The Truthfull Servant
Along the banks of the River Godavari, there lived two prosperous landowners, Rajaram and Kapoor. Both men were wealthy and enjoyed each other’s company, spending many an afternoon together, lounging and discussing matters of crops and land, as their fields were vast and their harvests abundant.
One warm afternoon, Kapoor made his usual visit to Rajaram. As they sat on the verandah sipping tea and discussing crop prices, Rajaram’s herd of cattle passed through the yard, tended by his herdsman, Ranga.
Rajaram called out to Ranga, “Where is my white ram, Ranga?”
“It is coming along, Master,” replied Ranga, giving a sharp whistle. Soon, the frisky white ram bounded through the gates, knowing full well that it would receive a tasty treat from Rajaram.
Rajaram patted the ram affectionately and turned to Kapoor. “I am certainly lucky. I have both a prize ram and a priceless servant in Ranga. No one in the entire state possesses such a fine animal—or such a fine servant.”
“I agree about the ram,” Kapoor remarked, “but all servants are the same. They’ll lose their heads to make a few rupees.”
Rajaram smiled broadly. “Ranga has been my servant for years, and I know from experience that he will never tell a lie.”
“Nonsense,” Kapoor snorted. “I will wager five hundred rupees that within three days, I can make your servant tell a lie.”
“You’re throwing your money away, my friend,” Rajaram chuckled. “In three days’ time, I’ll be happy to relieve you of your five hundred rupees.”
Kapoor, intrigued, went home that evening, pondering the challenge. Upon arriving, he called for his servant, Somu, and explained the wager. He promised Somu a hundred rupees if he could come up with a foolproof scheme to make Ranga tell a lie.
“It’s not going to be easy,” murmured Somu, scratching his chin. “But wait a minute. I know that Ranga wants to marry Lakshmi, the daughter of old Sundaram. However, her father won’t consent because Ranga doesn’t have enough money to buy a house.”
“What does that have to do with making him lie?” Kapoor asked, puzzled.
Somu grinned and rubbed his hands together. “Simple. Give me two hundred rupees, and I’ll arrange for Lakshmi to convince Ranga to sell you Rajaram’s prize white ram. He’ll sell it for two hundred rupees, and that money will be enough to buy a house.”
Kapoor, eager to win the wager, agreed and handed over the money. That evening, Somu went to find Lakshmi, confident that his persuasive skills would soon set his plan in motion.
By chance, he met Lakshmi on her way back from the village, carrying some purchases.
“Hullo, Lakshmi,” he greeted her. “When are you and that lucky fellow Ranga getting married?”
“Never, I’m afraid,” Lakshmi replied with a sigh. “Ranga will never be able to save enough to buy a house.”
Somu smiled slyly. “I can make things easier for both of you,” he said. “Tell Ranga to sell me his white ram, and I’ll give him two hundred rupees. That way, you’ll have enough for a house.”
“But that ram belongs to his master,” Lakshmi protested.
“Don’t be silly,” Somu replied, trying to sound important. “The ram belongs to whoever grazes it. Tell Ranga to give it to you as a gift, and then you can sell it to me. Here’s the money.” He thrust the two hundred rupees into her hands and walked away.
Later that evening, Lakshmi eagerly met Ranga. She couldn’t wait to share the good news.
“Now we can get married!” she announced, showing him the two hundred rupees.
Ranga looked at her warily. “Where did you get that money?”
“It’s all so simple,” she said with a delighted laugh. “You just give me the white ram you graze, and I’ve already sold it for two hundred rupees!”
Ranga’s face went pale. “The white ram!” he shouted in disbelief. “That ram belongs to my master! If I sell it, I’ll be accused of stealing and sent to prison!”
Lakshmi’s face fell, and she burst into tears. “What shall we do?” she cried.
“Who did you sell the ram to?” Ranga asked urgently.
Lakshmi explained what had happened, and Ranga’s expression softened. Realizing that Kapoor and Somu were behind this plan, he hurried to Rajaram’s house, his heart heavy with worry.
When Rajaram heard Ranga’s account, he turned to Kapoor and Somu, who were both looking uncomfortable.
Kapoor sighed in defeat and held up his hands. “I’ve lost the wager. He didn’t lie after all.”
Turning to Rajaram, Kapoor continued, “Here is your ram, as promised, and the five hundred rupees I owe you. As for you,” he said, glancing at Ranga, “Lakshmi may keep the two hundred rupees, so now you can get married.”
Rajaram smiled, pleased that his prize ram was safe, and added, “And I’ll contribute another two hundred rupees for the wedding, so that you can start your new life together.”
Ranga, still stunned by the turn of events, couldn’t believe his luck. Not only did he still have his job, but now he had the support of both Rajaram and Kapoor. As for Kapoor, although he had lost the wager, he could take solace in the fact that he had learned a valuable lesson—never underestimate the integrity of a good servant.
