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The Court Jester and the Hilsa Fish

By Swapna Dutta; Illustrations by Sudheer Nath

Maharaja Krishna Chandra was the king of Bengal during the middle ages. It was customary for kings in those days to patronise talented people. So every king had his own court poets, artists, singers, town planners, architects and what have you. And plenty of ministers to advise him on different matters.

Gopal was the maharaja's favourite jester. A barber by profession, he had a razor-sharp wit and could make the best of any situation. He was bright and clever and had a tremendous presence of mind. But what was most important, he had a kind heart as well. He was always ready to help anyone, not just the king...

The rains had just set in. It was the season for fish - all kinds of fish,specially the hilsa, a delicacy in Bengal. Everybody bought them, cookedthem, ate them and discussed them.

"Hilsa, hilsa and hilsa! I'm really tired of all this fishy talk," criedMaharaja Krishna Chandra, "No matter where I go or who I meet, everyone isperpetually talking of fish!"

"But isn't that only natural, your majesty?" asked Gopal with a laugh, "thisis the hilsa season, So people keep talking about it."

"I find the topic tiring," said the maharaja, "Can't you do something tostop people from babbling about hilsa ?"

"But Sire, I'm not clever enough to change human nature," said Gopal, "Icould manage it for a day, perhaps."

"Very well. Stop people from mentioning the word hilsa for a single morningand I'll give you a reward."

"Done!" said Gopal jubilantly, "No one is going to mention hilsa tomorrow -or any fish, for that matter."

But when the maharaja arrived in court the next morning there was no Gopalto be seen. He frowned.

Now all the fishy talk would begin the moment hegave his subjects leave to talk. Gopal ought to have been present to keephis word. The maharaja felt really annoyed.

But before he could sit down there was a minor sensation. A fat, hefty womanwith long hairy arms and big feet ambled into the court in a bright redsari, her head covered with her 'pallu'.

She swayed like a dancer, her ankle-bells making queer tinkling sounds.

Everyone stared at her and whispered among themselves.

"Who on earth can this strange creature be?"

"It isn't anyone we know."

"No one in our village is brazen enough to dress up like this and walk in asbold as brass!"

"Perhaps the Nawab from the adjacent kingdom has sent her."

"Perhaps the maharaja had sent for a new dancing girl"

"A dancing girl! She is as fat as a tub!"

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