In a village lived a couple called Puttanna and Puttakka. Slim and fair, Puttakka’s looks could charm anyone. The village headman fell for her and a relationship started between the two. Whenever her husband was away, he would go over to their house. This carried on for a while. Soon enough, Puttanna smelt something was amiss. One day, he said to his wife, “Pack me some food. I’m going to the cattle fair in Subramanya.” A pleased Puttakka swiftly packed food for him. Taking leave of her, he sat watch on the peepul tree opposite their house.
Puttakka started preparing the syrup to make kajjayya: she knew the headman would come over. Entering the house stealthily, the headman peeped inside the kitchen and saw her making the sweet. “Let her finish preparing it,” he told himself and lay down on the cot outside the house. He quickly fell into deep slumber.
Her cooking done, Puttakka came out and found the headman snoring heavily. Before he wakes up, she thought, she might as well bring home some water from the well. While she was away, Puttanna climbed down the tree and went inside the house. He then brought out the pan and poured hot oil down the headman’s nostrils. The headman resembled a radish in no time. Moving the corpse inside the house, Puttanna thrust kajjayyas in its mouth and hands before climbing back up the peepul tree.
On returning home, Puttakka was struck to see the headman inside the house. “What was the hurry?” She said, seeing the sweets in his mouth, and poked his chin. He fell to a side. She poked his cheeks: he fell on another side. As she realised he had died, Puttanna’s voice was heard: “I’m back from Subramanya. Bring me water. I need to wash my hands and feet.” Feigning innocence, his wife said, “I had made kajjayya and gone out to fetch water. And this man has eaten it and died here. What to do now?” “Don’t worry,” Puttanna said. He brought down a wooden chest from the attic and stuffed the corpse inside. He then said loudly, “I’ve left the chest under the bed. God’s jewels are in it. I’ll need to be away from the village for a while.” It was already dark. Four thieves, who had heard Puttanna, entered the house when Puttakka was asleep and carried the chest away.
The thieves soon discovered the ploy and decided to punish Puttakka for it. They returned to the house and took away the cot on which she had lain asleep. Feeling the cool air on her face, and seeing the stars in the sky above, Puttakka saw what was happening. She clung to a low tree branch as the thieves passed under it. The thieves soon realised that she had outsmarted them. Noticing a mango grove, they felt they should steal a few mangoes.
It turned out that Puttakka had sought safety on top of a mango tree in the same grove. One of the thieves, who climbed up the same tree, saw her. “Who is this woman?” he wondered. “It’s her!” She hushed him, “Look, how about you and I become husband and wife?” He was thrilled. “Ask the others not to come here,” she continued. “Say that Moogchoudi (a forest deity) is here.” He warned his friends from coming anywhere near his tree.
The thief turned to Puttakka, “Okay then. Let us become husband and wife.” She replied, “In our village, when getting married, the tongues of the husband and wife need to touch each other first. Let my tongue touch yours first. And then yours can touch mine.” After her tongue had reached out to his, the delighted thief extended his tongue out towards her mouth. She quickly bit it really hard. The thief fell down screaming in pain. Terrified that Moogchoudi was behind it, the other thieves fled from there carrying their friend along. They haven’t returned since.
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The complex story I have abridged and translated here is folklorist, Ji. Sham. Paramashivaiah’s contribution to Dakshina Karnataka Janapada Kathegalu (Sagar Publishers, 1979), his edited anthology of folktales.