Unni's Forest

 

In a small village nestled at the edge of a lush forest, lived a boy named Unni. He was nine years old, with twinkling eyes, an infectious laugh, and a heart so full of joy it seemed to overflow into everything he touched. Unni had Down syndrome, which made him see the world in a way others couldn't—brighter, deeper, and less complicated.

Unni’s days began with the rising sun and the soft notes of his favourite bamboo flute carved out of Bamboo by his father. Every morning, as birds burst into song and the forest awakened slowly, Unni would stand at the edge of the trees and play, a single simple note, and one that he played every day, but also one loved by the forest, where the monkeys chattered, the peacocks called, and sometimes even the elephants seemed to listen while on their morning patrol.

The forest was Unni’s sanctuary. He hugged the towering Sal trees who he called his “giant friends” and loved to run barefoot on the soft mossy ground, chasing the butterflies and jumping up down to catch the winds.

One day, while exploring a small stream with his mother, Unni found a wounded baby bird beneath a bush. He pointed it out to his mother, who gently, scooped it up, cradling it as if it were made of glass. She helped him build a little nest from twigs and leaves, and for days, Unni nursed the bird, humming lullabies he made up on his flute. When the bird finally flew again, Unni danced with joy, often tumbling through the tall grass, his laughter radiating pure happiness.

Music, next to nature, was his greatest love. He would mimic the rustle of leaves, hoot with the owls, hum like the bees while not playing with his flute.  His older sister, Meera, often joined him with her harmonium and soft voice and together they would sit by the bonfire on chilly nights, playing their songs for the stars and their friends in the forest.  The villagers loved gathering at the performance by the unusual pair who made the forest sing.

Despite challenges in learning and communication, at times, Unni taught everyone something greater—patience, kindness, and the beauty of being present. When he played, he wasn’t just a boy with Down syndrome. He was a musician, a healer, a wild spirit in tune with the earth.

One evening, as golden light filtered through the trees, Unni sat with his flute beneath his favourite Banyan tree. The forest was still, listening. He closed his eyes, breathed deeply, and played a melody full of wonder. Unni wasn’t just happy—he was whole, wrapped in the rhythm of the forest and the music of his soul. And the world, for once, slowed down with him and played with him in harmony

 Image: AI generated