The Artful Servant
Gupta was a crusty old bachelor who, despite his curmudgeonly nature, had a fondness for good food. To ensure that he always had the finest meals, he employed a capable cook. But mind you, Gupta was no fool when it came to expenses; he wouldn’t tolerate any nonsense over marketing costs or disappearing food.
One morning, Gupta ran into an old friend who had just returned from a trip up north. After the usual pleasantries, the friend, with a flourish, opened a fruit basket and presented Gupta with two very fine-looking mangoes.
Gupta, who was particularly partial to mangoes, took the precious fruit home and gave his cook very precise instructions: “Slice these mangoes carefully, and make sure there’s no waste at all.”
Now, the cook, who was also fond of mangoes, washed the fruit with great care. As he began to slice them, his mouth watered, and he found himself unable to resist a tiny taste. Just a small slice, he thought. But, of course, one slice led to another, and before he knew it, he had eaten an entire mango.
At this point, the cook realized the trouble he was in. His master would surely notice that one of the mangoes was missing. He quickly thought of an excuse. Perhaps he could say one of the mangoes was spoiled, or even better, claim that someone had come into the kitchen and stolen both the mangoes.
But no, he decided that the theft story wouldn’t work. In a moment of gratitude to his imagination—and a bit more indulgence—he devoured the second mango as well. It was even more delicious than the first.
Meanwhile, Gupta, unaware of the cook’s actions, noticed a holy man passing by his house. He called out to the holy man, inviting him in to share some refreshments. As soon as the holy man was seated comfortably, Gupta rushed into the kitchen and told the cook to serve two slices of mango to their guest.
The cook, looking frantic, threw up his arms in despair. “Look at this knife!” he cried, pointing to the only knife in the kitchen. “It’s so blunt, it can’t even cut through butter!”
“Go and sharpen it, then,” replied Gupta, picking up the knife himself and heading out to the yard to sharpen it on a stone.
As soon as his master was out of sight, the cook saw an opportunity. He quickly hurried into the room where the holy man was seated and whispered urgently, “Don’t stay here! My master worships the goddess Kali and plans to cut off your ears as a sacrifice! Even now, he is sharpening his knife to do the ghastly deed. Come, I’ll show you!”
When the holy man saw Gupta in the yard with the knife, he was horrified. Without thinking, he leaped up with a scream and bolted out of the house, running as fast as he could. Gupta, hearing the commotion, rushed back inside and shouted, “What’s going on here?”
“There was no holy man, sir,” the cook replied quickly. “It was just the wind.”
But just as the cook finished speaking, the holy man’s head popped up at the window, making a face at Gupta before continuing to run away.
Gupta, still clutching the knife, rushed out into the street. Spotting the holy man in the distance, he called to him, “Stop! Stop!”
The holy man, seeing the knife in Gupta’s hand, was filled with terror. He wasn’t about to let anyone cut off his ears. In a burst of speed that would have made any marathon runner proud, he dashed off down the street.
Gupta, hoping to recover his two mangoes, took off after him, running with all his might. And as far as anyone knows, the two men are still running.