Veranda Tales-The Merchant’s Belly button
Storytelling has been an integral part of my life since childhood. I grew up listening to stories during the hot summer evenings and nights with my cousins. Mothers and grandmothers would gather all of us children for story time. It was usually pitch dark except for a very faint light coming from the flickering candle. Power cuts were as frequent as the hot and humid summer days. We all spread out on a cool concrete floor or on bamboo mats on the veranda intently listening to fascinating stories about kings, queens, princes, princesses, and peasants alike. Stories about love, life, families, and people entertained and taught us life skills. These stories transported us to distant worlds which were strange yet familiar. Often the same story told by two people sounded different as storytellers added new twists and turns adding their personal style and flair to the stories.
Storytelling wasn’t limited to summer evenings and bedtime. I was surrounded by adults that didn’t pass up an opportunity to share their wisdom using the art of storytelling. The rich and vibrant oral traditions include songs, poems, stories, and సామెతలు (Sametalu are proverbs in Telugu). Men and women sing songs as they work in the fields, grind grains and spices and other daily chores at their homes. Stories are often used to teach important life lessons, interpersonal skills, and survival skills. These stories and the time spent listening to them made our lives richer leaving an impression on me. This series is all about reliving those memories as I share these stories.
బొడ్డుకు మసి రాసుకుని కూర్చున్నాడు
We all know at least one person who loves to pick a fight. I am not talking about somebody in a bad mood once in a while becoming argumentative or quarrelsome. I am talking about someone we try to avoid asking a question or even say hello. What do we do if we can’t avoid interacting with such an individual? If the person owns and runs the only store you can find in the 100 mile radius, we are just out of luck. This story is about one such belligerent and quarrelsome merchant Venkayya.
Venkayya owned the one and only general store in a village. Villagers shopped for rice, dal, and other groceries at his store. Venkayya had an unpleasant disposition and enjoyed engaging in arguments with his customers and fellow villagers. Venkayya thrived on deriving energy from arguments. He would wait for customers to walk in so he can engage in verbal jousting with them. Most of his customers knew this and avoided getting into arguments with him by not responding and engaging when he tried to start an argument. Other than an occasional stranger passing through the village, it was becoming difficult for Venkayya to find people to pick fights with.
After a particularly dry streak without any fun, Venkayya devised a very clever plan. He applied soot from his kitchen coal stove generously to his belly button. Coal or wood burning stoves were used for cooking in Venkayya’s time. The usual attire for a merchant was a తెల్ల పంచ (Tella Pancha is white Dhovathi Telugu) without a shirt during the time of this story, so everybody could see the patch of soot on Venkayya’s belly very clearly. The first unsuspecting victims were his wife and family. The day started great for Venkayya. He went to the store with great anticipation of numerous fruitful arguments.
As his customers walked in, they would either ask him the reason behind the soot on his belly or couldn’t help but stare at his belly. When people asked him about the soot, Venkayya would tell them it was none of their business why he had soot on his belly. If they stared at his belly and the soot, he asked them why they were staring at his belly and that they were being very rude. This was how Venkayya didn’t let either one of the opportunities go by picking fights all day long and went home happy and content after he closed the store.
Whenever I was quarrelsome, Nanna (father in Telugu) would say: బొడ్డుకి మసి రాసుకుని కుర్చున్నావేంటే తల్లీ? ఏమిటి సంగతి? (Bodduku Masi Rasukuni Kurchunavente Talli? Tell me what happened?”). I would invariably laugh and forget whatever was bothering me or if I were really upset, this would get me to talk about whatever was bothering me.
తల్లీ (means mother in Telugu) is an affectionate way to address daughters and younger women in the family. Adults in my family usually end a question or sentence with తల్లీ at the end when they are talking to younger women in the family.
Even to this day, when I encounter someone like Venkayya, this story brings a smile to my face and makes it so much easier to deal with unpleasant people and incidents in my life.