Gulnara Burhanova

gb-007На данный момент, я работаю и живу со своей семьей в Лондоне. Более 16 лет работаю в разных благотворительных организациях, в основном с детьми нуждающимися в поддержке и опоре. Кроме этой деятельности, я еще работаю оказывая духовную консультацию людям, которые хотят получше понять себя и смысл своей жизни. Когда остается время от работы и семьи, люблю рисовать акварелью.

At the moment I work and live in London, with my family. All my life I have been working with various charitable organisations, mostly with disadvantaged children and lately with people with chronic health conditions. I also provide spiritual counselling to people, who want to know deeper about their soul and their mission in life. When I have a spare time after work and family commitments, I love spending time painting watercolour.

Fable “Tima, the flying frog”


One, two, three and up, Tima, the frog leaped with all his might and took to the air. He flew higher and higher, flapping with his feet to navigate among the trees until he was up above them. Everything around was cool and clean as it usually is after rain. He took a deep breath in and noticed how every cell of his body welcomed a wave of fresh air. He took in another deep breath and another, as if trying to pump up his whole body, all the way to his little toes. The deeper he was breathing in the bigger his body felt. In fact, it was getting lighter. Now his flying became easy and effortless. His body was so light that it felt as if it was dissolving into the air.


He looked down and smiled to the fields with their crops, to the trees and hills beneath, then to the thousands of stars in the sky. He greeted the whole world, seen and unseen. Now his whole body was lit up with a radiant smile coming from his heart.

Somewhere, very far, beyond this place, there was a memory of something to worry about. Something about his kin, something to do with responsibility, but Tima pushed it away so as not to disturb his joy.  Now, he knew that he was part of a magnificent family, the Universe, where he was immensely loved and cherished.  The vast Universe was holding the tiny frog with great care. And he did not feel tiny at all.


He was enjoying the flight and the breeze, when suddenly he heard a familiar voice coming from a far distance. It sounded almost like an echo in the mountains.  It was calling his name. ‘Timaaa, Timaa.’


‘Wake up, it is breakfast time,’ the same voice said again, coming a lot closer.  Hearing it, he tried to fly away as fast as he could. But the more he tried the less strength he had. Each new stroke brought him closer to the ground. He finally found himself lying on his little lily pad.


No, it can’t be a dream, it can’t be just another dream, he thought.

‘Tima, darling,’ said his mother swimming towards him. Seeing the face of her son, she immediately guessed what had just happened.

‘Oh, no,’ she thought to herself, ‘he again had one of his terrible flying dreams’.

Actually, she did not mind her son dreaming of anything, as long as he kept his dreams separate from real life. And Time did not.  After such dreams Tima would become obsessed with thoughts of flying. This resulted in all sorts of disgraceful behaviour. There were times when he tried flying from trees. There were hours of him watching birds teaching their offspring to fly. His attempts to make wings out of leaves made everyone in their pond laugh and sneer at him. She felt helpless. She did not know how to stop her son having those dreams, neither did her son.


‘Son,’ she said finally climbing over into his lily pad, ‘it is breakfast time, all your worms are going to escape if you don’t come up now’.

The thought of worms made Tima feel even worse. His mom could see that, but she preferred not to start a dispute over the food.

‘Mum?,’ said Tima quietly.

‘Yes, ’ said his mother, knowing exactly where this conversation was  going.

‘Do you think there might be a chance that I am dreaming now?  I mean, maybe I am dreaming that I cannot fly but in reality I can?’  said Tima.

‘No, absolutely not’ said his mum.  Then she suddenly jumped into the water, making a big splash that went all over her son. She climbed back onto his lily pad with a big grin on her face and said: ‘Look, the water did not wake you up, because you were awake already.  Everything you see now is real unlike in your flying dreams’.


‘But why do I have these dreams?’ he said as if he was in pain. He asked the question knowing what the answer was going to be. The answer he hated to hear again. The answer, that would not bring peace to his heart but push him more in search of other explanations.

‘Tima, we talked about dreams hundreds of times before, didn’t we?’ she said, giving out a heavy sigh.  ‘Remember? They are just like fairy tales. We dream of something that we want to have or fear to have, right?’

Tima nodded.

‘You should not take them so seriously, they are like bubbles, you have them one minute and next minute they burst’.


Now Tima could feel her growing impatience.

‘And, to be able to fly you need wings, don’t you?’ she continued.

Tima nodded again still saying nothing. There was a heavy pause.

‘Why?’ Why?,’ said his mum, a little softer this time. ‘Why do you want to fly so much? There is nothing in the air. I mean in the sky, even birds have to come down onto the earth to find some food’.

‘I simply want it, mum. Or maybe it is my soul that wants it,’ said Tima, half speaking to her, half to himself.

‘What are you talking about?’

Now she sounded as if she was in pain. ‘Nobody knows for sure whether we have souls or whether it is just a beautiful idea,’ she continued.

‘I do, protested Tima, ‘I know I do have a soul, mum’.

His mother looked at him for a moment as if not knowing what to say, then she suddenly broke into a big smile. ‘You ARE a big dreamer, aren’t you my little boy?’ Then she pulled him towards her to give him a kiss. Tima did not like that.


‘Come on.  Come and have breakfast with us,’ she said again. Then she jumped into the water, this time without a single splash, and disappeared behind the rushes.

Now it was Tima, who sighed. Why, why can’t I fly, he thought, looking at his feet.  ‘There it happens so easily, as simple as breathing’. His dream was still all over him. He could not shake it off.

Then he pulled himself together and slowly swam  in the direction of a big lily pad, where his family was having their breakfast.

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