Raghu the squirrel was old. He was older than most squirrels he knew, a fact that didn’t rest easy on his heart. On the brighter side, the gods had blessed him with the monkey’s friendship. The monkey crushed walnuts for him. Things worked out nicely.
There were parts of the day Raghu looked forward to. When the birds returned at sunset from their day’s foraging, they told him of all the things they had seen as they flew over Mount Himavat and beyond. One of the younger birds came to him every day and stayed for hours, chirping away without a pause about her day.