Sumati Satakam: Where a good town needs a doctor and a river

Told in English, Telugu.

In a small village near Guntur, there lived a girl named Sravya. She was seven years old, she had two long plaits, and she had a little brother named Chintu who was four and never stopped running.

One evening, Nanna came home with big news. "My office is moving," he said. "We will have to settle in a new town. There are two towns we can choose from. One is Ramapuram, and the other is Kotapalli."

Sravya's eyes grew wide. A new town! A new school! But how would they choose?

Tatayya was sitting on the swing on the verandah, slowly rocking. He smiled and said, "A long, long time ago, a wise poet wrote a little poem about exactly this. Many people believe his name was Baddena. He wrote a hundred poems, and each one ends with the word Sumati, which means a person with a good mind. Shall I tell you this one?"

"Yes, Tatayya!" said Sravya. Chintu climbed onto the swing too.

Tatayya said the poem slowly, like a song. "Appicchuvaadu, vaidyudu, eppudu nedategaka paaru neerunu, dvijudun, joppadina oora nundumu, joppadakunnatti ooru chorakumu Sumati."

Then he explained. "The poet says, live in a town that has four things. First, someone who will lend you money when you are in trouble. Second, a doctor. Third, a river that flows all the time and never dries up. And fourth, a learned person, someone who knows the old books and teaches others. If a town does not have these, do not go to live there."

Sravya counted on her fingers. "Someone who lends, a doctor, a river, a learned person. Four things!"

"Can you say them with me?" asked Tatayya. And they all said them together, even Chintu, though he said "river" three times.

So that Sunday, the whole family took the bus to see the first town, Kotapalli. It had big shops and shiny signboards. But when Sravya asked about the river, a man shook his head. "There is a stream, but it dries up every summer. In May, we buy water from tankers."

"And the doctor?" asked Amma.

"The nearest hospital is two hours away," said the man.

On the bus home, Sravya whispered, "Tatayya, Kotapalli is missing two things."

Tatayya nodded. "You have a good mind, Sumati," he said, and Sravya giggled.

The next Sunday, they went to Ramapuram. It was smaller, with neem trees and a little temple. And best of all, the Krishna river flowed right beside it, wide and silver, sparkling in the sun.

"Look, Nanna! A river that never stops!" cried Sravya.

But just then, something happened. Chintu, running as always, slipped on the stone steps by the river. He fell down and began to cry. His knee was scraped and bleeding a little.

Amma picked him up. "Oh, Chintu, kanna!" Sravya's heart went thump, thump. What would they do in a town where they knew no one?

An old boatman pointed up the road. "Go to Doctor Lakshmi garu. Her clinic is just near the temple. She is very kind."

They hurried there. Doctor Lakshmi garu had gentle hands and a big smile. She cleaned Chintu's knee and put on a bandage with a little star on it. "Brave boy," she said. "It will heal in three days." Chintu stopped crying and stared proudly at his star.

"That is two things," whispered Sravya. "A river and a doctor."

But then, Amma opened her bag and gasped. "My purse! It must have fallen by the river. All our bus money was in it!"

Everyone went quiet. The sun was already going down. How would they get home?

Near the clinic there was a small shop selling rice and dal. The shopkeeper, Venkayya garu, had heard everything. He came out and said, "Don't worry, amma. Take this money for the bus. You can send it back whenever you can."

Nanna folded his hands. "Thank you, garu. We will return it soon."

"That is how we live in Ramapuram," said Venkayya garu. "We help each other."

Sravya tugged Tatayya's sleeve. "Three things! Someone who lends!"

Now there was only one left. While they waited for the bus, they heard children's voices coming from the temple. Under a big banyan tree sat an old man with white hair, teaching a group of children to say poems. He was Sastry garu, the village teacher, who knew many old books by heart.

When Tatayya went closer, Sastry garu looked up and smiled. "Would your granddaughter like to learn with us?"

Sravya's face lit up like a Deepavali lamp. "Four things, Tatayya! All four!"

On the bus home, Chintu fell asleep with his starry knee on Amma's lap. Sravya looked out at the river shining in the moonlight.

"Nanna," she said softly, "I think the poet would choose Ramapuram."

Nanna laughed. "I think so too."

And so, a month later, the family went to live in Ramapuram. The very first thing Nanna did was return the money to Venkayya garu, with a box of sweets as a thank you. Sravya went every evening to learn poems under the banyan tree. And whenever she passed the river, she would whisper the old poem to herself, the poem that had helped her family find a good home.

Now, my dear, can you remember the four things? Someone who lends, a doctor, a river that always flows, and a learned person. Sleep well, little Sumati.