Telugu Folk Tale – The Shepherd’s Ghost – {Ep.249}

Today’s episode is a folk tale from Andhra Pradesh and Telangana. This Telugu Folk Tale is about a simple-minded Shepherd who gets into one ghostly misadventure after another, all because he had his future predicted.

Welcome to “Stories From India”. This is a podcast that will take you on a journey through the rich mythology, folklore and history of the Indian subcontinent. I am Narada Muni, the celestial storyteller and the original “time lord”. With my ability to travel through space and time, I can bring you fascinating stories from the past, the present, and the future. From the epic tales of the Mahabharata and Ramayana to the folktales of the Panchatantra to stories of Akbar-Birbal and Tenali Raman, I have a story for every occasion.

The purpose of the stories is neither to pass judgment nor to indoctrinate. My goal is only to share these stories with people who may not have heard them before and to make them more entertaining for those who have.

Today’s Story

In this episode, we’re doing a Telugu Folk Tale. This is well known in many parts of both Andhra Pradesh and Telangana, but also in neighboring states. Let’s dive right in. 

The story begins a few centuries ago in some village. And it starts with a shepherd. Let’s call him Gorella Kaapari.

Gorella Kaapari was out with his sheep, and he was in the market for a new hook. In a figurative market, not a literal one. Everyone knows you can’t take all your sheep to a real market. Easy to lose track of them.

Anyway, back to Gorella Kaapari’s need for a new hook. You know the type of shepherd’s hook that you probably have seen in illustrations of Little Bo Peep? Well Gorella Kaapari had just such a hook and it had broken. A Shepherd without a hook was like a wizard without a wand. What if, like Little Bo Peep, he lost his sheep and didn’t know where to find them? He couldn’t very well leave them alone and let them come home wagging their tails behind them. If he had homing pigeons maybe. But these weren’t homing pigeons, they were sheep. And though Gorella Kaapari wasn’t very smart, he knew he needed a hook to nudge his sheep to stay on track, to prod them, and possibly even use the hook to defend himself and his sheep from wild animals.

He couldn’t simply order a new hook. He had to make it. So, Gorella Kaapari climbed a tree, sat on a branch and began to cut it with his little pocketknife.

Just then an elderly gentleman from the village was passing by, and observing the scene, panicked.”Gorella Kaapari! What are you doing, dude?” 

But the Shepherd didn’t see what was so wrong. Was this his precious tree?

The elderly gentleman pointed out that Gorella Kaapari was sitting on the branch that he was cutting. That by itself wasn’t wrong. But he should not try to make the cut between where was sitting and the trunk of the tree. Didn’t the shepherd realize that when the branch came down, he would too?

No Gorella Kaapri didn’t understand. This was all so confusing for him. It took a little bit of convincing but the shepherd finally followed the Sage’s advice. He stood on a nearby branch, placed his turban where he had been sitting, and then cut that branch. When the branch came crashing down, turban and all – that’s when the shepherd realized that could have been him. Except his fate would be a lot worse than the turban which only gently floated to the ground.

“Master!” he cried and fell at the elder’s feet. “You saved my life”

The elder blushed. “That’s alright, you know. Just doing my civic duty”

“Master, you knew what was going to happen! You can predict the future. Unlock the secrets of my future for me”

“I say now, my dear old shepherd, you’re getting the wrong end of the stick here.”

But Gorella Kaapari was insistent. He wanted to know when he would die. A person who could predict the future should be able to do that right away. It would take just a few seconds to tell him, hardly any delay to whatever appointments the sage claimed to be late for. This was literally a matter of life and death for him.

The sage was exasperated. The shepherd wasn’t letting go. And unless he gave some answer he might never let go. Finally he said “Check the length of your nose. When it gets shorter, that’s a signal that you’re going to pass away.” With that remark, he was finally able to pull himself free and to rush away from the scene, before the simple-minded Shepherd got any more ideas.

Gorella Kaapri went home enlightened. For a while. But that very evening, anxiety set in. What if his nose had gotten shorter? It felt like it might have. He needed to check. He stayed up late, repeatedly measuring the length of his nose. That was a hard job given rulers and tape measures didn’t exist yet.

His wife, Bhaarya, noticed and asked “What are you doing? It’s way pasture bedtime”

But Gorella Kaapri was blue and wouldn’t share what was bothering him. He stayed blue despite Bhaarya’s attempt to cheer him up by singing songs by Lady Baa Baa and Ed Shearen. As you can imagine, those two were the absolute favorites in any Shepherd’s home. But it didn’t work. Gorella Kaapri was worried that his nose was getting shorter.

The next morning was no better. Bhaarya was reminding him that some of the sheep were overdue for shearing, and he needed to take them to the BaaBaa shop. And to bring back at least 10 kgs of wool. They had orders from the Kangaroo owner in Australia who wanted a wooly jumper for his pet, and the one from the Mexican farmer who wanted a fleece that said Fleece Navidad.

But the Shepherd didn’t seem to hear any of that. Bhaarya sighed, if she needed something done, she would have to do it herself. She left but she did make him promise to do the household chores instead.

Well, Gorella Kaapari did not do the household chores. He measured his nose again. And on one such measurement, he observed that his nose was a hair’s breadth shorter than the last time. Surprisingly, his anxiety evolved into acceptance of his fate. 

He wrote up his last wool and testament on some stamp paper that he had casually lying around. 

His job done, he lay on the floor, tongue hanging out, eyes open and staring at the ceiling, a lily on his chest for extra effect. He was waiting for Yama, the God of death, to come and collect him.

Bhaarya came back before Yama that evening.

She screamed the moment she entered, because none of the household chores were done. And then when she saw her husband and screamed a second time. All the while Gorella Kaapari kept waiting patiently, not moving at all. He thought to himself that he probably wouldn’t be able to move considering he was already dead. So he kept still through the obligatory processes. His wife smashing her bangles open, on his chest. His neighbors offering their condolences only to offer to take some of the sheep off Bhaarya’s hands. His rival shepherd even offered to take Gorella Kaapari’s prized two-wheeler. The slimy vultures, Gorella Kaapri thought. But he stayed silent even though it pained him to part with his Lambhorgini of a wheelbarrow, even more than it had pained him when his wife smashed her bangles on his chest.

He stayed silent all the way to the crematorium. The cotton they stuffed in his nose was itchy and he thought he might sneeze. But somehow he held on. Didn’t want to spoil himself for Yama. It was only when they had placed him on the funeral pyre and were about to light it when he got up and said. “Not yet, Yama is not here yet”

Imagine everyone’s shock. It didn’t take much to make people scream and run away in those days of superstition. And a corpse waking up in the middle of the cremation was much. He was left alone. It took, what was for Gorella Kaapari a few leaps of the imagination to conclude that he wasn’t yet dead actually. Well, for one thing, that cotton stuffed up his nose was itchy and was preventing him from breathing properly. For another, he was very hungry, and thirsty. All those things shouldn’t happen if he was truly dead. So he must have made a mistake.

He walked home. And quickly, because he was cold. The crematorium officials had followed procedure and deprived him of things he couldn’t take to the afterlife, including his clothes.

He banged on his door, but Bhaarya was scared to open. She didn’t want to let the Ghost in. She didn’t stop to wonder why the Ghost wasn’t simply floating in through the walls. Maybe being a new ghost, Gorella Kaapari was getting used to his ghostliness, and hadn’t mastered that art yet.

The Shepherd tried a few more of his neighbors. No one opened their doors to him.

He had expected to receive cheers from everyone for being alive, instead all he got were boos. Ironically those same people thought they were on the receiving end of boos from this ghost. None of them believed his lies about all this being a big misunderstanding, they could see right through him.

Gorella Kaapari was dejected and he decided to try his luck again the next day. He needed a place to rest though, so he went to the temple. 

The priest was hesitant to open his door this morning. The level of haunting he had seen last night from the Shepherd’s incessant knocking was disturbing. He needed to meditate in the one place where he knew he would find all the answers. So he prepared an elaborate meal to offer to the Gods and Goddesses, and took it with him to the temple. The rude shock he got upon seeing the Shepherd’s ghost in the temple was only exceeded by the Ghost saying “There you are, finally. I feel like I have been waiting ages for you”. The priest dropped the meal and ran away. 

Miles away, he paused for breath. He didn’t think such a thing could happen. After all, he had watched lots of horror movies and if there’s one thing he had learned – demons, poltergeists, creatures of the night could not enter a holy place. And yet, that’s what had happened here. 

The problem must be in his own devotion. So he decided to go on a pilgrimage to cleanse his soul.

But at least Gorella Kaapari’s hunger problem was solved. He still needed clothes. It was daytime, but it was a bit cloudy and he was still feeling cold. He decided to go down to the river. That’s where the washerman often left his clients’ clothes.

Meanwhile, back in the village, a policeman had arrived. If there was anyone who could calm these villagers, it was this chap. He was 7 feet tall and built like an Ox. And he had the kind of bushy eyebrows that made evildoers think twice before doing anything wrong. And it was natural to suppose he might have that kind of effect on ghostly criminals as well.

He sought out the Sarpanch, or the chief of the village. “What’s all this about a Shepherd’s ghost, eh?” the policeman asked. He had herd it through the grapevine that the Villagers were scared of a silly old ghost. He was here to investigate, and shepherd, or shepherd’s ghost, this was a person-of-keen-interest, who would soon find himself behind Baahs.
The Sarpanch said that the last known report was that the ghost was at the riverside, he had been seen lurking around the washerman’s clothes drying shed.

So the policeman forced the terrified washerman to lead him to the shed. The Dhobi, as washermen are known, didn’t want to. But there wasn’t a choice. He was scared of the Policeman too. He may have been more terrified of the ghost, but the policeman was here and now. Besides, the ghost might wander away by the time they got there.

When the Dhobhi got there, there was indeed no one there. He cautiously approached the shed, and still there was no one. The shed was empty save for his usual laundry baskets of the extra extra large variety. He sighed with relief.

And that’s when an ominous voice called out behind him. Turning around he saw a dark figure rise out of the “Such a chill in the air today. It’s like the cold embrace of death”. Gorella Kaapari should have chosen his words more wisely. Or at least not dozed in the laundry basket and scared the Dhobi out of his wits. And not just the Dhobi, the policeman who had been just outside the door – he was scared too! Yeah, big 7 foot, 300 pound giant scared of a harmless remark. Within seconds, both the Dhobhi and the Policeman were out of the scene. The policeman deciding that he’d immediately write to his superiors accepting the posting in the big city, tackling the criminal gangs there. He needed something less dangerous than this posting in the village.

There was only a ghost of a chance, but Gorella Kaapari decided to give it another shot with his wife. And for reasons completely unknown and unexplained, Bhaarya heard him this time and realized that he was telling the truth. She let him in, helped him clean up and prepared him to get back to his routine the next day.

“All’s wool that ends wool, eh?” he asked her

She paused for a long time. The village had just lost its policeman, its priest, its washerman, and the rest of the village was either refusing to get out of their homes. Or even if they did they wouldn’t dare approach the Shepherd’s “haunted” home. They had lost half their sheep, her bangles were all smashed, they were being sued by the Australian and Mexican farmers who hadn’t received their orders, and to top it all, their Lamborghini – their prized wheelbarrow was gone as well. So, the answer was no, all was definitely not well. He couldn’t pull wool over her eyes. But things might get better with time and effort, lots and lots of effort from him. He could get off of ewetube for a start and take the sheep out to graze.

That’s all for now

Some notes on the show

Bhaarya is the Telugu word for wife. Gorella Kaapri means Shepherd in Telugu. You can see we’re keeping the tradition on this show of naming the characters after the roles they play.

The bit about cutting down a branch while sitting on it is something that’s also part of Kalidasa’s story. I hope to cover his story eventually.

That’s all for now. 

Next Time

In the next episode, we’ll do a story from the Panchatantra. It’s an extraordinary story about a little mouse who turns human, and when it becomes time for her to choose her husband, she seeks nothing short of the truly exceptional. 

Feedback

Thank you all for the comments on Social Media and on Spotify’s Q&A! I can’t directly reply to the questions there, but I’ll address them here on this show.

Raj Banga, thank you for your generous comments.

I’ve noted your request to do a story of me, Vishnu and Brahma altogether. There’s one story featuring us – Episode 80 – A beauty contest that I had judged.

Abeer and Remind Me also asked for a story about Brahma so expect a Brahma story soon.

Vishruth, I have to ask. Next time I’m visiting my dad’s home, I’ll find out. I know Brahma is a regular reader of the newsletters that his own fan club turns out, so I’ll just look it up in the next edition.

Jenn, Moshroom, thank you for the support.

Kaira – yes Kanakalata’s sacrifice is heartbreaking. Sadly far too many lives were lost in our fight for independence.

I briefly mentioned what the Nagapasha did to Ram and Lakshman when Indrajit launched it at them. But I think to do it justice, I have to explain this in a separate episode. There’s a whole backstory to this incredible weapon, which at one point used to be a snake! I’ve added this to my backlog.

Remind me – to answer your question yes – absolutely, I am Narada. I have been saying that in all of my 270 episodes haven’t I?

Shalu – thank you for your thoughtful feedback, as always!

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The music is from Purple Planet.

Thanks for listening and I’ll see you next time!