Once, in the murky waters of a winding river, lived a crocodile. His days were spent basking on sun-warmed rocks, jaws parted in a lazy grin. But today, hunger gnawed at his belly. He drifted along the current, eyes scanning the banks—until he spotted a monkey perched high in a jamun tree, its branches heavy with ripe, purple fruit.
“Ho, monkey!” the crocodile called, voice slick with false charm. “How lucky you are, dining on such sweetness! Would you spare a few for a starving soul?”
The monkey, though wary, plucked a handful of jamuns and tossed them down. The crocodile devoured them, the juice staining his teeth. Never had he tasted anything so rich. “My thanks!” he said, slipping back into the water.
The next day, he returned once again, and it became a routine. Soon, the monkey greeted him with ripe fruit every morning, and the crocodile lingered to chat. They spoke of monsoon rains and kingfishers, of the way the river glittered at dawn. The crocodile even gave the monkey a ride on his back for a river trip. A friendship grew—or so the monkey thought.
One morning, the monkey thought of doing an extra favour for the crocodile. The monkey piled extra jamuns into the crocodile’s claws. “For your family,” he said. “Share the sweetness, and if they ever want more, just let me know—don’t hesitate to ask.”
The crocodile brought them to his wife. She bit into a jamun, her eyes narrowing. “These are delicious,” she hissed. “Tell your monkey friend to give us more, and don’t forget to give him my regards.”
And so, every day the monkey would give extra jamuns to the crocodile for his wife, and the crocodile’s wife relished them with great joy. But one day, her carnivorous nature took over, and an evil thought occurred to her while her husband was away. She licked her jaws, a slow, hungry gleam in her eyes. “If the fruit is this sweet… what of the creature who feasts on them daily? I need to find a way to obtain his heart.” And she schemed an evil plan.
In the evening, when the crocodile returns with plenty of jamuns for his wife, he is in for a rude shock. He placed those jamuns near the mouth of his wife and said, “What is ailing you, my sweetheart? You look extremely exhausted.
The crocodile’s wife, while feigning her illness, said, “I am suffering from a rare illness unknown to the crocodile community. For my survival, there is only one cure for this strange illness.”
The crocodile, looking panicked, said, “Don’t you worry, darling. If I have to risk my life by walking on land, I will do so for my love. Just let me know what the cure is, and I will get it done.”
The crocodile’s wife, happy to trick her husband, said in a pitiful voice, “The cure for this unexpected and unwelcome illness is the heart of a monkey who eats a lot of jamuns—and your monkey friend surely consumes plenty.”
The crocodile recoiled. “But… but he’s my friend! He’s done so much for us! I can’t do that. After all, he is my best friend. There must be some other way to cure you.”
The crocodile’s wife, pretending to understand his concern for his friend, cleverly replied, “I understand your dilemma, but I would never ask for your best friend’s heart if it weren’t about my survival. Unfortunately, your monkey friend’s heart is the only cure for me.”
The crocodile said, “Please, for God’s sake, don’t make me commit such a sin. I can do anything for you except this.”
The crocodile’s wife, calm but cunning, said, “Then let me die in peace. In my memory, you can enjoy those fresh jamuns every day, given to you by your monkey friend.”
The crocodile said, “Don’t talk nonsense. I can’t let you die because I love you so much, from the bottom of my heart.”
She coiled around him, voice dripping poison. “Then prove you love me more. Bring me his heart.”
For a moment, the crocodile’s jaws tightened. But his wife’s weeping echoed in his skull.
The Betrayal
The next morning, the crocodile’s smile was too wide. “Dear friend,” he said, “my wife insists you join us for lunch. Come to my home!”
The monkey hesitated. “But I cannot swim.”
“Ride on my back!” said the crocodile.
Midway across the river, the crocodile sank low in the water. The nervous-looking monkey cautioned his friend, “Dear friend, if you submerge an inch more, I might not live to see another day—let alone the lunch your wife insisted upon.”
“Forgive me, my friend,” the crocodile muttered, “but my wife needs your heart, as it is the only way to save her from that wretched, life-threatening illness.”
Sensing danger, the monkey’s pulse raced—but his voice stayed light. The monkey, realizing the crocodile’s deception, exclaimed, “Oh, you silly friend! Why didn’t you just say so? Didn’t you know? A monkey’s heart is far too valuable to carry around all the time! Mine is safely tucked away in the branch of my jamun tree. Let’s go back, and I’ll get it for you.”
The crocodile, greedy and gullible, surged toward the shore. The moment his belly scraped the mud, the monkey vaulted onto land, his laughter sharp as thorns.
“A heartless fool is still a fool,” he called. “Can’t you see through the manipulative and scheming mind of your wife? Tell her the tastiest thing here is my wit—she can neither swallow it nor savor it! And as for our friendship… consider it OVER!” 🐊💔🐒
The crocodile slunk away, shame clinging to his scales like riverweed.
Moral: “A clever mind outwits a cruel heart—and a wise friend is worth a thousand false ones. Wit is superior to brute force.” 🐒💡
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