The Trapped Cobra and the Clever Rat: A Tale of Betrayal and Justice!

Three years have rolled by since the cobra Hooda was brought and lodged at the city's mini zoo. Life in the netted enclosure has become unbearable for him. Day and night, he kept recalling the free days he spent in the forest. The day he was caught and handed over to the forest people was a black day. He did not have to hunt for food painstakingly in the zoo; instead, he got his food supplied to him alive. Still, even for a cobra, freedom is essential. Even an insect hates confinement.

Sometimes, Hooda became so depressed that he even thought of biting himself to death, but he did not know that a snake's body is immune to the poison it produces. As he was wondering how long he had to bear that life of imprisonment, the attendant in charge pushed a live rat—his breakfast—through the feeding aperture.

Hooda slithered towards the trembling rat, Rooda, and was about to catch hold of the rodent when the would-be prey knelt down and prayed, "Oh, dear Nag, don't kill me. Spare me, and I will be of help to you."

"What help do you think you can give me?" asked Hooda the serpent sneeringly.

“I can help you escape from here," replied Rooda the rat immediately. "Give me a day's time, and I will make a hole through which we both can get out to freedom," proposed Rooda the rat.

Hooda the cobra thought for a bit and decided to accept Rooda's proposal. "I will give you just twenty-four hours, beyond which I cannot bear hunger."

Rooda the rat agreed and set to work then and there, carefully selecting a weak spot in the enclosure. Rooda completed his assignment before the deadline and invited Hooda the cobra to look at it. Hooda was happy to see the escape hole. Being, after all, a snake, his mind changed from philosophical to diabolical.

Turning to Rat Rooda, he said, “You did an excellent job, but... I am sorry I have to break my promise that I would spare your life. Since I am very hungry, I will have to swallow you. In the wilderness, who knows how many days it will take me to come across a prey? Moreover, I am out of touch with hunting."

"Mr. Cobra, may I draw your attention to the size of the hole I made? It is just big enough for you to wriggle through with an empty stomach, and that too with great difficulty. Knowing well the treacherous mind of snakes like you, I took the precaution of limiting the size of the hole.

If you swallow me, you will not be able to pass through the tunnel I made. So, you had better think twice before trying to swallow me."

Saying this, Rooda entered the hole and started scurrying towards the exit. The first thing it did when it reached the other end of the tunnel was to block its mouth with stones and wet mud, which it had kept ready with foresight.

The cobra paid dearly for failing to keep its word. It got stuck in the tunnel and died; it could neither wriggle forward nor writhe backward. Poor Hooda paid a heavy price for breaking a solemn promise.

As for Rooda, it hurried towards its paddy field residence, where its two dozen babies waited, making up its mind to shift its family to some distant location far from the mini zoo.