Story telling

Kitty wants a box by Carol Moore - A short illustrated story

This box is too big.

This box is too tall.

This box is too short.

This box is too small.

This box is too wide.

This box is perfect inside.




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Buzzy Bee's Picnic by Carol Moore





Buzzy Bee never cuts in line.





Teamwork is good.





That's too much work.

This is delicious. You can't beat fast food.

 

Rescued again.

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Lion On The Loose!...!... by By Paro Anand

Once it started raining, it just wouldn’t stop. The sky wept great tears in an endless stream until the clouds had entered everyone’s hearts and made them feel as grey and weepy as the weather. But still it rained on and on.

Everyone stayed at home, gloomy and bored. "I wish we could DO something," moaned Geeti, "Nothing exciting ever happens to us" said Vikki.

Mummy wouldn’t let them go out but she tried to cheer them up by baking a cake. The children helped too. The cake was yummy and they ate it hot. The rest they covered and left on the table.

"I wonder what the animals and birds do?" asked Geeti thoughtfully.

"They must be cooped in their cages."

"No, silly, I mean the wild ones. The tigers in the jungles, the birds on trees, what do they do in all this rain?"

"At least they’re free. Think of the animals in the zoo. How awful for them."

And it was true. The animals in the zoo were worried and irritable. The wetness was terrible for the creatures big and small.

The more it rained, the more everything filled up with water. The moat around the lion’s enclosure filled up too. The lion watched. He was an old fellow, who had never been out of the enclosure. He had never seen anything like this before., As the water lapped the sides of the moat temptingly, the old fellow decided to make a go for it. He sniffed here, and he sniffed there. He put one paw delicately into the water and then, with one big breath, he jumped right in.

At first he sank. Then he panicked. He thought, for one awful moment that he was going to die. But he didn’t. His mighty head popped up and he paddled along until he could feel the wall just under his chin. Putting his big paws onto the wall, he heaved himself up. And then he was out. Out and free. Free to walk around the world, just as he had seen hundreds of people do. Now he, the mighty raja was going to have the adventure of a lifetime.

No one saw him for it was night and all the zoo keepers were fast asleep. Lion walked out, king of everything he saw. Softly, softly, he crept on padded feet to the enclosure next to him. He grinned in at the bear who woke up with a start.

He looked in at all the cages and thought how wonderful it was to be free.. Then he had an idea. He was going to be really free. What was the point of freedom if he was still within the four walls of the zoo? So, asking the way at every cage he passed, Lion reached the main gate.

He could smell a human. He carefully peered into the ticket booth. Sure enouch, the guard sat there. Lion was a clever old fellow and knew that the guard wouldn’t let him just walk out. So he waited and watched. The guard didn’t move. He snored gently. When lion was sure that the man was fast asleep, he padded his way past him gently.

"Hmmm – humph…" said a guard in his sleep. Lion almost roared in fright. But he didn’t, he waited quietly until he was sure that all was safe. And then he was FREE! Really free, for the very first time in his life.

He walked around, looking with wonder at the big, black, wet roads. He stared up at the high buildings and he sniffed at people huddled up, asleep in the driest corners they could find. One little child peeped out of his thin blanket and saw him. "Papa," he whispered, "there’s a lion on the loose!" "Yes. Yes," said his Papa sleepily, "he’ll go away, now get back to sleep."

And lion went on. This was the longest walk that he’d ever had. He was in the bazaar now. But, of course, everyone was fast asleep. He peered into shop windows, fascinated by the glittering things that shone there.

He walked on and on. On and on. Until he was one very wet, hungry and tired lion. He now suddenly caught the smell of freshly baked cake. He’d never smelled anything so invitingly warm or warmly inviting. Sniff! Sniff! Sniff! He found the window to Geeti and Vikki’s room open. Quickly, quietly, he jumped right in. He saw the children asleep in their soft, warm beds. And he felt like getting in with them. But first to find out where that delicious smell was coming from. Sniff! Sniff! Sniff!

Of course, with his sharp lion’s nose, he found the cake. And with his sharp lion’s teeth, he quickly gulped it down. It was delicious. Not like the smelly raw meat he got.

And now, to bed. Slipping back into the children’s room, lion tried to get into Vikki’s bed.

But it was too small for one big lion. So, he crawled under the bed and found it wonderfully cosy and just right for one big lion. Soon he was fast asleep.

Next morning, mummy woke up to find the cake missing.

"Did you eat the cake?"

"No mummy."

"Then who could it have been?"

"It must have been the lion!" said Geeti.

"What lion? Geeti, don’t be silly."

"She’s not being silly" said Vikki.

"There’s a lion under our bed!"

"What?" shouted mummy as loudly as she could. And she rushed right away to look for the lion under her children’s bed.

She looked, but there was no lion there. "Oh children," she said crossly, "You gave me a fright. Of course there’s no lion there."

"But there was mummy," protested the children. "Look, there are lion paw prints on the carpet."

"And a big wet patch on our beds."

"And lion hair on my sheet!"

Mummy had to believe them then, but try as they might, they couldn’t find the lion any more. And do you know why? The lion had a good snooze and decided to get back to his cage before there was any fuss. So he had slipped away at dawn and no one saw him going. He slipped past the guard who still lay asleep and swam back into his cage. What an adventure it had been! But he was glad to be home.

As soon as the rain stopped, Geeti and Vikki went to the zoo. They stood outside the lion’s enclosure and whispered to each other. I’m sure that our lion recognized them too, and let out a big rumbling ROAR of a thank you to his little friends.

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Limits of the Mind By Nitya

Ekalavya was a little boy, born in a poor family, many many years ago. His people lived a little away from Hastinapura, the capital of the Kuru kings. They used to clean other people's dirt for a profession.

And for this reason they were shunned by society. Ekalavya and other kids of his group knew they too had to follow their parents' professions. 

Their parents often told them, "You are not meant to go to school. What use is school for carrying garbage which is your only job?" 

"Don't go near those people; they are high born, we are low born." 

Ekalavya didn't understand. 

"Why, but why?" he asked his mother. She replied "God set these limits." 

"God! Why would God want nice things for them and dirty things for us? Hasn't God made all of us?" Ekalavya asked. 

She sighed, "Darling I don't know, but there are bounds we cannot cross, this is God's rule." 

Ekalavya became quiet. From that day the only important thing for him was to understand the meaning of "limit". 

You know, kids (and grown ups) are sometimes cruel. One day Ekalavya and his friends trapped a little ant and were watching it try to escape. The ant tried and tried till it found a little opening at the edge of the trap and escaped. 

Other children moved to trap it again but Ekalavya stopped them shouting, "The brave ant has broken the bounds. Limits are meant to be broken. I am free, free". 

One day, Ekalavya saw beautiful chariots come into the forest near his village. He saw boys of his age get out of the chariot one by one. What lovely clothes they wore! 

Last, an old man with snowy white hair and spotless white clothes came out looking stern and calm. The boys seemed a little scared of the old man but with one dusky handsome boy, the old man's behaviour was different, he smiled and patted this boy on the head. 

Teaching a Lesson! By Brishti Bandyopadhyay

"It's my turn tomorrow," mumbled Raghu to himself as he climbed the stairs of his school building, very slowly as if he were sleep-walking. He had been dreading this day ever since Pal declared his grand class prodigy scheme, two months ago. 

Pal was the much feared History teacher."It has been said that genius is 99 per cent perspiration and one per cent inspiration," he had said in his usual pompous manner. "I suggest we test this theory. Beginning next week, we shall have one student present a chapter of this book (he dangled the History book like the Sword of Damocles), as if he were the teacher." 

The teacher had announced that each student would be given a week to prepare for class. He even invited the boys to "chew my brains during this process if he so wants". Saying this, Pal had grinned, while the class gave an involuntary shudder - it would take a very brave man to seek out Pal's company outside the classroom. 

"Twenty-four chapters for twenty-four of you - that's neat arithmetic. And, at the end of the term, we will have a poll to see who is adjudged the best teacher of all. That boy shall be the Class Prodigy. I shall personally recommend the golden star for him," Pal droned in his usual style. 

And so it started. Week after week, Raghu saw the best and the brightest of his classmates being reduced to quivering jellies during their teaching sessions, under Pal's merciless sarcasm. The weeklong preparation might never have been, for each student found that he could never do it right. 

And now it was Raghu's turn. Worse, he had done virtuallynothing to prepare the chapter on the French Revolution that had come his way. His mind was a complete blank. 

He had tried, of course. For a week now it had become a routine for him to sit with his History textbook open at the page where the chapter on the French Revolution began. And somehow, he did nothing but stare at the sketch of Marie Antoniette, Queen of France in the late 18th century when the Revolution broke out. Marie Antoniette, with her hair cut in a pageboy style, just before she was executed. 

Raghu felt very close to her for some reason. Actually, the reason had a face - that of Pal's. 

And then there was only one day left for his ordeal. Deep down Raghu knew that even if he stayed up the whole night and studied, he would still be a sitting duck for Pal's snide comments the following day. 

Sometimes, though, he felt that Pal couldn't help himself, as if something, some inner force egged him on to be nasty. 

The day passed by in a haze. Raghu's classmates observed his unusually quiet self. Unlike other days, no one tried to snap him out of it or snigger. 

A Town Called Boring By Chitra Padmanabhan

Once upon a time in India,there was a town called Boring. It was by the side of Dull Lake. The people of Boring never smiled; they did not know how to -- Whether it was grownups or children.

All the children ever did was study. They studied in school all day. On returning home they got busy with homework and with revision for class tests in school. No one played any games -- there were no playgrounds in the town.

It was a strange town. The children were never happy to meet each other. Sometimes they would try to avoid each other's eyes. Or they would try to pretend that they had not studied much for tests. That was not all. They also lied to each other about which chapters were important for the coming test. All that the children wanted was marks, marks and more marks.

What a town Boring was! No one knew how to smile let alone giggle or laugh or crack a joke. Life was really dull and boring.

One day the town had a visitor. Ekta's grandmother had come visiting. It was her first time in Boring. She had silvery hair and a smile that stretched from ear to ear. Even her eyes smiled. The people of Boring found her very odd.

At the end of her first day in Boring Grandma understood that something was terribly wrong with the townspeople -- even her own family. When she smiled and nodded, people moved away with alarm. When Grandma told Ekta with a smile that she had made mouthwatering gajar ka halwa for her granddaughter, what did Ekta do? She said: "The history teacher cut three marks in the test. God knows how many marks she has cut over the years. By now she must have a treasure chest full of marks. I wonder what she will do with all those marks? Maybe I should steal her trunk some day. I will be a very rich girl indeed". She did not touch the gajar ka halwa.

Grandma was amazed. How could anyone talk about marks all the time? But she heard this nonsense day after day not only from Ekta but from every other boy and girl -- and as if that was not bad enough,from the parents as well!

If anything the parents were worse.They were always pushing their children to get more marks so that they could get ahead of others. Just as people go to temples to pray, the parents of Boring went to a shop called The Marks Bazaar. The shop sold a special type of pen with which one could write secret messages. The parents would buy these pens for their children who would then scribble answers on their thighs, ankles and elbows during exams. It was called preparation for exams.

The parents did not know that the shopkeeper also secretly sold infra-red detectors that could catch any secret message on any surface. The children ended up getting caught by teachers and so the parents were forced to return to The Marks Bazaar to buy better 'secret messengers', as they were called.

Grandma was shocked to see all this. "I must do something so that the people of Boring learn to be happy," she thought to herself. It was time to use her secret weapon!

This secret weapon had changed Grandma's life in childhood. As a young girl she always complained about everything and anything. She thought her parents would give her more things to try and make her happy. Then one day Grandma's cousin sister Haasya decided to change things. She came up from behind and tickled Grandma hard. Without her knowing it Grandma squealed and giggled. "Ah, so you can giggle like other children," said her cousin. When Grandma laughed she felt very happy. Grandma's parents named Haasya the 'Goddess of Laughter".

Haasya was such an expert at tickling that people could not but laugh. She knew more jokes than there were stars in the sky. Good jokes, funny jokes, that made people laugh with each other. Once they laughed together they felt warm towards each other. They made friends for life.