Aarav could not sit still. He had tried, because Dadu had asked him to, but his eyes kept darting after every passing thing — a dog, a kite, a sweet-seller — his ears caught every sound, and his thoughts hopped about like sand-crabs.

"I can't do it," he said. "There's too much. The noise gets in. The pictures get in. My mind won't be quiet."

They were sitting on the cool stone steps near the temple, in the shade. Just then a small tortoise came plodding across the warm flagstones. A crow swooped at it, cawing. At once the tortoise stopped — and pulled its head, its four legs, and even its little tail inside its shell. The crow pecked the hard dome twice, found nothing, and flapped away. After a moment, the tortoise put its head out and went calmly on its way.

"Did you see that?" said Dadu.

"It hid in its shell," said Aarav.

"It did more than hide," said Dadu. "When the world got too loud and too sharp, it drew everything inward — its head, its legs, all the parts that reach out and touch the world. It made itself quiet and gathered. And once it was safe and still inside, the noise outside couldn't reach it anymore."

He turned to Aarav. "Krishna taught Arjuna to do the very same thing. He said: gently close the gates — that's your eyes and ears and all your senses, the parts that reach out and grab at the world. Let them rest. Then take your busy, hopping mind and bring it home, into your heart, where it can settle. Draw your breath up, quiet and steady. And just stay there, gathered, like a tortoise tucked safely inside."

"But how do I close my eyes and ears?" Aarav asked.

"Try," said Dadu. "Close your eyes first — one gate shut. Now notice the sounds, but don't chase them; just let them pass, like the crow flapping away. Now feel your breath, slow, going in and out. Bring your attention down here, to your heart." He laid a warm hand on Aarav's chest.

Aarav closed his eyes. The sweet-seller's call drifted by — and, for the first time, he let it drift, without running after it. His breath slowed. The hopping in his mind grew quieter. He sat, gathered and still, tucked inside his own small calm shell. And outside, the loud bright world went on, unable to reach him.