Blackie The Bull

The town was buzzing with excitement. A cycle race – a major annual event in which all the best schools of the town participated – was about to take place. Suman’s school too was to take part in the race.
Next to the school was a huge field which was also the venue for practice. Those who came to practice were usually sons from well-to-do families who would be driven to the field in style. And in such beautiful cars too! Suman marveled at the colors – red, green, blue, yellow… even silver and mauve. Just like chariots out of a fairy tale. Suman would look at his old bicycle and feel a twinge of envy. When he grew up, he resolved, he would earn a lot of money and… “Can’t you see where you are going, idiot? Looks like you have buttons for eyes!” The voice belonged to a rich man’s son who, while speeding towards him on his brand new bicycle, landed on the ground with a thud. The rich man’s son named Sunil was now shouting at the top of his voice, “Aren’t you the one who comes to practice at the field? Very well, I’ll set you right there!”
Suman gingerly touched the third finger of his right hand; the ring was still there. He’d lost his fear of being struck by bullies thanks to the ring. The bullies, on the other hand, ran for their lives on seeing him. In his heart he blessed the dwarf whose life he’d once saved.
Feeling a presence behind him, Suman turned. Directly behind him was standing a large bull. It was Blackie the Bull who was also known as the ‘madcap bull’ because of his antics. He would chase people and sometimes drive his horns into them. His favorite haunt was the Shiva temple in the heart of the city.
The madcap bull never harmed Suman though. The reasons were not far to seek: Where the townspeople would call him ‘madcap’ to his face or throw stones at him Suman would always show him respect, bring him biscuits and shower affection on him.

Blackie asked Suman, “Is there anything I can do for you?”
“No!” whispered Suman who did not wish anyone to overhear and wonder. But Sunil did overhear for he growled, “What are you mumbling, idiot? Too afraid eh?” His beautifully cut new navy blue trousers were caked in dust thanks to the fall. Blackie, who was beginning to lose his temper, advanced towards Sunil.
“No Blackie, no!” Suman yelled. Blackie stopped at once. A sudden hush fell among the onlookers. No one had been able to stop madcap Blackie before like this.
Dadi, who got to hear of the incident, asked, “I believe you pulled off a miracle today with the madcap bull?”
“Isn’t he a living being dadi, just like us?”
“Wow!” exclaimed dadi happily, “you’ve become so wise!”

Dadi had prepared a delicious meal of mango pickle and chapattis which Suman ate with relish. He then proceeded towards the field to practice. The race was to be held on the following day.
The cycle bought through dadi’s meager savings was very old yet Suman rode it like a champion. He would have won the race hands down if it were today. If only…
On his return he was surprised to see Blackie at his doorstep. Dadi was feeding him chapattis. What was Blackie doing there?
“Wait dadi,” he said, “I’ll feed him. Why don’t you go inside?”
No sooner had dadi left than Suman turned and asked, “Tell me Blackie, is everything alright?”
“It isn’t. Why else do you think I’m here?”
Blackie the bull then went on to tell Suman about the conversation he’d overheard at the bazaar. Sunil and his friends had held a meeting under the peepul tree at the heart of the bazaar. No one had paid heed to Blackie’s presence there. One of the boys was saying, “Lets go and give him a beating. He thinks too much of himself!”
“No!” said Sunil. “Lets not get into fist-fight. Don’t forget, the race takes place tomorrow. I have another idea: How about exchanging one of the tyres of his ramshackle old bicycle with a punctured one? He thinks he can win the race, hah!”

Suman left his bicycle outside. At night Sunil and his friends silently made their way to the hut to carry out their wicked plan.
At the crack of dawn the next day Suman was wheeling his bicycle outside the hut when he spotted Blackie. The friendly bull, in a bid to protect Suman from his enemies, began walking beside him. Seeing the two together, Sunil and his cronies turned away.

Suman won the race that day. Sunil and the other boys stared in jealous amazement when Suman sailed ahead of them on his brand new bicycle! How had he learnt of their plan? Had someone informed him? But who? Sunil scratched his head in frustration.

Actually Suman had left his old bicycle outside the night before while his brand new bicycle – he and dadi had pooled in their savings – had been lying hidden underneath his bed. Sunil and his friends had meddled with the wrong bicycle!
The race being a prestigious event of the town, Suman’s prize was awarded by the town’s mayor. Dadi said on his return that day, “I knew you would win!” Suman silently thanked Blackie the Bull.

Billoo

Billoo was one lazy cat. If there was one thing in the world he did well it was sleeping. He slept all day long in front of the grocer’s – Shyam Lala’s – shop. Suman, on his way to school – and back – would stop by to give the lazy cat a pat. Billoo would open his eyes once, look up, then go back to sleep.
No one knew where Billoo had landed from. Suman had learned that he’d been somebody’s pet a long time ago. But that was all Suman got out of him.
Needless to say, Veeru and his gang of bullies made no end of fun of Suman who could follow the language animals spoke. But the bullies were cowards too. Afraid of Suman’s “ticklish” powers, they would pass snide remarks from afar and flee for their lives.
Then Sheru had a brainwave.
“Lets tease the fat cat,” he told his cronies, “it will make Suman mad, won’t it? That idiot appears to be crazy about animals, yuck!”
The plan was this: pebbles and rocks would be rained on poor Billoo from a safe distance. Billoo’s pain and the inability to punish his offenders would drive Suman to tears.
“Sounds great!” Veeru thumped his brother’s back.
The bullies lost no time locating their victim.

The day was sunny. Under the mango tree, next to the Lala’s grocery, lay Billo in deep sleep with his head beween his two front paws.
“Get up lazybones!” Lagan struck the first stone. Billoo woke up, his sleep rudely broken.
“The lazy good-for-nothing cat doesn’t even know how to run!” Lagan threw a stone narrowly missing Billoo’s tail.
A crowd had collected. And worse. It was encouraging the bullies.
A fat man in pyjamas whose string was hanging loose, yelled, “All he does is eat all day; doesn’t move a step!” The fat man looked so comical that the crowd couldn’t help laughing.
And where were the three bullies? They had fled after stoning Billoo and watching the scene from a safe distance.
“Run Billoo, run!” The crowd turned in the direction of the voice. It was Suman’s.
“I can’t, you know that!” Billoo sounded tearful.
“Shut up! Just spring to that tree next to you.”
“I can’t spring anymore!”

The crowd, which could only hear Suman’s part of the conversation, was mystified. Some thought he’d gone mad. “Look at him,” laughed the comical man in pyjamas, “he’s talking to the cat as though to a friend!”
“The boy’s gone round the bend!” another commented.
Suman wasn’t paying attention to the banter around him. He was simply worried about Billoo being attacked once again by the cowards from their hiding places. Without a second thought, he rubbed the ring. Lo and behold! Billoo landed on a branch of the mango tree. The crowd was shocked into silence. Shyam Lala emerged from the grocery and watched as Billoo shook his tail from the tree top.
Now there was no stopping Billoo. Landing on the ground he ran in search of the bullies.
His first target was Lagan who was having chaat at a sweetshop. He landed chaat and all on the ground as Billoo tackled his knees with full force. Veeru and Sheru, who’d watched the commotion, picked up a stone each. But they were no match for Billoo who knocked them down as well. The cat had turned into a lion. The bullies fled, leaving their chaat behind.
“Say sorry to Billoo!” Suman was shouting. “You ought to be ashamed of yourselves, harming a poor defenseless cat!”
“Say sorry! Say sorry!” the crowd was chanting. The tide had turned for Billoo.
The crowd forced the three offenders to apologize to the cat. And Billoo? He actually thought he was the cat’s whiskers! At least now no one would say he was a lazy good-for-nothing cat.