The Magician Grocer
Mahendrapur was a prosperous village. Near the village was situated a small Bazar. There the biggest grocery shop was owned by Jeewan. Often the customers found the stuff they bought from Jeewan's shop quite inferior. They also found that such stuff weighed less when measured by the buyers at their own homes. But if anybody complained about it, Jeewan made such a sweet and fluent speech that the complainant felt sure it would be hard to find another trader as honest as Jeewan. From time to time many people told the village chief that they had been deceived by Jeewan. He wanted to see for himself what Jeewan really did. One evening he went to Jeewan's shop. Jeewan welcomed him. "What can this humble shopkeeper do for you, sir?" he asked with hands folded. "I want some ghee," said the chief, "I hope, you can give me." "Why have I opened a shop if I can't?" asked Jeewan. He entered an ante-room and came out with three of his fingers outstretched. "Sir, Please smell my fingers dipped in three different tins, one after another, and point out to me the smell you relish most," he said. The chief smelled the fingers but could not differentiate among the smells. "I don't understand the difference," he confessed. "Never mind, sir, I understand for you! You'd like to have the ghee of the finest quality, won't you? Though that would be slightly costlier," said Jeewan sporting a genial smile.
"That's right. But do you mean to say that you have ghee of three qualities?" asked the chief. "I must be frank with you. The finest quality of ghee is meant for men of quality like you. The second quality too is very good. In fact, what other shop-keepers brand as the finest quality is not as good as my second quality. The third quality is not bad either, though a bit inferior. You know, sir, that the common people would like to have things cheap! But I do not desire to hide anything from you!" said Jeewan. The chief was so charmed by Jeewan's frank talk that he felt guilty for having suspected him! He bought the ghee of the first quality and went away. "Sir, never have I deceived anybody or adulterated the stuff I sell," was the grocer's final statement. There was some commotion at midnight. A villager spied upon a gang of burglars and raised a cry. Some people were rehearsing a play in the clubhouse. They chased the burglars. The gang fled, leaving behind them their booty: a tin of ghee, a bag of rice, a bag of pulse, and some weighing stones.
The villagers recovered the things and deposited them at the chief's house. It was found that the weighing stones weighed less and the rice and the pulse contained sand and small stones. Early in the morning Jeewan met the chief and reported that it was his shop that had been burgled. "What have you lost?" asked the chief. "A tin of ghee, a bag of rice, a bag of pulse, and my weighing stones," said Jeewan. "No doubt, we have recovered such things from the burglars. We have to be only sure that they are yours. Come on, let us go to your shop. The two reached the shop. "Where are the other two tins?" asked the chief. "Sir?" fumbled the grocer. "You stored ghee of three different qualities in three tins, isn't that so? we have found one tin. Where are the other tow?" Jeewan hemmed and hawed. He was trying to cook up an answer. "Jeewan! You must be a magician to whip out three different kinds of ghee from a single tin! Then there is the question of your weighing stones and the strange presence of sand in the rice and pulse." Jeewan stood sweating. "Look here, Jeewan, you spoke blatant lies to me yesterday that Providence decided to expose you forthwith. Wind up your business and leave the village, before the villagers decide to boycott you," said the chief. Jeewan realized that one cannot survive too long by cheating but it was already too late.
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