Stories For Thing

Adventures of FAT LOUIE. Episode 4: The Party & the Intruder

Fat Louie

Fat Louie (for those who just joined us, is a brown Bear and) is a class hero of 5th Grade in Jungle Tot’s school. Today he was at his best friend Ninja Duckie’s birthday party. The party was being held in a secluded Party Place away from all the homes of Jungle tots. Fat Louie had never been here. It was breath-taking! The whole place was done up to look like Lisbon; or so he was told, he didn’t know what Lisbon looked like! No wonder it was called “Portuguese Party Place”. Fat Louie had never seen a sea or waves. He had seen a river and even a waterfall, but not waves & a sea shore. They had created all this at the Party Place. Fat Louie wondered what Portuguese food would be like. He hoped they would have some fish here for him to eat!

He need not have worried because he saw some orangutans dragging a net from the shore and gleaming fish were jumping in the net. He felt as if he had been transported to some far off place. He wondered whether it was all for real.

He then saw Ninja Duckie. She looked, he thought a bit uncomfortable in her part dress, and then she came & hugged him. He suddenly remembered the gift he was clutching tightly and handed that to her. She squealed in delight after opening it and seeing her favourite chocolate truffles. Her mother appeared and stopped her from eating it all right there. Fat Louie then found himself in the middle of the party with his friends Sid the bunny & Druider the sloth and a lot of others.

Parrots were doing a great Rap song and there were bodies on the floor gyrating away; Sid was doing his favourite bunny hop and Fat Louie did his own version of Gangnam style stopping now and then to nibble on the appetizers of Bombil stuffed with nuts and taking sips of mountain dew. Druider was the only one not dancing; he was sniffing around for tacos stuffed with termites.

Suddenly they heard a commotion near the front door and a scream!

The parrots stopped singing and there was an uneasy silence. They heard the Orang-utan at the door say “You can’t come in here” and the gruff reply “watch me”!

They saw the long snout of Wily the Wolf dressed in a Hoodie. The Wolf had gate crashed Ninja Duckie’s party. The 5th graders looked around aghast. Their parents had all gone leaving them to have a good time. Wily wolf entered the party room with an evil grating laugh. Ninja Duckie was paralysed with fear. All around the room it was as if they were playing the game ‘statue’. No one moved.

No one except Fat Louie. Fat Louie drew himself up to his full height and gave a big roar. The biggest he had ever done. Fat Louie then charged at Wily Wolf unmindful of the consequences. There was an audible gasp from around the room. To everyone’s surprise and delight Wily turned tail and ran out! Everyone in the room clapped! The orangutans shut and bolted the front door and the party started again.

Fat Louie was the hero again. Fat Louie had saved Ninja Duckie’s party! The jungle tots would have carried their hero on their shoulders except he was too heavy! There were lots of high fives and fist punches. Birds sang & the parrots rapped even more. Even Druider the sloth was enjoying himself.

What a memorable party this was, it would be remembered for many years! When the Moms came to collect the tots they were in for a great story!

Thing’s good friend, Rian

No Comments »

Billy the Meaniebutt Shark gets a surprise

    meaniebutt

This is the third and final part of the story about the Little Princess vs. Billy the Meaniebutt Shark. Now then, how much of parts 1 and 2 do you remember? To be honest, Frisbee the cat had to remind me of everything that happened before because I didn’t pay proper attention.

If you remember, Lola the Bulldog told Frisbee a story about a little girl who liked to hunt sharks. One day, the little princess heard about a really mean and nasty shark named Billy, and so she set out on the high seas with her loyal crew of Jolly Pirates to find him.

Billy lived in a house inside of a volcano, which sat in the center of a scary, dangerous place called Shark Island. Lucky for Billy, the house was lava-proof, just in case the volcano ever got sick and threw up.

Billy loved the water, but because he was hired to keep Shark Island clean, he had to spend most of his time on land. Some sharks agreed that this was what probably made Billy extra especially grumpy.

One day, Billy was at home watching television and eating a human and cheese sandwich. “Nom Nom Nom,” he said. Humans with cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, mayo and mustard, on whole wheat bread, was his favorite.

“So what if I’m getting a pot belly,” he grumbled, thinking about some of the jokes other sharks had made about him when they thought he couldn’t hear them. “Some things just taste better than skinny feels.”

He burped. It was a very loud burp.

Billy was watching a musical. People were dancing and singing, and he liked to think about which of them he would put into his favorite sandwich first.

Suddenly, the security alarm went off. There was an intruder on Shark Island! Billy checked the security camera and saw a little girl with long dark hair and a pretty blue dress crying and stumbling along. She looked lost.

“Well, well,” Billy said. “Looks like I’ll be having an after dinner mint.”

Eagerly, Billy rushed out to meet the snack sized human, giggling to himself because he had decided to play a little game.

The little girl walked through the jungle of Shark Island, sobbing. “Oh woe is me!” she cried. “Mama was so right about me! I am my own kryptonite!” And if you listened closely, you would have heard her add, just under her breath: “I can’t believe I just said Mum was right! I’d better get an award for this performance.”

The little girl tripped over nothing in particular, collapsed into her arms, and shuddered with sobs.

By the time Billy the Shark arrived, he was almost starting to feel sorry for the poor lost girl. Almost.

“There there, little lady, why are you crying so?” he turned on his most concerned uncle voice.

The little girl looked up at him. Her eyes got big and round like saucers. Billy took this to mean that the girl was quite frightened indeed.

“Don’t be afraid. I won’t eat you,” he grinned. All of his teeth were showing, which wasn’t very reassuring.

Nevertheless, the little girl said: “Oh Mr. Shark, Mr. Shark! I’m lost and hungry and sad! Can you help me, please?”

“By all means,” Billy agreed. “I’ll take you to get something nice to eat, ok?”

“Ok,” said the little girl. Um, but I can’t eat food and swim underwater at the same time.”

Actually, a little mermaid had taught the little girl how, but the shark didn’t need to know about that.

“I have a house here on the island, inside of a volcano. Don’t worry, it’s lava-proof.”

So, Billy lead the girl back to his volcano home, asking her all sorts of questions about her parents, where she had come from, and how she had gotten lost.

“My parents and I were on vacation,” the girl lamented. “We were so happy, until the storm came and smashed up our boat.”

“Terrible,” Billy said.

“My dad was only 37—it’s such a shame. At least my mum was 89, and lived a full life, you know?”

“Wow. 37 and 89,” Billy remarked. “That’s not just May-December, that’s Mayan Calender-December.”

“And yet somehow they made it work,” the little girl nodded.

“And what is your name little girl?”

“Um…I have amnesia.” The little girl said.

“Pretty name,” Billy remarked.

Soon, back at Billy’s house, the little lost girl seemed much less worried about her plight. In fact, she walked around the shark’s place with intense curiosity.

“Now, let’s find you something to eat!” Billy said, almost licking his chomps. “Fatten you up a bit,” he muttered. He went to his refrigerator and looked in. “Tell me little girl, what would you like to eat, hm?”

“Can I have a shark burger, please?” the little dark haired girl asked sweetly.

Billy the Meaniebutt Shark turned to her. “That’s not funny, little girl,” he said, narrowing his eyes.

“I wasn’t making a funny,” the little girl assured him, still smiling.

“Who are you?” Billy the Shark asked. There was something odd about this little lost girl, and he was suddenly getting a very bad feeling about all of this.

“Well, it’s not amnesia,” said the little girl. “Not even close. It doesn’t even rhyme with amnesia. Do you want to know what it rhymes with? I’ll tell you: it rhymes with sting. Not sting like a bee sting. Sting like: surprise! It’s a trap!”

Billy finally realized who this strange little girl was who had suddenly turned up frightened and alone on Shark Island, of all islands. He’d never seen her before, but he’d definitely heard of her.

The little girl whose name rhymed with shark hunting.

The little princess named Thing.

“No!” Billy the Meaniebutt Shark screamed. “Somebody! Haalp!”

“Say hello to my Big Bad Mum!” the little princess shouted.

“Oh no!” Billy cried. “Your mom’s here too! That’s not fair! How bad is she?”

“She’s awful!” the little princess admitted, “but I’m talking about my magical sword, see?”

She held it out for him to see. It was bright and shiny, and it looked very sharp.

Billy shuddered. “Please don’t turn me into Meanibutt shark cutlets!”

“Quiet down!” the little princess commanded. “If you surrender peacefully, I won’t have to.”

Billy stifled his sobs and tried to look as helpless and pathetic as possible.

“You should be ashamed of yourself, stinky shark!” the little princess said. “You’re such a bully, and just like all bullies, you’re really just a big ole coward at heart.”

“I’m sorry!” Billy whimpered. “What do you want me to do to make up for all of my bad ways? I’ll do anything.”

“Billy, Billy, Billy! You’ve been a bad boy! I’m going to take you to Shark Zoo.”

“Not Shark Zoo!” Shark Zoo was famous for being a place where sharks had to go in order to learn how to behave, and even do school work.

If they learned good manners, and promised to be good every day, the sharks would finally be set free again. Billy had met a few sharks who had graduated from Shark Zoo, and they were so boring.

“It’s not a zoo!” Billy complained. “It’s a prison! You turn perfectly natural sharks into wimpy little guppies. I betchu if I was a dolphin, you wouldn’t send me to such a nasty place–and dolphins are much worse than sharks!”

“What are you, an activist?” the little princess snapped. “Don’t talk to me about dolphins! I’m a shark hunter, okay? Now, hold still while I tie you up!”

And so, the little princess and her Jolly Pirates took Billy the Meaniebutt Shark to Shark Zoo. At first, Billy was very sad and bored there, but the little princess wrote him letters—and even sent some tasty snacks (not humans)—which brightened Billy’s spirits immensely. Before long, Billy was the best behaved, most studios shark in all of Shark Zoo; even standing up to bullies who liked to cause trouble there.

Billy had become so good and nice that by the time he we was free to live in regular waters again, he had gotten a new nickname: Billy the Goody-Goody Shark Who Always Likes to Brag That He’s Princess Thing’s Pal.

By Saladinho

No Comments »

ChumChum and Nana

shutterstock_69002632ChumChum and Nana sat on the swing, pushing it back and forth and all the while ChumChum talked about her school, and her friends, Adi, Tara and Mini. Nana’s pet dog Bruno slept with his head in ChumChum’s lap. She tickled him behind his ears, just to see them twitch in his sleep.

“You know Nana, the aeroplanebird is not a bird and it is not small either. When will I get to eat mangoes? Are those mangoes up there on the trees in your garden? Which bird is that? Your garden is so nice Nana. Can I water your plants tomorrow? I want to eat mangoes, Nana.” She chimed in one breath.

Nana laughed her tinkling laugh, “Do you want to walk with me and see the mango trees?”

Bruno sat straight and looked up at Nana. He was as happy as ChumChum to go to the garden. He grabbed his squeaky toy and ran after them on his stubby legs.

There was a hammock tied to two of the mango trees. Nana lay ChumChum on it and then lay down next to her. The sunlight streamed through the leaves and fell on to their faces. ChumChum raised her hand and moved it around to feel the warm rays play on her arm. She giggled “Nana, these sun rays are playing hide and seek with my arm”.

Nana raised her arm and pointed to the top of the tree “See there ChumChum, you see that green little thing? That is a baby mango.”

“But Nana, mangoes are yellow. My teacher showed us a picture.”

“Yes ChumChum, mangoes are yellow. But before they become yellow, they are green. And you know, the green ones are sour and not sweet like the yellow mangoes.”

“Sour like curd?”

“Umm, not like curd. Mango sour is a different sour. Like when you feel naughty and hide behind a chair and jump out in front of Mama and giggle. That giggle is sour. It tickles you.”

“I want to eat the sour mango, Nana, and laugh a naughty laugh.”

Now Nana had been hiding a mango in her satchel for just a time like this. She cut a small piece for ChumChum and herself. “Now we both will eat this after I count to three. Okay? One…two…three!”

ChumChum took a quick bite and the naughty mango tickled her teeth. She shut her eyes tight and squeaked. “NANA! The mango is so sour!”

Nana laughed, and ate her piece of mango and squeaked just like ChumChum.

“I want more Nana!”

Bruno looked up at them, wondered what the fuss was about and ran off to explore the garden. His favourite thing in the world to do.

By Ninja Duckie

No Comments »

Frisbee’s Nine Lives

tuxedo

My name is Mraomeowkookow, but my human calls me Frisbee. Now everyone calls me Frisbee. Even Lola, who ought to know better. I’m a black cat with bits of white patiently and delicately painted on my paws, and about my face and throat; right around where my Vishudda resides. Everybody agrees that I’m quite handsome. Actually, they say I’m “beautiful”, or “cute”, even though I’m a boy. Oh well, I don’t complain. My human feeds me often enough (sometimes she ignores me when I demand special treats—I let her get away with it because I’m from a noble lineage, and it would not due to make unseemly outbursts).

I have a friend—I guess she’s a friend—named Lola. Did I tell you about Lola? Get this: She’s a dog. A Bulldog, in fact. And they call her beautiful too! I shouldn’t be mean. I like Lola (don’t tell her I said that). I can overlook the fact that her face looks like it’s been flattened in by one of those frying pans my human uses to cook fish for me. Okay, okay, I’ll stop…Lola is a good egg. She’s even shaped like one—if an egg had four legs.

I suppose I should tell you a story. It isn’t going to be a good story, but don’t blame me. For me, to my mind, the best stories are short. Like this: “Once there was a little princess in a faraway land called India. Her name rhymed with string, wing, and ring-a-ding-ding. She liked to wrestle sharks, bookshelves, and wits with her Mum.” The end. Now, if I were the one who had told such an exciting, heart-wrenching story, I’d take a nap right after.

Mm! Fish! I’m hungry. And sleepy. I think I’ll take a nap after all. Don’t go away! I’ll be right back! SNOOOOORRRREEEEE!!! PUUURRRRR!!! Yawn! Stretch! Eat fish!!

I’m back. I had such a great nap. And when I awoke, my human gave me a fish burger. With ice cream and cake…and wine! Okay: I lied about the wine.  My human drinks wine, though. A lot. I remember one day not long ago, my human was drinking wine and eating chocolate, and telling me I was her only friend, when some man human came to visit, with a whole armful of flowers.

My human was so angry at the man. You should have seen her. I guess she doesn’t like flowers. She started yelling and screaming. The man kept stammering “But-but-but—honey I’m sorry! Please don’t be mad!” Not having it, my human chased him away with a frying pan. My fish frying pan. Humans make me shake my head.

With all the yelling, I decided to slip outside my apartment—which is on the second floor of a large complex of neat little boxes stacked side by side— and go downstairs to walk over to Lola’s house, just across the street. I stopped at the sidewalk and looked both ways before crossing. I had to make sure that there were no cars coming, because I’m such a sensible lad.

“Hey Frisbee!” said Whaump-whaump the squirrel. He was in the middle of the street, and he waved at me to come over.

“Get out of the street, Whaump,” I told him.

“Humans don’t own the street!” Whaump said. He liked to think of himself as a rebel.

“That won’t stop them from running you over if you get in their way,” I said. Conversations with Whaump-whaump had a tendency to turn political.

“Come here a second.” The squirrel said. He was holding something in his tiny paws. I was curious, but an ancient proverb came to mind, and I decided to wave him off.

“Pff!” I said. I was busy. I had better things to do.

“C’mon, dude!” Whaump-whaump said “You can go see your girlfriend later!” He giggled at me. He liked to tease me about Lola.

“Sounds like someone’s jealous,” I sniffed. It was a new tactic I’d learned from my human. Pretend that something doesn’t bother you, even when it does. It was called Massive Suggestion, I think.

“You always act like you’re better than everybody,” the squirrel sneered.

“I do not act like I’m better than everybody,” I stiffened. “I am better than everybody.” Perhaps that was a bit uncalled for, being so brutally honest, but the squirrel was getting my back up.

“Scaredy cat! Scaredy cat!” Whaump-whaump taunted.

I started to cross the street, ignoring the idiot squirrel.

“Hey, Frisbee!” He shouted at me, “What’s the use of having nine lives if cats are so afraid to do anything with them?”

I stopped.

I think now would be a good time to tell you the moral of my story. I know you’re supposed to wait until your story’s actually finished to tell it, but it occurs to me how often in life we already know a lesson before we foolishly put ourselves through all the trouble of having to learn it.

Anyway, the moral of my story is this: don’t let silly squirrels shame you into standing in the middle of the street with them.

Okay, now back to the story: I walked over to Whaump-whaump. “What are you holding” I asked, nonchalantly. Nonchalantly. That’s another word for pretending not to care about something.

“It’s an almond,” Whaump said. “Want to play ‘Hurry Up and Catch It’?”

“What’s ‘Hurry Up and Catch It’?” I asked, forgetting to be annoyed that the only thing the squirrel was holding was his lunch.

“It’s a game. You take an almond—or an acorn if you have one—and you put it in the middle of the street, and then you run to the sidewalk and wait until you hear a human’s metal monster coming. Then you spring into the street, grab the almond-or acorn-and run back to the sidewalk before the metal monster catches you!”

I  stared at Whaump-whaump while he beamed at me like a lunatic.

“Do squirrels have something like catnip, only it’s for squirrels,” I asked. “Because it looks like you’re taking it.”

“C’mon! It’ll be fun!”

“You can stay in the middle of the street if you want, but my Spider-Sense is tingling, and I’m going to get out of —HOLY TUNA FISH!!!”

Suddenly, out of the parking lot of my apartment complex, my human’s man came speeding out in his huge red metal monster, headed right for us.

“AAAAHHHH! WE DIDN’T START THE GAME YET!” Whaump-whaump screamed.

I couldn’t move. Neither of us could move. We were frozen in terror.

Just before it was too late, the metal monster screeched to a stop. It was standing nearly on top of us. It smelled of burning rubber, fish pans, and sad roses. It made a large blaring roar.

This time I moved. I ran over to Lola’s side of the street, Whaump-whaump right on my tail, and sighed in relief once I made it away from the huge ugly thing safely.

It took us a few minutes to catch our breaths.

“Hi guys,” a voice chirped happily at us, making us jump.

It was only Lola.

“Hey Lola! We were playing a game!”

I looked at Whaump-whaump. I couldn’t tell if he was lying to preserve our dignity, or if he really thought our terrible ordeal had all just been some exciting lark.

“I want to play!” Lola said excitedly.

“I propose a new game,” I said calmly.

Lola and Whaump-whaump were both intrigued.

“Let’s play “What Do Squirrels Taste Like?”

“What *do* squirrels taste like?” Lola said.

“How do you play that game?” Whaump-whaump asked, suddenly showing signs of self preservation.

I gave him a pointed look. “Oh. I think you know how you play that game. You eat a squirrel.” I narrowed my eyes and slowly advanced on him. “What part would you like to try first, Lola?”

“THAT’S NOT FUNNY FRISBEE!” Whaump-whaump squealed, running away and up into a tree and out of sight.

“Were you really going to eat him?” Lola asked.

I shrugged. Cats know best when to keep their own counsel.

“What happened out here anyway?” Lola asked. “I saw you two running from the street. It didn’t look like you were having fun.”

“It was nothing,” I said.

Cats may have nine lives, but we’re not the best storytellers.

By Saladinho

No Comments »

ChumChum tells a story

It was ChumChum’s bedtime. She was all tucked up in bed watching Dada as he dug around for a story book.

“So tell me ChumChum, which story do you want to hear tonight?”

“I want an unbook story Dada.”

“What’s an un book story?”

“Silly Dada”,  said ChumChum, “it’s a story that’s not from a book.”

Dada scratched his head. He wasn’t good at make-believe. He was a grown up after all. But he was brave, Dada was, and he bravely asked Chumchum what story she wanted to hear.

ChumChum giggled, “Don’t be scared Dada. It’s ok. I’ll tell you a story.” And she began:

Onceuponatime there lived a shark. He was blue and big and his name was Drop. But though he was big, he was very, very young. He only went to nuh-suh-reey school like me. He was not allowed to play alone in the street. Drop loved to sit on the swing and flap his fins. He ate chocolates and cookies and played hide and seek with his Dada and tickle games with his Mama.”

One day Mama Shark told Drop, “It’s time you started Big Fishie school. You must learn to swim the Deep Blue Sea. And you must learn the names of all your dinner.” Drop was scared. He had never gone out alone anywhere. He had only been to Auntie Hammer’s house with Mama to meet his cousins. But they were all so big and brave. And they didn’t play with him because he was small. Drop always sat with Mama and Auntie Hammer as they knit mufflers and drank green tea.

“Mama”, he said, “I’m so little. What if nobody plays with me? They’ll laugh because I can’t swim so well. Please don’t make me go.”

Mama laughed, “I once was as small as you are now, Drop. School was scary for me too. There were other sharks my age and we were all scared. But it was also so much fun. I collected treasures – coloured shells and coral and sea anemones and rainbow fish. I played on swings and skipped rope and played catch. I made sand paintings and we sang songs of the sea, and sometimes when we were good, Ms. Yrtle Turtle, our teacher took us to scare humans. Oh, you’ll see IT IS SO MUC..

ChumChum heard a soft snore. Dada was fast asleep. ChumChum tucked him in properly and ran to Mama, “Hi-Five Mama. My story made Dada fall fast asleep.”

By Ninja Duckie

No Comments »

The Singing Fox

Once upon a time, there was a fox.

F.O.X

Yes, that’s how he spelt it.

Fox was special. He was brown and furry. And clever.

Now, you’ll say that all foxes are brown, furry and clever. But wait, this fox was truly special. Because this fox loved to sing. And he would often try to sing for his friends, the other foxes.

But the other foxes would make fun of him. “Stop it. You’re a fox, you’re not supposed to sing” they’d mock him.

Fox would feel bad and slink away. Nobody wanted to hear him sing.

But later, when no one was around, he would step outside his foxhole and sing to the sky. He would sing of the moon and the stars. He would smell the flowers in the field and listen to the gurgling of the stream… and sing his favourite songs.

He was happiest when he was alone and singing.

One day, Fox and his skulk (yes, that’s what they call their group) went hunting for food. At the edge of the woods, they saw a farmhouse with lots of animals. There were Horses, Cows, Sheep, Pigs, Dogs and his favourites – the Hens.

“I hope I find some nice eggs for dinner”, he thought as they sneaked in to the farm.

He was about to enter the coop when he heard something.

He turned and followed the sound until he found a girl sitting on a log of wood, strumming her guitar.

Fox could not resist. He loved the music. He began to sing along.

The girl stopped playing and turned to him.

“You don’t sound like a human, but you sing well for a fox” she smiled.

Fox went closer to her and sat at her feet.

“Let’s play some more songs” said the girl.

And so they played many songs that evening.  They sang of an old man and his farm, of a bird called the kookaburra and a princess called Jasmine.

Suddenly, there was a screech and a big car came through the gate.

“Thing! What are you doing? Is that a fox? Shoo!” shouted a voice.

It was the girl’s Mom.

Our quick brown fox jumped over the fence and ran towards the woods.

When he felt safe, he stopped. His heart was beating fast. His knees were shaking. But he was so happy!

He had never sung so many songs in front of anyone. And Thing had not made fun of him. She had been nice to him!

Fox felt good. As we walked back home he sang more songs loudly.

When he reached home, the other foxes asked him, “Where were you? We kept looking for you”.

“Oh, I had lost my way, but now I’m fine” he said and continued to sing. He was no longer afraid of what they would say.

Thanks to Thing, Fox sang happily ever after.

By Faux Fleur

No Comments »

The Spider and The Thing

20120819-153920.jpg

Once upon a time
In a corner far far away
Lived an angry young spider
Aptly called Vijay

Eight long legs Vijay had
Spindly, hairy, strong
And everywhere Vijay went
He broke into a song

But he only sang when he was happy
And he wasn’t happy today
For he was an angry young spider
A spider called Vijay

“Where’s this Thing?”, He roared suddenly
At the bugs and at the flies
He stomped his feet, he shook his web
He glared with all his eyes

“What thing, dear sir are you looking for?”
“Nothing is missing here today”
“Here’s your silk and there’s your corner”
and there’s Miss Muffet’s Curd and Whey.

“BUT WHERE IS THIS THING?” He bellowed
“THIS GIRL WHO DOESN’T LOVE A SPIDER”
“GO FORTH AND SEARCH ALL CORNERS” He ordered
“RETURN NOT UNTIL YOU FIND HER”

So all the bugs and all the flies
And insects big and small
Poked every nook and corner
And every window, every wall.

And then they found The Thing, there she was
Dancing with her mum
They waited for her with bated breath
And begged her to come

To come with them to the angry young spider
The spider called Vijay
To come and explain why she doesn’t like them
To come and save the day

You see, the Thing was a nice little lady
She wanted to help the bugs
So she told her mama, she’ll be back soon
And sealed the promise with some hugs

They left for Vijay’s corner
The Thing, the bugs and their breeds
They jumped and hopped and sang and danced
and raced with the centipedes

Vijay, they found, in his corner
Angry Vijay, young and bold
Thing stopped singing
and hopping and dancing
and racing
and stared at Vijay, her manners cold.

“What do you want?”, She asked
“Why trouble these bugs and flies?”
Angry Vijay grew angrier
and rolled up half his eyes.

“I read something about you,
On how you love centipedes and bugs,
but why, o why, do you dislike spiders?
DO WE NOT DESERVE YOUR LOVE, YOUR HUGS?”

“WE SPIN AND WEAVE BEAUTIFUL WEBS
SILVERY AND SUBLIME
WE SING (I DO) WE DANCE WE ARE MERRY
AND WE EVEN SAVE THE WORLD (Sometimes)”

The bugs and the flies and the centipedes looked stumped
As the Thing pondered for a while
And moments later Thing broke
Broke into a gigantic smile

She pulled Vijay into a bear hug
A bear hug for a spider
Angry Vijay was angry no more
Just young and hairy and brighter

They sang and danced and sang and danced,
“Chali chali phir chali”
Till it was time for the Thing to go
“Chali ishq ki hawa chali”

She kissed Vijay on his cheek (he had only two of those)
Said Goodbye to the bugs and spider
The jolly spider who wasn’t angry no more
and who lived hairly every after?

By Tantanoo

2 Comments »

She smiled

Other kids didn’t talk to him much. He didn’t talk to them either. What did a boy in the seventh standard have to talk about anyway? He loved that his parents gave him the freedom to be himself.  He was a boy who was alone, but never lonely. Besides, when the time came he could talk his way out of a tough situation with little difficulty.

He was quite excited about going to school this morning. Today was the first day his parents let him to cycle to school – all on his own. Though his school was less than ten minutes away, until that day, his father had always dropped him off in the car. As he cycled past his favourite shop, the one run by his downstairs neighbour, the traffic signal turned a bright shade of red. Now he’d always seen his father stop at the signal, even if it was late at night and their car was the only one on the road. So, he stopped too.

Less than a minute had passed, when a little girl in a grubby, patched up brown dress, her palm outstretched walked up to him. He smiled at her, not knowing what she wanted.  The signal turned green, everybody started moving, but the little girl wouldn’t stop looking at him. He couldn’t move either. He got off his cycle and started pushing it towards school. But before he had moved more than two steps, the signal turned red again. The little girl was back too, her palm outstretched, hesitant.

“What happened?”, he asked her. She didn’t say anything. She looked at him, saw his red school bag, touched it with her left hand, touched her own back with the right hand, smiled and walked away to the lady in the scooter behind him.

He saw the lady in the scooter smile at the little girl. The signal had turned green, he started cycling to school. When he got home that evening, he ran to his mother and told her everything he saw on his first day of cycling to school. The downstairs neighbour’s shop, the red signal, the little girl, the blue lorry on the way back and the same car as daddy’s near his school. When he told mother about what the little girl did, “Why don’t you ask her?” she said.  After dinner that night, he went to bed thinking about the little girl, why she touched his bag, why she smiled her secret smile that had no words, and he made up his mind to do exactly as his mother suggested.

She woke up that day at the same time she did everyday. She wore her usual brown dress, now patched in two more places and went to the building her mother went to work in every morning. She didn’t have much to do ever since she stopped going to school two years ago. Every morning, she woke up at the same time and went to where her mother worked. Over time she had made friends with other children there. Now, everyday she and her friends would go play until it was time to go home.

Today, as she stood outside the building, she took a quick peek inside. There was her tired, weary mother stitching. She worked so hard, her mother. Her friends weren’t there yet. What do I do, she wondered. She took another quick look at her mother and bravely decided to go for a walk on her own. She turned and started walking towards the busy main road. As she reached the signal, she saw a boy cycling towards her. He was smiling a lot. When the signal turned red, everybody, including the smiling boy on the cycle, stopped. She walked up to him.

“What happened?” he asked her. She looked at him, saw the red bag on his back and smiled. It was the same sort of bag her mother was busy stitching.

By LedLorryBruLorry

No Comments »

ChumChum wonders

ChumChum found herself sitting on a wooden bench. She didn’t remember ever seeing that bench before. She didn’t remember coming here either. But she found herself really liking the place. And it was a beautiful bench. Made of wood, it was brown. Fresh browny brown. She touched the seat. It was smooth and warm. And the handrest had a butterfly sitting on it.

ChumChum looked around. She saw more butterflies. So many! She didn’t know enough numbers to count them. They were white and yellow and blue and rainbow coloured and some with two colours, some with three. The grass was as green, as green it could be. And slowly swaying in the gentle breeze. The breeze went whoooshing so far away.

ChumChum looked around and wondered, “where am I?” She looked around expectantly. She folded her arms and moved her head first left, then right. Then right and left. It looked like a park. With big trees. Many birds chirping happily. Butterflies and bees humming over the flowers. She hopped off the bench to take a better look around. She walked to the big tree and said hello to the trunk. She looked up to see the branches and leaves waving to her in the wind. She waved back. She heard something quacking and looked around her. There were ducks in a pond behind the tree! “What a wonderful place this is!”, she said. Green and beautiful as far as she could see! She broke in a big grin. The biggest grin she could grin.

ChumChum’s mama came into her room to check on her. ChumChum had a bad tummy that day. As mama opened the door, she saw that big smile on sleeping ChumChum’s lovely face. Mama smiled to herself as she kissed ChumChum goodnight.

By Ninja Duckie

No Comments »