Storytelling: the Fat Man from Bombay (Week 1)

  When he was a young man, Edgar had lived in England.  Through very little hard work and a very lot of luck, he had amassed a small wealth during his youth.  Unfortunately, a small wealth only lasts a short time with poor planning.  Down on his luck, Edgar took what little of his wealth remained and transferred it, and himself, to Bombay.  The transition had been more than jarring at first.  Though many people spoke English, they had thick accents.  Lazy as he was, Edgar could hardly be bothered to decipher what they were saying.  Eventually, however, he learned that a small wealth could go a long way here.  He got himself an Indian home and an Indian wife and grew fat on rice, curries, and chicken.

  Now, at the age of sixty, the only thing he enjoyed more than a good meal was a good smoke.  He had taken to sitting out on his back patio early in the mornings, with no one but the birds in the trees and himself, and smoking quietly from his pipe.  Some mornings, his wife would come out and yell at him for it.  Other mornings, she would leave him in peace and do her own morning routine.  This morning though, he had not seen her since he had climbed out of bed.  He was thankful for this.  She was always yelling at him to lose weight, to stop smoking, to do something.  To him, the sun shined a little bit brighter with her absence from his morning.  Usually, he threw pebbles at the birds when they started chirping, but this morning he took pleasure in their song.  He sat outside for an hour before his wife came to find him. 

  “There you are!  Are you smoking again?”  She walked over to him and tried to take the pipe from his round hands.  Edgar glared at her for ruining his good morning and pulled back harder on the pipe.  Like tug-o-war, the two fought with the pipe.  Edgar, smiling and thinking he was going to win, gave one last large tug on the pipe.  The pipe, however, flew from his hands and out onto the grass.  The couple looked at each other with their lips pulled tight.  Edgar knew that his wife would yell if he went to retrieve the pipe, but he did so anyway.  Before he could, however, two snipes flew down from the tree and hopped around the pipe curiously. 

  "Shoo!” he yelled at them.  One bird flew off immediately.  The other, however, looked at him curiously. 

  “Shoo, I said!” he yelled again.  The remaining snipe flapped its wings anxiously, snatched the pipe in its beak, and dashed away. 

  Edgar looked at the place his pipe had been and then looked at the bird in the distance.  His wife, who was standing behind him now, cackled with joy. 

  “Even nature agrees with me!  I told you that was for the birds!”

  Edgar puffed out his chest and pushed past his wife as he entered the house. 

Illustration of the Fat Man of Bombay
Source: NonsenseLit

Author's Note:

Rhyme:

There was a fat man of Bombay

Who was smoking one sunshiny day,

When a bird, called a snipe,

Flew away with his pipe,

Which vexed the fat man of Bombay.

Reading through the nursery rhymes, I knew immediately that I wanted to choose a story that I could have fun with.  As soon as I read the nursery rhyme, I instantly pictured a grumpy, lazy man who complained a lot about a place that has been good to him.  I figured that by adding a character that he found to be a nag, it would really play up the grumpiness.  I also wanted him to come off as petulant for no real reason.  I didn't want this to be a story about a jolly old man who gets something taken from him.  Instead, I aimed at making this a story about getting what is coming to you, without it being some big event.  I think one of the best things about using a nursery rhyme as a prompt for a story is that it allows for a lot of wiggle room when it comes to actually writing a story.  Another good thing about nursery rhymes, and this one is particular, is that it could be interpreted in so many different ways.

Book: The Nursery Rhyme Book

Author:Unknown

Year:1897

Source: Project Gutenberg