Vemana: The fig fruit — looks aren't everything

Told in English, Telugu.

Every summer, Chintu went to stay with his Ammamma in a little village near the Godavari river. Ammamma's house had a red tiled roof, a cow named Gowri, a small calf named Lakshmi, and a big old fig tree standing near the well.

One morning, Chintu looked up at the fig tree and gasped. Hanging from the branches were the most beautiful fruits he had ever seen. They were round and glossy, red and gold, shining in the sun like little lamps.

"Ammamma, look! Can I eat one?" he asked.

Ammamma smiled a secret sort of smile. She reached up, picked the shiniest fig of all, and placed it in his hand. "First, break it open," she said.

Chintu pressed the fig with his thumbs. It split in two. And inside, wriggling around, were tiny, tiny insects!

"Chee!" Chintu cried, and dropped it on the ground. "It looked so lovely on the outside!"

Ammamma laughed softly. "Remember this fig, kanna. One day soon, you will understand why."

That afternoon, Chintu went to play with the village children under the neem tree. There was a boy named Ravi, who wore a bright new shirt with shining buttons. Ravi talked very loudly.

"I am the bravest boy in this whole village," Ravi announced. "I am not afraid of anything. Not snakes, not ghosts, not the dark. Nothing!"

The other children looked at him with big eyes. Chintu thought Ravi must be very brave indeed.

Sitting quietly at the edge was a thin boy named Seenu. His shirt was old and patched at the elbow. He didn't say much. When the others played kabaddi, he only helped tie up the goats and carry water for his mother.

"Seenu never says anything," Ravi laughed. "I think he is scared of his own shadow!"

Seenu just smiled and kept quiet.

That evening, as the sky turned orange and then purple, Ammamma came hurrying out of the cowshed. Her face was worried.

"Lakshmi is missing!" she said. "The little calf has wandered off. I think she went into the sugarcane field. It is getting dark, and she is so small."

Chintu's heart thumped. He ran to the neem tree, where Ravi and Seenu were still sitting.

"Please help! Ammamma's calf is lost in the sugarcane field!"

Ravi jumped up at once and puffed out his chest. "Don't worry! I will find her. I told you, I am not afraid of anything. Follow me!"

So the three boys walked to the edge of the sugarcane field. The tall green canes swayed and whispered in the wind. It was very dark between them. Somewhere, a frog croaked. Ravi took one step inside. Then another.

And then, from deep inside the field, came a sound.

Rustle. Rustle. Swish.

Ravi froze. "Wh-what was that?"

Rustle. Rustle.

"It might be a snake! Or a wild pig! Or something even worse!" Ravi cried. And he turned and ran all the way back to the road, his shiny buttons flashing as he went.

Chintu stood very still. His knees felt wobbly. What should they do now?

Then Seenu quietly took the small torch from his pocket. "Chintu," he said softly, "I am a little scared too. But Lakshmi is more scared than us. She is all alone. Shall we go together, slowly?"

Chintu swallowed hard and nodded. He held on to the back of Seenu's patched shirt.

Step by step, they walked between the tall canes. Seenu shone the torch left and right. Rustle. Rustle. The sound was coming closer. Chintu held his breath.

And then the torchlight fell on two big, gentle brown eyes.

"Maaa!" said a small voice.

It was Lakshmi! Her little leg was stuck in a muddy patch, and every time she tried to pull free, the canes around her rustled and swished. That was the scary sound all along!

Seenu knelt down in the mud. Very gently, he dug around her leg with his fingers and lifted it out. "There you are, little one," he whispered, stroking her head. "You're safe now."

They led Lakshmi home. When Ammamma saw them, she hugged the calf, and then she hugged both boys, mud and all.

Ravi was standing by the gate, looking at his feet. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I talked so big, but I ran away. Seenu didn't say anything, but he was the brave one."

Seenu smiled kindly. "Everyone gets scared, Ravi. Next time, we can all go together."

Later that night, Chintu lay on his mat on the verandah, looking up at the stars. Ammamma sat beside him and stroked his hair.

"Do you remember the fig fruit this morning?" she asked.

Chintu thought. Then his eyes went wide. "Ravi was like the fig! Shiny shirt, big words, but inside he was scared. And Seenu looked plain, but inside he was brave and kind."

Ammamma nodded. "Long, long ago, a wise poet named Vemana said exactly that. Listen. Medipandu chooda melimai yundunu, potta vippi chooda purugulundu, pirikivaani madini binkamee laaguraa, Vishwadabhirama vinura Vema."

"What does it mean, Ammamma?"

"It means this. The fig fruit looks golden and lovely from outside. But open it up, and you find insects inside. The proud show of a coward is just like that fig. Big and shiny outside, but empty of courage within."

Chintu smiled sleepily. "So we should look at what is inside people, not just their shiny outside."

"Yes, kanna. And we should try to be like Seenu. Good on the inside, even if nobody is watching."

Can you say the first line with me? Medipandu chooda melimai yundunu. Very good!

And from the cowshed, little Lakshmi gave one last happy "Maaa," as if she agreed. Goodnight.