stared at the wedge.

"What a strange thing," he said to himself. "Who stuck a piece of wood in this funny place? It does not belong there at all. I think I should pull it out."

Now, children, do you think that is a good idea? Hmm. Let us see.

Chilipi grabbed the wedge with both hands. He pulled. It did not move. He pulled harder. It wobbled a tiny bit.

"Ha! It is coming!" he said. He wriggled it this way and that way, this way and that way, huffing and puffing.

Then, all at once, pop! Out came the wedge.

And snap! The two halves of the big log sprang together, closing the crack tight.

And guess what was still dangling inside that crack? Yes. Chilipi's long tail.

"Aaaah! Ow! Ow! Ow!" cried Chilipi. "My tail! My tail is stuck!"

All the monkeys came running. They gathered around the log, chattering with worry.

"Pull, Chilipi, pull!" said one.

Chilipi pulled, but his tail would not come out. The log held it tightly, like a giant pinching his tail between two fingers.

"We will push the log apart!" said two big monkeys. They pushed and pushed with all their strength, but the heavy log did not open even a little bit.

Chilipi's eyes filled with tears. "I am sorry," he sobbed. "Grandpa told us not to touch the tools. I did not listen."

Grandpa Bheemudu climbed down and sat beside him. He stroked Chilipi's head gently. "Hush, little one. Crying will not help your tail, but staying calm will. We must wait."

"Wait for what?" sniffed Chilipi.

"For the one who knows how this log works," said Grandpa.

The other monkeys were frightened. "The workers will come back soon! We must run!" And off they scampered into the trees. But Grandpa Bheemudu stayed right beside Chilipi, holding his hand.

After a while, there were footsteps on the path. Ramayya was coming back, humming a song, his tummy full of rice and pickle.

Then he stopped. He saw his log. He saw the wedge lying on the ground. And he saw a little monkey with tears on his face and his tail caught tight in the wood.

"Ayyo!" said Ramayya. "So that is what happened. You naughty little fellow, you pulled out my wedge, didn't you?"

Chilipi shivered and nodded.

Ramayya shook his head, but his eyes were kind. "Stay still, now. Do not wriggle."

He picked up his hammer and the wedge. Carefully, he placed the point of the wedge on the log, just beside the old crack. Tak! Tak! Tak! The wedge went in, and slowly, slowly, the crack began to open again.

Out slipped Chilipi's tail!

The little monkey jumped into Grandpa's arms. His tail was sore and a little bent, and a tuft of fur was missing from the tip. But it was safe.

"Thank you," chattered Chilipi, though of course Ramayya only heard, "Kich, kich, kich!"

Ramayya laughed. "Off you go, and leave my tools alone next time!"

That evening, high in the mango tree, Grandpa Bheemudu rubbed some cool leaves on Chilipi's tail.

"Grandpa," said Chilipi softly, "I thought that wedge did not belong there. But it did. It had a very important job."

"That is right," said Grandpa. "When you do not understand something, and it is not yours, the clever thing is to leave it alone, or to ask someone who knows."

Chilipi curled his sore tail around himself. "Next time," he yawned, "I will ask first."

And from that day on, he did. Well, almost always.

So, my dear, the next time you see something you do not understand, what will you do? That is right. You will ask first. Good night.