The Unwelcome Guests

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Once upon a time, in a small village in Tamil Nadu, there lived a very poor man named Ponnan. Although he barely had enough food to feed his own family, Ponnan could not bear to turn anyone away. People he hardly even knew would find themselves warmly invited home for lunch, for dinner, for tea - for any meal he happened to be heading home towards. His wife would watch with growing despair.

"Please think of your own family first!" she would plead. "You bring random strangers home to eat! Do you want us to starve to death?"

But Ponnan's heart was too open for reason to find much room. And word spread through the village - and beyond - that here was a man who would feed you for free, ask no questions, and smile warmly while he did it. Many people took full advantage of his generous nature.

One morning, Ponnan set off for work. His wife finished her chores, turning the problem over in her mind as she swept and scrubbed. There must be a way, she thought. Begging him has not worked. Reasoning has not worked. Something else is needed.

She happened to glance out of the window. Two men were walking along the path - and with a sinking feeling she recognised that particular gait: arms swinging, stomachs forward, rubbing their hands together in anticipation. Ponnan had clearly invited them for lunch on his way out that morning.

"Oh God, not again!" she muttered. "I have to do something - today!"

Her gaze fell on the large stone mortar and pestle she used to pound rice. An idea flickered. She stared at it for a long moment, and then a slow, shrewd smile spread across her face.

Moving quickly, she dragged the mortar to the centre of the room, wiped it clean, and applied a thick streak of saffron paste across the top. She fetched a flower garland from the shelf and arranged it lovingly around the base. She lit an incense stick and set it nearby. By the time she had finished, the mortar and pestle looked unmistakably as though it had just been worshipped - or was about to be.

"I think it looks ready now," she said quietly to herself. She sat down in front of it, closed her eyes, and began chanting mantras under her breath, one ear cocked towards the door.

The two men entered the hut shortly after, already licking their lips. "I am going to eat to my heart's content today!" one was saying to the other. Ponnan's wife rose and welcomed them with great warmth. "Do come in, come in! Make yourselves at home!" She was all smiles. The men were pleasantly surprised - they had expected no greeting at all.

Then they saw it. The mortar and pestle, decorated and garlanded, sitting in the middle of the room like a shrine.

"What is this?" asked one man, puzzled. "Are you… worshipping a mortar and pestle?"

Ponnan's wife turned to them with an expression of gentle surprise. "Didn't my husband mention it to you?" she asked, tilting her head. "It is his deity. A very particular one."

"How do you mean?" asked one of the men, shifting his weight.

She lowered her voice and took on a calm, eerie tone. "It demands human blood."

The men stared. The incense curled between them.

"Yes, it is true," she continued, as though discussing the weather. "My husband invites guests home specifically for this purpose. When they arrive, he strikes them on the head with the pestle - just firmly enough to draw blood. He then offers the blood to the deity. It is our household ritual."

The colour drained from both men's faces.

"I have told him so many times not to do it," she added with a weary sigh, "but does he ever listen? And it is no simple matter to clean the floor afterwards, I can tell you."

The men did not wait for another word. They bolted from the hut as though the floor were on fire - stumbling over each other, gasping, running down the path and out of sight.

At that very moment, Ponnan came home for his midday meal. He saw the two men sprinting away from his house and was completely baffled. "What happened?" he asked his wife.

"They wanted the pestle," she said calmly. "But I wouldn't give it to them."

"You fool! Why ever not? Let them have it!"

Ponnan snatched up the pestle and ran out into the lane, waving it above his head. "Come back! Come back! Take the pestle!" he shouted after the retreating figures.

The two men, glancing back to see Ponnan charging towards them with the pestle raised high, screamed and ran faster than they ever had in their lives.

After that day, something curious happened: nobody accepted Ponnan's invitations any more. People would suddenly remember urgent appointments. Strangers would take the long road around the village. Even old friends found reasons to eat elsewhere.

Ponnan was puzzled for the rest of his life. He never understood why his warm hospitality was no longer welcomed.

And his wife? She kept her secret - and her smile - entirely to herself.

Why Kids Love This Story

• Brilliantly funny climax - Ponnan chasing the men with the pestle, thinking he's being helpful, is perfectly timed comedy.
• A clever hero - children love seeing a quick-witted character solve a problem with nothing but their imagination.
• The ordinary made extraordinary - a humble kitchen mortar becoming a fearsome "deity" is magical in the most everyday way.
• Greed gets its comeuppance - the guests who came for a free meal leave with nothing but fright. Children find justice in this.

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