The lost child.
Storyboard Text
- It was the festival of spring. From the wintry shades of narrow lanes and alleys emerged a gaily clad humanity.
- Come, child, come.
- I WANT THAT TOY!
- Father looked at him red-eyed, in his familiar tyrant's way.
- Look, child, what is before you!
- Sigh. Now I will never get that toy!.
- It was a flowering mustard-field, pale like melting gold as it swept across miles and miles of even land.
- Yay!...I want to catch one bug!
- Come, child, come.
- As they neared the village the child could see many other footpaths full of throngs, converging to the whirlpool of the fair, and felt at once repelled and fascinated by the confusion of the world he was entering. 
- A sweet seller hawked, "Gulab-jamun, rasgulla, burfi, jalebi,"
- Come, child, come.
- I want that burfi!, I want that garland!, I want that balloon!...but my parents will never buy them for me. :(
- There was a roundabout in full swing. Men, women and children, carried away in a whirling motion, shrieked and cried with dizzy laughter. The child watched them intently and then he made a bold request:
- I want to go on the roundabout, please, Father, Mother.
- He turned to look at his parents. They were not there, ahead of him. He looked on either side. They were not there. He looked behind. There was no sign of them.
- I want my Mother, I want my father!!!!!
- Do you want the sweets?, how about the balloons? Do you want to hear the snake charmer?, Do you want a garland of flowers?
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