The Young lady Who Posed Huge Inquiries
Five-year-old Mahi dislike different youngsters. While messes with her age played together, snickering and talking, Mahi favored the calm. She found solace in sitting alone under a major tree, watching the manner in which the breeze made the branches influence. She enjoyed paying attention to the delicate mumbles of nature - the stirring leaves, the murmuring honey bees, the far off hoot of an owl.
She didn't talk a lot, not on the grounds that she didn't have anything to say, but since nobody appeared to comprehend the contemplations twirling inside her brain. Individuals were excessively clearly, excessively quick, as well... unique.
One night, as she watched the brilliant sun vanish behind the trees, she went to her mom.
"Who made the trees?" she asked delicately.
"They simply develop," her mom said with a delicate grin.
"Be that as it may, how? Also, why?" Aira murmured, more to herself than to her mom.
She frequently felt like a pariah, as though she didn't have a place with this world. The loud roads, the perpetual prattle - everything felt odd, as though she had some way or another arrived on some unacceptable planet. Was there a spot where she really had a place?
That evening, as she nestled into bed, she made a wish.
"I want to track down the responses," she murmured to the stars.
Furthermore, some place, in the calm hug of the universe, something tuned in.