The Miser Outwitted

In a certain village lived a poet named Poovanna. He would compose happy verses on people and received enough money for his efforts. So he did not lack for anything in life and lived comfortably.

Though everyone paid Poovanna for his verses, the feudal lord of the village ignored him. Now, this man was a well-known miser who would praise the poor poet to the skies but would stop short of giving him any gifts. Poovanna was determined to get some reward from the lord, so he waited for an opportunity.

A few days later, the lord celebrated the marriage of his daughter. Poovanna was also one of the invitees. The landlord was seated in one of the rooms talking to his numerous friends. Just then, Poovanna entered and began to recite verses praising the generous nature of the host and compared him to the celestial god Indra. All those who heard him clapped their hands in joy and said they hadn’t heard such sweet verses.

The landlord could hardly send Poovanna away without rewarding him. So he asked the poet what he desired. The poet said, “Sire, I need a milch cow.”

The landlord called his servant aside and said, “If I don’t give what he asks for, then people will think ill of me. So, go to the cow shed and bring that doddering old cow.”

The cow arrived, and Poovanna was disappointed to see it was an old one, past all use. How could he take that old creature home? Then he thought of something. Quickly he leaned over and pretended to whisper something into the ears of the cow.

The landlord, noticing this, asked curiously, “Ah, Poovanna, you have already become very friendly with the cow, I see! What does she say?”

Poovanna replied, “Sire, I merely said, ‘Can you walk as far as my house?’ to which the cow replied, ‘How silly can you be! I was born in the Kritha era and served under Mahishasura. When he was destroyed, I continued into the Thretha era and saw the redoubtable Ravana perish at the hands of Lord Rama. Then came the Dwapara era, and I was privileged to see the exciting adventures of Lord Krishna.

Now in the Kali era, I have lived for several thousand years, yet you ask me whether I can walk as far as your house!”

When the poet finished his account, all the people laughed uproariously, but the landlord looked glum because he realized that Poovanna was pulling his leg. So he called his servants and said, “You idiots, I asked you to bring me a good milch cow, and you have brought this old thing. If I am to be served by such fools, how can I ever prosper? Go and bring a good cow and present it to this good poet.”

What else could the landlord do?

A better replacement for the old cow arrived, and Poovanna, after reciting some more verses in praise of the landlord, went home driving the new cow before him.