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Deception in the Depths: The Tale of the Brahmin and the Crocodile

The Brahmin and the Crocodile

In a quaint, picturesque village nestled beside a tranquil river, a wise old Brahmin named Madhaba lived. His humble abode was a reflection of his simple life; it was adorned with little clay figurines and paintings made by the village children. He shared this home with his wife, Saraswati, a woman known for her wit and kindness.

One day, while the golden hues of the dawn painted the skies, Madhaba was performing his morning rituals by the river. The water’s rhythmic waves and the melodious chirping of the birds were usually the only sounds to be heard. However, that morning, a series of desperate splashes and groans broke the serenity.

Curious, Madhaba looked around to discover a massive crocodile entangled in a fisherman’s net. Its formidable, scaly body writhed in pain, and its eyes showed a mix of fear and sorrow. Moved by compassion, Madhaba approached the creature cautiously and began to untangle the net. After some effort, the crocodile was freed. As it regained its composure, the beast turned its massive head toward the Brahmin. Instead of the expected ferocity, its eyes sparkled with gratitude.

“Thank you, kind human,” the crocodile murmured in a gravelly voice. “I am Keshaba. Your act of kindness will not be forgotten. Ask, and I shall grant you any wish within my power.”

The two struck an unusual friendship. They’d meet by the riverbank, sharing stories of mystical lands, discussing the changing seasons, or simply enjoying the harmonious silences. Their bond grew stronger with each passing day.

One sunny afternoon, with a hesitant pause, Keshaba invited Madhaba to his underwater dwelling for a special meal. Excited at the prospect of visiting his friend’s underwater world and enjoying the famed delicacies of the river, Madhaba gladly accepted.

However, as Madhaba approached Keshaba’s lair, an unsettling awareness gripped him. The captivating underwater dwelling was hauntingly decorated with bones, skulls, and traces of past feasts. It was unmistakable – Keshaba intended for Madhaba to be his next meal.

Panicking but maintaining his composure, the wise Brahmin said, “Oh dear Keshaba, I am honored by your invitation, but I must tell you, I left my heart at home. It’s an ancient tradition in our village to do so when visiting friends. How can I be a worthy feast without my heart?”

Keshaba, albeit puzzled, offered to escort Madhaba back to his home to retrieve his heart. But he warned, “Do not let your wife know of our plan. I have a keen sense when one lies.”

As they approached his home, Madhaba called out to his wife, narrating their adventure in a coded manner. Saraswati, ever the astute listener, quickly understood her husband’s plight.

With a theatrical sigh, she exclaimed, “Oh dear husband! How could you forget your heart here when visiting our friend? Don’t you know it’s the most delicious part?”

Keshaba’s eyes widened. He felt a surge of embarrassment realizing he had been outwitted. “I apologize, Madhaba,” he said remorsefully, “I let my instincts blind our friendship.”

From that day forth, Keshaba became a vegetarian, subsisting on aquatic plants and fruits, and their friendship thrived. The village still whispers the tale of the Brahmin and the crocodile, a tale of trust, quick wit, and the strength of genuine friendship.

Disclaimer: The stories shared on this website are folklores and have been passed down through generations. While we make every effort to ensure the accuracy and authenticity of the information presented, we cannot guarantee the original source of these stories. Readers are advised to use their own discretion and judgment when reading and interpreting these stories. We are not accountable for the source of these stories or any claims that may arise from their use.

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