Elephant Festival day, India

Guy jumped through the window - since it took longer to exit through the door, he habitually chose the other way outside - and went for a stroll. He briefly focused his attention on the huge banyan tree that towered over the house even though it stood a considerable distance away. Its roots, which showed above the ground, looked like once-liquid wood, now frozen and motionless.

For all its grandeur, the tree felt familiar, as opposed to the sounds coming from somewhere behind its massive trunk - music, the clamour of crowds and something else, a faint reverberation almost the kind Guy would sense before an earthquake, only much steadier. Rhythmic, almost. It had been this that had stirred his curiosity and drew him from the cool shade - a fairly rare occurrence - gifted by the roof.

Guy was young, but he was never inclined to go or play outside. He only did so when he had to or in moments of perfect boredom. Even so, he had never explored the area beyond the banyan tree - it seemed a forbidden land, sealed away from him by the giant, untiring guardian with its menacing roots. No guardian could remain unchallenged forever, though.

As he carefully circled the tree, Guy felt pushed forward on a wave of exhilaration; he had always imagined standing up to the guardian would involve serious physical strain, most likely followed by a shameful escape. As it was, none of it came to be. Passing the tree seemed so easy that it was like an invitation, an impatience of joy waiting for him ahead - joy that had waited far too long.

On the other side he found himself immersed in a kaleidoscope of colours and sounds. People wore red, green, yellow and blue; wooden instruments clattered, drums roared, nearly extinguishing the lively notes of sarods, and there was a great deal of trumpeting. Above the tumult countless multi-coloured scraps, the local variation of confetti, rode the winds. In order to have a better view, Guy climbed the nearby timber-roofed well.

And there they were, grey, majestic, enormous - towers that moved, mountains that walked. Their sides and heads were adorned with splendid mosaic cloths, their feet jewelled with golden bands. Human figures danced around them like grains of sand kicked into the air by the passage of the great creatures. Close to Guy and on the other side of the path trod by the monsters, the crowd shifted in a way resembling dunes in a desert. The few surrounding buildings looked on in awe.

Guy stared in amazement. He had doubted he would ever see anything to surpass the remarkable size and solidity of the banyan tree behind his window. The walking mountains before him might be smaller, but they compensated for it with motion. Here, before Guy's keen eyes, were mobile fortresses, whereas the banyan was rooted to the ground in more than one sense. What could possibly defeat such citadels of power if they could move around and fend for themselves?

The commotion of the scene was already overwhelming enough when suddenly it turned into chaos, a loud symphony transforming into thunderous uproar. All at once there were pigs, a sea of them, sweeping into the path of the mobile fortresses like hungry lava. Guy detested pigs. They liked to chase him and knock him to the ground if they managed to catch him, all just for jest. Now they found themselves under strength against the fabulous giants; squealing in panic, they died beneath the huge feet, even as safety seemed but a few leaps away. The cheers of the gathered people were replaced with shouts of surprise and dread; the crowd scattered in all directions, some sharing the fate of the pigs.

Guy could not force himself to look away and flee. What was it that he saw in the eyes of the great, invincible creatures, now horrifying in their majestic savagery? Was it panic to match that of the pathetic pink squealing saboteurs?

One giant was racing straight for the well on which Guy had sat. As the avalanche of colourful cloth and greyness closed in on him, Guy felt a spark of courage kindle into flame within him and he locked gazes with his imminent doom, as if the sheer power of his will could avert the danger. It turned out he had but one life to spare, not nine.

Regards.