The Thief

Long ago in the city of Brindavan, there lived a thief called Mathura. He was proud of his profession because his ancestors had excelled in it. But he was sad because he had no son to carry on the traditional life. After some time, he adopted his nephew Krishna, who was a bright lad and proved an adept pupil of his uncle.

Daily, the two of them went on their thieving rounds and achieved considerable success in their efforts. One day, they decided to rob the house of the local mayor, who was the richest person in the city.

Now, this mayor and his wife were great devotees of Lord Krishna, the chief deity of Brindavan. They prayed every day, as they were a childless couple and believed that their devotion to God would bless them with a son.

On the night Mathura and Krishna had chosen to rob the house, the mayor had gone out to discuss matters of importance with the village elders. Obviously, he would return home late in the night, and this suited the two thieves very well. They hid in the backyard of his house and bided their time.

But Krishna felt very hungry and informed his uncle that he would steal only if he had a morsel of food. So Mathura said, “Right you are. Go into the pantry and grab what food you can. I’ll go upstairs and take what jewels there are. Then we shall meet at the base of the tamarind tree.”

Accordingly, Krishna stole into the house noiselessly and made a beeline for the pantry. There, he saw round sweet cakes and a jar full of milk which the mayor’s wife had prepared for her husband. The little lad fell upon the food like a famished wolf and in no time had polished off every crumb. In the next room, the mayor’s wife snored on noisily, unaware of what was taking place in the pantry.

As Krishna licked his fingers and smacked his lips after drinking the jar of milk, there was a loud knocking on the door. The mayor had returned! Quickly, Krishna wiped his fingers and sought for a means of escape. But there was none, so he hurriedly clambered up the loft in the pantry and hid himself.

The mayor entered and told his wife he was ravenously hungry. So she went into the pantry, and the next moment, an anguished shriek rent the air. The mayor dashed into the pantry and saw his wife standing in the middle of the room, wringing her hands in despair.

As soon as she saw him, she said, “All the sweet cakes that I had prepared for you are missing. Even the milk I kept for you is gone. Oh! What shall I do?”

The mayor rebuked her angrily and said, “That’s a tall story alright. You were hungry and so you ate up all the food.”

His wife protested and said between tears, “Please don’t blame me like that. I swear to you that I would never do a thing like that. You know I always eat after you’ve finished. Today, I must have slept more than usual, and perhaps our Lord Krishna came and ate up everything.” The husband pooh-poohed such nonsense and declared it was a load of rubbish to suggest that the God of Brindavan had come to their dwelling and feasted himself upon the sweet cakes. Clearly, his wife was lying, and he knew how to treat such liars. So he took up a thick cudgel and prepared to belabor her with it.

Krishna in the loft could not bear to see a good woman treated thus, so he jumped in front of the quarrelling couple. “Look here, man,” he said, “Why do you beat your wife? It was I who polished off your cakes and jar of milk. Drop your stick.” Then he ran off as fast as he could.

The mayor was so startled at this sudden apparition that he shook like a man stricken by ague. Meanwhile, Mathura, who was tired of waiting for Krishna, called out loudly, “Hey, Krishna, boy, here, Krishna.” At the same time, Krishna, shouting loudly that he was coming, dashed out through the open door. Then the two of them vanished into the darkness.

The mayor’s wife recovered her wits first and shouted at her husband, “Why do you stand and gape so? Can’t you see we’ve had a thief here. Go and catch him.” The mayor shook his head and, swinging his cudgel, ran out into the street, shouting, “Thief, thief.” But Mathura and Krishna were far from the scene of their crime. When Krishna recited the incident of the sweet cakes, Mathura laughed long and loud and said his nephew was a clever scoundrel indeed.

As for the mayor, he returned home an angry man, and his wife had to cook a meal for him all over again because Krishna had eaten up all the food.