In a forest, within the hollow of a tree, lived a Chukar partridge. Surrounding that very tree stood several others, bearing an abundance of fruits and seeds. Filling his belly with these fruits and seeds, the Chukar would lie about in blissful contentment. In this manner, many years passed. One day, while flying by, another Chukar landed on a branch of that tree to catch his breath. The two struck up a conversation. The visiting Chukar was astonished to learn that his counterpart was spending his entire life subsisting solely on the fruits and seeds of trees. The visitor remarked, "My friend, fruits and seeds are not the only things to eat in this world; there are many other delicious delicacies as well. You ought to try them, too. The grains that grow in the fields are truly incomparable. Just try changing the flavor of your meals for a change!"
After the visiting Chukar flew away, the resident Chukar fell deep into thought. He resolved that, come tomorrow, he would head toward the fields visible in the distance to taste this thing called 'grain' for himself.
The very next day, the Chukar flew down and landed near a field. A crop of paddy was growing in the field. The Chukar nibbled on the tender shoots; he found them to be utterly delicious. He derived such immense pleasure from that day's meal that, feeling completely satiated, he closed his eyes and fell asleep right there. He continued to stay there for some time thereafter—eating, drinking, and sleeping day after day. After six or seven days, it finally dawned on him that he ought to return home.
Meanwhile, a rabbit had been wandering about in search of a home. His burrow had been destroyed because the ground beneath that area had become waterlogged. He happened upon the very tree where the Chukar lived; finding the hollow empty, he claimed it as his own and settled in. When the Chukar finally returned, he discovered that his home had been taken over by someone else. Enraged, the Chukar demanded, "Hey there! Who are you, and what are you doing inside my home?"
Baring his teeth, the rabbit retorted, "I am the master of this home! I have been living here for seven days now; this house belongs to *me*." Chakor exploded in anger—"Seven days! Brother, I have been living in this den for many years. Ask any bird or four-footed creature in the vicinity!"
Interrupting Chakor, the rabbit retorted, "It's quite simple. I arrived here; this den was lying empty, so I settled in. Why should I go around asking the neighbors now?"
Chakor fumed, "Oh, really! Just because a house appears empty, does that mean no one lives there? I am telling you for the last time: vacate my home gracefully, or else..."
The rabbit challenged him right back, "Or else, what will you do? This home belongs to me. Do whatever you please!"
Chakor was intimidated. He went to his neighboring animals to plead for help and justice. Everyone offered feigned sympathy, but no one stepped forward to offer any concrete assistance.
An elderly neighbor remarked, "It wouldn't be wise to let this dispute escalate further. You two should reach some sort of mutual agreement." However, there seemed to be no prospect of a compromise, as the rabbit was unwilling to vacate the den under any circumstances. Finally, a fox offered them some advice: "You two should find a wise and pious sage to act as an arbitrator and settle your dispute."
Both of them liked this suggestion. They began wandering here and there in search of such an arbitrator. As they wandered, they eventually arrived at the banks of the Ganges one day. There, they spotted a cat immersed in prayer and meditation. The cat wore a *tilak* mark on its forehead. Seated upon a deerskin rug, with a sacred thread draped around its neck and prayer beads in its paw, it looked every bit like a true ascetic. Upon seeing it, both Chakor and the rabbit leaped for joy. Where else could they possibly find a sage more wise and pious than this? The rabbit suggested, "Chakor, why don't we ask this one to settle our dispute?"
The cat had made a strong impression on Chakor as well. However, he was a bit apprehensive. The Chukar said, "I have no objection, but we ought to be a little cautious." The cat's spell, however, had already worked its magic on the rabbit. He exclaimed, "Oh, come on! Can't you see? This cat has renounced all worldly attachments and illusions to become an ascetic!"
The truth, however, was that the cat was merely feigning piety solely to ensnare foolish creatures like them. To further impress the Chukar and the rabbit, she began chanting mantras aloud. The rabbit and the Chukar approached her, folded their hands in reverence, and chanted in salutation: "Jai Mata Di! Salutations to the Mother!"
Smiling gently, the cat slowly opened her eyes and bestowed her blessings: "May you both live long! I see lines of worry etched upon your faces. What troubles you, my children?"
The Chukar pleaded, "Mother, there is a dispute between the two of us. We wish for you to arbitrate and resolve it."
The cat blinked her eyes in feigned shock: "Hare Ram, Hare Ram! You should not be quarreling. Live together in love and peace." She offered this counsel, then added, "Nevertheless, tell me—what is the nature of your dispute?"
The Chukar explained the matter. The rabbit had just opened his mouth to present his side of the story when the cat raised a paw to stop him and said, "My children, I am quite old, and my hearing is no longer very good. My eyesight, too, has grown weak. Therefore, I ask that you both come closer to me and speak your respective arguments loudly into my ears, so that I may understand the cause of your dispute and deliver justice to you both. Jai Siyaram."
The two of them drew right up close to the 'pious' cat so they could whisper their respective arguments into her ears. This was precisely the opportunity the cat had been waiting for; with a sudden "Meow!" she pounced, and in a single swift strike, she finished off both the rabbit and the Chukar. Then, she proceeded to devour them at her leisure.
The two of them drew right up close to the 'pious' cat so they could whisper their respective arguments into her ears. The cat had been waiting for just such an opportunity; letting out a "meow," she finished off both the rabbit and the partridge in a single pounce. Then, she proceeded to eat them at her leisure.