The Monkey and the Crocodile

On a rose-apple tree that leaned over a slow river, there lived a monkey named Raktamukha. His days were fruit, sun, and the small business of being alive.

Below him swam a crocodile, Karimukha, whose wife waited in a hole in the bank. One afternoon the monkey tossed a ripe apple into the water. The crocodile tasted it, and friendship began as hunger often does — politely.

CrocodileFriend of the tree, your fruit is sweeter than anything the river knows. If you will share it, I will tell you stories of the deep.

So it went, day after day. Apples fell. Stories rose. The monkey believed he had found a companion. The crocodile believed he had found a garden.

At home, the crocodile's wife grew thin with envy. She did not want the fruit. She wanted the heart that ate it.

WifeA creature who lives on such sweetness must have a heart like honey. Bring me that heart, or I will not eat, and I will not live.

Karimukha argued, then yielded, as husbands sometimes do when love is confused with obedience. He returned to the tree with a smile that did not fit his face.

CrocodileMy wife longs to meet you. Come sit on my back. I will carry you across. There is a feast on the other shore.

The monkey, who had never left his tree, was flattered. He climbed down. The river took them. Midway, the crocodile sank a little, then a little more.

MonkeyBrother, the water is climbing me. What feast needs a drowned guest?

CrocodileForgive me. My wife desires your heart. I am taking you to her.

Fear is loud. Wit is quieter, and faster. The monkey laughed, as if the river had told a joke.

MonkeyYou should have said so on the bank. I keep my heart in a hollow of the tree, hung up to dry. Take me back, and I will fetch it for her.

Greed makes even the cunning simple. The crocodile turned. The moment the bark was near, the monkey sprang, and the leaves closed over him like a door.

MonkeyGo home, Karimukha. Tell your wife that a heart kept in a tree is safer than a friend kept in the water. We are done.

The crocodile drifted away, heavier than when he had come. Above him the apples still fell, but never again into that mouth. So ends the tale of a friendship that was only a recipe.