The Boy and the Lake

There once was a little boy named Sebastian, who was fond of wandering and adventures. These wanderings and adventures were his ‘walkabout’. What is a ‘walkabout’? You may ask. That is indeed an interesting question.

It is said that once a child reaches puberty amongst the Australian aborigines, he or she is left free to roam the desert, preferably under the watchful eye of a tribal elder. The child wanders here and there and sees all. The sights become perceptions; the perceptions become observations; and the observations become learning once translated by the elder. As they grow older, the learning is applied to life, and the lessons become wisdom.

Though Sebastian was never left free to roam around, he loved doing it whenever he could. He loved the tall trees and the green mountains and the blue sky filled with the billowing summer clouds. He loved nature and all its wonderful smells.

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Love, Greed and the Elephants’ Graveyard

After a full day of rain in Africa, the sun goes down, hiding behind the majestic purple clouds. The clouds, in turn, gradually disperse to reveal a bluish-black and velvet night sky. It is adorned with small glittering sequins - stars both big and small and stars both near and far.

Whenever it rains in Africa and the night grows dark, the elders sit around the crackling fire, and the children and young people gather around. If the elders are kind and in a good mood, they tell stories of the days gone by and the days that are still far away in the future. Myth and history make love under the night sky, and stories are born - stories of magic and wisdom and stories of love and longing. On one such magical night, the story of the elephants’ graveyard breathed its first.

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The Princess and the Jeweler

It is a story of times long gone by. It is a story from ancient Egypt - long before the time of the Pharaohs, when people still worshipped the old gods. The new gods and religions emerged long after. It is a strange story - a story of souls meeting, drifting apart, and then coming together again, across the thresholds of time and space.

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Katto, the Sad Squirrel (Revised)

Once upon a time, in a jungle far, far away, lived a tiny squirrel named Katto. She was a beautiful squirrel with a silver coat of fur, a long, graceful and bushy tail, and to top it all,  a charming, toothy smile. God had blessed Katto with a heart as lovely as her looks. It was large enough to shame even the heart of an African elephant.

But like all really beautiful things and beings in this world, Katto’s beauty was not perfect. A great flaw marked it as she was totally blind. A great misfortune indeed, but it made no difference to her. She was one happy squirrel, though unaware of her own beauty and charm. Katto lived within a comfy old crack in the trunk of the tallest Oak. This crack had always been her home. There was a bed made of the softest moss and ample storage space for the winter nuts.

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