Custom Search
Children are used to listening to stories narrated by grown-ups.
Grandmothers telling them stories was once a common activity in homes.
Then came books with such stories, for children to read for themselves,
when grandmothers or other elders were not present or were not
available. The growth of what is known as children’s literature has been a
phenomenon, as there are children’s books in every language, in every
country. In India too, which is a vast country, books have been written,
printed, and published. And there were readers, too, who enjoyed going
through them for entertainment, knowledge, and education. However,
there are not enough number of books to go round and reach each and
every child.
Take that small island nation Singapore, where some novel experiments
are being successfully carried out by, for example, the Singapore Indian
Development Association. Like “Project Read.” Once or twice a week, volunteers
from SINDA visit homes and read books to children. There are “Reading Centres”
which promote the reading habit in children. These centres are also run by
volunteers.Children regularly visit these centres.There are also “Library
Helpdesks” functioning at Community and Regional libraries. This facility is used
by whole families. In short books do reach children.
In India, the library movement is strong in several States. There should
then never be a decline in the reading habit. Books are meant
for reading. “Reading maketh the perfect
man” - as the saying goes.
NEW TALES OF KING VIKRAM AND THE VETALA
Unswerving, King Vikram went back to the tree, took
down the corpse, slung it across his shoulder and began
to stride towards the burial ground. The Vetala started
speaking once again. “What a pity that you have come
back here on a wretched night like this. Let me give you
some diversion. I shall tell you a story.” He began:
King Suketu of Marala was a valiant and wise
ruler. One year, drought and famine struck
the kingdom. In a few years, many people
died of starvation and many others left
their houses. Business was affected and
the people became poor.
To this land came a very old man
called Viswakarma. He claimed to be
an alchemist. When he saw the plight of
the people, he met the king and said, “O
King, I have devoted my entire life to
alchemy. If you support me for a year, I shall
be able to make as much gold as you need.”
King Suketu thought that this was a great
opportunity to make the kingdom rich. He only
had to take care of the old man for a year and then
he would have all the gold he wanted. The country
would prosper again.
“Agreed,” said the king to Viswakarma. “You can
live in the palace for a year and carry out your work. I
shall provide you with all the equipment and material that
you may need to make gold. You can retain one-sixteenth
of it yourself and give me the rest.”
Viswakarma agreed to the terms. He was provided
with a workshop and all the necessary equipment and
material. He spent all his time in the workshop.
Soon one year passed. The king called him to the
court and asked him if the gold was ready.
The alchemist replied, “O King, the gold making
process is not yet complete. I need six more months to
finish the work.”
The king was disappointed. “You lied to me. You’ve
frustrated all my plans. I had planned to raise a huge army
with the gold you produced. I wanted to attack the
neighbouring kingdoms and become a powerful monarch.
But I shall give you one more opportunity. You may take
six more months to complete the job. But mind you, I
shall not excuse you a second time.”
Viswakarma was now in a predicament. He did not
know what to do. He could not make even a dust of
gold, although he had devoted all his life to learning the
art. For the past few years he had depended on others to
keep him alive. When he asked the king a year’s time, he
had hoped that he would die before the end of the year.
He had been very weak and ill when he arrived at Suketu’s
doorstep. But a year at the palace with sumptuous food,
and medicine men at his beck and call had revived him.
He was in the pink of health. Now he could not bring
himself to commit suicide.
He had obtained another six months of comfort, but
he did not know what he was going to do at the end of it.
Viswakarma contemplated running away, but King
Suketu had the palace well guarded. The king’s threat
echoed in his ears. He reconciled to the thought that he
would die an unnatural death at the hands of the king.
When the six months also got over, the king sent for
the old man and asked him, “Are you ready with the gold?”
The old man replied boldly, “O King, I’m not destined
to make gold even if I were to live for a thousand years.”
The king was furious, “Then, in that case you know
what your punishment is!”
“Just a minute, your majesty,” interrupted the
alchemist. “As a result of my experiments I have
discovered something which will be of greater value to
you than all the gold in the world.”
“What have you discovered?” the king asked
suspiciously.
“Silver!” the old man replied. “Silver purified and
made more powerful with the help of several rare herbs.”
“Of what use is this enriched silver to me?” asked
the king angrily.
The alchemist replied, “Sir, I shall beat the silver into
a thin sheet and cover the hilt of your sword with it. With
that sword you can conquer anyone. The sword will obtain
for you all the gold you want.”
“Are you trying to cheat me once again?” the king
asked him sceptically.
“O King, how can I deceive you and get away with
it? If the sword fails you, you can behead me immediately,”
replied the old man.
King Suketu felt that the alchemist was now talking
sense. He handed him his sword. Soon the alchemist had
its hilt covered with the powerful enriched silver. The sword
was taken around the city in a procession and then
sanctified.
The king thanked Viswakarma and gave him loads
of gifts and a palace to live in.
The news about the all-conquering sword spread like
wild fire. Some of the neighbouring rulers were frightened,
though the others did not believe in the rumours. They
thought that Viswakarma had played a hoax on King
Suketu.
But soon, King Suketu marched into a neighbouring
country with his small army. The ruler of the country sought
the advice of his ministers: “Suketu has got no army worth
mentioning. He is marching on us out of his blind faith in
his sword. Let’s fight him,” suggested some of them. But
others said, “Suketu is no fool. He’s too good a warrior
to attack with such a small army unless there is something
in that sword. They say the sword is certain death to his
enemies. It is foolish to die in bravado. Let us strike a
truce.”
The king was thoroughly frightened. He surrendered
to King Suketu.
After that, Suketu never faced defeat. He invaded
many kingdoms and, though some kings put forth brave
resistance, they could never win.
Soon no king of the region dared face Suketu. All
Suketu had to do was, send a messenger to the enemy
camp and his enemies would line up for a truce.
In a short while, King Suketu became a powerful
monarch. Marala grew rich and prosperous once again.
Viswakarma’s fame spread far and wide.
Here the Vetala stopped and asked, “O King, how
could Viswakarma manufacture such powerful silver in
six months, when he was not able to produce gold even
in a year? Why did he have to spend all his life maintaining
himself with the help of lies? If you know the answer and
still refuse to speak, your head will split into a thousand
pieces!”
Forthwith King Vikram replied, “The silver sword
manufactured by Viswakarma had no powers whatsoever.
Such powers lie in the minds of those who believe in them.
Suketu himself was the first man to believe in the powers
of the sword. So he started on a march of conquest with
only a small army. His neighbour was the next man to
believe in the powers and he accepted defeat without a
Chandamama
9
fight. As the number of believers increased, so did the
powers of the silver. It is easier to create power than to
create material. But Viswakarma had to lie as long as he
did not realise this truth. In the face of death, he realised
this truth and prospered. As a matter of fact, this was the
alchemy that he mastered in his old age!”
No sooner had the king broken his silence, than
the Vetala disappeared back into the gloom of the
moonless night.
