The Jalsa and Jilpa Snack edition

I promise. This will be the last one.

Ali was a spoiled child. His father, the town’s blacksmith, was worried. He was not a rich man and could not leave his son any meaningful inheritance that could afford the sort of charmed life that children of nobility often led. The kid had to learn to be responsible and earn his keep. That’s it, the blacksmith thought. Ali needs a daily regimen to straighten him out. But it had to be gradual. The kid was likely to protest if the change was drastic.

He decided that the household cat would make a good, easy start. Nothing too hard. He called Ali to his forge and told him that he had a new responsibility, that of waking up early and petting Rustum, the large Persian cat that had this abominable habit of climbing onto the master’s bed early in the morning every day and waking the blacksmith up just so he could get his early morning’s quota of petting. Rustum’s needs were now Ali’s responsbility, he was told.

Ali was hesitant but the task did not seem onerous enough to protest against. He reluctantly agreed. A week passed. The blacksmith felt that it was time to add to Ali’s daily schedule. Preparing rice, he felt, would make a suitable addition to Ali’s morning routine. The boy was summoned and informed, and with some reluctance again, he accepted. He had to wash the rice and boil it every morning after he was done petting Rustom.

Soon enough, the crafty father managed to make Ali also pick tea leaves, crush them and make the morning tea manually, and also weld the apprentice’ iron vise before he started the day’s work.

The blacksmith was happy. The regimen was working. Ali to pet early, do rice, make some manual tea, weld Iron vise