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The dove! The dove!
His parents called from the shade of a grove where they had seated themselves on the edge of a well. He ran towards them.
A shower of young flowers fell upon the child as he entered the grove, and, forgetting his parents, he began to gather the raining petals in his hands.
He heard the cooing of doves and ran towards his parents, shouting. The raining petals dropped from his forgotten hands.
They called to the child, who had gone running in wild capers round the banyan tree.
Having gathered the child , they took the narrow, winding footpath which led to the fair through the mustard fields.
As they neared the village, the child could see many other footpaths full of throngs. converging to the whirlpool of the fair and he felt fascinated by the confusion of the world he was entering.