Tenali Rama and the Thieves

Long ago, in the great city of Vijayanagara, there lived a man called Tenali Rama.

He was a poet at the court of King Krishnadevaraya, and he was famous for being the cleverest man in the whole kingdom.

Tenali Rama lived in a house with a big garden full of fruit trees and vegetables. But that summer, there had been very little rain. The garden was dry and dusty, and the plants were drooping.

Something in the bushes

One hot night, Tenali Rama came home late from the palace. As he walked up to his door, he noticed something.

Behind the bushes near the well, two shadows moved.

Tenali Rama didn't stop. He didn't look. But out of the corner of his eye, he saw two men crouching in the dark.

"Thieves," he thought. "They're waiting until we're asleep, so they can break in."

Most people would have shouted, or run to fetch the guards. But Tenali Rama only smiled to himself. He had a better idea.

A loud little talk

He went inside and found his wife.

"Listen," he whispered. "There are two thieves in the garden. Don't be afraid. Just play along with me."

Then he walked over to the open window and said, in a loud voice:

"My dear, I have heard that there are many thieves about these days. We must hide our gold and jewels somewhere safe tonight!"

His wife understood at once. "Yes!" she said, just as loudly. "But where can we hide them?"

"In the well!" said Tenali Rama. "Who would ever look for treasure at the bottom of a well?"

He fetched a big wooden trunk. He filled it with heavy stones and old pots and pans. Then he carried it out into the garden, puffing and panting, and dropped it into the well.

SPLASH!

"There," he said. "Our treasure is safe. Let's go to sleep."

And he went inside, and blew out the lamp.

Busy, busy thieves

The two thieves rubbed their hands with glee.

"Did you hear that?" whispered one. "All their gold, at the bottom of the well!"

"The well is deep," said the other. "We'll have to draw out all the water to reach it."

So they began. They lowered the bucket into the well and pulled it up, full of water. They emptied it out onto the ground. Then they lowered it again.

Pull, heave, splash. Pull, heave, splash.

All night long they worked. Their arms ached. Their backs hurt. The water flowed out across the dry garden, into the flowerbeds, around the fruit trees and down the rows of vegetables.

Inside the house, Tenali Rama lay in bed, listening, and quietly laughing.

Good morning!

Just as the sky was turning pink, the thieves finally pulled up the trunk. They broke it open, and they found... stones. And old pots. And pans.

Just then, Tenali Rama stepped out of his door and stretched.

"Good morning, my friends!" he called. "Thank you so much for watering my garden. I've been wondering how I'd ever find the time to do it myself!"

The thieves looked at the wet garden. They looked at the stones. Then they looked at each other, and ran off as fast as their tired legs would carry them.

Tenali Rama's wife came out and laughed until she had to sit down. And that summer, their garden grew the sweetest mangoes in all of Vijayanagara.

About this story

Tenali Ramakrishna was a real poet at the court of King Krishnadevaraya of the Vijayanagara Empire, in the 1500s. The funny stories about his cleverness are folk tales, told across South India and beyond, and there are many versions of this one. This version is a shortened, simplified retelling.