Caterpillar Who Went On A Diet And Other Stories

Ranjit Lal

Description

A hilarious glimpse of the complex lives of insects These fourteen scintillating stories are marked by Ranjit Lal's usual combination of meticulous research, rollicking storytelling and fascinating characters. Nimbu, the caterpillar, resolves to go on a diet inspired by the stick insect. Cheeni Chor, the ant, discovers a refrigerator stuffed with goodies and is driven to rebellion. Ladoo Gulabjamun, one of the resident cockroaches of the famous Golden Thali Restaurant, decides to take on the management to impress his ladylove. You will also meet the body-building cricket, the dung beetles who like to party and a host of other insects who reveal their inner lives as never before and are true to both the insect and human world. Lal's mastery of the world of birds and beasts, as captured in Crow Chronicles and The Life and Times of Altu Faltu, also extends to the world of insects, and this is perhaps his most enchanting and comical book to date. Rahul Dutta's unusual and striking illustrations capture the magic of worlds Lal reveals.

Informations

• Publié par: Penguin Books Ltd
• Date de parution: 06 avril 2004
• Nombre de lectures: 1
• EAN13: 9789351181507
• Langue: English

Extrait

RANJIT LAL
The Caterpillar
Who Went on a Diet and Other Storiesr

Illustrations by Rahul Dutta
PUFFIN BOOKS
Contents
About the Author
THE CATERPILLAR WHO WENT ON A DIET
CHEENI CHOR S SECRET SWEET DISH
THE GREAT COCKROACH CAPER
MS BEAUTIFUL MOTH 2004 AD
DUNG BEETLE DHAMAKA
IF THERE IS A PARADISE
THUNDER THIGHS LAST LEAP
SAVING THE PRINCE OF DARKNESS
WHEN LITTLE BOYS FALL FOR BIG GIRLS
THE ACE OF DRAGONS
THE BUTTERFLY WITH TWO HEADS
AMBROSIA S DEADLY WAGGLE DANCE
KISS OF THE SPIDER WASP
HAVE YOU WASHED YOUR HANDS ?
Copyright Page
PUFFIN BOOKS
THE CATERPILLAR WHO WENT ON A DIET AND OTHER STORIES
Ranjit Lal has written fiction and non-fiction for both adults and children. His books include The Crow Chronicles, The Life and Times of Altu Faltu, That Summer at Kalagarh, The Bossman Adventures and Bossman and the Thrown Away Family .
The Caterpillar Who Went on a Diet

Get off me, fatso!
Nimbu, the green lime caterpillar, reared up in alarm. She had been making her way towards the eastern side of the Chinese orange plant (in the hope that the leaves there would be more flavourful and vitamin-enriched since they received the morning sun) when she was startled by this malevolent hiss. It seemed to come from her feet and claspers.
Are you deaf? Get off me, fatso!
Suddenly, she saw two beady little eyes glaring coldly at her, from just ahead. Before she could move, the slim green twig she was on gave way and she was falling, falling
Luckily, the ground was freshly watered and therefore soft, and Nimbu was only winded by her fall. Instinctively, she curled herself up into a tight circle and waited.
Idiot! Fool! Look what you ve gone and done! You could ve broken my back! Trampling all over me like that!
Nimbu uncoiled herself and looked around warily. And got her second fright of the morning. The twig she had been clinging to on the dark earth had fine green stalks waving bizarrely like oars in a boat. From one end of it (the prow, you might say) two beady little eyes stared angrily at her out of a chinless, prissy face. They were the same eyes that had glared at her, up on the bush, just before she fell. Then, to her horror, the green stalk spoke:
You fat caterpillars! You think you can steamroll over everyone in your path. And just look at the size of you! There was withering contempt in the voice.
Gosh, I m sorry, apologized Nimbu, glancing around and hoping that no one would see her ostensibly talking to a twig. I er didn t know you were there. You look so much like a twig. And added in an eager, friendly tone, Hi, I m Nimbu, by the way.
The spindly creatue stalked up to her, its eyes glittering. Of course I look like a twig, darling, she chimed in silvery tones, I am a stick insect, aren t I? My name is Ms Twiggy. She eyed the caterpillar speculatively and Nimbu gave a little shiver.
Pleased to meet you, she spluttered, wishing she could get away from this strange, skeletal creature.
Ms Twiggy, as she called herself, rocked back and forth thoughtfully on her long, spindly legs. You know, my dear, she said in a kinder voice, You really ought to go on a diet. Then, when you trample all over us, we won t fall off the bush.
I m sorry, said Nimbu again, and then, curiosity getting the better of her desire to flee, What s a diet?
Ms Twiggy emitted a short, tinkling laugh and hid her mouth behind a bony wrist. Oh, I m sorry. I should have known. Caterpillars wouldn t know what diets are.
Well, what are they?
They involve restrictions on what and how much you can eat.
Why?
Because if you eat too much, and all the wrong things, you get fat.
What s fat?
The skinny insect smiled at Nimbu as you might at a mentally defective puppy. She gave her little tinkling laugh again and quivered like a tuning fork. Fat, my dear, is heavy. Slim is light. Fat is ugly. Slim is beautiful. Fat is unhealthy. Slim is healthy. Fat is clumsy. Slim is delicate. Fat is bad. Slim is good. And you, my dear, are fat. I am slim.
They had begun climbing up the bush now, Ms Twiggy taking long, but dainty, strides, Nimbu humping up clumsily, panting. She could see what Ms Twiggy meant.
They reached a convenient fork where Ms Twiggy arranged herself artistically to resemble a part of the bush. Nimbu, made peckish by the strenuous climb, began devouring a leaf. How can I become slim? she asked indistinctly, her mouth full.
Ms Twiggy looked at her askance, and then a small gleam entered her eyes. Well, you ll have to go on a diet, of course. And do aerobics.
What are aerobics?
Ms Twiggy suddenly produced a portable stereo, and to Nimbu s astonishment, began swinging and waving her toothpick arms and legs about to the music, singing, A-one-and-a-two-and-a-three-and-a-four in a peculiar, reedy falsetto. Then she switched off the music and stopped gyrating. That, my dear, is aerobics. Do you think you ll be able to do that?
I doubt it, admitted Nimbu. I think I d better try a diet first. Will you help me?
Of course, my dear. If that s what you want. But I warn you, it won t be easy. Only caterpillars with a great deal of will-power have ever succeeded in keeping to their diets.
I ll do it!
Okay, if you say so. But you must promise to obey me absolutely and without question.
I promise!
Good. Then STOP EATING! NOW! The order was barked so shrilly that Nimbu stared at Ms Twiggy, open-mouthed. Ms Twiggy reached out and plucked the semi-devoured leaf out of Nimbu s mouth and flung it aside. Are you sure about this? she asked sweetly. Do you really think you have the will-power?
Nimbu nodded deteminedly. It would be wonderful to be slim and lithe like Ms Twiggy, she thought. Not fat and slow and ponderous and ugly as she was now. Come to think of it, she had been grossly ugly since the day she had emerged from her tiny pearl egg on the Chinese orange plant. She could never forget the trauma of the time she had tried to make friends with what she had taken to be another little caterpillar like herself. It had not responded to her overtures of friendship, and so she had butted it lightly with her head, wondering if it were dozing or digesting a heavy meal. And had recoiled with a scream. Her friend was nothing but a bird dropping. And that meant, horror of horrors, that she looked like one too!
But why do bird droppings have to impersonate us? she had asked her counsellor plaintively later that day. And he had dropped another bombshell.
They do not impersonate us, my dear, he remarked blithley, we impersonate them!
What? But why has God made us look like bird droppings? What have we done to deserve that?
Well, my dear, you can relax. It s not a permanent state of attire. When you get bigger, you ll change into a splendid emerald outfit. At the moment you are small, and you know how much birds love caterpillars. They re hunting them all the time. Now tell me, which self-respecting bird will risk being seen eating a bird dropping, even if it knows that particular one is actually a juicy little caterpillar?
The penny dropped and sure enough, after a few days, Nimbu found herself clad in a splendid suit of leaf green. But the humiliation of having had to start life looking like a little shit , as she put it, had been etched deeply in her psyche. Now she was being called fat and ugly by this slim, elegant thing whose back she had almost broken and who was now so kindly helping her to slim down. And become, perhaps, the first caterpillar ever to attempt aerobics.
How many leaves in a day do you consume? inquired Ms Twiggy, a look of professional determination on her face.
Nimbu shrugged. I don t know. I ve never counted. Maybe five, six, seven
You ll have to cut down. We ll start off with half a leaf, every three days.
And so, under the iron-clad supervision of Ms Twiggy, Nimbu went on a crash diet. After the first three hours without touching a morsel, she thought she would die.
Caterpillars have notoriously weak wills! Ms Twiggy taunted, when Nimbu begged for a tiny snack. That taunt brought some of the determination back, but not enough. For when Ms Twiggy went off to feed and left Nimbu alone, she succumbed to temptation.
Only a nibble! she told herself, and before she had known it, had devoured two whole leaves. She was about to start off on the third (and last, of course) when an icy voice froze her.
So, this is your idea of a diet? I turn my back for two minutes and you go and defoliate the whole bush!
And Nimbu couldn t even bluff herself out of the situation because she hadn t known for how long Ms Twiggy had been spying (what else was it?) on her. The trouble with stick insects was that they looked so much like a part of the bush that it was impossible to know whether they were around or not (unless you trampled over one, of course).
As Nimbu looked up, shamefaced and apologetic, she suddenly froze. She could have sworn that there was what appeared to be a part of a butterfly s wing sticking out of the side of Ms Twiggy s mean little mouth. While she stared, Ms Twiggy fastidiously stuffed the bits sticking out into her mouth with her long, bony fingers.
It was pure hell after that. It was clear that Ms Twiggy had taken her assignment very seriously and was determined to make Nimbu as slim as she was herself. Nimbu sometimes thought that the lanky stick insect obtained perverse, malicious pleasure out of her suffering.
A morsel, Nimbu begged pitifully. Just one bite. Please, Ms Twiggy. But the steely Ms Twiggy would have none of it. Not a chance! You want to look like me and all those gorgeous models, right? Then you listen to me.
The following afternoon, Nimbu arrayed herself miserably along the midrib of a leaf and tried to sleep, in order to keep the hunger at bay. She was just about to drift off, when a concerned voice roused her.
Hi, there. Are you feeling all right? You look terribly pale and jaded.
Nimbu looked up weakly and saw a gorgeous