The Broken Pot

Watercolor illustration of Mr. Stingy (Svabhavakripana), a thin man with a slightly hunched back, lying in a worn, straw-filled bed. He wears simple, patched earth-toned clothing, a coarse linen shirt barely covering his ribs. Above him, hanging precariously from a rusty hook on the whitewashed wall, is a large, rustic clay pot overflowing with glistening white rice. A single shaft of moonlight, piercing through a crack in the wooden shutters, illuminates the pot, casting long, dramatic shadows across the room. He gazes up at the pot with wide, greedy eyes that reflect the moonlight, a faint, almost manic smile playing on his thin lips. The room is dimly lit, the color palette muted grays and browns, emphasizing the golden glow of the rice as the focal point, contrasting with the poverty of the setting. The texture of the roughly plastered wall and the coarse blanket are visible details.

Once upon a time, in a small town, there lived a man named Svabhavakripana, but everyone called him “Mr. Stingy.” He was super good at saving money. He got lots of rice by asking people for it, and after eating a little, he put the rest in a big pot. He hung the pot on a hook on the wall and put his bed right under it. Every night, he would stare at the pot and think, “Wow, that pot is stuffed with rice! If everyone runs out of food, I can sell it and get lots of money!”

Watercolor illustration depicting Mr. Stingy sitting cross-legged on a worn, woven mat, eyes closed in deep concentration, a serene, almost beatific expression on his aged face. Sunlight streams through a dusty window, creating a warm, hazy glow. He is visualizing a progression of animals: A small pair of young, playful goats, with fluffy white coats, standing tentatively in front of him, transitioning into a larger group of goats grazing peacefully, then several cows with calves, their coats a rich, earthy brown, followed by strong buffaloes with thick, dark hides and imposing horns, and finally, majestic horses, their manes flowing, silhouetted against a vibrant sunset. All the animals are rendered in soft, muted pastels and earth tones, suggesting they are part of his fleeting, wistful daydream. Subtle watercolor washes create a sense of depth and motion within the daydream. The room itself is spartan, only containing the woven mat and a small, cracked clay bowl.

He kept thinking, “With that money, I’ll buy two cute goats. They’ll have baby goats every few months, and soon I’ll have a whole bunch of goats! Then, I’ll trade the goats for cows. When the cows have baby calves, I’ll sell them. Then, with the money from the calves, I’ll buy big, strong buffaloes! With the buffaloes, I’ll get fast horses. When the horses have foals, I’ll have tons of horses, and when I sell them, I’ll have so much gold!”

Watercolor illustration showing a grand, two-story house with many arched windows and ornate, carved wooden details, bathed in the golden light of late afternoon. Sunlight glints off the polished tiles of the roof. In front of the house, a beautiful woman in elegant, flowing silk attire, adorned with delicate jewelry, holds a baby (Somasarman), wrapped in fine linen. Mr. Stingy stands nearby, chest puffed out with pride, looking wealthy and respectable, dressed in finer clothes – a tailored linen suit and polished leather shoes – than before. His smile is wide and genuine. The scene is bathed in warm sunlight, the color palette rich and vibrant, portraying a sense of idyllic family life and prosperity. Flowers bloom in abundance in the meticulously manicured garden, and a gentle breeze rustles the leaves of the trees in the background.

“With all that gold,” he thought, “I’ll buy a huge house with lots of rooms! And then a nice person will come to my house and give me his beautiful daughter to marry, with lots of presents! She’ll have a baby boy, and I’ll name him Somasarman!”

Watercolor illustration of a domestic interior scene, realistically cluttered. Mr. Stingy, now older, his face etched with wrinkles and his hair thinning, sits in a worn armchair, reading a large, leather-bound book in the background. Soft lamplight casts a warm glow on the scene. A small boy, Somasarman, about two years old, crawls towards him on a worn, patterned rug, reaching for him with outstretched arms, his face beaming with affection. In the foreground, the woman (Mr. Stingy’s wife), her hair pulled back in a simple bun, is engaged in household chores, kneading dough at a wooden table, her back partially turned to the viewer, a subtle hint of weariness in her posture. The scene suggests a bustling, lived-in environment, with a warm color palette of golds, browns, and reds. Details like a stack of dishes, a half-finished embroidery project, and a flickering fireplace add to the realism.

He went on dreaming, “When Somasarman is big enough to play on my lap, I’ll be sitting in the back reading a book. The boy will see me and jump out of his mommy’s arms and run to me to play on my knee! But he’ll get too close to the horse’s feet, and I’ll get really mad! I’ll yell to my wife, ‘Watch the baby! Be careful!’ But she’ll be busy doing chores and won’t hear me. Then I’ll get up and give her a little kick with my foot to get her attention!”

Watercolor illustration of Mr. Stingy lying face down on the rough, wooden floor, completely covered in a mountain of white rice. The clay pot that contained the rice is broken into jagged pieces beside him, the clay shards scattered among the rice grains. His expression, visible through the rice clinging to his face, is one of utter shock and dismay, his eyes wide and filled with despair. His arms are outstretched, as if he tried to catch the falling rice. The background is blurred and out of focus, drawing attention to the overwhelming amount of rice and the figure engulfed by it, highlighting the devastating consequences of his unrealistic dreams. The color palette is dominated by the stark white of the rice, contrasted by the dark wood of the floor and the earthy tones of the broken pot. The light is harsh and unforgiving, emphasizing the messy reality of his downfall.

While he was thinking about kicking his wife, he accidentally kicked his foot out and BAM! He broke the pot! All the rice fell down on him, covering him from head to toe in white! That’s why they say, “If you make silly plans about the future, you’ll end up covered in rice, just like the dad of Somasarman!”

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The Brave Little Mouse

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