“Did you call for rain?” A woman in a frilly white saree and opal jewellery asked, stepping closer to the tiger cub. Stitched named tag on her silver blouse read ‘Indre’.
Pouting little tiger cub let out a high-pitched cry and chuffed, as he sat on the curb and nodded, carefully curled within limited shade from the Sundari tree.
Indre’s eyes assessed the situation. “This heat isn’t looking good for you Tiger.”
Pouting little tiger cub nodded and whimpered.
“Don’t get overwhelmed, this is an easy fix” said the lady in white. Then she waved her right hand above her head in circular motion. Dark clouds began to float in. It wasn’t menacing. It was soft, tropical rain that comes after a long hot day. The little cub got up and slowly walked into the rain.
Fur wet, wet earth, wet paws – Tiger happily jumped around in the rain. “Thank you”, little Tiger chuffed. And Indre disappeared – leaving behind softrain, and a happy little tiger cub.
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