“Did he get it back?” asked a little girl with a mole on her lip.
“You never saw me,” the shadow replied. “You only stepped on me. Now I am going to the island where shadows learn to sing.” panu galpo
Bhramar lowered his voice to a whisper. “Kanai wandered the forest for seven monsoons. He ate berries that tasted of forgetting. He drank water that turned his teeth blue. Finally, he reached the singing island—and what did he see? His shadow, now seven feet tall, wearing a crown of fireflies, teaching a chorus of shadows how to mimic the call of the Hargila stork.” “Did he get it back
End of tale.
He told them of a fisherman named Kanai, who was so greedy that he cast his net into the forbidden creek, where the Bonbibi — the guardian of the forest — walked at noon. Kanai caught no fish, but he caught something else: a small, laughing mirror made of polished bone. When he looked into it, his shadow stepped off the ground, bowed to him, and walked into the mangroves without a backward glance. Now I am going to the island where shadows learn to sing
The Last Tale of Panu's Grandson