Leave It to Tenali!

A retelling of Tenali Rama

Classic tales
5 min read
Ages 6–8

A girl sits on the floor while Tenali waves and the King watches from his throne in a stone palace.

"Tenali Raman!" boomed the King. "This year, you are in charge of Diwali." Tenali bowed so low his turban nearly kissed his toes. He would make a festival so bright that the moon would have to squint. "Leave it to me!" Old Ranga the gardener raised a muddy finger. "Sir, lamps glow best on the river st—" "Leave it to me! Every clay lamp goes into ONE tall tower, by the cushions." Ranga's granddaughter Gowri looked up from her rice flour. "Sir, the rangoli dots go f—" "Leave it to me!" sang Tenali, striding off to the kitchen. Behind him, two sentences dangled in the air like washing with no pegs.

Tenali and Kamalamma stand in a kitchen filled with orange sweets.

In the kitchen, Kamalamma the head cook was rolling snowy coconut barfi. "Orange is the brightest colour," Tenali announced. "Every sweet must be orange!" "But sir, the queen loves white—" Can you guess what Tenali said? Of course you can. "Leave it to me!" By sunset there were one thousand orange laddoos, piled in wobbly hills on every tray, every shelf and one very surprised stool. "Who will eat them all?" asked the youngest cook. Tenali's moustache gave one small twitch of worry. Then he straightened his turban. "Leave it to me! Load them onto the elephant cart!"

Tenali and Basava stand in a courtyard with Mallige the elephant and a cart of fruit.

Basava the elephant keeper loaded his cart, and Mallige the elephant pulled it to the courtyard gate. CRUNCH. The cart stuck tight between the gateposts. Mallige blinked and calmly ate a banana. "Sir," called Basava, "the cart is wider than the g—" "Leave it to—" Wibble. The unlit lamp tower was swaying. Wobble. "Stand back!" cried Tenali. Everyone stepped well away. The tower leaned… and leaned… and slid, very gently, onto the cushions. FLUMPH! Feathers burst up like snow. Not one lamp cracked, but one little empty lamp rolled down the heap and landed on Tenali's turban. Plip. "The cleverest man in the kingdom," said Tenali, "has built the comfiest lamp tower in the world." Gowri giggled first, and Tenali laughed with her. Even Mallige trumpeted. Then Tenali lifted the lamp off his head and took a deep breath.

Tenali hands an orange sweet to another man in an ornate stone courtyard.

Tenali clapped, and everyone gathered round. His ears burned pink. "I made a mistake," he said. "I said 'Leave it to me' so fast that nobody finished a sentence. Please finish them now." "Unload the cart," said Basava, "and Mallige can walk through." So Tenali joined the line, and laddoos went hand to hand, hand to hand, until the cart was light enough for Basava to lead Mallige through. "Lamps glow twice on the river steps," said Ranga. "Once in the air, once in the water." Tenali grabbed a basket of lamps. "White barfi for the queen," said Kamalamma. Tenali rolled barfi beside her until coconut snowed on his moustache. "Dots first," said Gowri, "then join them." "And a thousand laddoos?" asked Tenali. They decided together: one for every guard, gardener and child in the city!

Gowri, Tenali, and the King stand together on stone steps by a river at night.

That night, the grown-ups lit the lamps along the river steps. From the top step, Gowri held Tenali's hand. Every little flame wore a twin in the dark water. Beside them bloomed her rangoli, its dots joined into a lotus. The King gave a big, booming laugh. "Ranga's river, Kamalamma's sweets, Basava's gate, Gowri's dots! Whose Diwali is this, Tenali?" Before he could answer, Gowri did. "Everyone's!" "Then next year," said the King, "shall I leave it all to you?" Tenali looked at his helpers and winked. "Leave it to US!" they shouted together.