The Brinjal And The Little Girl
That day the little Brinjal was feeling very upset. Why upset he was about to explode. He was almost jumping right and left out of anger. The Brinjal brethren mocked at him- he was most unbrinjal like. From any angle, he hardly looked like brinjal. Did he resemble a pumpkin? Or a ladyfinger? Or even a potato? No, no, not at all. But you won’t believe it -he changed colors! Whenever he encountered an adult pumpkin tall and fat, he used to shiver out of fear. Well, he was just a child and it was but natural for any child brinjal to be frightened of an adult menacing pumpkin. But what was not very natural was that when frightened he literally turned white from purple. Sometimes red, sometimes green, sometimes black, and sometimes a wild mixture of seven colors!
So the little Brinjal was a riddle- an odd- brinjal-out from his lot. So insensitive was the brinjal community that it looked down upon him and mocked him awarding a very dirty adjective- the chameleon. And that day the little Brinjal was about to explode out of helpless anger and was fast-changing colors. A gang of naughty brinjal lads had just passed by singing loudly ‘the chameleon mixed with a brinjal, and the brinjal lost his purple…’ And then a roar of laughter followed. The ribald laughter entered into every fiber of the little Brinjal and tears rolled down his shining and slippery cheeks. He was a deserted lonely little Brinjal.
Now let’s move to the other side of the scene. A locality of the humans. This place was on the outskirts. After that the path was to the jungle Annabelle, the little nine-year-old, lived there with her loving parents. They called her Anna. Anna was a magically gifted child. She could understand the language of animals, birds, and plants. Unbelievable. But no, she never shared it with anyone. It was a secret. Once, when she was just five years old, she tried to share it with her Mom and Dad but first, they ignored taking it as her childhood fancy, and the second time they were so worried that Anna thought to keep her peculiar translating skill as classified. But unnoticed she used to talk with the rose, lily, tulip, and other flowers in the flower pots.
Sometimes she used to slip to the forest, well not very deep. And there the small animals- the squirrel, the rabbit and others and even the birds made a merry time talking and singing with her.
Jumping and frolicking on the green grass Anna was returning happily that suddenly her eyes met those of the sad, weeping little Brinjal, sitting at a corner. She took him in her hand and asked, “My little Brinjal, why are you so sad. You are simply wasting your pearls.” And she wiped off his tears. Brinjal felt the warmth of her palm. Anna put Brinjal down.
“I’m definitely sad because I’m an outcast,” Brinjal said.
“Oh, but why are you an outcast?”
“Because I change colors. They mockingly call me a chameleon. They hate me.”
“Interesting. But how do you change colors?”
“I don’t know. It comes instinctively.”
“Don’t lose heart. I’ll try to help you out of the embarrassing situation. I meet you tomorrow, at the same point, and at the same time.”
They parted. The little Anna sitting on her chair and putting her forefinger on her lips was deep in thought. Was it a curse on him? If a curse, how was it going to be lifted? She talked with all the flowers in the pots, the little rat, the parrot, the squirrel, who was a regular visitor to her house, the purring brown cat but none could answer. Unlike Anna and Brinjal, they were simple beings without any special gift. A little bit tired, Anna went to bed early. (written by Sanjay Kumar Kundan)