Mesmerised by the music, Hanuman asked, “Who are you? What is that you’re playing? It sounds like birds singing their morning song!”

“I’m Narada Muni and this is the veena,” the man looked up and answered Hanuman.

Hanuman sighed, “Oh, Narada Muni, your playing is amazing! I am Hanuman and I want to learn to play the veena just like you!”

Narada smiled, delighted by Hanuman’s eagerness. “Music is a gift that comes from the heart. I will teach you, but it is no easy task. You must promise me that you will practise and practise and dedicate your time to mastering the instrument. And once you have, you must share it with the world.”

Hanuman nodded, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

Narada began teaching Hanuman the art of the veena, but from the very first pluck, Hanuman struggled.

His large fingers fumbled over the delicate strings, their softness defying his strength. He gripped the instrument awkwardly, trying to coax out gentle notes, but only producing harsh, broken sounds that filled the air with discord. Each mistake made him grit his teeth harder, his jaw tightening as he fought to tame the veena under his touch.

Narada watched with a small, knowing smile, recognising the fierce frustration in Hanuman’s eyes and remembering the time when he, too, battled with mastery of the strings.

“There is no need to rush to be good, Hanuman,” Narada said kindly. “Take your time and be patient with yourself. Only then will the music embrace you.”

Hanuman listened, his frustration softening.

Day after day, he practised. His large fingers moved more gently now, learning to feel each string. At first, the sounds were still rough, but slowly, they became smoother, sweeter.

One evening, as Hanuman played, a little squirrel scampered close, listening to the tune he was playing. Birds perched above, tilting their heads to hear better. A deer pranced lightly through the grass, its ears flicking in delight at the melody. Hanuman barely noticed them; his focus was on the veena, his fingers moving gracefully. A beautiful melody flowed from the instrument, clear and gentle, filling the forest.

Then, something magical happened. Tiny buds on nearby trees began to open, blooming into colourful flowers. Hanuman's eyes sparkled, his smile widened as he continued to play. His music now filled life with joy.

“You are going to go far, Hanuman,” said Narada, beaming with pride at his student.

But Hanuman didn’t seem to hear him. His gaze was fixed on the strings, his fingers lightly tracing them as if discovering something hidden within each note.

Narada sensed that something deeper was brewing in Hanuman’s heart. He gave his student a pat on his shoulder and walked away, leaving Hanuman deep in his own thoughts and entranced by the music that now flowed effortlessly from his hands. 

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Hanuman played a particularly enchanting melody. Suddenly, a wave of strength and energy surged through him

“Narada! I feel something amazing!” Hanuman shouted, pausing his playing.

Narada nodded knowingly. “That is the power of music, Hanuman. It can uplift spirits and bring joy to all.”

He smiled, proud of his student, who had become a master of the veena through hard work and dedication.

Inspired by this newfound understanding, Hanuman decided to share his music with the world. He climbed to the tallest peak and played melodies that echoed through the valleys. His songs were filled with courage, friendship and joy as they reached every living creature. Animals gathered around him, enchanted by the sweet sounds, dancing and singing along in celebration.

From that day, Hanuman was known not only for his wit and strength but also for his gift as a master musician. His veena became a symbol of harmony, uniting all creatures, big and small.