The hare and the tortoise has always been one of the favorite stories and this version by Vikram Seth is the reality of today:)
Once or twice upon a time
In the land of Runnyrhyme
Lived a hare both hot and heady
And a tortoise slow and steady.
When at noon the hare awoke
She would tell herself a joke.
Squeal with laughter, roll about,
Eat her eggs and sauerkraut,
Then pick up the phone and babble,
-‘Gibble-gabble, gibble-gabble’ –
To her friends the mouse and mole
And the empty-headed vole:
“Hey, girls, did you know the rat
Was rejected by the bat?’
“Good for her! The rat’s a fool!”
“Oh, I think he’s kinda cool.”
“Too bad, darling, now he’s dating
Lady Lemming’s maid-in-waiting.’
“What – that hamster? You don’t say!” –
Gibble-gabble every day!
Gibble-gabble everywhere
Went the mouse and mole and hare –
Gibble-gabble, gibble-gabble.
Oh, what riffraff! Oh, what rabble!
But the tortoise, when he rose,
Daily counted all his toes
Twice or three times to ensure
There were neither less nor more.
Next he’d tally the amount
In his savings bank account.
Then he’d very carefully
Count his grandsons: one, two, three –
Ed, and Ned, and Fred by name.
And his sermon was the same:
“Eddy, Neddy, Freddy – boys –
You must never break your toys
You must often floss your gums.
You must always do your sums.
Buy your own house; don’t pay rent.
Save your funds at six per cent.
Major in accountancy.
And grow up to be like me.
Listen, Eddy, Neddy, Freddy –
You be slow – but you be steady.”
One day by the Fauna Fountain
Near the noble Mammal Mountain
Where the ducks and ducklings dabble,
Hare and mouse went: “Gibble-gabble,
Gibble-gabble – look who’s coming!”
And the hare began a-giggling:
“Well, it isn’t Samuel Pigling
-That’s for sure – or Peter Rabbit
Or Sir Fox in hunting habit.
Even Hedgehog Roly-Poly
Wouldn’t ever walk so slowly.
Inch by inch by inch he’s crawling.
How pathetic! How appalling!
He won’t get here in an hour
If he uses turtle-power.”
“Teddy Tortoise, go and grab
Tram or train or taxi-cab!”
Squealed the hare; I have no doubt
You can shell the money out!”
And at this disgraceful pun
Hare and mouse both squealed with fun,
Ran around the tortoise twice,
Fell into the fountain thrice,
Swam, and sang out as they swam:
“I’m a tortoise – yes, I am!
See me swimming! Glug, glug, glug!
I’m a tortoise! No, a slug!”
Now the tortoise snapped the air,
And addressed the hare-brained hare:
“Madam, you are rash and young
And should mind your mindless tongue.
Doubtless, Madam, hares exceed
Tortoises by far in speed.
But, were we to run a race,
I, not you, would win first place.
Slowly, surely I’d defeat you.
Trust me, Madam, I would beat you.”
“Darling Tortoise,” drawled the hare,
“I would thrash you anywhere –
Marsh or mountain, hill or dale,
Field or forest, rain or hail!”
Snapped the tortoise slow and steady:
“Choose your place, and I’ll be ready.
Choose your time, and make it soon.”
“Here!” the hare said: “Sunday noon.”
So, at the appointed time
All the beasts of Runnyrhyme
-Every reptile, bird, or mammal
From the koala to the camel –
Gathered to behold the race,
Gobbled popcorn, guzzled beer,
And exclaimed: “They’re here! They’re here!”
At the starting block the steady
Tortoise flexed his toes, quite ready;
But the flighty hare, still wearing
Her silk nightie, kept on staring
At the mirror while the press
Took her words down, more or less.
Young reporters sought her views
For the “Rhyme and Runny News”.
“What’s at stake besides the honour?”
“Is the tortoise, Ma’am, a goner?”
“Why did you agree to run?”
“Is the race already won?”
Pouting out her scarlet lips,
Sweetly wiggling head and hips,
Making wolves feel weak inside,
Languidly Ms Hare replied:
“Teddy Tortoise, don’t you see,
Has this awful crush on me.
Why, he thinks I’m simply stunning.
That’s why, darlings, I am running.
And I’ve staked the cup I won
When I was Miss Honeybun …
Who will win? Why – can’t you tell?
Read the lipstick on his shell.”
There she’d smeared a scarlet ‘2’
And the words: ‘Mock Turtil Stew.’
Soon the starting gun was heard
And a secretary bird
Gently murmured: “It’s begun.
Ma’am, perhaps you ought to run.’
“No,” the hare laughed – “Oh, no, no!
Teddy Tortoise is so slow.
Let him have a little start.
I don’t want to break his heart.”
But the tortoise plodded on
Like a small automaton,
Muttering, as he held his pace:
“I have got to win this race.”
Two hours passed. In satin shorts
Cut for fashion more than sports,
Ms Hare once again appeared,
Yawning softly as she neared:
“Two o’clock! My beauty sleep!”
“Ma’am, the race - ?” “The race will keep.
Really, it’s already won.”
And she stretched out in the sun.
Two hours passed. The hare awoke
And she stretched and yawned and spoke:
“Where’s the tortoise?” “Out of sight.”
“Oh,” the hare said: “Really? Right!
Time to go – “ and off she bounded,
Leaving all her friends astounded
At her rocket-fuelled pace.
“Sure!” they said, “She’ll win this race.”
She was out of sight already
On the heels of Tortoise Teddy.
Suddenly the dizzy hare
Saw a field of mushrooms where
Champignons and chanterelles
Mixed with devils-of –the-dell.
(This last mushroom, I suspect,
Has a cerebral effect.
Every time I eat one, I
Feel I’m floating in the sky.)
“How delicious! What a treat!”
Said the hare: “I’ll stop and eat.”
So she did, and very soon
She was singing out of tune,
And she lurched towards the wood,
Shouting to the neighbourhood:
“Boring, boring, life is boring.
Birdies, help me go exploring.
Let’s go off the beaten track.
In a minute I’ll be back – “
Off the hare went, fancy-free.
One hour passed, then two, then three.
But the tortoise plodded on
Now the day was almost gone
And the sun was sinking low –
Very steady, very slow –
And he saw the finish line
And he thought, “The race is mine!” –
And the gold cup was in sight
Glinting in the golden light –
When with an impassioned air
Someone screamed: “Look! Look! The hare!” –
And the punters started jumping,
And the tortoise heard a thumping
Close behind him on the track,
And he wanted to look back –
For the hare was roused at last
And was gaining on him fast –
And had almost caught him up
And retrieved her golden cup
When the tortoise, mouth agape,
Crossed the line and bit the tape.
After the announcer’s gun
Had pronounced that he had won,
And the cheering of the crowd
Died at last, the tortoise bowed,
Clasped the cup with quiet pride,
And sat down, self-satisfied.
And he thought: “That silly hare!
So much for her charm and flair.
So much for her idle boast.
In her cup I’ll raise a toast
To hard work and regularity.
Silly creature! Such vulgarity!
Now she’ll learn that sure and slow
Is the only way to go –
That you can’t rise to the top
With a skip, a jump, a hop –
That you’ve got to hatch your eggs,
That you’ve got to count your legs,
That you’ve got to do your duty,
Not depend on verve and beauty.
When the press comes, I shall say
That she’s been shell-shocked today!
What a well-deserved disgrace
That the fool has lost this race.”
But it was in fact the hare,
With a calm insouciant air
Like an unrepentant bounder,
Who allured the pressmen round her.
“Oh, Miss Hare, you’re so appealing
When you’re sweating,” said one, squealing.
“You have tendered gold and booty
To the shrine of sleep and beauty,”
Breathed another, overawed;
And Will Wolf, the great press lord
Filled a gold cup – on a whim –
With huge rubies to the brim
-Gorgeous rubies, bold and bright,
Red as cherries, rich with light –
And with an inviting grin
Murmured: “In my eyes you win.”
And perhaps she had; the hare
Suddenly was everywhere.
Stories of her quotes and capers
Made front page in all the papers –
And the sleepy BBC
-Beastly Broadcast Company –
Beamed a feature in the news:
“All the World Lost for a Snooze” –
Soon she saw her name in lights,
Sold a book and movie rights,
While a travel magazine
Bought the story, sight unseen,
Of her three hour expedition
To the wood – called “Mushroom Mission”.
Soon the cash came pouring in,
And to save it was a sin –
So she bought a manor house
Where she lived with mole and mouse –
And her friends, when they played Scrabble
Gibble-gabble, gibble-gabble,
Gibble-gabble all the way –
Let her spell Compete with K.
Thus the hare was pampered rotten
And the tortoise was forgotten.
