The Brahmin and His Magic Mantra

A Jataka story

The days were growing warmer. It was almost summer, and the air was fragrant with the scent of mango blossom. A pair of sparrows was hopping about in the shade of a mango tree, lazily searching for an afternoon snack.

“The harvest will be good this year,” predicted the old male, squinting at the mango flowers. He had seen many summers and considered him…