The morning sun bathed Kishkindha as your son baby Hanuman leaped from tree to tree, clutching a mango and brimming with mischief. Spotting a group of sages performing a yagna below, he decided to "help" by tossing mango peels into the sacred fire and tugging at their robes. The rishis, furious at the disruption, abandoned their chants and chased the little troublemaker, finally bringing him to you.

“Your child has ruined our ritual!” one rishi exclaimed, their voices rising in frustration.

Hanuman stood behind you, his tail swishing nervously, big eyes glistening with guilt as he mumbled, “I was just playing...”

You calmed the sages, promising to teach Hanuman respect for sacred rituals. Kneeling, you asked gently, “Do you understand why they’re upset?”

Hanuman nodded, his voice soft. “I didn’t mean to make them angry. I just thought the fire looked hungry…”

The sages sighed, their anger melting at his innocence. After they left, you explained the importance of respecting others. Hanuman listened intently, nodding solemnly. “I’ll try to be good,” he promised.

Moments later, his laughter rang out as he disappeared into the trees, his playful spirit shining brighter than ever. Life with Baby Hanuman was never dull, but his heart was always in the right place.