Tag Archives: storytelling

And so Sara sings

Sara is a little girl. She is nine years old and loves to sing. She has a lovely voice.

Sara lives with her uncle and aunt, far away from her mom and dad because her mom and dad are very poor. They do not have a proper house. Sara’s aunt promised her mother that she will give her music lessons and help her become a great singer. But the evil aunt never gave any lessons to Sara. She makes her do all the cleaning and cooking.

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“Do you know how much does it cost to take music lessons? Who will pay for your lessons? Your mom?”

Sara spends her mornings working in the field, and the rest of the day, she cleans and cooks for her aunt. The time she spends working on the fields is the best time of her day, because she can sing while working. Her aunt will not be around to scold her.

Today Sara is working on the fields. It is a beautiful morning and Sara has a beautiful song in her mind. She closes her eyes and starts singing.

Her voice flies with the breeze across the open fields.

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It flies and flies and meets a tree. There is a mynah family living there.

“What a beautiful voice you are! Go southwards. You will meet someone who will be very happy to meet you”, says the mynah.

The voice flies and flies and meets a deer.

 

“Hey, you sound so good. Go further south. You will meet someone who will be very happy to meet you”, says the deer.

The voice flies and flies and reaches a unicorn.

“I haven’t heard anything as beautiful as you in so many years. Go further south. You will meet someone who will be very happy to meet you.”

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The voice travels further south. There’s a little hut there. And there’s another beautiful voice coming from there. The voice flies to the hut. Gets inside, finds an ear and disappears inside it. It belongs to a music guru.

“Ah, what a voice! Who does this belong to? I was looking for such a perfect voice for so long. I must find this person.”

The guru goes around the place asking everyone if they just heard the most beautiful voice in the world. He reaches the unicorn who says, “Yes, I sent it to you. It came from that direction.”

The guru now meets the deer. The deer says, “Yes, I sent it towards you. It came from that direction.”

The guru goes ahead and meets the mynah family.

“Oh yes, I knew it would finally find you. It came from the fields”, says the mynah chirpily.

The guru spotts the little girl still humming the same song. He goes upto her.

“Hello little girl. Do you know, you have a beautiful voice that touches hearts. Do you want to learn music?”

Sara wants nothing else!

Sara tells her aunt that she is going to learn music with the great guru. He does not need any money in return. Now the aunt has nothing to say.

And so, Sara sings and goes on to become a great singer who also teaches music to children without charging them any fee.

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The ‘Pumpking’ Soup

King Sondumal was just like his name. Always sleepy and lazy. He had a huge kingdom but he didn’t try to make it rich, strong or happy. People came to him with their problems, but they were always sent back saying the king was resting.

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King Sondumal’s kingdom was in a bad condition. People were poor and unhappy. But do you know who was the unhappiest person in the kingdom? It was the royal cook. He worked hard to grind the spices, cut the vegetables, cook them into rich curries, but the king never liked what he cooked. Everyone else loved what he cooked. But it was just the king who never even finished his meals.

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“What a tasteless curry! You call yourself the royal cook? You don’t know how to make a simple potato curry. Take it away”, the king would shout and go back to bed.

The cook prepared the next meal with even more dedication. But it was impossible to please the king.

One day the cook had an idea. He went to the king and said, “My Lord, I want to treat you to the tastiest meal in the world.”

The king made a face. “ You cannot make a simple

“ You cannot make a simple daal and you talk about treating me to the tastiest meal?”

“Yes my lord, trust me. Pumpkin soup- it’s the tastiest meal in the world.”

“Would someone take this madman away? or should I throw him in the jail? Pumpkin soup is the most tasteless thing in the world. Do you understand?” yelled the king in frustration.

The cook was unafraid. He said, “What if I prove you wrong? I have a ‘pumpking’ growing in my garden.”

“A pumpking? What’s that??” asked the king.

“It’s a royal pumpkin and the tastiest breed of pumpkin. It’s so royal that when anyone who is not a king touches it, it rots immediately. So all I want from you is to go to my garden and bring that ‘pumpking’. I will make you a soup so yummy that you would want it every day. If I fail, you can put me in the jail.”

The king was surprised at his confidence. And he was curious about this ‘pumpking’ growing in his garden. So he agreed.

He called for his chariot.

“My lord, you cannot take a horse or a charioteer with you. They are not kings. The king has to go alone to the garden and pick the pumpking”, said the cook.

So the king walked towards the cook’s home. He found that the cook lives uphill. He started climbing the hill on foot. In just 15 minutes he was sweating and panting heavily. And the cook’s home was still far.

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The king kept walking and walking for 2 more hours and reached the cook’s home at the top of the hill. He found the ‘pumpking’ in his garden.  It was huge. He picked it and carried it back to his palace.

The ‘pumpking’ was too heavy and the road was too long. The king walked for another 2.5 hours before he reached his palace.

He was fuming.

“Now if you don’t make a good meal out of this, I am going to kill you,” said the king.

The cook went inside and quickly made the ‘pumpking’ soup- bland and tasteless.

He served it in the royal bowl to the king who was very tired and hungry.

As soon as he saw the soup, he gulped it down.

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“I can’t believe this! This is definitely tastier than anything I have tasted till now,” declared the king.

And then he asked for two more bowls of ‘pumpking’ soup.

The cook was happy. Back in the kitchen, the cook’s helpers tasted the soup.

“There’s no salt! It tastes horrible,” said the helpers.

“I told you, it’s a royal pumpkin. Only the kings will find it tasty”, said the cook smiling to himself.

 

But kids, you are smart. You know the truth, right? The king worked hard for the first time. He walked for hours carrying the pumpkin on his shoulders, got tired and hungry. So he found even the saltless pumpkin soup tasty. Those who work hard, enjoy their meals the most.

 

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The bag of stories

A day without a story, is a day wasted.

That’s what Aarshi believed. She has been listening to stories since her birth. Yes, even when she couldn’t talk or understand. She would watch her mom talk, and while talking mom would raise her brows, move her hands, nod, smile, lower her voice to a whisper and suddenly go loud. Aarshi loved that so much. She could watch her do that for hours.

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Every night Aarshi would listen to a story and she would not know the point when she would doze off. The story would then continue in her dreams.

On a clear moon night, her mother told her a story of a boy who wished to gift his granny  something really precious, unique and rare. He didn’t know what that could be. He spent hours thinking about an ideal gift. When he could not sleep at night, he went to his terrace and stared at the stars. Suddenly, a huge butterfly came flying and perched on the roof…..

Aarshi started snoring. Mom kissed her goodnight and switched off the lights.

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In her dreams, Aarshi was the boy standing on his terrace gazing at the stars. The butterfly asked why he is not happy. The boy told the butterfly he wished to gift his granny the most magnificent thing in the world. But what could that be? The butterfly asked, “do you like the stars?” The boy said, “They are beautiful. I wish I could string them together and gift my granny a sparkling, twinkling necklace of stars.” And so it happened, the huge butterfly took the boy to the stars and he had the perfect gift for his granny.stars

“Take me back home” said the boy. “Right away” said the butterfly and they flew straight down towards his terrace. Suddenly, an evil witch came out of nowhere and cursed the butterfly for helping the boy steal the stars.

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The butterfly became tiny, like any other butterfly. And down came Aarshi falling…falling….

There was thud. And mom came running to Aarshi’s room.

Aarshi gave a sheepish grin.

Such was Aarshi’s love for stories.

But all good things come to an end, right?

One night, as usual, Aarshi said, “mom, tell me a story?”

But pat came a reply, “No story today, Aarshi. Mamma’s bag of stories is empty.”

“Bag of stories? I never knew you took stories out of a …a bag?”

“Yes, I always did. Every storyteller has a bag of stories. And it is said, if you take out a story, you need to replace it with another story. Otherwise, the bag would soon be empty. But, I kept taking out stories from the bag. You never helped me replace it with another. So now, there are no more stories in the bag”, mom shrugged.

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“But…but.. mom, how could I have helped?”

“When I tell you a story, you tell me another. I’ll put it into the bag. This way our bag would never be empty.”

“But I don’t know any?”

“I am sorry. Can’t help. You’ll have to sleep without a story now.” Mom left the room.

Aarshi never thought this day would come!

She would have to think of new stories to refill the bag.

Aarshi took out her diary. A beautiful golden diary her mom had gifted on her 6th birthday. Now is the time to put it to use.

Aarshi started thinking and writing stories. And to her surprise, she couldn’t stop!

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Writing stories was fun, even better than listening to them.

Within a week, Aarshi had written, 15 short stories. Of fairies and witches; of grannys and nannys; of unicorns, dragons and dianosaurs; of animals and mermaids.

One morning, as usual, a story came to her mind, and Aarshi rushed to get her diary.

But hey!

Where’s the diary?

“I kept it safely in my shelf last night. Where did it go?”

Aarshi looked for it everywhere. But it was of no use.

4 days passed. It was Aarshi’s birthday.

At the strike of 12, Aarshi wished herself “Happy Birthday” and went to sleep. But there was something under her pillow.

A book!

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My bag of stories by Aarshi.

And then came a voice from behind. “Happy Birthday, my little storyteller.”

Mom was smiling.

“You are now a bag of stories. Never let the stories in you come to an end. Keep refilling the bag.”

Aarshi gave a tight hug to mom. It was her 8th birthday, but the storyteller in her was just born.

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“You are now a bag of stories. Never let the stories in you come to an end. Keep refilling the bag”

Aarshi gave a tight hug to mom. It was her 8th birthday, but the storyteller in her was just born.

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The Story of Two Brothers

Once upon a time,
There were no days,
Nothing called time,
Nothing called dates.

No Calendars, No Clocks,
No Roosters, Hens or Cocks
What a life it was then,
I think people used to have fun.

But then were born 2 brothers
With names so unique
They broke into fights
Everytime they tried to speak

They were the famous
Today and Tomorrow,
Who brought to the world
All the sorrow.

Suddenly people started
Worrying a bit too much,
Leaving good things like,
Afternoon naps and evening munch

And oh, these brothers,
Never liked each other,
And fought uselessly,
On who among the two is elder

Tomorrow makes people
Dream about the future
Alas, Tomorrow never comes
Coz, ditching is in its nature.

Today, however, to remind everyone,
Comes back everyday,
And says, that while the sun is shining
You should make hay

Sadly, people think,
Its brother is better,
They don’t know, however,
It’s not gold, just the glitter.

But, hey kids, you know better,
I know, you are wise,
And Today is valuable,
In a wise man’s eyes.

So don’t waste your time,
Making castles in air,
Coz your dream slips away
With every second you spare

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If the world is boring….

If the world is boring,

And nothing’s worth exploring,

Create something new,

In stories you can stew.

 

Of fairies and dolls,                                                                                                  

Giants and trolls,

And everything in world,

That walks and crawls.

 

You don’t have an idea,

What fun it has,

In making up things like,

A hundred plaited lass.

 

I know some stories,

Infact they are many,

Come listen to me,

And stop bothering your granny!

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