An original rhythmic text to the classic Panchatantra story from the first book “Loss of Friends”, written by our student Tanvi Dash.

Tanvi is 13 years old young writer from Hyderabad. Dancing is her passion. We are proud to have her as a student of the Little Writers Program, an Online Creative Writing Program using Applied Storytelling & Applied Theatre tools under the mentorship of Trainer Khusshbo Chokhaani. We congratulate Tanvi for this exemplary true self-expression.

The Bug and The Poor Flea

 This occurred, ‘a donkey’s years ago’,

The exact date, even I don’t know.

From Panchatantra is this a tale,

‘Loss Of Friends’, the book we all hail.

There was Mandavisarpini,

A little white flea,

And a cunning bug,

He didn’t deserve a hug.

There was also a king,

A very pulp and round thing.

A very messy man with a stout,

Never checked his bed out!

It all happened in the king’s bedroom,

And finally resulted in the flea’s doom.

The story is unlike your grandmother’s.

The ending is not like the others.

It was all happy in the beginning,

But deception in the ending.

Here the story begins,

Where the flea is all grins.

Mandavisarpini was never found,

By the great king who weighed 200 pounds.

But, the king’s greatness doesn’t matter,

To a flea who cares only about the platter.

After sucking the king’s blood every night,

She would go out of sight!

It was her Home-Sweet-Home.

She would live there happily, alone.

One day, she received a guest,

But she welcomed him with no jest.

As soon as the bug entered the room,

She warned him that he will be doomed.

“What are you doing in here?

Leave, or the consequences will be severe.”

She said this clearly and firm,

But treated him like a worm.

The bug decided not to leave.

“It isn’t how a guest you receive.”

“Even if I were good-for-nothing”, said the bug,

“You must humbly give me a hug.”

“Many types of blood I have tasted,

But without the king’s blood, life is wasted.”

That was what the bug thought,

And the flea’s permission he sought.

This explanation,

Had the following reason:

Kings eat food that is choicest,

So, their blood must be the sweetest.

However, they had one issue.

I bet you have guessed it too!

The bug had a nasty bite,

And to the king, it won’t be a delight.

One tiny mistake,

And both lives are at stake.

On the king’s blood, the flea feed,

Only when he is in deep sleep.

But the bug was very stubborn.

He would do it even if he had a sunburn.

So, she made the bug promise the same.

But for the bug, it was very lame.

“On his blood, you will only feed,

When he is fast asleep.”

The bug quickly agreed,

Due to the blood’s greed.

Finally, night came,

Along with the bug’s aim.

The king entered the room,

In his bedtime costume.

He set his crown aside,

And looked at it with pride.

Then he lay on the bed,

With the pillow under his head.

Oh, how tasty the plump king looked!

At his sight, the bug was hooked.

Temptation, the bug couldn’t fight

And decided to take a tiny bite.

The king was yet to fall asleep,

But instead, he had to leap.

There went the nasty sting,

And here came the shouting king!

He immediately ordered his servant,

“Hey, you! Search up the miscreant.”

Hearing this, immediately the bug went,

And hid in the corner of the bed.

He was safe in his hideout,

While the flea cried out.

Sheet by sheet the servants searched,

And found the flea in them, perched.

Without knowing if it was right,

She was killed at first sight.

The bed was all clear,

And the king’s sleep was here.

So he dreamed sweet dreams,

Without any worries.

The king’s blood, the bug tasted,

His life wasn’t anymore wasted.

He lived happily ever after.

He had the king from hereafter!

The poor flea, however,

It wasn’t a pleasure.

She looked down from heaven,

While the bug was ‘on cloud nine’.

That is why we reread this tale,

From Panchatantra, we all hail.

That is why the wise indeed say,

And I repeat it today:

False promises have no value

For it the only person who’ll pay is you.

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