Little Master : Discover Your Greatness

8/9/2019 Little Master : Discover Your Greatness

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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


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Before you read

Little Master is a fantastic little tale about discoveringyour 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 greatestpeople from history. They are there to help and guide thehero of the story on his magical journey. But you will findthat these great people have not been named. See if youcan recognize them in the story:

Abraham LincolnCharles Darwin Albert EinsteinThomas Edison Mahatma Gandhi Mother TeresaIn the beginning chapters of this book, youll find

allusions to two great works of art: the statue of David byMichelangelo and the painting of The Starry Night by vanGogh. The story of course doesnt mention their names.Maybe youll identify them anyway, or maybe not. Testyourself.

In the eighth chapter, our hero finds himself amidstsome of the wonders of early human civilization:

the Pyramids

Stonehengemaoi of Easter Islandthe Great Wall of China


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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 beto arrive where we startedand 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 itand know it when youve reached that point in the story.

Youll come across lots of other references andallusions throughout the story of Little Master . Here aresome that you cant miss:

magmacosmic dance of Shiva Moonlight Sonata by BeethovenFour Seasons by VivaldiKolkata an Indian city

Leisure by WH Davisuniversal form of KrishnaPaleolithic manthe North Star phonographE=MC 2 Be sure to mark them when you come across them. Do

pause and ponder over them. They will make yourreading of Little Master all the more enriching.


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Let this splendid tale of human greatness delight yourheart and ignite your soul.

Happy reading.


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Contents

1. The colored folder

2. An angel in the rock

3. A masterpiece

4. Pearls of wisdom

5. A strange communication

6. The great dance of life

7. A new world calling

8. Dreaming the stars

9. 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 present16. In the secret garden


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1

The colored folder

Once, not so long ago and in a land not very far fromwhere we live today, there lived a little boy. Like theother boys and girls of his age, he liked to play games andchase butterflies. But unlike many of them, he wanted togo to school.

Now this was strange because schools in those dayswere not really joyful places of learning. Young boys and

girls went to school every morning with books on theirbacks and fear in their hearts. They sat in narrow benchesin crowded classrooms and learned things that made nosense 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 themwhy 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 ontheir 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 joband make a living."

"When you were born, I saw in your eyes a lovelyspark," said his mother, looking deep into his eyes. "I seethe same spark in your eyes today. Only it is muchbrighter now. Let it glow, son."


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She looked even deeper into his eyes. And then sheblessed him. "May you shine with the brightness of athousand stars!"

She knew, as mothers always do, that her little boy

was no ordinary boy. He was born to be great. He wouldnot only win bread for his family but bring glory to thisworld.

"You'll surely be a rock star," said some of his friendsand neighbors. They saw that he had a special fascinationfor rocks. He even had a unique collection of them. Heproudly displayed them in one corner of his room andinvited everyone he met to come and have a look. To hisutter delight, some of them seemed to like it.

There were white rocks, black rocks, speckled rocks, jagged rocks, sparkling rocks, and rocks with strangeimages on them. They were all pretty rocks. Often hemarveled at the beauty and variety of his own collectionand wondered. He somehow liked the idea of being arock star.

Then one day he met some travelers at the river, where

he was looking for rocks. They were pretty impressed bythe 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 someonewho studied about rocks among other things. It was afascinating subject to study.

I think I'd like to be a geologist, he decided. Yes, ageologist. That's what I want to be.


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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 toschool 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 towrite, tests to take.... There was no time for rocks

anymore."Here's your progress report," said his teacher one dayhanding him a colored folder. The tone of her voice didntsound very appealing, and this made him uneasy.

He knew what the folder contained the papers hehad written, grades he had earned, whether he hadpassed or failed. Had he failed? His heart sank at thethought, and his face grew pale instantly. He knew whatit meant to fail. It was to qualify for unkindness andshame at school. It was to bring disgrace to family athome.

He took the folder in his hands and looked pleadinglyinto his teacher's eyes.

Her eyes flared.Then he heard a voice scream:"You are doomed!"


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2 An angel in the rock

Everyone knows today that if you fail a test, it doesntmean that you are a failure. It just means that you got aresult. Tests can be taken again and results can bechanged. You are worth a lot more than any test or result,and you can't let such things dictate your value. But thelittle boy didnt know this and nobody told him.

Sad, confused, full of guilt and in pain, the little boywalked home that evening.

No, not home. Feeling worthless and clutching thecolored folder in his hand, he was heading down the roadthat didnt lead to his home. His head was down and his

steps were heavy.He walked on for a long, long time. When he finallystopped and looked around, he found himself at the river.It was the same river where he used to come to collectrocks so frequently in the past. He looked at its flowingwater 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 satthere staring, for a very, very long time.

Suddenly, something dazzling shone in his eyes. Thenhe saw it. A beautiful little rock, half buried in sand,

shining brightly just two feet away from where he sat. Theboy's eyes widened and they sparkled with delight. Hereached out and took the little rock in his hands. Abeautiful smile played on his lips as his hands gentlyplayed with the rock.


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"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 eagerlyat the shiny rock that he had in his hands.

"Is it yours?" the little boy asked, holding the rocktowards the stranger.

"No, you saw it first, so that makes it yours," said thenewcomer. Then he jumped off the boulder and stood infront 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 ratherstrange. His face glowed brightly, much like the rock thatthe little boy had found. His hair was golden; not justgolden it looked as though it was made of gold. Hespoke 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 andlanded in front of him. No, he didnt even fly. He justvanished from the top of the boulder and appeared rightbefore him, in a flash!

"Wow! How did you do that?" the little boy asked withsurprise.

The new boy seemed to know what the little boywanted to know. He said, much happily, "I'm glad younoticed. That's the way I usually move around. Isnt it

exciting?"The answer had to be yes. The new boy further saidthat he could go to any place at any time he liked and asfast or as slow as he wanted to. All he needed to do was to


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The new boy said that he was a geologist. The little boywas truly glad to hear that, though he found it rather hardto believe that one could be a geologist at such a youngage. 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 sellsome of the rocks that I collect, usually the odd and thecolorful ones that people like. So that makes me a businessperson.

"I'm an artist too. I join rocks together to make thingsof beauty. I draw and paint on them. I use them for mycreative expression."

At this point, the new boy stopped speaking andlooked around the riverbank curiously. Then he pointedto 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 nakedrock.

"Chip away the rock and you'll see the angel." The newboy had barely said this when the little boy saw himeagerly 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.


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There, in front of his eyes, stood an imposing figure ofan angel where minutes ago there was only a rock.

"Unbelievable!" he gasped looking at the statue. It wasbreathtakingly beautiful. "How...?" he asked.

"Do not be so surprised, my friend," said the new boyin a loving voice. "The angel was already there in the rock,wanting to break free, to be born. All I did was play therole 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 tothink 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 practicingand perfecting, and studying all I can about rocks. I learnfrom books, I learn from teachers, and I learn from rocksthemselves.

"And I am a teacher. Just ask me and all I've known inso many years is yours in a moment. But of course you'llhave to ask me about rocks," said the new boy, chucklinglike a child.

"I'm glad I can follow what is truly my passion," heconcluded, 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. Butnow he could again feel the passion building up inside


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him. His love of rocks, which had been only a flicker, wasnow turning into a flame. A stranger from a strange landhad 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! Itsounded too good to be true. He looked across the riverand his eyes surveyed the horizon. Then he turned hisgaze towards the golden-haired boy who could be hissavior.

The new boy smiled and nodded. Then he said, "Youcan't see from this side what's really there on the otherside. There's a world of its own, a marvelous world." Hesaid 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 knewhad ever tried to cross that river. No one had thoughtabout even building a bridge on it. He was surprised whynot.

"Have you ever tried it?" asked the new boy lookingstraight into his eyes. The little boy admitted that hehadnt.

The little boy then thought deeply. If what this strangekid says is true, then he might as well give it a try. Amagical land of all possibilities. Surely worth a visit.


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


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3 A masterpiece

The little boy stood up excitedly. But as he did so,something from his lap dropped on the sand. It was thecolored folder. Both the boys looked at it and then at eachother. The little boy grew pale. He wished he were dead atthat moment.

He bent down, nervously, to pick it up. But the folder

wasn't there anymore. The new boy had already picked itup and was going through its contents. There wasseriousness on his face as he flipped through the folder.Then the muscles on his bright face twitched. Then hegrinned a little and then giggled. Finally he burst into apeal of laughter.

All this happened so quickly that the little boy didntknow how to react. He looked helplessly at the crazyantics of this stranger. He was ashamed, confused andangry all at the same time.

The new boy continued to thunder with laughter. Helaughed so loud that the little boy felt the ground beneathhis 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 carewhat you think.

The new boy stopped laughing as suddenly as he hadstarted. Now he was looking at something in the folderthat made his eyes grow wide. His bright face becameserious again.


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"Marvelous!" he exclaimed suddenly, startling the littleboy. The light on his face shone even brighter than before."Ingenious!" he exclaimed louder. "This is truly the workof a genius.

"Did you draw this?" the new boy turned towards thelittle boy and asked, showing a drawing of a scene thatwas 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 thedrawing. He admired its concept, contours, and colorchoice. He said the drawing expressed joy and freedom.

The little boy finally spoke. "Do you think so?" heasked incredulously.

"Look," said the new boy, and the little boy looked athis own drawing. There were as many red marks, circlesand crosses from the teacher's pen as there were strokesfrom 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 consoledhim. "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 trulygiven it your best. No one can know the value yourmasterpiece more than yourself."


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There was a moment of silence as both of them lookedat the drawing with great concentration. The conversationstarted 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 intothe 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 belimited to a certain height."

"Indeed, my friend. No one should be limited in anyway by anything. We're all unlimited, just like this tree. Tolook as far as you can, to grow as tall as you can, and tospread your roots as deep and wide as you can that's thesecret of life. Perhaps that's what your tree means."

"This tree is also a bridge from our planet to the entiregalaxy," 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 almostshouting. "Look at this group of stars that you've drawn inthe corner. They have such a fabulous pattern. They couldbe from another galaxy altogether."

The little boy looked at the faint cluster he had drawnin the corner and smiled. Now he was beginning to seesome hidden part of himself. This new discovery filledhim with happiness and pride. He could feel the cells inhis body bubbling with bliss.


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4Pearls of wisdom

But the laughter. What about it? If the boy thought he wasa genius, then why did he have to laugh? What was helaughing at?

The little boy asked. The other boy didn't answer.Instead, he started laughing again. He began flippingthrough 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 newboy said pointing at the mistakes the little boy had madein 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 waslaughing at his mistakes. He said:

"It's a good thing to laugh at your mistakes. If youdont, then they will laugh at you and torment you. Lookat 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 wasdumbfounded by what he had just heard. He had neverlearned to see mistakes in this way. It astonished him tothink 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 nowgently smiling at him. He had heard about alchemists andwizards. Could he be one? He had just turned a rock intoan angel and mistakes into priceless jewels. He had


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transformed his rejected drawing into a map of theuniverse. And he had promised to take him to theextraordinary 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 bothlaughed. They looked at each mistake and laughed. Theyturned and twisted the mistakes, they cut them open andsewed them up, and laughed. They laughed at consonantsand decimals and ideas and concepts at everything thathad somehow gone wrong.

They laughed until their jaws and bellies ached andtear clouded their eyes.

When they stopped laughing, the little boy realizedthat he had to go home.

"It's getting late and my parents will be worried," hesaid, hurriedly getting ready to go. Then he asked his newfriend, "What about you? What time do you have to gethome?"

"I've been away for two weeks. Maybe I'll be home aweek later."

The little boy found this answer so curious that heforgot about going home and sat down again. "That'sthree weeks!" he said. "It's a long time. Have you runaway 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 norules.""No rules!" the little boy almost screamed. His eyes

were wide open and so was his mouth.


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"Yes, no rules. But there's love. When you operate withlove, 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 torelease and let go. It's fear that wants to restrict andwithhold.

The little boy wasnt sure whether he understood. Hewanted to know something else now. "Where have youbeen 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, "Thewhole world is a school and everyone is a teacher. All ittakes is your willingness to learn."

"You're so lucky. All you do is learn about rocks. Youdont have to learn spellings, or algebra, or."

The new boy stopped him short, and said: "Whoevertold you that these things are not important? Spellings areas important to a rock star as they are to a writer or arocket scientist. Or a geologist or a biologist.

"I need to understand every subject to understandrocks. Language, mathematics, science, history, sociology,accounting, marketing, everything." He paused, and thenspoke again with a special firmness in his voice. He said:


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5 A strange communication

The new boy was smiling. It was clear from the expressionin 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 hungrywaves. The waves seemed to devour the pebbles and toask for more.

The little boy picked up a rather large stone and hurledit at a nearby wave. Suddenly, out of nowhere, there was abright flash of lightning. The little boy was pleasantlystartled.

But he noticed that his friend was unusually silent he

neither spoke, nor did he move. Only his eyes flashed andflickered. Then the little boy noticed something truly outof the ordinary. The new boy's body was covered with asheath of golden light. He looked awesome.

Then, suddenly, the new boy smiled. The little boyreturned his smile, but he soon realized that his friendwasnt smiling at him.

The new boy kept smiling for a long time, lookingnowhere. It was the most extraordinary smile that the littleboy had ever seen on anyone's lips bright, pleasant andmysterious.

The little boy watched in amazement. He felt a strangekind of love and safety in the presence of this unworldlybeing whoever he was.


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Then the golden light faded and disappeared from thestranger's body. He moved, and he was still smiling. Thistime he was definitely smiling at the little boy. So the littleboy flashed a smile back at him a bright smile it was.

Curiosity was killing the little boy now. Who is thismysterious stranger?The question bulged like a balloon inside him. It could

burst any time. If he delayed, it could even explode andshatter 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. Heasked again: "Who are you really? Are you a genie orsomething?"

The new boy replied with a knowing smile: "As I said,I'm whatever you call me. Call me a genie and I can grantyou three wishes. Call me an angel and I'll give you wingsto fly. Call me a devil and I'll send you to hell. But call mea friend and give me your love, and I'm yours forever."

The little boy wasn't looking for this kind of crypticanswers. 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 thanever. Rather than comfort him with his answers, thestranger was making him more desperately curious. "Youwere not talking at all. I was watching you all the while."


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"Oh, you dont need words to talk," the new boyremarked. "We were using the language of love, ofthought, of knowledge. Yes, the light it was my mother'sway 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 theeyes, and there are more ways to communicate than withthe words. You will discover everything if you explore.You could even discover that you have a hundred sensesrather than just five."

A hundred senses? Imagine what you could do with allof them! Too good to be true, thought the little boy.

Then he thought about his own mother. She still didntknow how to communicate with flashes of light and shemust be getting worried. He immediately got up to go.

"Oh, dont worry about your mother," the new boy saidto him.

"What do you mean?" the little boy asked. The otherboy knew what he was thinking and this wasnt the firsttime. The little boy felt rather uneasy and looked at thestranger, 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 shockclearly visible in his eyes. Then he spoke: "Your mother, Imean, my mother, she doesnt even know." He wasntgetting the right words to finish the sentence, but the newboy seemed to know what he was trying to say.


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The new boy said, "Mothers have a language of theirown. They can understand each other and their childrenall too well. Mothers are the master communicators of theuniverse."

The little boy shrugged, and then smiled. He didntknow what to say. He somehow liked to believe thisstranger who was becoming more than just a friend. Hewas entering his very soul as if he always belonged there.

"By the way," said the new boy, halting the little boy'strain of thought, "my mother thinks you're cute and shesends 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. "Howabout 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. Somethingtold him that he could trust him. After all, the angel in therock, the meaning of the drawing, the laughing at themistakes.... He had taught him so much. He could be hisguide!


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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.


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6 The great dance of life

The two boys stood at the river's edge. The river swirledin front of them it rustled and it rumbled. It flowedincessantly, gathering more speed and power along theway. It never stopped, it never faltered.

The little boy watched in awe the mighty force of theriver.

The river didnt bother about who was watching. Asone might expect from a river, it never worries aboutthings, especially about things like who is watching orhow it is going to make it to the ocean. When it hits aboulder, it doesnt stop to cry and curse; rather it bounces

over it. When a hill blocks its way, it doesnt stop andstagnate there; instead, it makes a way around it. Surelyand 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 adeep, sonorous voice. "This is because I know where I amgoing," the voice boomed. It was certainly the voice of theriver.

"I know who I am," it thundered. "I am the ocean. Iknew it even when I was born. I knew it when I was onlya trickle of water under a boulder in the mountains. Whenyou know your own greatness, petty things lose theirsting."

A log went tumbling down.


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The river whistled and roared as it flowed. The littleboy bowed to the river, almost involuntarily.

"Do you know how to swim?" It was not the river thistime. It was his friend speaking.

But the little boy didn't hear him. He was lost in theriver. He couldnt believe the river had spoken to him. Theriver knew where it was going. It knew it was the oceanand 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? Hewondered, 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 wastrying to break out, to be born. Suddenly, with no effort ofhis own, his body started swinging. His feet felt light andbouncy. It felt as though he would soon spread his wingsand fly.

The little boy looked around him. Everything aroundhim was dancing.

He looked up at the sky and he saw there an amazingsight. Countless birds of all feathers were taking part in amost spectacular dance. They were flying high and low,and they were flying far and near. There was perfectrhythm in their flight and there was perfect pattern intheir dance.

The little boy felt a wild thrill in his body. He had acompelling urge to participate in the dance. Then, almoston impulse, he spread out his hands and raised one of hislegs. He tiptoed on the other leg and swung around. Three


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rounds he made, then he bounced lightly on both his feetand started dancing.

He danced with joy and abandonment on that lonelyriverbank. He danced to the rhythm of the river, the

whistle of the wind, the music of the moonlight, and thesymphony of the seasons.The more he danced the more joyous he felt. He felt

freer than the birds and mightier than the ocean. He feltthat he was growing taller than the mountains and he wasglowing brighter than the sun itself.

As he danced away, the little boy felt that he waslosing himself. He had a curious feeling that he wasbecoming the dance itself.

Anyone who has danced this way certainly knows howit feels. Or anyone who has sung, or played, or painted, orclimbed, or swum, or designed, or built knows exactlyhow it feels to lose oneself in what one is doing. Youbecome one with it. That's the way you express the truedesire of your heart. That's the way you create amazingthings. 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?


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may call them so, but let's not forget that they found oneanother 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 hiscontribution. He smiled and bowed to him. He didntknow how else to honor this remarkable innovator fromthe ancient times.

But this master of the stone tool didn't pay any heed tothe little boy. He was busy celebrating. He was jumping,dancing, hopping, flopping, roaring, growling doing allsorts of crazy things. He had no time for compliments.

The little boy watched him for sometime more. Thenhe stood silently some distance away from the cave tryingto figure out how he arrived there. But a strangecacophony 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 couldfly too!

Could he fly just like the birds? No, better than the

birds.The difference was that the birds were limited in theirflight by the span of their wings and the range of theirvision. They could only fly a certain height and a certaindistance, and they could fly no more than a certain speed.


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The boy, on the other hand, could fly on the wings ofthought. There were no limitations to how high or how faror how fast he could travel. He could go anywhere heliked at any time he wanted and at any speed he desired.

The boy felt a deep sense of freedom as he realized thisnew capability of his. "How free I am!" he exclaimed, andhe felt truly magnificent!

As the birds were vanishing behind the clouds, thelittle boy wished them a safe journey and a warm home.He also silently thanked them, for he knew it was thebirds that had fired his imagination for flight. They toowere his teachers.

The little boy then turned around and looked towardsthe horizon in front of him. It was shining brightly withgolden light. The light flickered playfully now and then,turning itself into a beautiful rainbow of colors. The boyknew intuitively that the light was calling him. It was thelight from a new world where the boy's future waswaiting for him. It was a world where learning wasspontaneous and love was abundant, and it was inviting

him to come."If that's the place where I am supposed to be in, thenwhy did I land up here?" the boy asked himself. Nosooner 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. Hisfuture also reminded him that the castles built for himthere have been made from the stones from his past.


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The boy smiled and a golden radiance shone on hislips. He was already beginning to get the taste of hisfuture.

The very next moment he would be in a new world. A

world of magic and miracles. The very thought of it filledhim 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 intoevery organ, tissue and cell of his body. He felt refreshed,renewed and rebuilt.

In that instant he realized how powerful one breath ofair could be. He thought of the thousands of breaths hemust have taken until now. Each of those breaths was abreath of life and he wasnt even aware of it! "How foolishit 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.


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8 Dreaming the stars

One split second of flight and he stopped. He just wantedto see where he had reached.

Had he reached his destination? Surely not. It was tooshort a flight.

The little boy saw that he was still on earth there wasno mistaking it. But he had left the age of the caveman farbehind. Looking around, he noticed that here peopledidn't use stone tools; they used stones to make wonders.

The little boy saw wonders and marvels all aroundhim. 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 toldhimself. "Then I'll be off again."

He first stood among the towering mounds ofglittering stones. They were the majestic pyramids thatsparkled 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 theystood in circles, tall and proud. They played with theshadows and they danced in the rain.

Further away, he saw gigantic statues meditating on atiny island. There were hundreds of them. He wonderedwhat mysterious hands could have placed them there.


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What human hands they were and what human brains!The makers of these wonders surely had a vision thatwent 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 greatwall, beautifully built with stones, stretching as far as theeyes could see.

Sitting there comfortably, he looked up at the sky. Thesun was leaving after a long day's work. A few stars hadalready appeared and they were playing hide and seek."That's what they do when the sun's away," the little boysaid to himself and chuckled a little. And then he began todream, looking at the stars, with his eyes half open.

His friends, whom he had left behind, joined him thereand they too began looking at the stars. "The stars arebeautiful, arent they?" the little boy said to them.

"Indeed, they are," his friends replied without takingtheir gaze off the sky.

Suddenly, the sky looked unusually bright. There wasa 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 thestars whispering among themselves.

Then a bright old star in the northern sky blinkedmerrily at the boys and girls as if it was trying to get theirattention. When they looked at it, it simply said: "Thankyou for making us beautiful." The other stars immediately


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broke into a beautiful chorus. "Thank you for making usbeautiful!" they sang.

The little boy was thunderstruck, and so were hisfriends.

"We... how do we... make you beautiful?" the little boyasked in great surprise and disbelief. "You are stars andwe're just human, young and little."

The stars continued to sing. "You are made of the samestuff 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. "Howdo we do that?"

The wise old star of the north winked heartily at themand said:

"We are stars because you call us so. We twinklebecause you look at us. We dance with joy for you thinkwe are beautiful. If it weren't for you, we'd just be balls offire, dust and gas."

The old star then joined its billions of little friends inthe merrymaking. They were all frisking and frolickingand turning the sky into a heaven of lights.

The little boy and his friends continued to look at themarvelous night sky for some more time. Now they had anew reason to look there: to make the stars beautiful, toget 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 anunbelievable speed. He watched it delightfully until itcame so close in front of him that he trembled.


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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 beginningof a new day.

The little boy then looked around expectantly, but hisfriends weren't there. Of course he had been dreaming.What a pleasant dream that was!

"Imagine making the stars beautiful!" the little boychuckled 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 seearound us is really our own beauty reflected back to us. Itcould be true that how we see other people is really howwe are. It could be true that when we call someone ugly orstupid, we are really calling that to ourselves.

"It could be true!" said the little boy and grinnedheartily. He felt happy that he had taken a moment todream. The dream had given him a new way to look atthings. He felt that he now had one more eye one thatcould see things unseen.

He then decided to resume his flight. He couldn't waitto meet his future. It was shining bright and golden justaround the horizon. It was waiting for him there withopen arms.

The little boy spread his wings, sorry thoughts, and

lifted off.


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9What a teacher!

He had barely even disappeared from there when...

"Wait!" a voice thundered. The little boy froze rightthere.

It took a moment for him collect himself. Then herealized, much to his own surprise, that it wasn't a voicefrom anywhere outside. It had come from within him. Itwas 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'sdoor 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 findthem along the way. On the journey." It was the voice ofhis own future. It seemed that even his future didn't wanthim 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 tosee what he could see and learn what he could learn alongthe way. They didn't want him to reach the new world ina quick flight, missing everything on the way.


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"Indeed," thought the little boy, "how fruitless it wouldbe to reach your destination and miss the journey!" Hedecided to take the journey and to enjoy it too. For hemight not travel this way again.

Just at that moment, the little boy became aware thatthere were some people close by. He looked around andcaught sight of two young boys. He found these boys sostrange that he couldnt help but stand there and stare atthem for a moment.

Seen with ordinary eyes, there was nothing specialabout these boys. They looked just ordinary. In fact, onelooked a little ugly and the other rather clumsy. Onewalked miles away from his home looking for books toborrow and read, and the other strayed around his homestudying 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 forgetthat you are a poor lad who lives in a log cabin. That'swhat you are and that's what you will be."

The little boy suppressed his laugh hearing theircomments. Then he waited to hear what they had to say tothe next one. They said:

"Read books and forget about bugs. Remember yourclass, your noble birth. Do what your family has alwaysdone and be what they want you to be."

The little boy was glad that these two little heroesfollowed their passion and pursued their dreams nomatter what people said. He knew who they would growup to be.


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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 hisland. "Everyone's equal and everyone's great," he said,

and lived by this principle all his life. The clumsy-lookingone became a messenger of nature and taught the worldabout her secrets. "Be fit or be extinct," he said boldly, andwho would dare disobey him!

Weve read about them in our history and sciencebooks, havent we?

Now, while the little boy was looking at these twoboys, strange questions began to pop up in his mind.What if, he thought, what if people knew who these boyswere going to be in the future? Would they behave withthem differently? How would their own parents andteachers treat these boys if they knew they were in facttwo great visionaries growing up in their care?

As he was playing with these questions, the little boyremembered his own teacher. Perhaps she had theanswers. He wanted to meet her once.

"Where could she be now?" he asked, and lookedaround searchingly. Then he slapped his forehead. "I dontreally have to look for her to find her," he said to himselflaughingly. "I could meet her anywhere I like." He decidedto meet her in a garden.

And there she was a pretty woman in a lovelygarden! 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


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shook her hand and the butterfly fluttered away. Shewaved at it as it joined its friends.

The little boy was watching all this intently. Theteacher became aware of it suddenly and she flushed a

little. Then she looked at him adoringly and smiled at himsweetly.The boy's heart skipped a beat. He smiled back at her

happily, though he looked more nervous than happy. Hisface was crimson.

"I know what you are thinking," the teacher said tohim. The boy's face turned from crimson to pale. Then,suddenly, he blinked hard and gaped at her. He realizedthat she had just spoken to him without even moving herlips!

"That's incredible!" he thought."Incredible, but true," said his teacher without

speaking. Her lips were weaving a beautiful smile. Noword was spoken. Yet the boy could hear her loud andclear.

He could hear her thoughts and she could hear his.They were talking to each other with thoughts. The boyfound it all quite amazing.

"It is indeed amazing, isn't it?" the teacher said with apleasing smile. "Each of these butterflies was once awiggly, ugly caterpillar. It had no idea that one day it

would be a butterfly. It had never thought in its wildestdreams that it would grow wings and take off into theskies."

The boy looked puzzled. He had expected the teacherwould tell him something else.


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freely paint the scenes of a deadly past and a gloomyfuture. But then, she decided to splash them with thecolors of life.

Now their hearts. She always had a free access into

their hearts. She knew their hearts were as large as theworld itself. Yet they were so fragile she could burst themwith 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 littlestars, shine. You have enough brightness in you toilluminate the whole world."

To the little boy, the teacher's words were like a bolt oflightning. He got a pleasant shock and he shivered.

That was when he realized that he had been imaginingthings. There was no teacher, no garden, no butterflies. Itwas all his imagination.

"Everything's possible in imagination," the little boysaid to himself wistfully. What a teacher she was! She sawher students as who they could be in life. And they sawher as an angel. What a way to see each other!

It pinched the little boy's heart to think that he had tocome all the way here to be able to imagine thesepossibilities.

He sighed and then looked at the colorful display of

lights at the horizon. He felt happy that he would soon bethere. 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


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looking at two unusual boys. Were they still there? Yes,they were. One was sitting on a log and reading thebiography of one of his heroes. He was dreaming to belike 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 goodluck for he knew it wasn't necessary. You look for luckwhen you are weak and full of doubt. When you arepowered by your passion and driven by your dreams, youdon't need luck. You already have it.

The little boy quietly glided away from there.


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10 Meeting a funny genius

The little boy was in no rush to reach his destination. Hewas traveling slowly, enjoying the journey, saying helloand goodbye to people, visiting places and watching theevents in history.

He saw adorable heroes and nasty villains along theway. 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 biggerhero. In place of something that was destroyed, somethinggreater and more meaningful was always constructed. He

saw that nothing defeated the human spirit that believedin the joy of living.The little boy was learning some great lessons from the

past. He felt very happy. Then, looking ahead, he saw thathis future was bright and promising. He felt even happier.He knew he was heading in the right direction. He let outa loud, jubilant cry.

At that moment he saw something strange. There wasa tiny speck on the sun. He had never seen that before.

It was all right to have spots on the moon. But a speckon the sun?! It was something truly baffling.

What was even more baffling was that the speck wascoming directly towards him at the speed of light. Itbecame bigger as it drew nearer.


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Soon it was so close that he could see it very clearly. Itwasn't something it was someone! It was a fuzzy hairedman 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 atiny speck again and was lost in space.The little boy looked in the direction of the vanishing

man and chuckled loudly. He recognized his fellowtraveler.

Who wouldn't? His picture is in almost every sciencetextbook 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 todeal with things that matter. But this man here was notonly an adult but a man of science. And he was havingfun. How could that be?

Simple. To look serious when faced with a problem is afeat anybody can accomplish. It takes a genius to take theproblem out of your head and to hitchhike on it. It takes abigger genius to laugh and have fun along the way. Thisman is certainly a genius, thought the boy. A whoppinggenius.

The boy was still looking in the direction where this

funny genius had vamoosed when he felt a pat on hisshoulder. He turned around with a start. And who shouldhe 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


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thought. "I am a normal kid, just like you." Then helaughed like a little boy and the little boy laughed withhim.

The little boy felt truly blessed standing in the shadows

of this great genius. Yet this man looked so ordinary, justlike anyone else. What was special perhaps was the lookin his eyes. They were filled with wonder.

"Did you know that I failed math at school?" said thisgenius with a wink in his eye. Then his eyes twinkled ashe whispered: "The important thing is not to fail life."

The little boy was quite impressed. He wanted to askthis genius a hundred and one questions. But he saw thathe was already getting ready to leave.

"Never stop imagining!" the genius advised as hemounted the sunbeam again. Then off he went leaving atrail of inspiration for generations to come. He washumming a strange formula as he left. It sounded like abeautiful song of the cosmos.

The little boy found this genius quite amusing and alittle 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 noone. What do you say?

The little boy smiled at his own question. Then he

waved at the genius who was just about disappearing faraway in the space.


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11Lessons from a charming wizard

Even after the genius was gone, the boy could hear thehum. But he was amazed that it wasn't melodious anylonger. It sounded like an odd crackle and it even smelled.

He sniffed the air for clues. The smell was ratherpungent and foul. Then he saw smoke. Something wasburning 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 thatbrighten the world today. Hundreds more were in theprocess of being born here; but alas, it was now going up

in smoke. The very sight of it saddened the little boy'sheart.He rushed to the scene thinking he could be of help.

But to add to his sadness, he realized that there wasn'tmuch he could do.

The little boy felt pity on the gentleman whose lab itwas. He had given his whole life to build this place. Hewas 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 thegentleman sympathetically.

At that moment a flame tried to jump at them. Theyboth stepped back in response.


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"I have so many choices, don't I?" replied thegentleman as he quietly ran his eyes around thedevastation.

"I can cry," he said, "and beat my head on this solid

ground. I can say everything's over now and jump in thefire like a coward. Or I can watch the beauty of thedancing flames and listen to their funny crackling music."

That's what he did. He looked at the inferno with aquiet smile on his face. He looked as though he wasactually happy.

His lips quivered gently. Then he uttered the mostamazing words that the little boy had ever heard from ahuman tongue.

"Thank you," the gentleman said looking at the blazingfire. "Thank you for burning my mistakes. I couldn't havedone it myself."

The little boy was deeply touched. He let out a sob anda drop of tear escaped his eye.

His respect for this gentleman grew a thousand-fold.He was a true gentleman, a charming wizard, a greathuman being.

"Tell me something, young man," the gentleman said,squatting in front of the little boy. "When you loseeverything you have, what remains?"

"Nothing," the little boy replied promptly.

"No, you remain," said the wizard. When youve losteverything, you still remain.

You still remain, he repeated. "That's the greatestnews in life."


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The wizard's eyes sparkled as he spoke. "You know,"he beamed. "You are much greater than anything that canever 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, heannounced: "Now I'll give the world my greatest gift away to keep alive the music of your soul."

The little boy observed this man keenly, and measuredhim from head to foot. He was a giant of humangreatness. No mistake, no failure and no fear could everdefeat him.

Yet this giant was once a little boy. A poor little boywho was sad, scared and lost. The world thought he wasworthless, unteachable. He was even thrown out of school there was no place for him there.

It was his mother who saw the hidden passion andgreatness in him. She decided to teach him herself and toshow him what he could be in life.

How wonderful it is to have someone who believes inyou!

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 tothe world. The secret is to know that you have that gift or


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that genius already in you and sure enough it will bethere. Find it, love it and live it!

The little boy was still thinking these refreshingthoughts when he heard a commotion of voices.

He saw that a large crowd had gathered around thescene, and they were starting to douse the fire. Thegentleman, who was a great soul indeed, stood there withhis head hung low. Not in shame, nor in desperation. Butin humility, in gratitude.

When he raised his head again, he didnt see thedevastation. Instead he saw there a most magnificentlaboratory, 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 andshook his hand briskly. But the tiny spark had done its job.

The boy's hand was now burning brightly. It wasshining. It was golden.

Clearly, it was a spark not of fire but of the little boy'sown 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 theshining hand of the boy.


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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 washeaded.

"She's one of the most beautiful women that have everwalked on earth. Her passion is as fresh as the morningdew. Her touch is as soft as silk."

The little boy listened with interest as the gentlemandescribed the person he was supposed to meet. Perhaps

he wants me to deliver a message to her, he thought. Butwhere 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 bythe deep and lovely wrinkles that grace her face. She livesin the city of joy."

The little boy sighed happily for he now knew who itwas. "It will be a pleasure to meet her," he said to thegentleman. "Do you have a message for her?"

"No. It's she who has a message for you."


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12 The greatest healers in the world

The boy said goodbye to the wise old wizard and left. Onthe way, he couldn't help wondering what the messagecould 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. Thenhis 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'tknow 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 hadnot been loving. He had never hugged his father when hecame home from work. He had never thanked him for thethings he did. It was all taken for granted.

Many times he had seen his father sad, tired and inpain. Maybe he had a rough day. Maybe he was unsure ofhimself and needed support. Maybe the child in him criedfor love.

What if I had thrown my hands around him and said:'Everything's going to be all right, dad'? Would that havehelped him in some way? What if I had looked into hisweary eyes and said these well-meaning words 'I loveyou'? Would that have made any difference? How wouldthat make him feel?


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The boy tried to imagine how his father would feel orwhat he would do. Would he jump with joy and dancewith delight? No, he wouldn't. He'd look like a crazybaboon 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 glitterand 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 promisingany longer. He forgot about his mission. Nothingmattered 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 feltso good to be home.

The little boy knocked on the door and waited withbated breath. He was dying to see his parents. But he wasunsure how they would react. His heart fluttered.Thoughts ran wild in his mind.

What questions would they ask? Would they be angrybecause 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 andasked:

"Is anything the matter, son? You're home early."

The little boy was flabbergasted to hear his mother'swords. Home early? What does she mean? As far as Iknow, I'm home late. Not by a few hours, but by days. I'vebeen away for days!

"I'm I'm" he stammered, not knowing what to say.


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"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 easythat 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 greatlydisappointed 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. Hecouldn't tell whether he was actually in his real home orhe was dreaming that he was in his real home.

"Do you have anything to say, young man?" fatherasked again. He had a stern look on his face and hesounded frighteningly real.

"Yes, I have something to say," replied the boy withsudden, 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 fortaking 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 twomost wonderful people in the whole world. You are my


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true heroes and I look up to you. And I know you won'tever let me down.

"You have been great parents," he said in a loudwhisper. 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 isreal and what is not, and sometimes I don't know what isright and what is wrong. There are times when I cant tellwhether what I am doing is good or bad. I make sillymistakes now and then. I may even commit dreadful actsout 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? Ican share with you all my secrets, can't I? If not you, thenwho?

"Can I also ask you questions? I have lots of them. Butyou wont laugh at my questions, will you? Even if theyare silly. It will hurt me if you laugh and I may fear asking

questions again. You may not know the answer to everyquestion I ask, but that's OK. What matters is that youlisten to me and so you respect me."

The little boy finally asked: "Do you love me?" Then helooked 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 iswhat they said:


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"Indeed we love you. You can ask us anything and you

can tell us everything. Our love for you is large enough tohold 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 achance. Raise your ugly heads again and you'll bepulverized with the power of love."

The little boy then lunged towards his father withoutwarning. He caught hold of him with his tender handsand hugged him tightly. Then he landed a sweet peck onhis mother's cheek. Then he opened the door and dashedout.

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 hadever happened before. Their timid little boy wasn't thesame anymore.

They looked in the direction he had left and then theylooked 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 atwinkle in their eyes, a smile on their lips and joy in theirhearts.

Together they blessed their son. They knew he'd findhis way. Proud parents they were.


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13The secret of a peaceful warrior

The little boy smiled to his heart's content. He was justthere in the corner of the street, hiding. He had beensecretly watching his parents from there. Naughty littleboy!

His parents loved him well there was no doubt aboutit. Their love wasnt wrapped in fear and there were no

worries attached. Their love was the purest pearl from thedeepest ocean. From the ocean of creation itself. Where lifesprings out of the bubble of mystery.

The little boy waved at his parents and blew them akiss each. Then he went swiftly down the street, riding on

the wind. "Nothing can stop me now!" he declared. "Noone 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 outon his bare chest. This old man needed the support of acane to walk. Where did he get the power to stop the forceof the wind? Who was he?

"You are forgetting who you are," said the old man,much to the boy's surprise. "Wake up, remember!


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The secret of a peaceful warrior

Remember that you are on a mission. Remember themessage."

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 theirpresence. The boy suddenly felt it. He felt the heat.

A furnace of passion burned in those eyes. It burnedsilently and invisibly, yet very intensely. The boy feltsweat building up on his brow. Soon he was so hot that he

could no longer bear it. He swiftly shook his head andtook 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 andgasped for breath.

The old man was coolly smiling at him. He had justhelped the little boy to wake up from a long and deepdream. In the dream he had visited his parents.

The little boy shook his head again to be sure that hewas fully awake. Then he looked at the thin old man infront of him. He instantly recognized him. He was one ofthe strongest and most courageous men that he had everknown.

The old man was a peaceful warrior. He won his fightsby receiving punches rather than by inflicting them on


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others. He built his strength to receive pain, and heinvited his opponents to hit him hard. The harder they hithim the more it hurt them, not him. He was a cleverfighter indeed. He was a hero for the millions that he

fought for.The little boy joined his hands before him in a beautifulnamaste. It was a sign of love, respect and honor.

While the boy's hands were in this position, somethingelse was happening too. The glow from his golden handwas flowing into his other hand and it was spreading toother parts of his body.

The great warrior placed his hand on the little boy'shead. "Now follow your mission," he said, "and dontforget the message."

"I will follow my mission and I won't forget themessage," echoed the little boy. Then he added: "But, ohgreat teacher, before I leave, I want to know the secret ofyour great life."

"Oh, that's simple," laughed the old master. "I found acause 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 lookingsomewhat lost.


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14The mother of love and the call of the heart

In no time at all he was in a dirty little slum in a grand oldcity. The little boy had come here for a reason.

He had come to meet an old and compassionatewoman who lived here. The wizard had said that she hada message for him. The warrior had reminded him aboutthe 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 ailingman, consoling a poor woman and feeding a wailingchild.

As he waited, the little boy looked around. He sawfilth, sickness and hunger. His heart wept.When the loving woman appeared before him, the

little boy stood up to greet her. She smiled at himtenderly, 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. Thesick will be healed and the hungry will have enough toeat. 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 glowedbrilliantly and she moved with the grace of an angel. She


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didn't just look beautiful, she was beautiful. Her beautyrippled from the core of her heart and permeated herevery thought and action. The little boy instantly fell inlove with this great woman.

She was great not because she nursed the sick, fed thehungry and chanted some prayers. She was great becauseshe had given her life to a cause greater than herself. Yes,she too.

"What about me?" thought the boy. He knew he had agolden future ahead of him. But he wasn't excited about itany longer. He didn't want a golden future, he wanted agreat life. He wanted to make a difference and live a life ofmeaning.

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. Heheard a desperate cry for help. But whose cry was it?

The cry got louder and louder until it became adeafening scream.

The little boy could take it no more. He franticallycovered his ears with his hands. But it was a fruitless try.Perhaps you can block away the helpless cries of countlesspeople, but you can never escape the screams of your own

heart.The old woman gently removed the little boy's handsfrom his ears. "Listen to the call of your heart, my son,"she said.

"My heart?" The boy looked bewildered.


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He looked at the old woman for answers. Her face wascalm, quiet and serene. Wisdom was written on the linesof her face just as love was written in the veins of her heartand service was written in palms of her hands. She was

nodding at him affectionately."Go, my son," she said to him kindly. "Go, answer thecall." Then she immediately returned to her work. She hadother cries to attend to.

The boy was confused. She had told him to answer thecall but she didn't tell him how.

He lingered around the place for a while not knowingwhat to do. Then he just left from there not knowingwhere to go.

He wandered aimlessly. He still heard the cries, and hetruly wanted to reach out and help. But he just didn'tknow how.


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15 The present

The little boy sat down and sighed in desperation. Hefelt hopelessly confused and painfully sad.

Just moments ago, he was bubbling with joy andaspiring to meet his future. Where did that joy andenthusiasm go now? He looked like a dejected soldier whohad 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 aboulder at a riverbank. It was the same boulder and thesame riverbank where he had first met the golden-hairedstranger. Yes, it was the same place, unmistakably thesame. The sand, the rocks, the river everything was thesame. He was back to where he had begun!

The little boy couldnt believe what was happening. Itwas such an uncanny experience.

How come Im here? he said looking at the golden-haired boy. I mean, I was gone.

You were never gone, replied his friend, smilingsoftly and gently. You were here all the while.

What do you mean I wasnt gone? questioned thelittle boy rather aggressively. What about all the people Imet, the caveman and the fuzzy-haired genius? What


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about the journey, the dance, the pyramids? Yes, thepyramids I was there! And the woman I met at last, thatsaintly mother, what about her? She said I must listen tothe call of my heart. And then, suddenly, I find myself

here. Whats all this? How long has it been? What day istoday?The golden-haired boy looked straight into the little

boys eyes and said calmly, No time has passed at all, mydear friend, and you havent left this place. You werealways here and now.

Isnt it wonderful, the golden-haired boy continued,to reach places without even leaving where you are? Isntit truly wonderful to experience your past and the futureand yet be present all the time?

The little boy thought about it for a while. Yes, it wasindeed a wonderful experience. But was it real? Wasnt itall a figment of his imagination?

Ah, imagination! said the golden-haired boydelightedly, his eyes lighting up. Youre right, its allimagination. Imagination is the real thing!

Do you see this world around you? said the golden-haired boy, quickly pointing around him. Its therebecause you have imagined it. Its your creation, master!

The golden-haired boy said those last words with anunusual 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


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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, heasked, Who are you really? Tell me who you are andwhy 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. Hewas 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 fromhis right. Then replies came from every direction. It waslike a symphony of a thousand voices, all chanting, Imhere.

It seemed as though everything on that riverbank wasreplying 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 miraculousthan anything that he had ever seen or experienced before.


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16

In the secret gardenDoes 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

Little Master : Discover Your Greatness

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