Tenali Raman shifted to a house in a new neighbourhood. The house was good, but there was one problem that troubled him—the neighbourhood boys. They played games like kabaddi, gilli-danda and pitto or sitolia in the street outside and they made such a lot of noise that he found it difficult to work or to rest. He was new, so he did not wish to quarrel. How could he deal with these boys?
The next day, he had a plan ready. When the boys came to play, he went out to meet them. “Hello boys!” he greeted them, “I am a poet, Tenali Raman. I see you playing here and I am reminded of my childhood days. You must always play here. I’ll give you ten varahas every week!”
The boys looked at one another. Ten varahas! Ten gold coins – for playing! What fun! So, they played and at the end of the week Tenali Raman gave them ten varahas.
After the second week, the boys came to collect the money. Tenali Raman looked a little embarrassed and said he had only seven varahas. So, they took that and came back to play the next week. Then they came to claim their money. This time, Tenali Raman looked even more awkward.
“My master has not paid me my wages, boys. I can only give you five varahas now,” he said sadly. The boys were disappointed. But they took the money and went off.
But at the end of the fourth week, they found Tenali Raman looking miserable. “Now what, sir?” they asked. “You know, boys, I can only give you two varahas a week, not more. I am in a terrible state,” confessed Tenali Raman.
The boys were furious. This man had promised us ten varahas and now he was making a fool of us! “You promised us ten varahas a week! Now you want us to play here for a measly two varahas. No way! We won’t play here to entertain you!” said the angry boys and they stormed off.
Tenali Raman looked at the boys walking off and heaved a sigh of relief. Peace and quiet had come at last to the street. And he did not quarrel with anyone. He stretched out in his comfortable armchair on the verandah to enjoy the peace around.
