Pongola: Chami’s First Business Empire | A Ponmanipudi Funny Short Story

Pongola: Chami's First Business Empire

|A Ponmanipudi Tale|

“Appa, if I start a business. How long, will it take me, before I become a millionaire?”

Dr. Chari looked up from his newspaper.

“Depends, son.”

“On what?”

“Whether you, yourself start a business. Or spend time asking people how long will it take to become a millionaire.”

Chami frowned, pulling a chair, sitting down.

“Appa, I'm very serious about this business”

“That is what worries me, Chami.”

It was a lovely Monday morning. Chami had obviously been thinking about something all through the night.

Chami's hair was standing up on one side. He had the same eager expression....exactly as if, just before he had decided to ask for money.

“I have decided, Appa. I'm going to become an entrepreneur.”

Dr. Chari lowered the paper.

“Oh! Again?”

“Appa!”

“Sorry. I meant.....um...Excellent. What happened to you becoming a chess grandmaster?”

“Too much practice. I can't memorise all the confusing openings....”

“And the police?”

“Too many rules. And besides, I don't like Superiors....”

“The driving business?”

“Amma wouldn't give me the car keys...obviously I had to start learning....”

“Ah. A major regulatory challenge....”

Chami ignored Appa....

“This time I have thought properly about the business. I will start small...no sweat. Even Coca-Cola started somewhere, yes?”

“I'm not sure their founder started in the kitchen, but continue.....”

Chami leaned forward eagerly...

“I'm going to make my own soft drink....world famous....”

Dr. Chari looked at him for a moment seriously....Then he folded his newspaper very carefully and with a twinkle in his eyes remarked.....

“Should I call the fire brigade now or after the first batch is manufactured....?”

“Appa, you will see.....I am pretty serious...”

And that was how Pongola was born....Not in a laboratory or factory. Of course, years of research was not needed as Chami was supreme...

Pongola was birthed In the kitchen, while Chami's mother, oblivious to the developments, was out buying vegetables.

The first batch was a little too sour....of course first time...

The second was too sweet....

The third had a very strange aftertaste. That Chami insisted was the secret ingredient, like Coca cola's recipe.

“What is the secret ingredient?” Ammulu asked.

“I'm not telling you.”

“Because you don't know?”

“Because you are not a shareholder or stake holder. And besides, the founder keeps the secrets...”

Ammulu took a sip from the glass, Chami had placed in front of her....

Then she put the glass down, glaring....

“Chami, if you give this to somebody you don't like, it will count as an attempt to murder.”

“You have no taste....bad manners....”

“I have taste. That's precisely the problem....”

Chami snatched the glass angrily...

“You'll regret this. One day, when Pongola is sold all over the world, you'll tell people you are my sister...of course, I won't budge....”

“I'll tell them I tried to stop you.”

Chami went back to the kitchen in a huff...

A few minutes later, their mother, Radhamma, came home.

She took one good look at the kitchen counter.

“Why are there so many lemons?”

“Business, Amma.” ...Chami said softly..

“Why is there sugar on the floor?”

“Investment, Amma.”

“Why is the kitchen looking orange?”

Chami had no answer to that....it was a mystery to him too...

He was sent outside with his bottles, his steel vessel and strict instructions not to touch even a single thing in the kitchen.

Chami considered this a small setback....a small one...yeah...

Every great businessman, he reasoned, had faced opposition and challenges..

By eleven o'clock, Chami was at the Ponmanipudi bus stand.....

He had cleanly washed six glass bottles, filled them with Pongola. He had made a grand signboard using a piece of cardboard which read....

"PONGOLA"

Refreshing. Delicious. Special introductory price.

Chami had underlined "delicious" three times.

Murugan was sitting in his tea shop, eating groundnuts, as customers seemed to have taken a break...

“Murugan anna! Come. Try something.”

Murugan glanced at the bottles in suspicion.

“What have you done now?”

“Why does everybody ask me that?”

“Because you are "you." What is it?”

“My own soft drink. Pongola.”

Murugan laughed loudly...

“Pongola? What happened to Coca-Cola now?”

“Coca-Cola is their business. Pongola is mine....product of mine.”

“Give me one.”

Chami's face lit up with pleasure. He opened a bottle and handed it over.

Murugan took a sip slowly. His expression changed markedly....

He looked at the bottle. Then at Chami.

“Chi.... What is this?”

“It's a soft drink.”

“I know it is a drink. I'm asking what is this?”

“Special secret formula.”

Murugan took another sip, to give the formula a fair chance.

“No, naw....ayoo.”

“What do you mean, no?”

“I don't want it.”

“You haven't finished it.”

“I don't need to touch a cobra to know it can bite.”

Chami took back the bottle, grumbling...

“Fine. When Pongola becomes world famous, don't come asking me for stock.”

Murugan went back to his groundnuts, spitting the peels...

“First become famous in Ponmanipudi, da.”

"Pongola, nonsense....you will kill somebody...ayoo.."

Chami walked away without looking back....

He had a business to run. He did not have time for people who lacked vision.

His next customer was a man waiting for the Rajathooram bus.

“Sir, would you like a cold drink?”

The man looked at him. “How much?”

Chami told him.

“Which company?”

“Pongola.”

“Never heard of it.”

“That's why I'm introducing it.”

The man laughed. But, he bought a bottle.

Chami watched him take the first sip.

“Well?”

“Hmm.”

“What does hmm mean?”

“It means hmm.”

“Sir, please. Your honest opinion is important to us.”

The man nearly choked....

“Us? Who else is there?”

“My team.”

“What team?”

Chami hesitated.

“My family.”

The man laughed loudly. ...a woman beside him turned around....

But he finished the bottle.

Chami counted the money twice and put it into his pocket...His first sale....not bad......

An actual customer who had paid actual money for something he had made with his own hands.

He stood a little straighter and put a smile on his face.....

Then he sold another bottle to a woman whose son kept tugging at her sari and asking what Pongola tasted like.

The boy drank half of it.

“Amma, it's sour....”and spat it out.

His mother handed it back to Chami.

“Your customer has rejected the product,” she said, smiling. “You should improve your quality.”

Chami took the bottle.

“Thank you for your feedback, madam.”

He had heard that phrase in a business video....It sounded very professional.

By lunchtime, Chami had sold four bottles.

He had also given away two as free discount...One to a man who promised to tell his friends. The other to a boy who said he had no money and then ran off before Chami could ask his name.

Chami was beginning to understand that business was not as easy as it looked on television.

Still, four sales! Every millionaire starts with pennies!

He hurried home to report his success....

Dr. Chari was in the garden, watering a plant, coaxing it to keep growing...

“Appa! I made money!”

“Congratulations. How much?”

Chami told him.

“And how much did you spend?”

“On what?”

“Lemons. Sugar. Bottles. Everything.”

Chami stared at him.

“Why do you keep asking these questions?”

“Because I am your father.”

“That doesn't answer anything.”

“Wait until you have children.”

Chami opened his pocket notebook and began calculating.

He was quiet for a long time....

Then he came and sat beside his father.

“Appa?”

“Yes?”

“I think I made a loss.”

Dr. Chari nodded.

“Good.”

Chami turned to him, deeply offended.

“Why is that good?”

“Because yesterday you had no business. Today you have a business and a loss. That is progress.”

“Appa, please don't make jokes. I'm having a financial crisis.”

Dr. Chari put an arm around his shoulder.

“Listen, Chairman Chami. Tomorrow, make a smaller batch. Find out what people actually like. Don't spend more than you can afford to lose. And please, for the love of all the Gods in Ponmanipudi, taste the drink before selling it.”

“I tasted it.”

“And?”

“It was good.”

“Then your tongue and the market disagree. You should investigate it.”

Chami laughed despite himself.

That evening, Chami changed the recipe.... less lemon... a little more sugar. He also decided to stop giving away free bottles.

The old man was sitting at the far end of the bus stand when Chami saw him....

Chami knew most of the regular faces there. This man was unfamiliar. He wore a faded checked shirt, a dhoti, and held a cloth bag on his lap. Every now and then, he looked up the road....

Chami approached him with a bottle.

“Thatha, Pongola?”

The old man smiled.

“No, child.”

“Why? It's good.”

“Then you drink it.”

“I already have.”

“Then why are you selling it?”

Chami had not prepared an answer for this.

“Because I have to make money, Thatha.”

“Ah. That's a good reason.”

The old man looked at the bottle.

“How much?”

Chami told him.

The man opened his cloth bag, searched inside and found a few coins. He counted them slowly....he was short by a little.

“Never mind,” he said, putting the coins away. “Another day.”

Chami looked at the coins, then at the bottle.

“Take it, Thatha.”

“No, no. You are doing business.”

“First customer discount.”

“Didn't I just see you selling to that man there?”

“Second customer discount, then.”

The old man laughed....

“Your business will close in a week.”

“Thatha! Please don't curse my business.”

“I'm not cursing it. I'm giving you advice.”

Chami handed him the bottle.

The old man took a sip....

He made a face.

Chami waited.

“Too sour,” the man said.

“I know.”

“Then why are you selling it?”

“I'm improving the recipe as I go along.”

The old man laughed again. This time, he laughed for quite a while.

When he had finished, he held the bottle in both hands.

“My wife used to make lemon juice,” he said. “Very good lemon juice. Everybody in our street came to our house in summer. She would make a whole pot and shout at me if I drank too much before the guests arrived.”

He looked at the bottle.

“She died last year.”

Chami did not know what to say.

The buses came and went. A conductor shouted out a destination. Someone dropped a steel tiffin carrier, and its lid rolled under a bench...

The old man took another sip.

“Your drink is not very good, child.”

Chami looked down.

“But the name is good,” the man added. “Pongola. It sounds nice.” "Pongola...Pongola...yes"

“I am going to make it better.”

“I hope you do.”

The Rajathooram bus pulled in.

The old man stood up, picked up his bag and walked towards it. Before climbing, he turned.

“Don't give up just because the first batch is bad.”

Chami grinned.

“I won't, Thatha.”

The bus pulled away.

Chami stood there for a while, holding the empty crate...

Then he went home.

That evening, Ammulu found him in the kitchen, squeezing lemons.

“Again?”

“Go away.”

“Did Murugan finally buy your company?”

“Ammulu.”

“All right, all right.”

She leaned against the door.

“Can I try the new batch?”

Chami looked at her suspiciously.

“Why?”

“Because I'm thirsty.”

He poured her a little.

She tasted it.

“Hmm.”

He stared at her.

“What does hmm mean?”

“It means hmm.”

“Tell me properly!”

She took another sip.

“It's better.”

Chami's face brightened.

“Really?”

“Don't become emotional. It's still not very good.”

He took the glass from her and tasted it himself.

Then he frowned.

“Needs more sugar.”

Ammulu laughed.

He started squeezing another lemon.

After a moment, she came over and held the bowl steady for him....

Neither said anything....

Dr. Chari found them there a little later.

Chami was working over the steel vessel. Ammulu was cutting lemons, though she maintained that she was doing it only because she wanted the kitchen cleaned before dinner.

“What's happening here?” he asked.

“Product development,” Chami said.

“Ah. And how is the market?”

“Difficult.”

“Your competitors?”

“Murugan is a fool.”

“Your customers?”

“Some are fools.”

“Your family?”

Chami looked at him.

“Appa, can you please be serious for five minutes?”

Dr. Chari pulled up a chair.

“All right.”

He watched Chami squeeze another lemon.

After a while, he asked, “Why are you doing this again?”

Chami shrugged.

“Because I want to make something of my own.”

Dr. Chari said nothing.

“I know it's not very good yet,” Chami continued. “But I'll learn. And one day, I'll make something people want to buy.”

He paused.

“Also, I want to be rich....a millionaire”

“There he is,” said Dr. Chari smiling. “I was worried we had lost the original Founder.”

Chami threw a lemon at him.

Dr. Chari caught it.

“Good aim. We may have a future in sports after all...si.”

“Appa!”

From outside came the sound of Murugan calling to someone on the road.

Chami rushed to the doorway, maybe he had changed his mind...

“Murugan anna! Want to try the new Pongola?”

“Not even if you pay me!”

Chami turned back to his father.

“One day, he will regret this.”

“Perhaps. But first, make something he won't regret drinking.”

Chami went back to his lemons.

Later, when I passed their house on my evening walk, I saw Chami sitting on the veranda with his notebook open. He was writing something, his lips moving as he worked out the figures.

I asked what he was doing.

“Calculating my profit, Appa.”

“And?”

“Still a loss.”

“Then why are you smiling?”

He looked up at me.

“Because tomorrow I'm going to try again.”

I told him that was a dangerous habit.

Chami said .."I know".

Then he returned to his notebook.

I walked on, thinking that Ponmanipudi had seen many boys grow up, and most of them had eventually found something to do with their lives.

Chami, however, seemed determined to try everything first.

From the kitchen, his mother shouted, “Chami! If you have finished your business, come and wash these vessels you have used!”

“Coming, Amma!”

He closed his notebook.

Then, after a moment, he opened it again and wrote one last line.

Pongola: Tomorrow's target... ten bottles.

He underlined it twice...

Chami was going to be trouble. But somehow, I suspected Ponmanipudi would be a little dull without him.....yeah!

Welcome to Ponmanipudi... where nothing is as it seems.

Ponmanipudi is an original village created by Sriranga V.N. Here, ordinary lives become extraordinary stories, and the everyday moments of village life reveal the humour, tenderness, contradictions and quiet mysteries of being human.