When the first monsoon clouds rolled over the village pond, the frogs got ready for their favourite season. They puffed their throats and practised their big, deep song: Brrr-rup! Brrr-rup!
All except one little frog named Kappanna.
When Kappanna tried to croak, out came a tiny whistle: Fweet! Fweet!
The Laughing Pond
The other frogs burst out laughing.
“That’s not a frog song!” said Bheemu, the biggest bullfrog. “You sound like a bird with a cold!”
“Maybe you should stay quiet,” said another. “You’ll spoil the monsoon choir.”
Kappanna’s cheeks turned from green to pink. He hopped away and sat alone under a lotus leaf while the others sang. Rain pattered around him, and he felt very small.
Practising in Secret
Every night, Kappanna tried to croak like the others. He puffed his throat until it ached. Fweet. He tried jumping while croaking. Fweet-fweet. He even tried croaking underwater, which only gave him hiccups.
An old tortoise named Tatayya watched from a nearby rock.
“Why are you trying so hard to sound like someone else?” he asked.
“Because my voice is wrong,” Kappanna said sadly.
“Wrong?” Tatayya chuckled. “In my hundred years, I have learned one thing. Nature never makes a mistake. It only makes something new.”
Kappanna wasn’t sure he believed it.
The Great Storm
One night, the biggest storm of the season swept over the pond. Thunder roared, and the rain came down so hard that the water rose and spilled over the banks.
The baby frogs, still tiny tadpoles with new legs, were swept into the tall reeds far from the pond. They were lost in the dark.
The big frogs croaked loudly to guide them home. Brrr-rup! Brrr-rup! But their deep voices were swallowed by the thunder. It all sounded the same, a low rumble in the storm.
The little ones could not tell which way was home.
A Voice That Cut Through the Storm
Kappanna climbed to the top of a lotus leaf. He took a deep breath and did the only thing he could do.
Fweet! Fweet! FWEET!
His high, clear whistle sliced through the thunder like a silver thread. Far away in the reeds, the baby frogs heard it.
“That way!” one of them squeaked. “Follow the whistle!”
One by one, they hopped through the mud toward the sound. Kappanna whistled all night long, until every single baby frog was safely home.
The New Song
In the morning, the storm had passed. The frogs gathered around Kappanna.
“Your voice saved them,” Bheemu said quietly. “I’m sorry we laughed at you.”
“We all sound the same,” said another frog. “But you sound like you.”
That evening, when the monsoon choir began to sing, something new happened. The deep brrr-rup of the big frogs was joined by a bright fweet on top, like a flute in an orchestra. It was the most beautiful song the pond had ever heard.
Tatayya the tortoise smiled from his rock. “See? Not a mistake. Something new.”
Moral of the Story
Being different is not a weakness. Your unique voice, talents, and way of being may be exactly what the world needs. Don’t hide who you are to fit in.
Questions to Discuss
- Why did Kappanna feel bad about his voice?
- What did Tatayya mean by “Nature never makes a mistake”?
- How did Kappanna’s different voice help during the storm?
- What makes you special and different from your friends?
This monsoon story is perfect for rainy-day reading and for helping children feel proud of who they are.
You May Also Enjoy
- The Weaver Who Wove the Seasons
- The Girl Who Collected Silences
- The Clever Swans and the Rushing River
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