Riddles 1

Told in English, Telugu.

In a small village near Rajahmundry, there lived a brother and sister named Chinni and Bujji. Chinni was eight, and Bujji was six. Their Nanna worked far away in Hyderabad, and every month he sent them a letter. This month, the letter was late.

One hot afternoon, after a lunch of pappu and rice, the two children sat on the front steps, staring at the dusty road.

"When will the postman come?" asked Bujji, swinging his legs. "I have been waiting since morning!"

"Maybe he forgot us," said Chinni sadly. "Maybe Nanna is too busy to write."

Ammamma came out with a small steel tumbler of buttermilk for each of them. She sat down on the cool stone step and smiled.

"Waiting is hard work," she said. "But I know a trick to make the time fly. Shall we play a game of riddles, like I played with your Amma when she was small?"

Bujji sat up straight. "Yes, Ammamma! Ask me first!"

"All right," said Ammamma, tapping her chin. "Listen carefully. There is a green house. Inside the green house are red rooms. And inside the red rooms live many little black children. What is it?"

Bujji frowned. Chinni looked up at the sky. Can you guess too? Think... think...

Bujji jumped up. "A watermelon! The skin is green like a house, the inside is red like rooms, and the seeds are the little black children!"

"Very good!" laughed Ammamma. "And this evening, I will cut one for you, so you can visit those little black children yourself."

Chinni giggled, but then she looked at the road again. Still no postman. Only a buffalo walking slowly past, and a crow sitting on the neem tree.

"Here is one for Chinni," said Ammamma quickly. "It sits on your nose, and it holds on to your ears, and it helps old people like me to see. What is it?"

Chinni closed her eyes. Think... think...

Then she pointed straight at Ammamma's face. "Your glasses! They sit on your nose and hold your ears!"

Ammamma pushed her glasses up and laughed so hard that her bangles jingled. "Caught me! Yes, my glasses."

Now the children were enjoying themselves. Bujji tugged her sari. "One more, Ammamma, a hard one!"

"A hard one? Let me see," said Ammamma. "There is a white field. In the white field, someone sows black seeds with the hand. But nobody gathers the seeds with a sickle. They gather them with the mouth. What is it?"

This one was very hard. Bujji scratched his head. Chinni counted on her fingers. A white field? Black seeds? Gathered with the mouth? Can you work it out? Think... think...

Chinni gasped. "I know! It is writing! The white field is the paper. The black seeds are the letters we write with our hand. And we gather them with our mouth when we read them aloud!"

"Wah, Chinni!" said Ammamma, clapping. "You are clever like your Nanna."

Thinking of Nanna made Chinni quiet again. Her eyes went back to the road. "Ammamma, what if his letter never comes?" she whispered.

Ammamma put a soft arm around her. "Your Nanna has never forgotten you, not even for one day. Letters travel a long, long way. Sometimes they need a little more time. Now, I have saved the best riddle for last. It is a very old one. My own Ammamma told it to me."

She said it slowly, like a little song. "Toka leni pitta, tombhai aamadalu potundi."

Bujji's eyes went wide. "A bird with no tail?"

"Yes," said Ammamma. "It means, there is a bird with no tail, and yet it flies ninety aamadas, very, very far away. It has no wings that flap, no beak that sings. But it carries news from one home to another. What is it?"

Chinni and Bujji looked at each other. A bird with no tail? Flying so far? Carrying news? Can you say the riddle with me? Toka leni pitta, tombhai aamadalu potundi. Now think... think...

Just then, they heard something. Tring, tring! A bicycle bell! Down the dusty road came a man in a khaki uniform, with a big bag hanging from his shoulder.

"The postman!" shouted Bujji.

The postman stopped at their gate and smiled. "A letter for Chinni and Bujji, from Hyderabad!" He held up a white envelope with a stamp in the corner.

Chinni ran and took it with both hands. Then she stopped, and a slow smile spread across her face. She turned to Ammamma.

"Ammamma! This is the answer! The bird with no tail is a letter! It has no tail and no wings, but it flew all the way from Hyderabad to our house, carrying Nanna's news!"

Ammamma's eyes twinkled. "Exactly right, my clever girl. The letter is the bird with no tail."

They all sat down on the steps together, and Chinni opened the envelope carefully. She read it aloud, gathering the black seeds from the white field with her mouth, just like the riddle said.

"My dear Chinni and Bujji," the letter said. "I am sorry this letter is late. I was busy getting ready for a happy surprise. I am coming home for Sankranti! Keep the kites ready. With lots of love, your Nanna."

Bujji jumped up and down. Chinni hugged the letter to her chest. Ammamma wiped a happy tear from behind her glasses.

"You see?" she said softly. "The waiting felt long, but the riddles made it short. And the little bird with no tail found its way home."

That evening, Ammamma cut a big, juicy watermelon, and they all ate the red rooms, spat out the little black children, and laughed until the stars came out.

And tomorrow, maybe you can ask your family these riddles too. Do you remember the bird with no tail?