Purchasing a Song
In a small village in Madhya Pradesh lived a husband and wife who both enjoyed humming while they worked.
One day, as the husband prepared to visit the market, his wife said, “Please bring me a new song.”
He laughed. “Do shops sell songs?”
“You will not know until you ask,” she replied with a smile.
At the market, he asked every shopkeeper he met. None had a song for sale. As evening fell, he started home empty-handed.
Beside the path, a little mouse was digging: kharr, kharr, kharr.
“That could be the first line of a song!” he thought.

Farther on, a black snake glided calmly through the grass: sarr, sarr, sarr. A rabbit peeped from a bush with bright, watchful eyes. Then a herd of deer bounded across a meadow.
The man joined the sounds together:
“Digging—kharr, kharr, kharr. Gliding—sarr, sarr, sarr. Watching—wide and bright. Leaping—out of sight!”
When he reached home, he taught the song to his wife. Soon they were singing it together.
That night, the wife softly repeated the song while turning the household grain mill. By chance, four thieves were making a hole in the back wall.
“Digging—kharr, kharr, kharr,” she sang.
The thieves froze. “She knows we are digging!”
They began creeping through the opening.
“Gliding—sarr, sarr, sarr.”
The thieves peered anxiously toward the room.
“Watching—wide and bright!”
That was enough. They scrambled back and leaped over the courtyard wall.
“Leaping—out of sight!” came the final line.

In the morning, the couple discovered footprints beside the unfinished hole. At last they understood what their unusual song had done.
They laughed until their sides ached.
“You really did bring home a useful song,” said the wife.
“The road gave it to me,” her husband replied. “I only had to listen.”
“Listen closely; inspiration may be waiting in ordinary sounds.”