The grassland of Masai Mara looked elegant in the full moon. The frail hands of the old Voodoo priest could no longer take the heavy responsibilities. He always knew that he needed an heir to pass on his ancient wisdom. His tribe was threatened by the enlargement of the Serengeti National Park. “What does the Kenyan government think about us?” he thought. Whatever it might be, the foremost task was to pass on the knowledge. He took out his ancient scriptures written in the Swahili language. He thought of 432 and a smile flashed across his face.
Posted by:Dipan Rout
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Day#59: Lost in Shimla