Tigers for Dinner: Tall Tales by Jim Corbett's Khansama Read online

  TIGERS FOR DINNER

  Ruskin Bond has been writing for over sixty years, and

  now has over 120 titles in print—novels, collections

  of stories, poetry, essays, anthologies, and books for

  children. His first novel, The Room on the Roof, received

  the prestigious John Llewellyn Rhys Prize in 1957. He

  has also received the Padma Shri, and two awards from

  the Sahitya Akademi—one for his short stories and

  another for his writings for children. In 2012, the Delhi

  government gave him its Lifetime Achievement Award.

  Born in 1934, Ruskin Bond grew up in Jamnagar,

  Shimla, New Delhi and Dehradun. Apart from three years

  in the UK, he has spent all his life in India, and now lives

  in Mussoorie with his adopted family.

  A shy person, Ruskin says he likes being a writer

  because, ‘When I’m writing there’s nobody watching me.

  Today, it’s hard to find a profession where you’re not

  being watched!’

  Ruskin Bond has been writing for over sixty years, and

  now has over 120 titles in print—novels, collections

  of stories, poetry, essays, anthologies, and books for

  children. His first novel, The Room on the Roof, received

  the prestigious John Llewellyn Rhys Prize in 1957. He

  has also received the Padma Shri, and two awards from

  the Sahitya Akademi—one for his short stories and

  another for his writings for children. In 2012, the Delhi

  government gave him its Lifetime Achievement Award.

  Born in 1934, Ruskin Bond grew up in Jamnagar,

  Shimla, New Delhi and Dehradun. Apart from three years

  in the UK, he has spent all his life in India, and now lives

  in Mussoorie with his adopted family.

  A shy person, Ruskin says he likes being a writer

  because, ‘When I’m writing there’s nobody watching me.

  Today, it’s hard to find a profession where you’re not

  being watched!’

  Sunaina Coelho works in Mumbai as a freelance

  designer, creating animation for television and the

  Internet and illustrating for books and magazines. She

  studied animation film design at the National Institute of

  Design, Ahmedabad. She likes to draw, read, cook (and

  eat!), play with her cat, and whenever possible, travel

  and see new places.

  Published in

  RED TURTLE by Rupa Publications India Pvt. Ltd. 2013

  7/16, Ansari Road, Daryaganj

  New Delhi 110002

  Text copyright © Ruskin Bond 2013

  Illustration copyright © Rupa Publications India Pvt. Ltd. 2013

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either

  the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any

  resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is

  entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in a

  retrieval system, in any form or by any means, electronic,

  mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise,

  without the prior permission of the publisher.

  ISBN: 978-81-291-2114-1

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  Typeset in Myriad Pro 16/30

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not,

  by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise

  circulated, without the publisher’s prior consent, in any form of binding or

  cover other than that in which it is published.

  Published in

  RED TURTLE by Rupa Publications India Pvt. Ltd. 2013

  7/16, Ansari Road, Daryaganj

  New Delhi 110002

  Text copyright © Ruskin Bond 2013

  Illustration copyright © Rupa Publications India Pvt. Ltd. 2013

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either

  the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any

  resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is

  entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in a

  retrieval system, in any form or by any means, electronic,

  mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise,

  without the prior permission of the publisher.

  ISBN: 978-81-291-2114-1

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  Typeset in Myriad Pro 16/30

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not,

  by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise

  circulated, without the publisher’s prior consent, in any form of binding or

  cover other than that in which it is published.

  For my grandchildren, the adventurous five—

  Siddharth, Shrishti, Gautam, Atish and Vaishnavi.

  Have fun, stay happy!

  * Contents *

  Introduction

  1∗Jungle Cook

  2∗Exciting Encounters

  3∗‘Good Shot, Mehmoud!’

  4∗Wrestling a King Cobra

  5∗The Face Beneath the Pillow

  6∗The Tiger’s Claw

  7∗Mehmoud Retires

  8∗Mehmoud’s Sayings

  * Introduction *

  Did Mehmoud really exist, and did he really have

  these adventures? These are questions I am often

  asked.

  When I was a small boy we did have a cook called

  Mehmoud, and among his testimonials was one from

  the great Jim Corbett, praising Mehmoud’s culinary

  skills. We had no reason to doubt it was not genuine.

  As to the tales themselves, well—like all

  good storytellers, Mehmoud was given to a little

  exaggeration, so we must allow him some poetic

  licence. As his loyal fan, I swallowed everything he

  told me.

  Did Mehmoud really exist, and did he really have

  these adventures? These are questions I am often

  asked.

  When I was a small boy we did have a cook called

  Mehmoud, and among his testimonials was one from

  the great Jim Corbett, praising Mehmoud’s culinary

  skills. We had no reason to doubt it was not genuine.

  As to the tales themselves, well—like all

  good storytellers, Mehmoud was given to a little

  exaggeration, so we must allow him some poetic

  licence. As his loyal fan, I swallowed everything he

  told me.

  One of his specialities was Turtle Soup; but out

  of respect for Red Turtle, the publisher of this book,

  I am suppressing the recipe.

  Ruskin Bond

  .1.

  Jungle Cook

  My favourite stories as a child?

  Well, it would be hard to beat the

  tales—short or tall—that I heard from

  Mehmoud, who was our khansama, or
cook, when I

  was five or six years old.

  My parents didn’t tell me many stories. Mum

  was busy with her parties, and Dad with his stamp

  collection; that is, when he wasn’t in his office. I had

  the house and the grounds to myself, but there was

  My favourite stories as a child?

  Well, it would be hard to beat the

  tales—short or tall—that I heard from

  Mehmoud, who was our khansama, or cook, when I

  was five or six years old.

  My parents didn’t tell me many stories. Mum

  was busy with her parties, and Dad with his stamp

  collection; that is, when he wasn’t in his office. I had

  the house and the grounds to myself, but there was

  no one to talk to, expect the flowers. The cosmos

  were good listeners. They nodded politely when I

  spoke to them. The roses looked away; they were

  very snobbish. The marigolds were friendly enough,

  provided I didn’t pick them.

  So I would wander into the kitchen, to see what

  Mehmoud was making for lunch. And to taste the

  no one to talk to, expect the flowers. The cosmos

  were good listeners. They nodded politely when I

  spoke to them. The roses looked away; they were

  very snobbish. The marigolds were friendly enough,

  provided I didn’t pick them.

  So I would wander into the kitchen, to see what

  Mehmoud was making for lunch. And to taste the

  kofta curry or the pulao rice, just to make sure the

  taste was right. Since then, I’ve been a curry taster

  all my life.

  Mehmoud was a good cook and in many ways, my

  best friend (there being no children on the premises);

  but he was also a great storyteller.

  kofta curry or the pulao rice, just to make sure the

  taste was right. Since then, I’ve been a curry taster

  all my life.

  Mehmoud was a good cook and in many ways, my

  best friend (there being no children on the premises);

  but he was also a great storyteller.

  You see, before coming to us he’d worked for Jim

  Corbett, the great shikari, who’d shot a great number

  of man-eating tigers, apart from other dangerous

  denizens of the jungle.

  ‘Did you see him shoot a tiger?’ I asked.

  ‘Oh, many times,’ said Mehmoud. ‘A tiger a week—

  that was nothing to Carpet-sahib!’

  ‘Did the tigers come to the house, or did you go

  looking for them?’

  ‘Carpet-sahib went after them. Most of the time

  we were in the camps, and I had to do my cooking

  in the open. Not an easy job, being a jungle cook.

  Usually the salt was missing, and everyone would

  complain.’

  ‘My mother says you put too much salt in the

  food.’

  You see, before coming to us he’d worked for Jim

  Corbett, the great shikari, who’d shot a great number

  of man-eating tigers, apart from other dangerous

  denizens of the jungle.

  ‘Did you see him shoot a tiger?’ I asked.

  ‘Oh, many times,’ said Mehmoud. ‘A tiger a week—

  that was nothing to Carpet-sahib!’

  ‘Did the tigers come to the house, or did you go

  looking for them?’

  ‘Carpet-sahib went after them. Most of the time

  we were in the camps, and I had to do my cooking

  in the open. Not an easy job, being a jungle cook.

  Usually the salt was missing, and everyone would

  complain.’

  ‘My mother says you put too much salt in the

  food.’

  ‘That’s so I don’t forget it. Better a salty dish than

  a tasteless one. Don’t you agree, baba?’

  ‘And too many chillies,’ I added.

  ‘A chilli a day keeps the doctor away. That’s

  what my grandfather used to say, and he was an

  Unani—a doctor of natural medicine from the old

  Persian system. A little masala, a little turmeric—and

  you won’t need a medic! My grandfather was a wise

  man, he taught me to read and write in Urdu, but I

  never went to school—had to earn a living from a

  very young age. So I learnt to cook—it’s not a bad

  way of making a living.’

  ‘You’re not a bad cook.’

  ‘So tell your parents to increase my salary.’

  ‘Then be careful with the salt.’

  ‘You’re a salty boy. And saucy. Try one of these

  koftas. I knew you’d come, so I made an extra kofta.’

  ‘Thank you, Mehmoud. But tell me about Corbett.

  And tigers. Did you see a tiger?’

  ‘Of course I did. There were tigers all over the

  what my grandfather used to say, and he was an

  Unani—a doctor of natural medicine from the old

  Persian system. A little masala, a little turmeric—and

  you won’t need a medic! My grandfather was a wise

  man, he taught me to read and write in Urdu, but I

  never went to school—had to earn a living from a

  very young age. So I learnt to cook—it’s not a bad

  way of making a living.’

  ‘You’re not a bad cook.’

  ‘So tell your parents to increase my salary.’

  ‘Then be careful with the salt.’

  ‘You’re a salty boy. And saucy. Try one of these

  koftas. I knew you’d come, so I made an extra kofta.’

  ‘Thank you, Mehmoud. But tell me about Corbett.

  And tigers. Did you see a tiger?’

  ‘Of course I did. There were tigers all over the

  place. Bang, bang, bang! Carpet-sahib kept firing,

  and the tigers kept falling. Man-eaters, cattle-eaters,

  child-eaters. One of them took my masalchi when

  we were in camp. Took him from the tent we were

  sharing. Dragged him out by his feet and carried him

  away while he screamed. That tiger was too fast for

  Carpet-sahib. By the time the camp aroused, both

  tiger and masalchi had vanished. We found his bones

  in the morning.’

  ‘What’s a masalchi?’ I asked.

  ‘The boy who helped me. He helped me prepare

  the meat and vegetables, and washed all the dishes

  afterwards. He was a big loss. For two weeks I had

  to manage everything on my own. We couldn’t get

  another masalchi. No applications. And I had to sleep

  alone for the rest of the time we were in camp.

  place. Bang, bang, bang! Carpet-sahib kept firing,

  and the tigers kept falling. Man-eaters, cattle-eaters,

  child-eaters. One of them took my masalchi when

  we were in camp. Took him from the tent we were

  sharing. Dragged him out by his feet and carried him

  away while he screamed. That tiger was too fast for

  Carpet-sahib. By the time the camp aroused, both

  tiger and masalchi had vanished. We found his bones

  in the morning.’

  ‘What’s a masalchi?’ I asked.

  ‘The boy who helped me. He helped me prepare

  the meat and vegetables, and washed all the dishes

  afterwards. He was a big loss. For two weeks I had

  to manage everything on my own. We couldn’t get

  another masalchi. No applications. And I had to sleep

  alone for the rest of the tim
e we were in camp.

  Carpet-sahib told me to keep a fire burning outside

  my tent. Tigers stay away from fire. They don’t like

  getting burnt.’

  ‘And did it stay away?’

  ‘No, the brute came again. Stuck its head in at the

  tent opening, looking for another juicy masalchi. But

  I was ready for it. I had just been frying some eggs,

  and my frying pan was as hot as hell-fire, and with

  it I struck the tiger on its nose!’

  ‘You’re a brave man, Mehmoud. What did the

  tiger do?’

  ‘It didn’t like it. You see, tigers have very sensitive

  noses. That’s why they have such a strong sense of

  smell. Their noses lead them to their prey. But a burnt

  nose can be very painful, especially for a tiger. And I’d

  singed its whiskers too. Tigers don’t like losing their

  whiskers, just like army generals!’

  ‘So what happened?’

  ‘It let out a roar, leapt into the air, fell backwards

  into the fire, let out another roar, and fled into the

  jungle. For an hour or more we could hear it roaring

  with agony.’

  ‘You were very brave, Mehmoud. What did

  everyone say when you told them what you had

  done?’

  ‘You’re a brave man, Mehmoud. What did the

  tiger do?’

  ‘It didn’t like it. You see, tigers have very sensitive

  noses. That’s why they have such a strong sense of

  smell. Their noses lead them to their prey. But a burnt

  nose can be very painful, especially for a tiger. And I’d