Dedicated to my wife Kanta the alchemist who just turned my life into a golden masterpiece with her love

and belief in me and to my son Sunny a young wizard who thinks I am the greatest wizard in the whole world and looks up to me as his hero leaving me with no choice but to prove him right! XOXO

Before you read Little Master is a fantastic little tale about discovering your greatness. It is so short you can read it in an hour, but its charm can last for a lifetime. As you read along, youll meet some of the greatest people from history. They are there to help and guide the hero of the story on his magical journey. But you will find that these great people have not been named. See if you can recognize them in the story: Abraham Lincoln Charles Darwin Albert Einstein Thomas Edison Mahatma Gandhi Mother Teresa In the beginning chapters of this book, youll find allusions to two great works of art: the statue of David by Michelangelo and the painting of The Starry Night by van Gogh. The story of course doesnt mention their names. Maybe youll identify them anyway, or maybe not. Test yourself. In the eighth chapter, our hero finds himself amidst some of the wonders of early human civilization: the Pyramids Stonehenge maoi of Easter Island the Great Wall of China

Again, you wont find these landmarks named in the story. It is for you to find out which one is which. And at some point in the story, youll be reminded of these famous lines by TS Eliot: We shall not cease from exploration, and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time. Neither will you see these lines nor will you find Eliots name mentioned in the story. Youll just feel it and know it when youve reached that point in the story. Youll come across lots of other references and allusions throughout the story of Little Master. Here are some that you cant miss: magma cosmic dance of Shiva Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven Four Seasons by Vivaldi Kolkata an Indian city Leisure by WH Davis universal form of Krishna Paleolithic man the North Star phonograph E=MC2 Be sure to mark them when you come across them. Do pause and ponder over them. They will make your reading of Little Master all the more enriching.

Let this splendid tale of human greatness delight your heart and ignite your soul. Happy reading.

Contents 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. The colored folder An angel in the rock A masterpiece Pearls of wisdom A strange communication The great dance of life A new world calling Dreaming the stars What a teacher!

10. Meeting a funny genius 11. Lessons from a charming wizard 12. The greatest healers in the world 13. The secret of a peaceful warrior 14. The mother of love and the call of the heart 15. The present 16. In the secret garden

1 The colored folder Once, not so long ago and in a land not very far from where we live today, there lived a little boy. Like the other boys and girls of his age, he liked to play games and chase butterflies. But unlike many of them, he wanted to go to school. Now this was strange because schools in those days were not really joyful places of learning. Young boys and girls went to school every morning with books on their backs and fear in their hearts. They sat in narrow benches in crowded classrooms and learned things that made no sense to them. Parents sent them to learn. Teachers told them to learn. People asked them how much they learned. Sadly, nobody taught them how to learn. Nobody showed them why it was important to learn what they were learning. Nobody told them that they had greatness in them. They returned home in the evening with books on their backs, fear in their hearts and tear in their eyes. So why did the little boy want to go to school? "Go to school and get good grades," said his father, who wanted the very best for his son. "Then find a job and make a living." "When you were born, I saw in your eyes a lovely spark," said his mother, looking deep into his eyes. "I see the same spark in your eyes today. Only it is much brighter now. Let it glow, son."

She looked even deeper into his eyes. And then she blessed him. "May you shine with the brightness of a thousand stars!" She knew, as mothers always do, that her little boy was no ordinary boy. He was born to be great. He would not only win bread for his family but bring glory to this world. "You'll surely be a rock star," said some of his friends and neighbors. They saw that he had a special fascination for rocks. He even had a unique collection of them. He proudly displayed them in one corner of his room and invited everyone he met to come and have a look. To his utter delight, some of them seemed to like it. There were white rocks, black rocks, speckled rocks, jagged rocks, sparkling rocks, and rocks with strange images on them. They were all pretty rocks. Often he marveled at the beauty and variety of his own collection and wondered. He somehow liked the idea of being a rock star. Then one day he met some travelers at the river, where he was looking for rocks. They were pretty impressed by the rare passion of this little boy. "Perhaps you'd want to be a geologist when you grow up," said one of the travelers to him. A geologist? He learned from them that a geologist was someone who studied about rocks among other things. It was a fascinating subject to study. I think I'd like to be a geologist, he decided. Yes, a geologist. That's what I want to be.

And that meant going to school. "I'm smart and I can learn anything," he said thoughtfully, and he felt proud of himself. If going to school meant he was going to be a geologist some day, then that was what he was going to do. And so the little boy went to school. And very soon he forgot about being a geologist. There were books to read, homework to do, notes to write, tests to take.... There was no time for rocks anymore. "Here's your progress report," said his teacher one day handing him a colored folder. The tone of her voice didnt sound very appealing, and this made him uneasy. He knew what the folder contained the papers he had written, grades he had earned, whether he had passed or failed. Had he failed? His heart sank at the thought, and his face grew pale instantly. He knew what it meant to fail. It was to qualify for unkindness and shame at school. It was to bring disgrace to family at home. He took the folder in his hands and looked pleadingly into his teacher's eyes. Her eyes flared. Then he heard a voice scream: "You are doomed!"

2 An angel in the rock Everyone knows today that if you fail a test, it doesnt mean that you are a failure. It just means that you got a result. Tests can be taken again and results can be changed. You are worth a lot more than any test or result, and you can't let such things dictate your value. But the little boy didnt know this and nobody told him. Sad, confused, full of guilt and in pain, the little boy walked home that evening. No, not home. Feeling worthless and clutching the colored folder in his hand, he was heading down the road that didnt lead to his home. His head was down and his steps were heavy. He walked on for a long, long time. When he finally stopped and looked around, he found himself at the river. It was the same river where he used to come to collect rocks so frequently in the past. He looked at its flowing water and at the banks. They seemed lonely, just like him. The little boy sat down under a boulder and gave a long, heavy sigh. Then he stared at the moving currents. He sat there staring, for a very, very long time. Suddenly, something dazzling shone in his eyes. Then he saw it. A beautiful little rock, half buried in sand, shining brightly just two feet away from where he sat. The boy's eyes widened and they sparkled with delight. He reached out and took the little rock in his hands. A beautiful smile played on his lips as his hands gently played with the rock.

"Pretty rock, isnt it?" he heard someone say. The little boy looked around. He saw a young boy sitting on the boulder behind him. He was looking eagerly at the shiny rock that he had in his hands. "Is it yours?" the little boy asked, holding the rock towards the stranger. "No, you saw it first, so that makes it yours," said the newcomer. Then he jumped off the boulder and stood in front of the little boy. This new boy was about the same age as the little boy. But he looked very different; in fact, he looked rather strange. His face glowed brightly, much like the rock that the little boy had found. His hair was golden; not just golden it looked as though it was made of gold. He spoke sweetly and he was always smiling. Then the little boy realized that this strange boy didnt jump off the boulder at all. He swiftly flew from there and landed in front of him. No, he didnt even fly. He just vanished from the top of the boulder and appeared right before him, in a flash! "Wow! How did you do that?" the little boy asked with surprise. The new boy seemed to know what the little boy wanted to know. He said, much happily, "I'm glad you noticed. That's the way I usually move around. Isnt it exciting?" The answer had to be yes. The new boy further said that he could go to any place at any time he liked and as fast or as slow as he wanted to. All he needed to do was to

be sure of where he wanted to go and how soon he wanted to get there. The little boy wasnt surprised; he was fascinated. He wanted to know more. So the new boy began: "Where I come from." "Where do you come from?" the little boy interrupted excitedly. "I knew you werent from here, or from anywhere on earth." "I live just across the river," the new boy began again, "and there...." He stopped again because he saw that the little boy wasnt very pleased. "Nobody lives across the river," the little boy said, looking serious. "There are just rocks, cliffs and hills as far as you can see. Nobody even crosses the river. It's too big and there's no bridge. You can't live there." "See friend," the new boy explained, still smiling, "you dont see something doesnt mean that it isnt there. I live across the river and, believe it or not, it's a truly wonderful place. It's a place of all possibilities." The little boy was getting curious again. The new boy told him of the marvelous place that he came from. There you didnt have to go to school every day and you didnt have to work for a living. You could learn anything from anyone and you could do what you most loved to do. You could make magic with the flick of a wish and you could live the life of your dreams. It was a land of freedom and choices. Exploration and discovery were the rules. Imagination and creativity were the tools. Love was the language. Everyone followed their passion and lived up to their true genius.

The new boy said that he was a geologist. The little boy was truly glad to hear that, though he found it rather hard to believe that one could be a geologist at such a young age. But as he thought of the fact that the boy had come from the land of all possibilities, he kept quiet. "But I'm not only a geologist," said the new boy. "I sell some of the rocks that I collect, usually the odd and the colorful ones that people like. So that makes me a business person. "I'm an artist too. I join rocks together to make things of beauty. I draw and paint on them. I use them for my creative expression." At this point, the new boy stopped speaking and looked around the riverbank curiously. Then he pointed to a rock nearby and asked: "What do you see?" "A rock," said the little boy plainly. "A fairly big rock." "I see an angel," the new boy said. "Where?" asked the little boy, quite surprised. There was no angel there. All he could see was a stark naked rock. "Chip away the rock and you'll see the angel." The new boy had barely said this when the little boy saw him eagerly chiseling at the rock. Where did he get the chisel and the hammer from? The little boy wondered, naturally. "A master always carries his tools," said the new boy. The little boy was satisfied with the answer. He quietly watched as the new boy worked. Then he rubbed his eyes. He couldn't believe what he saw.

There, in front of his eyes, stood an imposing figure of an angel where minutes ago there was only a rock. "Unbelievable!" he gasped looking at the statue. It was breathtakingly beautiful. "How...?" he asked. "Do not be so surprised, my friend," said the new boy in a loving voice. "The angel was already there in the rock, wanting to break free, to be born. All I did was play the role of a sculptor." "That's all right. But how could you do it so fast?" "It wasn't fast at all. It took me five years to make it." "Five years? It took you less than five minutes." "It may seem to you like five minutes of accomplishment," the new boy responded. "But come to think of it. I have given it no less than five years of practice. In fact, I have given my life to it. "You see, I'm always a student. I'm always practicing and perfecting, and studying all I can about rocks. I learn from books, I learn from teachers, and I learn from rocks themselves. "And I am a teacher. Just ask me and all I've known in so many years is yours in a moment. But of course you'll have to ask me about rocks," said the new boy, chuckling like a child. "I'm glad I can follow what is truly my passion," he concluded, and offered the little boy a piece of advice: "You should try rocks sometimes." The little boy wasnt sure whether he wanted to be a geologist anymore. He had almost forgotten about it. But now he could again feel the passion building up inside

him. His love of rocks, which had been only a flicker, was now turning into a flame. A stranger from a strange land had just added the fuel. But the little boy kept the flame to himself. He didnt tell his friend that he collected rocks. He wasnt prepared. But his heart was burning now. To be able to follow your passion and not worry about anything else! It sounded too good to be true. He looked across the river and his eyes surveyed the horizon. Then he turned his gaze towards the golden-haired boy who could be his savior. The new boy smiled and nodded. Then he said, "You can't see from this side what's really there on the other side. There's a world of its own, a marvelous world." He said that what separated them and that land of magic was just a river. Would you like to visit there?asked the new boy. All you need to do is cross this river. "But the river is huge," the little boy protested. "You just can't go across it. It's impossible. Well, maybe you can, but not me." Then he became aware that no one he knew had ever tried to cross that river. No one had thought about even building a bridge on it. He was surprised why not. "Have you ever tried it?" asked the new boy looking straight into his eyes. The little boy admitted that he hadnt. The little boy then thought deeply. If what this strange kid says is true, then he might as well give it a try. A magical land of all possibilities. Surely worth a visit.

He looked at the huge river swirling in front of him. Then he gave his friend a thumbs-up to let him know that he was ready to take the plunge.

3 A masterpiece The little boy stood up excitedly. But as he did so, something from his lap dropped on the sand. It was the colored folder. Both the boys looked at it and then at each other. The little boy grew pale. He wished he were dead at that moment. He bent down, nervously, to pick it up. But the folder wasn't there anymore. The new boy had already picked it up and was going through its contents. There was seriousness on his face as he flipped through the folder. Then the muscles on his bright face twitched. Then he grinned a little and then giggled. Finally he burst into a peal of laughter. All this happened so quickly that the little boy didnt know how to react. He looked helplessly at the crazy antics of this stranger. He was ashamed, confused and angry all at the same time. The new boy continued to thunder with laughter. He laughed so loud that the little boy felt the ground beneath his feet shake and the sky above his head spin. Go ahead and laugh, thought the little boy desperately. You think I am a dunce, right? That I am, and I dont care what you think. The new boy stopped laughing as suddenly as he had started. Now he was looking at something in the folder that made his eyes grow wide. His bright face became serious again.

"Marvelous!" he exclaimed suddenly, startling the little boy. The light on his face shone even brighter than before. "Ingenious!" he exclaimed louder. "This is truly the work of a genius. "Did you draw this?" the new boy turned towards the little boy and asked, showing a drawing of a scene that was clipped inside the folder. The little boy didnt answer. He was still in shock. "This is a work of superb imagination," the new boy said glowing brightly. He continued to praise the drawing. He admired its concept, contours, and color choice. He said the drawing expressed joy and freedom. The little boy finally spoke. "Do you think so?" he asked incredulously. "Look," said the new boy, and the little boy looked at his own drawing. There were as many red marks, circles and crosses from the teacher's pen as there were strokes from his own pencil. "Well, isnt it splendid?" The little boy couldn't see what was so splendid about his work. He said: "I didnt get any grade for this drawing. It was disqualified." "Oh, dont bother about that," the new boy consoled him. "Probably your teacher didnt see what you saw. That happens sometimes. What's important is to know that what you've done is the best because you have truly given it your best. No one can know the value your masterpiece more than yourself."

There was a moment of silence as both of them looked at the drawing with great concentration. The conversation started again with the new boy speaking first. "Could you explain why the tree isnt green but fiery red?" It was the drawing of a giant red tree towering into the night sky. "That's because it's coming from the core of the earth where it is nourished by the fire of love." "How splendidly it's lighting the world at night! And it's so tall it's kissing the stars in the sky." "Well, I dont know. I just felt the tree shouldnt be limited to a certain height." "Indeed, my friend. No one should be limited in any way by anything. We're all unlimited, just like this tree. To look as far as you can, to grow as tall as you can, and to spread your roots as deep and wide as you can that's the secret of life. Perhaps that's what your tree means." "This tree is also a bridge from our planet to the entire galaxy," the little boy added. He was now beaming with joy. "Yes, the entire galaxy, or maybe the whole universe," the new boy said happily and loudly he was almost shouting. "Look at this group of stars that you've drawn in the corner. They have such a fabulous pattern. They could be from another galaxy altogether." The little boy looked at the faint cluster he had drawn in the corner and smiled. Now he was beginning to see some hidden part of himself. This new discovery filled him with happiness and pride. He could feel the cells in his body bubbling with bliss.

4 Pearls of wisdom But the laughter. What about it? If the boy thought he was a genius, then why did he have to laugh? What was he laughing at? The little boy asked. The other boy didn't answer. Instead, he started laughing again. He began flipping through the pages in the folder and laughed even louder. The little boy wished he hadnt asked. "Look at all this. Isnt it worth a good laugh?" the new boy said pointing at the mistakes the little boy had made in his answers. He was still laughing. Then he turned towards the little boy and explained that he wasnt laughing at him or his work. He was laughing at his mistakes. He said: "It's a good thing to laugh at your mistakes. If you dont, then they will laugh at you and torment you. Look at your mistakes in the eye and laugh, and watch how they turn into pearls of wisdom." The little boy was quiet for a long time as if he was dumbfounded by what he had just heard. He had never learned to see mistakes in this way. It astonished him to think that mistakes could be very valuable. The only folly, he quickly realized, was to make the same mistake again. He looked at the golden-haired boy who was now gently smiling at him. He had heard about alchemists and wizards. Could he be one? He had just turned a rock into an angel and mistakes into priceless jewels. He had

transformed his rejected drawing into a map of the universe. And he had promised to take him to the extraordinary land on the other side of the river. "Who are you?" he wanted to ask, but he saw that the new boy had begun to laugh again. Then they both laughed. They looked at each mistake and laughed. They turned and twisted the mistakes, they cut them open and sewed them up, and laughed. They laughed at consonants and decimals and ideas and concepts at everything that had somehow gone wrong. They laughed until their jaws and bellies ached and tear clouded their eyes. When they stopped laughing, the little boy realized that he had to go home. "It's getting late and my parents will be worried," he said, hurriedly getting ready to go. Then he asked his new friend, "What about you? What time do you have to get home?" "I've been away for two weeks. Maybe I'll be home a week later." The little boy found this answer so curious that he forgot about going home and sat down again. "That's three weeks!" he said. "It's a long time. Have you run away from home?" The little boy looked truly concerned. "Oh, no!" his friend laughed. "There's no need to run away. I can go anywhere anytime I like. There are no rules." "No rules!" the little boy almost screamed. His eyes were wide open and so was his mouth.

"Yes, no rules. But there's love. When you operate with love, there is no need of rules. Love is such a great force. It's a discipline of the highest order." The new boy tried to explain that his parents love him so much that they can let him go. Love knows how to release and let go. It's fear that wants to restrict and withhold. The little boy wasnt sure whether he understood. He wanted to know something else now. "Where have you been the last two weeks?" he asked. "I've been everywhere that you can possibly think of." "Doing what?" "Rocks, of course. You can never complete your study of rocks. There's so much to learn and do." "Dont you have to go to school?" The new boy chuckled, and then said kindly, "The whole world is a school and everyone is a teacher. All it takes is your willingness to learn." "You're so lucky. All you do is learn about rocks. You dont have to learn spellings, or algebra, or." The new boy stopped him short, and said: "Whoever told you that these things are not important? Spellings are as important to a rock star as they are to a writer or a rocket scientist. Or a geologist or a biologist. "I need to understand every subject to understand rocks. Language, mathematics, science, history, sociology, accounting, marketing, everything." He paused, and then spoke again with a special firmness in his voice. He said:

"When you dont learn for a test, then you learn for life. The more things you learn, the richer your life gets, and the fuller you get to live it." The little boy listened silently. He was beginning to understand now. Whenever he wanted to know something or learn something new, he learned it with almost no effort. It was only when. Then, in a flash, he knew it. Yes, the sheer joy of learning! That's it! The wonder and the magic of it! Learning doesnt have to be difficult at all it can't be difficult. The same way I learned to walk and talk and laugh and play, I will learn everything else. I can learn. I want to learn. He shouted, within himself, with sheer delight. He felt powerful and free.

5 A strange communication The new boy was smiling. It was clear from the expression in his eyes that he felt happy for the little boy. Both the boys then sat happily watching the river flow. Now and then they threw a pebble or two at the hungry waves. The waves seemed to devour the pebbles and to ask for more. The little boy picked up a rather large stone and hurled it at a nearby wave. Suddenly, out of nowhere, there was a bright flash of lightning. The little boy was pleasantly startled. But he noticed that his friend was unusually silent he neither spoke, nor did he move. Only his eyes flashed and flickered. Then the little boy noticed something truly out of the ordinary. The new boy's body was covered with a sheath of golden light. He looked awesome. Then, suddenly, the new boy smiled. The little boy returned his smile, but he soon realized that his friend wasnt smiling at him. The new boy kept smiling for a long time, looking nowhere. It was the most extraordinary smile that the little boy had ever seen on anyone's lips bright, pleasant and mysterious. The little boy watched in amazement. He felt a strange kind of love and safety in the presence of this unworldly being whoever he was.

Then the golden light faded and disappeared from the stranger's body. He moved, and he was still smiling. This time he was definitely smiling at the little boy. So the little boy flashed a smile back at him a bright smile it was. Curiosity was killing the little boy now. Who is this mysterious stranger? The question bulged like a balloon inside him. It could burst any time. If he delayed, it could even explode and shatter him to pieces. So he asked: "Who are you?" "I'm whatever you call me," the new boy said simply, almost in a whisper, flashing another mysterious smile. The little boy didnt look satisfied with the answer. He asked again: "Who are you really? Are you a genie or something?" The new boy replied with a knowing smile: "As I said, I'm whatever you call me. Call me a genie and I can grant you three wishes. Call me an angel and I'll give you wings to fly. Call me a devil and I'll send you to hell. But call me a friend and give me your love, and I'm yours forever." The little boy wasn't looking for this kind of cryptic answers. So he dug for more: "What was all that business with the flashing lights?" "Oh, that?" the new boy laughed. "I was talking with my mother." "Talking?" the little boy asked, more surprised than ever. Rather than comfort him with his answers, the stranger was making him more desperately curious. "You were not talking at all. I was watching you all the while."

"Oh, you dont need words to talk," the new boy remarked. "We were using the language of love, of thought, of knowledge. Yes, the light it was my mother's way of telling me how much she adores me. Generally we dont use lights it's only between my mother and me." The little boy was finding it all too strange to believe. But he was ready to listen. So the new boy continued: "There are more ways to see the world than with the eyes, and there are more ways to communicate than with the words. You will discover everything if you explore. You could even discover that you have a hundred senses rather than just five." A hundred senses? Imagine what you could do with all of them! Too good to be true, thought the little boy. Then he thought about his own mother. She still didnt know how to communicate with flashes of light and she must be getting worried. He immediately got up to go. "Oh, dont worry about your mother," the new boy said to him. "What do you mean?" the little boy asked. The other boy knew what he was thinking and this wasnt the first time. The little boy felt rather uneasy and looked at the stranger, waiting for an answer. "My mother's already told her that you are with me, and she thinks it's OK." The little boy stared at him for a while, with shock clearly visible in his eyes. Then he spoke: "Your mother, I mean, my mother, she doesnt even know." He wasnt getting the right words to finish the sentence, but the new boy seemed to know what he was trying to say.

The new boy said, "Mothers have a language of their own. They can understand each other and their children all too well. Mothers are the master communicators of the universe." The little boy shrugged, and then smiled. He didnt know what to say. He somehow liked to believe this stranger who was becoming more than just a friend. He was entering his very soul as if he always belonged there. "By the way," said the new boy, halting the little boy's train of thought, "my mother thinks you're cute and she sends you love." The little boy laughed. A cute, innocent laugh. "Well, how about visiting her sometime?" asked the new boy, trying to arouse the little boy's interest. "How about now?" "Now?" "Yes." "But I'll be late for home." "No, we'll be gone and we'll be back in a flash. You won't even know any time has passed." "How come? Is it that near?" "Very near. Just across the river. It's such a fantastic place that you won't even want to come back." The little boy could have ignored the place, but he couldn't ignore the invitation of a good friend. Something told him that he could trust him. After all, the angel in the rock, the meaning of the drawing, the laughing at the mistakes.... He had taught him so much. He could be his guide!

The little boy decided to follow him. "Good!" said the new boy who always seemed to be able to read the little boy's thoughts. Then they both went closer to the river, to its very edge. The little boy was both excited and fearful.

6 The great dance of life The two boys stood at the river's edge. The river swirled in front of them it rustled and it rumbled. It flowed incessantly, gathering more speed and power along the way. It never stopped, it never faltered. The little boy watched in awe the mighty force of the river. The river didnt bother about who was watching. As one might expect from a river, it never worries about things, especially about things like who is watching or how it is going to make it to the ocean. When it hits a boulder, it doesnt stop to cry and curse; rather it bounces over it. When a hill blocks its way, it doesnt stop and stagnate there; instead, it makes a way around it. Surely and certainly. That's the way of the river. "Do you know why this is so?" The little boy had a strange feeling that the river was speaking to him. It had a deep, sonorous voice. "This is because I know where I am going," the voice boomed. It was certainly the voice of the river. "I know who I am," it thundered. "I am the ocean. I knew it even when I was born. I knew it when I was only a trickle of water under a boulder in the mountains. When you know your own greatness, petty things lose their sting." A log went tumbling down.

The river whistled and roared as it flowed. The little boy bowed to the river, almost involuntarily. "Do you know how to swim?" It was not the river this time. It was his friend speaking. But the little boy didn't hear him. He was lost in the river. He couldnt believe the river had spoken to him. The river knew where it was going. It knew it was the ocean and it was taking the journey to meet with itself. The little boy now began to think about himself. What about me? Where am I going? What is my greatness? He wondered, looking at the dancing waves of the river. Then something inside him wanted to dance too. The little boy had a feeling that something inside him was trying to break out, to be born. Suddenly, with no effort of his own, his body started swinging. His feet felt light and bouncy. It felt as though he would soon spread his wings and fly. The little boy looked around him. Everything around him was dancing. He looked up at the sky and he saw there an amazing sight. Countless birds of all feathers were taking part in a most spectacular dance. They were flying high and low, and they were flying far and near. There was perfect rhythm in their flight and there was perfect pattern in their dance. The little boy felt a wild thrill in his body. He had a compelling urge to participate in the dance. Then, almost on impulse, he spread out his hands and raised one of his legs. He tiptoed on the other leg and swung around. Three

rounds he made, then he bounced lightly on both his feet and started dancing. He danced with joy and abandonment on that lonely riverbank. He danced to the rhythm of the river, the whistle of the wind, the music of the moonlight, and the symphony of the seasons. The more he danced the more joyous he felt. He felt freer than the birds and mightier than the ocean. He felt that he was growing taller than the mountains and he was glowing brighter than the sun itself. As he danced away, the little boy felt that he was losing himself. He had a curious feeling that he was becoming the dance itself. Anyone who has danced this way certainly knows how it feels. Or anyone who has sung, or played, or painted, or climbed, or swum, or designed, or built knows exactly how it feels to lose oneself in what one is doing. You become one with it. That's the way you express the true desire of your heart. That's the way you create amazing things. That's how you give birth to your masterpiece. You lose yourself to find your own greatness. Did the little boy find his greatness? What was it?

7 A new world calling When he stopped dancing, the little boy found himself in a completely different place and time. He had crossed the river! In fact, he had crossed a thousand other rivers as well. He had left behind uncountable mountains and valleys. He had traversed forests and deserts. He had even traveled across centuries and millenniums. He had pierced through the heart of time. What a dance that was! He was now in the home of a great scientist who lived in a dark cave in a dense jungle on the other side of the planet. He was hairy, ugly and shamelessly naked. No, not the little boy, but this scientist. The little boy thought that he was lucky because he had reached there at the precise moment. He was just in time to witness a profound discovery. The hairy fellow had just sharpened a little rock and he was now examining it with care and curiosity. Then, all of a sudden, he let out a deep roar and started jumping. He was wild with joy. He had in his hands the first great invention of the human race the stone tool! As you might have guessed, the little boy had reached some two and a half million years back in time. It was a time when human beings lived in caves and roamed the jungle in search of food, which they ate raw. You are right they were hairy and shamelessly naked. Ugly? Well, we

may call them so, but let's not forget that they found one another beautiful. The little boy watched in wonder and amazement. Here he was face to face with his distant ancestor who was a genius of his time. Impressive! The little boy wanted to congratulate him for his breakthrough. He also wanted to thank him for his contribution. He smiled and bowed to him. He didnt know how else to honor this remarkable innovator from the ancient times. But this master of the stone tool didn't pay any heed to the little boy. He was busy celebrating. He was jumping, dancing, hopping, flopping, roaring, growling doing all sorts of crazy things. He had no time for compliments. The little boy watched him for sometime more. Then he stood silently some distance away from the cave trying to figure out how he arrived there. But a strange cacophony of sounds shook him out of his thoughts. It was a flock of geese flying over his head cackling. They were making a journey to a warmer place for the winter. The little boy looked at the birds and at himself. Then he realized something very special about him. He could fly too! Could he fly just like the birds? No, better than the birds. The difference was that the birds were limited in their flight by the span of their wings and the range of their vision. They could only fly a certain height and a certain distance, and they could fly no more than a certain speed.

The boy, on the other hand, could fly on the wings of thought. There were no limitations to how high or how far or how fast he could travel. He could go anywhere he liked at any time he wanted and at any speed he desired. The boy felt a deep sense of freedom as he realized this new capability of his. "How free I am!" he exclaimed, and he felt truly magnificent! As the birds were vanishing behind the clouds, the little boy wished them a safe journey and a warm home. He also silently thanked them, for he knew it was the birds that had fired his imagination for flight. They too were his teachers. The little boy then turned around and looked towards the horizon in front of him. It was shining brightly with golden light. The light flickered playfully now and then, turning itself into a beautiful rainbow of colors. The boy knew intuitively that the light was calling him. It was the light from a new world where the boy's future was waiting for him. It was a world where learning was spontaneous and love was abundant, and it was inviting him to come. "If that's the place where I am supposed to be in, then why did I land up here?" the boy asked himself. No sooner had he asked the question then he got the answer. The answer came from his future: "So that you do not forget your roots," it said. His future also reminded him that the castles built for him there have been made from the stones from his past.

The boy smiled and a golden radiance shone on his lips. He was already beginning to get the taste of his future. The very next moment he would be in a new world. A world of magic and miracles. The very thought of it filled him with excitement. "All I need to do is take one swift flight, and I'll be there," he said delightedly. And he took a long, deep breath. He concentrated on his breath as it went down to his lungs and from there into every organ, tissue and cell of his body. He felt refreshed, renewed and rebuilt. In that instant he realized how powerful one breath of air could be. He thought of the thousands of breaths he must have taken until now. Each of those breaths was a breath of life and he wasnt even aware of it! "How foolish it is to have life and not know about it!" he said to himself. Then he took several nourishing breaths. Then he looked at the brightly glowing horizon again. "I'm coming," he said and immediately took off in that direction.

8 Dreaming the stars One split second of flight and he stopped. He just wanted to see where he had reached. Had he reached his destination? Surely not. It was too short a flight. The little boy saw that he was still on earth there was no mistaking it. But he had left the age of the caveman far behind. Looking around, he noticed that here people didn't use stone tools; they used stones to make wonders. The little boy saw wonders and marvels all around him. His soul leapt with joy. He went near some of these wonders and marvels to see and feel them closely. "It'll take just a moment," he told himself. "Then I'll be off again." He first stood among the towering mounds of glittering stones. They were the majestic pyramids that sparkled in the golden sun. The little boy was captivated by their ageless beauty. Then it was the megaliths that took his breath away. They were the largest rocks he had ever seen and they stood in circles, tall and proud. They played with the shadows and they danced in the rain. Further away, he saw gigantic statues meditating on a tiny island. There were hundreds of them. He wondered what mysterious hands could have placed them there.

What human hands they were and what human brains! The makers of these wonders surely had a vision that went beyond the horizon. They were dreamers. The little boy wanted to dream too. He climbed up onto a wall nearby and sat down there. It was a long great wall, beautifully built with stones, stretching as far as the eyes could see. Sitting there comfortably, he looked up at the sky. The sun was leaving after a long day's work. A few stars had already appeared and they were playing hide and seek. "That's what they do when the sun's away," the little boy said to himself and chuckled a little. And then he began to dream, looking at the stars, with his eyes half open. His friends, whom he had left behind, joined him there and they too began looking at the stars. "The stars are beautiful, arent they?" the little boy said to them. "Indeed, they are," his friends replied without taking their gaze off the sky. Suddenly, the sky looked unusually bright. There was a flurry of flashes and blinks all over the sky. It seemed the stars were in celebration of some kind. Then the little boy and his friends a jolly group of boys and girls heard whispers and giggles up in the sky. "We are beautiful! They think we are beautiful!" It was the stars whispering among themselves. Then a bright old star in the northern sky blinked merrily at the boys and girls as if it was trying to get their attention. When they looked at it, it simply said: "Thank you for making us beautiful." The other stars immediately

broke into a beautiful chorus. "Thank you for making us beautiful!" they sang. The little boy was thunderstruck, and so were his friends. "We... how do we... make you beautiful?" the little boy asked in great surprise and disbelief. "You are stars and we're just human, young and little." The stars continued to sing. "You are made of the same stuff that we are made of. Yet you are more than the stars. It is you who make us twinkle." "Wow!" exclaimed the boys and girls in unison. "How do we do that?" The wise old star of the north winked heartily at them and said: "We are stars because you call us so. We twinkle because you look at us. We dance with joy for you think we are beautiful. If it weren't for you, we'd just be balls of fire, dust and gas." The old star then joined its billions of little friends in the merrymaking. They were all frisking and frolicking and turning the sky into a heaven of lights. The little boy and his friends continued to look at the marvelous night sky for some more time. Now they had a new reason to look there: to make the stars beautiful, to get them to twinkle. They even made new stars appear in different parts of the sky. The little boy was still dreaming when a star came shooting down from the sky directly towards him at an unbelievable speed. He watched it delightfully until it came so close in front of him that he trembled.

He was now wide awake. The star vanished into thin air right in front of his eyes. It was a shooting star. It had come to herald the beginning of a new day. The little boy then looked around expectantly, but his friends weren't there. Of course he had been dreaming. What a pleasant dream that was! "Imagine making the stars beautiful!" the little boy chuckled remembering the dream. Then immediately he straightened himself. "What if it's true?" he thought. It could be true. It could be true that the beauty we see around us is really our own beauty reflected back to us. It could be true that how we see other people is really how we are. It could be true that when we call someone ugly or stupid, we are really calling that to ourselves. "It could be true!" said the little boy and grinned heartily. He felt happy that he had taken a moment to dream. The dream had given him a new way to look at things. He felt that he now had one more eye one that could see things unseen. He then decided to resume his flight. He couldn't wait to meet his future. It was shining bright and golden just around the horizon. It was waiting for him there with open arms. The little boy spread his wings, sorry thoughts, and lifted off.

9 What a teacher! He had barely even disappeared from there when... "Wait!" a voice thundered. The little boy froze right there. It took a moment for him collect himself. Then he realized, much to his own surprise, that it wasn't a voice from anywhere outside. It had come from within him. It was his own voice. "What is it?" he asked himself. "Why should I stop?" "Because you can't just reach there empty-handed!" his inner voice warned him. "When you reach your future's door and your future asks, 'What have you brought for me?' what will you say? Shouldn't you take something, maybe a gift or two?" "How right you are!" agreed the little boy. But he didn't know what gifts to take. And where would he find them? "Along the way!" he heard another voice. "You'll find them along the way. On the journey." It was the voice of his own future. It seemed that even his future didn't want him to come there empty-handed. The little boy understood what his inner voice and his future were really trying to tell him. They wanted him to see what he could see and learn what he could learn along the way. They didn't want him to reach the new world in a quick flight, missing everything on the way.

"Indeed," thought the little boy, "how fruitless it would be to reach your destination and miss the journey!" He decided to take the journey and to enjoy it too. For he might not travel this way again. Just at that moment, the little boy became aware that there were some people close by. He looked around and caught sight of two young boys. He found these boys so strange that he couldnt help but stand there and stare at them for a moment. Seen with ordinary eyes, there was nothing special about these boys. They looked just ordinary. In fact, one looked a little ugly and the other rather clumsy. One walked miles away from his home looking for books to borrow and read, and the other strayed around his home studying bugs and butterflies. The little boy watched them with fascination. "You should be chopping wood rather than reading books," he heard people say to the first one. "Don't forget that you are a poor lad who lives in a log cabin. That's what you are and that's what you will be." The little boy suppressed his laugh hearing their comments. Then he waited to hear what they had to say to the next one. They said: "Read books and forget about bugs. Remember your class, your noble birth. Do what your family has always done and be what they want you to be." The little boy was glad that these two little heroes followed their passion and pursued their dreams no matter what people said. He knew who they would grow up to be.

We know too, don't we? The ugly-looking one grew up to be a champion of freedom and removed the ugliness of slavery from his land. "Everyone's equal and everyone's great," he said, and lived by this principle all his life. The clumsy-looking one became a messenger of nature and taught the world about her secrets. "Be fit or be extinct," he said boldly, and who would dare disobey him! Weve read about them in our history and science books, havent we? Now, while the little boy was looking at these two boys, strange questions began to pop up in his mind. What if, he thought, what if people knew who these boys were going to be in the future? Would they behave with them differently? How would their own parents and teachers treat these boys if they knew they were in fact two great visionaries growing up in their care? As he was playing with these questions, the little boy remembered his own teacher. Perhaps she had the answers. He wanted to meet her once. "Where could she be now?" he asked, and looked around searchingly. Then he slapped his forehead. "I dont really have to look for her to find her," he said to himself laughingly. "I could meet her anywhere I like." He decided to meet her in a garden. And there she was a pretty woman in a lovely garden! So close to him. He could almost smell her. As in any garden, there were bugs and butterflies here. A butterfly came and sat on the teacher's hand. She gently

shook her hand and the butterfly fluttered away. She waved at it as it joined its friends. The little boy was watching all this intently. The teacher became aware of it suddenly and she flushed a little. Then she looked at him adoringly and smiled at him sweetly. The boy's heart skipped a beat. He smiled back at her happily, though he looked more nervous than happy. His face was crimson. "I know what you are thinking," the teacher said to him. The boy's face turned from crimson to pale. Then, suddenly, he blinked hard and gaped at her. He realized that she had just spoken to him without even moving her lips! "That's incredible!" he thought. "Incredible, but true," said his teacher without speaking. Her lips were weaving a beautiful smile. No word was spoken. Yet the boy could hear her loud and clear. He could hear her thoughts and she could hear his. They were talking to each other with thoughts. The boy found it all quite amazing. "It is indeed amazing, isn't it?" the teacher said with a pleasing smile. "Each of these butterflies was once a wiggly, ugly caterpillar. It had no idea that one day it would be a butterfly. It had never thought in its wildest dreams that it would grow wings and take off into the skies." The boy looked puzzled. He had expected the teacher would tell him something else.

Then he noticed that they were not alone in that garden. The teacher had brought her whole class there, and they were all gathered around her. He was not the only one there seeking her attention. How does a creepy little creature turn into a flying beauty overnight without even knowing about it? They all wanted to know the secret. "The caterpillar has no choice at all," the teacher revealed, "but to become a butterfly. It's the design of nature." Just then one of her students spotted a caterpillar on a leaf and cried out. Everyone crowded around it as if it were a celebrity and they wanted an autograph. The boys and girls kept watching the caterpillar and the butterflies for sometime. They looked with fascination as the caterpillar munched at a leaf and the butterflies relished the nectar. "But you are not caterpillars!" the teacher thundered, all of a sudden. Everyone turned to look at her. They were not surprised at all, rather they were all very eager. Eager to hear what she had to say and eager to see what she had to show. The boys and girls looked at their teacher with hungry eyes and craving hearts. She too looked deep into their eyes and peered into their throbbing hearts. Their eyes were lovely. She had a wild desire to draw a picture on the canvas of those eyes. She knew she could draw and paint anything that she liked there. She could

freely paint the scenes of a deadly past and a gloomy future. But then, she decided to splash them with the colors of life. Now their hearts. She always had a free access into their hearts. She knew their hearts were as large as the world itself. Yet they were so fragile she could burst them with one piercing word. So she chose to build them up. Such is the power of a teacher! "You are heroes and champions, geniuses and giants," she declared, and her words echoed. "Shine, my little stars, shine. You have enough brightness in you to illuminate the whole world." To the little boy, the teacher's words were like a bolt of lightning. He got a pleasant shock and he shivered. That was when he realized that he had been imagining things. There was no teacher, no garden, no butterflies. It was all his imagination. "Everything's possible in imagination," the little boy said to himself wistfully. What a teacher she was! She saw her students as who they could be in life. And they saw her as an angel. What a way to see each other! It pinched the little boy's heart to think that he had to come all the way here to be able to imagine these possibilities. He sighed and then looked at the colorful display of lights at the horizon. He felt happy that he would soon be there. In a place and time more magical than dream itself. Where everything was possible. As he was about to leave from there to continue his journey, he suddenly became aware that he had been

looking at two unusual boys. Were they still there? Yes, they were. One was sitting on a log and reading the biography of one of his heroes. He was dreaming to be like him. The other was sitting by a stream looking at a dead plant. He was wondering about the mystery of life. The little boy saluted them. He didn't wish them good luck for he knew it wasn't necessary. You look for luck when you are weak and full of doubt. When you are powered by your passion and driven by your dreams, you don't need luck. You already have it. The little boy quietly glided away from there.

10 Meeting a funny genius The little boy was in no rush to reach his destination. He was traveling slowly, enjoying the journey, saying hello and goodbye to people, visiting places and watching the events in history. He saw adorable heroes and nasty villains along the way. He also saw senseless wars and great leaps of progress. Soon he began to see an interesting pattern in human history. He saw that for every villain there was a bigger hero. In place of something that was destroyed, something greater and more meaningful was always constructed. He saw that nothing defeated the human spirit that believed in the joy of living. The little boy was learning some great lessons from the past. He felt very happy. Then, looking ahead, he saw that his future was bright and promising. He felt even happier. He knew he was heading in the right direction. He let out a loud, jubilant cry. At that moment he saw something strange. There was a tiny speck on the sun. He had never seen that before. It was all right to have spots on the moon. But a speck on the sun?! It was something truly baffling. What was even more baffling was that the speck was coming directly towards him at the speed of light. It became bigger as it drew nearer.

Soon it was so close that he could see it very clearly. It wasn't something it was someone! It was a fuzzy haired man riding on a sunbeam. "This is fun!" the man shouted as he whizzed by. "You know something, this is great fun." And then he became a tiny speck again and was lost in space. The little boy looked in the direction of the vanishing man and chuckled loudly. He recognized his fellow traveler. Who wouldn't? His picture is in almost every science textbook and there is no mistaking his hair. But it wasn't the man's hair that made the little boy chuckle. It was his playfulness. He was so childlike. It's usually children who ride on sunbeams and laugh in the air. Adults are normally serious people. They like to deal with things that matter. But this man here was not only an adult but a man of science. And he was having fun. How could that be? Simple. To look serious when faced with a problem is a feat anybody can accomplish. It takes a genius to take the problem out of your head and to hitchhike on it. It takes a bigger genius to laugh and have fun along the way. This man is certainly a genius, thought the boy. A whopping genius. The boy was still looking in the direction where this funny genius had vamoosed when he felt a pat on his shoulder. He turned around with a start. And who should he see there but the same old whiz-kid! He was back! "No, no, no, I am not a whiz-kid, and I never was one," the jolly good genius promptly corrected the little boy's

thought. "I am a normal kid, just like you." Then he laughed like a little boy and the little boy laughed with him. The little boy felt truly blessed standing in the shadows of this great genius. Yet this man looked so ordinary, just like anyone else. What was special perhaps was the look in his eyes. They were filled with wonder. "Did you know that I failed math at school?" said this genius with a wink in his eye. Then his eyes twinkled as he whispered: "The important thing is not to fail life." The little boy was quite impressed. He wanted to ask this genius a hundred and one questions. But he saw that he was already getting ready to leave. "Never stop imagining!" the genius advised as he mounted the sunbeam again. Then off he went leaving a trail of inspiration for generations to come. He was humming a strange formula as he left. It sounded like a beautiful song of the cosmos. The little boy found this genius quite amusing and a little puzzling too. Then it occurred to him that everyone is amusing and puzzling in some way. It's always good to be amusing, puzzling and a genius rather than be amusing, puzzling, confused, crazy and no one. What do you say? The little boy smiled at his own question. Then he waved at the genius who was just about disappearing far away in the space.

11 Lessons from a charming wizard Even after the genius was gone, the boy could hear the hum. But he was amazed that it wasn't melodious any longer. It sounded like an odd crackle and it even smelled. He sniffed the air for clues. The smell was rather pungent and foul. Then he saw smoke. Something was burning somewhere. It was fire that was making the crackling sound. A giant laboratory was on fire. It was the place that had given birth to hundreds of fabulous inventions that brighten the world today. Hundreds more were in the process of being born here; but alas, it was now going up in smoke. The very sight of it saddened the little boy's heart. He rushed to the scene thinking he could be of help. But to add to his sadness, he realized that there wasn't much he could do. The little boy felt pity on the gentleman whose lab it was. He had given his whole life to build this place. He was there helplessly watching his life's work turn to ashes. This must be breaking his heart, thought the boy. "What are you going to do now, sir?" he asked the gentleman sympathetically. At that moment a flame tried to jump at them. They both stepped back in response.

"I have so many choices, don't I?" replied the gentleman as he quietly ran his eyes around the devastation. "I can cry," he said, "and beat my head on this solid ground. I can say everything's over now and jump in the fire like a coward. Or I can watch the beauty of the dancing flames and listen to their funny crackling music." That's what he did. He looked at the inferno with a quiet smile on his face. He looked as though he was actually happy. His lips quivered gently. Then he uttered the most amazing words that the little boy had ever heard from a human tongue. "Thank you," the gentleman said looking at the blazing fire. "Thank you for burning my mistakes. I couldn't have done it myself." The little boy was deeply touched. He let out a sob and a drop of tear escaped his eye. His respect for this gentleman grew a thousand-fold. He was a true gentleman, a charming wizard, a great human being. "Tell me something, young man," the gentleman said, squatting in front of the little boy. "When you lose everything you have, what remains?" "Nothing," the little boy replied promptly. "No, you remain," said the wizard. When youve lost everything, you still remain. You still remain, he repeated. "That's the greatest news in life."

The wizard's eyes sparkled as he spoke. "You know," he beamed. "You are much greater than anything that can ever happen to you. You are the master." The boy listened to this great master, savoring every word he spoke. The gentleman then sprang to his feet. With his face shining with the brightness of a million light bulbs, he announced: "Now I'll give the world my greatest gift a way to keep alive the music of your soul." The little boy observed this man keenly, and measured him from head to foot. He was a giant of human greatness. No mistake, no failure and no fear could ever defeat him. Yet this giant was once a little boy. A poor little boy who was sad, scared and lost. The world thought he was worthless, unteachable. He was even thrown out of school there was no place for him there. It was his mother who saw the hidden passion and greatness in him. She decided to teach him herself and to show him what he could be in life. How wonderful it is to have someone who believes in you! But what if no one believes in you? Then believe in yourself! The little boy happily let these thoughts play in his mind. Greatness lies in everyone. Everyone is talented in some way and everyone has some special gift to give to the world. The secret is to know that you have that gift or

that genius already in you and sure enough it will be there. Find it, love it and live it! The little boy was still thinking these refreshing thoughts when he heard a commotion of voices. He saw that a large crowd had gathered around the scene, and they were starting to douse the fire. The gentleman, who was a great soul indeed, stood there with his head hung low. Not in shame, nor in desperation. But in humility, in gratitude. When he raised his head again, he didnt see the devastation. Instead he saw there a most magnificent laboratory, one that was even better than before. The little boy marveled at the vision of this old wizard. If you can see it in your mind, then you will see it with your eyes. The wizard knew the secret. The little boy decided it was time to leave him alone, remembering that he had a lot to do. He raised his hand to wave him goodbye. At that very moment, a spark dropped on his hand. He flinched and shook his hand briskly. But the tiny spark had done its job. The boy's hand was now burning brightly. It was shining. It was golden. Clearly, it was a spark not of fire but of the little boy's own golden future. His future was trying to delight him. "Come now," it was saying, "the magic awaits you here. You have collected gifts aplenty. Now come!" The gentleman was right there watching everything. "Could you do me a favor, son?" he asked, looking at the shining hand of the boy.

The boy replied humbly: "Sure. Anything for you, sir." "I'd like you to meet someone special on the way there." It seemed that he clearly knew where the boy was headed. "She's one of the most beautiful women that have ever walked on earth. Her passion is as fresh as the morning dew. Her touch is as soft as silk." The little boy listened with interest as the gentleman described the person he was supposed to meet. Perhaps he wants me to deliver a message to her, he thought. But where or when does she live? How will I know her? "Oh, you will," answered the gentleman. "She's a beauty queen, a heartthrob of millions. You'll know her by the deep and lovely wrinkles that grace her face. She lives in the city of joy." The little boy sighed happily for he now knew who it was. "It will be a pleasure to meet her," he said to the gentleman. "Do you have a message for her?" "No. It's she who has a message for you."

12 The greatest healers in the world The boy said goodbye to the wise old wizard and left. On the way, he couldn't help wondering what the message could be. It must be something significant, he guessed. After all, it was a message from the mother of love. Mother! The word sent a chill through his body. Then his heart ached remembering his own mother. He thought about her fondly. He missed her. He missed her terribly. And he missed his father too. His father was harsh sometimes, but he was never not loving. He just didn't know how to show love. "Perhaps I could teach him how," thought the boy. "What is love if you don't express it! What is a flower if it never blooms?" The boy then realized that mostly it was he who had not been loving. He had never hugged his father when he came home from work. He had never thanked him for the things he did. It was all taken for granted. Many times he had seen his father sad, tired and in pain. Maybe he had a rough day. Maybe he was unsure of himself and needed support. Maybe the child in him cried for love. What if I had thrown my hands around him and said: 'Everything's going to be all right, dad'? Would that have helped him in some way? What if I had looked into his weary eyes and said these well-meaning words 'I love you'? Would that have made any difference? How would that make him feel?

The boy tried to imagine how his father would feel or what he would do. Would he jump with joy and dance with delight? No, he wouldn't. He'd look like a crazy baboon if he did that. 'I love you too. It's such a joy to have you for a son.' He would say that. His eyes would glitter and his lips would flicker as he said that. The more the little boy imagined such things, the more he wanted to go home. He became hopelessly homesick. The promise of a golden future didn't sound promising any longer. He forgot about his mission. Nothing mattered now but to be home. His own sweet old home. Where love was, as it was. The next thing he knew, he was at his doorstep. It felt so good to be home. The little boy knocked on the door and waited with bated breath. He was dying to see his parents. But he was unsure how they would react. His heart fluttered. Thoughts ran wild in his mind. What questions would they ask? Would they be angry because he had left without asking and vanished for so long? Or would they be happy now that he came back? The door opened. It was his mother. She looked at him with great surprise. Then she caught him by his arms and asked: "Is anything the matter, son? You're home early." The little boy was flabbergasted to hear his mother's words. Home early? What does she mean? As far as I know, I'm home late. Not by a few hours, but by days. I've been away for days! "I'm I'm" he stammered, not knowing what to say.

"You're sorry," his father snapped from behind. "That's what you want to say, don't you?" The little boy was getting all too confused. Mother says early and father says sorry. What do they mean? Maybe I should tell them the truth, he thought. Its always easy that way. Yes, I'll tell them everything that happened. After all, I have the proof my hand, my glowing hand. He looked at his hand eagerly, but he was greatly disappointed by what he saw. His hand, which was bright and golden a few moments ago, was now cold and dry. There was no proof. Just then, he was struck by a shocking question: "Is this reality or imagination?" He stood there wondering. He couldn't tell whether he was actually in his real home or he was dreaming that he was in his real home. "Do you have anything to say, young man?" father asked again. He had a stern look on his face and he sounded frighteningly real. "Yes, I have something to say," replied the boy with sudden, unexpected boldness. The strong tone of his voice gave his father a little shock. "The first thing I want to say is that I love you two very, very much. Thank you for being my parents and for taking such good care of me." Having said this, the boy grinned at his parents. They looked very much puzzled. He looked into their puzzled eyes and said: "I would like you to know what I think of you. You are the two most wonderful people in the whole world. You are my

true heroes and I look up to you. And I know you won't ever let me down. "You have been great parents," he said in a loud whisper. Then he asked: "How would you like to be my friends?" He tried to explain what he meant: "See, I'm growing up fast and I'm learning a bewildering amount of things. Sometimes I forget what is real and what is not, and sometimes I don't know what is right and what is wrong. There are times when I cant tell whether what I am doing is good or bad. I make silly mistakes now and then. I may even commit dreadful acts out of ignorance. "When things go wrong and the world is against me, can I come to you? Can I ask for shelter in your big hearts? Will you give your strong shoulders for me to cry on? I can share with you all my secrets, can't I? If not you, then who? "Can I also ask you questions? I have lots of them. But you wont laugh at my questions, will you? Even if they are silly. It will hurt me if you laugh and I may fear asking questions again. You may not know the answer to every question I ask, but that's OK. What matters is that you listen to me and so you respect me." The little boy finally asked: "Do you love me?" Then he looked at them and waited. Mother had tears in her eyes and father had wonder. They didn't speak a word, but their eyes said it all. This is what they said:

"Indeed we love you. You can ask us anything and you can tell us everything. Our love for you is large enough to hold your world and deep enough heal your wounds." "Oh, I feel so wonderful!" the little boy cried out and started bouncing around excitedly. "Guilt, shame and fear!" he shouted in the air. There was challenge in his voice. "Now you don't stand a chance. Raise your ugly heads again and you'll be pulverized with the power of love." The little boy then lunged towards his father without warning. He caught hold of him with his tender hands and hugged him tightly. Then he landed a sweet peck on his mother's cheek. Then he opened the door and dashed out. He went dancing down the street. "I'll be back soon," he shouted as he disappeared around the corner. The boy's parents were in a daze. Nothing like it had ever happened before. Their timid little boy wasn't the same anymore. They looked in the direction he had left and then they looked at each other. Then they looked within themselves. They were still and quiet for a long time. When they looked at each other again they had a twinkle in their eyes, a smile on their lips and joy in their hearts. Together they blessed their son. They knew he'd find his way. Proud parents they were.

13 The secret of a peaceful warrior The little boy smiled to his heart's content. He was just there in the corner of the street, hiding. He had been secretly watching his parents from there. Naughty little boy! His parents loved him well there was no doubt about it. Their love wasnt wrapped in fear and there were no worries attached. Their love was the purest pearl from the deepest ocean. From the ocean of creation itself. Where life springs out of the bubble of mystery. The little boy waved at his parents and blew them a kiss each. Then he went swiftly down the street, riding on the wind. "Nothing can stop me now!" he declared. "No one dare!" he warned. "Stop!" said an old man with a walking stick. He had appeared out of nowhere and was blocking his way. The boy stopped in his tracks. He couldn't help it. He felt weak and powerless at the command of the old man. "Who are you," the little boy asked feebly, "and why did you stop me?" The old man who stopped him was dressed in a loincloth. He looked weak and frail with ribs sticking out on his bare chest. This old man needed the support of a cane to walk. Where did he get the power to stop the force of the wind? Who was he? "You are forgetting who you are," said the old man, much to the boy's surprise. "Wake up, remember!

The secret of a peaceful warrior

Remember that you are on a mission. Remember the message." What message? The boy tried to recall. "Look into my eyes and you'll know," said the old man in a strong, quavering voice. The little boy looked into his eyes, which blinked quietly behind the pair of glasses he wore. He saw nothing in those quiet eyes. He looked closer and harder. No, nothing there. Some things you dont see. You can only feel their presence. The boy suddenly felt it. He felt the heat. A furnace of passion burned in those eyes. It burned silently and invisibly, yet very intensely. The boy felt sweat building up on his brow. Soon he was so hot that he could no longer bear it. He swiftly shook his head and took his gaze away from those eyes. The moment he did that, the heat was gone. A gush of cold wind blew in his face. The little boy shuddered and gasped for breath. The old man was coolly smiling at him. He had just helped the little boy to wake up from a long and deep dream. In the dream he had visited his parents. The little boy shook his head again to be sure that he was fully awake. Then he looked at the thin old man in front of him. He instantly recognized him. He was one of the strongest and most courageous men that he had ever known. The old man was a peaceful warrior. He won his fights by receiving punches rather than by inflicting them on

others. He built his strength to receive pain, and he invited his opponents to hit him hard. The harder they hit him the more it hurt them, not him. He was a clever fighter indeed. He was a hero for the millions that he fought for. The little boy joined his hands before him in a beautiful namaste. It was a sign of love, respect and honor. While the boy's hands were in this position, something else was happening too. The glow from his golden hand was flowing into his other hand and it was spreading to other parts of his body. The great warrior placed his hand on the little boy's head. "Now follow your mission," he said, "and dont forget the message." "I will follow my mission and I won't forget the message," echoed the little boy. Then he added: "But, oh great teacher, before I leave, I want to know the secret of your great life." "Oh, that's simple," laughed the old master. "I found a cause that was greater than myself and gave my life to it. Life did the rest." The little boy winced a little as he heard this. He felt a pain in one corner of his heart and his mouth tasted bitter. Here was a man who gave his life to a cause greater than himself. And here he was, a selfish little boy, chasing his own golden future. He left from there feeling a little empty and looking somewhat lost.

14 The mother of love and the call of the heart In no time at all he was in a dirty little slum in a grand old city. The little boy had come here for a reason. He had come to meet an old and compassionate woman who lived here. The wizard had said that she had a message for him. The warrior had reminded him about the message. What message, he didnt know yet, but he guessed that it must be important. The boy was told to wait because the loving old woman he had come to meet was busy nursing an ailing man, consoling a poor woman and feeding a wailing child. As he waited, the little boy looked around. He saw filth, sickness and hunger. His heart wept. When the loving woman appeared before him, the little boy stood up to greet her. She smiled at him tenderly, and softly kissed his forehead. "I can see the sadness in your eyes, she whispered. But worry not, little boy. The filth will be cleaned. The sick will be healed and the hungry will have enough to eat. No problem is permanent." Then she told him that this world is full of angels. When you need help, you just have to ask. The boy was quite fascinated with the way she talked. He looked at this old lady with a charming smile. She was indeed a beauty queen. Her wrinkled face glowed brilliantly and she moved with the grace of an angel. She

didn't just look beautiful, she was beautiful. Her beauty rippled from the core of her heart and permeated her every thought and action. The little boy instantly fell in love with this great woman. She was great not because she nursed the sick, fed the hungry and chanted some prayers. She was great because she had given her life to a cause greater than herself. Yes, she too. "What about me?" thought the boy. He knew he had a golden future ahead of him. But he wasn't excited about it any longer. He didn't want a golden future, he wanted a great life. He wanted to make a difference and live a life of meaning. But how? The moment he asked the question, something in him stirred. Something in him whispered. "Love me," it said. "Heal me I'm in pain!" it cried out. The boy was alarmed. He listened more intently. He heard a desperate cry for help. But whose cry was it? The cry got louder and louder until it became a deafening scream. The little boy could take it no more. He frantically covered his ears with his hands. But it was a fruitless try. Perhaps you can block away the helpless cries of countless people, but you can never escape the screams of your own heart. The old woman gently removed the little boy's hands from his ears. "Listen to the call of your heart, my son," she said. "My heart?" The boy looked bewildered.

He looked at the old woman for answers. Her face was calm, quiet and serene. Wisdom was written on the lines of her face just as love was written in the veins of her heart and service was written in palms of her hands. She was nodding at him affectionately. "Go, my son," she said to him kindly. "Go, answer the call." Then she immediately returned to her work. She had other cries to attend to. The boy was confused. She had told him to answer the call but she didn't tell him how. He lingered around the place for a while not knowing what to do. Then he just left from there not knowing where to go. He wandered aimlessly. He still heard the cries, and he truly wanted to reach out and help. But he just didn't know how.

15 The present The little boy sat down and sighed in desperation. He felt hopelessly confused and painfully sad. Just moments ago, he was bubbling with joy and aspiring to meet his future. Where did that joy and enthusiasm go now? He looked like a dejected soldier who had just lost a battle. Whats happening to me? he wondered sadly. Youre OK, said a soft voice in his ear. And he felt a comforting arm around his shoulder. It was the golden-haired boy! The little boy was most surprised to see him there. He was even more surprised to find himself sitting under a boulder at a riverbank. It was the same boulder and the same riverbank where he had first met the golden-haired stranger. Yes, it was the same place, unmistakably the same. The sand, the rocks, the river everything was the same. He was back to where he had begun! The little boy couldnt believe what was happening. It was such an uncanny experience. How come Im here? he said looking at the goldenhaired boy. I mean, I was gone. You were never gone, replied his friend, smiling softly and gently. You were here all the while. What do you mean I wasnt gone? questioned the little boy rather aggressively. What about all the people I met, the caveman and the fuzzy-haired genius? What

about the journey, the dance, the pyramids? Yes, the pyramids I was there! And the woman I met at last, that saintly mother, what about her? She said I must listen to the call of my heart. And then, suddenly, I find myself here. Whats all this? How long has it been? What day is today? The golden-haired boy looked straight into the little boys eyes and said calmly, No time has passed at all, my dear friend, and you havent left this place. You were always here and now. Isnt it wonderful, the golden-haired boy continued, to reach places without even leaving where you are? Isnt it truly wonderful to experience your past and the future and yet be present all the time? The little boy thought about it for a while. Yes, it was indeed a wonderful experience. But was it real? Wasnt it all a figment of his imagination? Ah, imagination! said the golden-haired boy delightedly, his eyes lighting up. Youre right, its all imagination. Imagination is the real thing! Do you see this world around you? said the goldenhaired boy, quickly pointing around him. Its there because you have imagined it. Its your creation, master! The golden-haired boy said those last words with an unusual seriousness in his voice. The little boy was rather amused. Master? he said. You called me master? Yes, master, replied the golden-haired boy, very respectfully. Its all your creation. You have created this

world through your imagination. The rivers and forests, the stars and galaxies everythings your creation. The little boy listened to his friend with amusement. Then he laughed heartily. Youre crazy! he muttered and then laughed even more. Finally, still giggling, he asked, Who are you really? Tell me who you are and why youve come to me. There was no answer. The little boy stopped laughing and giggling suddenly for he realized that his friend wasnt there anymore. He was nowhere around. Hed just vanished. Where are you? shouted the little boy. Im here, master, came the reply from behind him. Im here, master, came another reply, this time from his left. Im here, master, came yet another reply, now from his right. Then replies came from every direction. It was like a symphony of a thousand voices, all chanting, Im here. It seemed as though everything on that riverbank was replying to him. The rocks, the sand, the plants, the river everything was saying to him: Im here, master! The little boy listened with great fascination, looking all around him. Then, as he looked on, he saw something amazing happening. Something truly marvelous. More miraculous than anything that he had ever seen or experienced before.

16 In the secret garden Does the boy reach his promised future? What happens there? Will he return home to his parents? How does the story end? You may either write the last chapter yourself: http://littlemaster.udayonline.com/write-something/ Or you can get the full ebook from Kindle store: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B007REC8WK