Vemana: Salt and camphor look alike

Told in English, Telugu.

In the village of Kovvur, close to the wide Godavari river, there lived a little girl named Chinni. She was seven years old, she had two long plaits, and she loved helping her Ammamma, especially on festival days.

One morning it was Vinayaka Chavithi. The whole house smelled of jasmine and fresh undrallu. Ammamma had made a little clay Ganesha sit on a wooden plank, with patri leaves all around him.

"Chinni," called Ammamma, "bring me a piece of camphor for the harathi. It is in the small steel box on the shelf."

Chinni ran to the shelf. But there were two small steel boxes, side by side, exactly alike. She opened the first one. Inside were white, shiny lumps. She opened the second one. Inside were white, shiny lumps too!

Chinni looked from one box to the other. Hmm. Which one was camphor? She picked the lump that looked the shiniest and ran back.

"Here, Ammamma!"

Ammamma did not light it straight away. She smiled and held it out. "First, smell it, Chinni."

Chinni sniffed. Nothing. No sweet smell at all. She sniffed again. "Ammamma, it does not smell of anything!"

Ammamma laughed softly. "That is because it is rock salt, kanna. The camphor is in the other box. They look the same, don't they? But camphor has a sweet, strong smell, and it burns with a bright flame. Salt does not burn at all. And remember, we never taste anything from the puja shelf. We use our nose and our eyes, carefully."

Chinni went back and smelled the other box. Oh! A cool, sweet smell filled her nose. That was the camphor. She brought it, and Ammamma lit the harathi. The little flame danced in front of Ganesha, bright and golden.

After the puja, Ammamma sat on the swing on the verandah and pulled Chinni close. "Do you know, a wise poet named Vemana wrote a verse about exactly this. Shall I tell it to you?"

Chinni nodded.

Ammamma said it slowly, like a song. "Uppu kappurambu nokka polikanundu, chooda chooda ruchula jaada veru, purushulandu punya purushulu verayaa, Vishwadabhirama vinura Vema."

"What does it mean, Ammamma?"

"It means this. Salt and camphor look just alike. But look closely, again and again, and you will find they are very different inside. In the same way, among all people, good people are different. You cannot always tell from the outside. You find out slowly, by watching what they do."

Chinni thought about this. Then she said, "Ammamma, in my class there is a new girl called Sravya. She has shiny glass bangles, and she says she will be my best friend. And there is Lakshmi. She is very quiet. She hardly talks to anyone."

Ammamma only smiled. "Watch them both, Chinni. Look closely, like you did with the boxes."

The very next day was the school drawing competition. Every child had to draw a picture of a festival, and the best ones would be put up on the wall for the whole village to see. Chinni was so excited. She had her paper, her pencil, and her new box of crayons.

But on the way to school, it had rained. As Chinni jumped over a puddle near the temple, her crayon box slipped out of her hand. Splash! It fell right into the muddy water. When she fished it out, the crayons were wet and muddy, and most of them had broken into tiny bits.

Chinni's eyes filled with tears. How would she draw now?

In class, the teacher said, "Children, you have one hour. Begin!"

Chinni turned to Sravya, whose crayon box was big and bright, with forty colours. "Sravya, can I please borrow a few crayons?"

Sravya held her box close. "Sorry, Chinni. These are new. My father bought them in Rajahmundry. If you use them, they will get blunt." And she turned back to her own drawing, her bangles jingling.

Chinni looked down at her empty paper. The clock was ticking. Ten minutes went by. Then fifteen. Some children had already coloured whole skies and trees. Would Chinni have to give in a blank page?

Then a small hand pushed something onto her desk. It was Lakshmi. She had broken her own crayons in half, red, yellow, green and blue, and she was sharing the halves.

"Take these," Lakshmi whispered. "We can both use them. Mine are old, but they still colour well."

Chinni could hardly believe it. "But Lakshmi, now you have only half crayons too!"

Lakshmi shrugged and smiled. "Half is enough for both of us."

So the two girls sat side by side, passing the little pieces back and forth. Chinni drew her Ammamma holding the harathi, with a bright yellow flame in front of a clay Ganesha. Lakshmi drew a row of lamps for Deepavali. Just as the bell rang, they finished, both of them laughing at their colourful fingers.

That evening, Chinni ran home and told Ammamma everything. "Ammamma, I looked closely, just like Vemana said! Sravya has shiny bangles, but Lakshmi has a kind heart. She is like the camphor. She looked plain from the outside, but she shines like a flame inside!"

Ammamma hugged her. "You understood the verse better than many grown ups, kanna. And remember, Sravya is still learning too. Be kind to her. But now you know who a true friend is."

A week later, the teacher put the best drawings on the school wall. And right there, side by side, were Chinni's harathi and Lakshmi's lamps.

Shall we say Vemana's verse together before we sleep? Uppu kappurambu nokka polikanundu. Look closely, little one, and you will always find the camphor.