Every winter, Aarav’s Chachu arrived with two heavy bags and one small secret, and every winter the small flat on the first floor seemed to grow a whole extra room just to fit him in. He came the week the mornings turned misty. Aarav would be at the window with his wonder notebook — the…
On Ganesh Chaturthi morning, the whole colony smelled of flowers and something sweet frying somewhere, and the Gang had a problem. A big one. A mountain of one, actually. “It’s blocked,” said Tara, hands on hips. “Completely, totally blocked.” The lane that led to old Bansi Uncle’s house — where the Gang delivered a plate…
Meet Riya. Same school. Same gate. Same smell of the canteen samosas. But this morning, everything that mattered had quietly rearranged itself. Over the holidays, the school had split the classes and made new sections. And when the new lists went up on the board, Riya’s best friends — the three girls she’d sat with,…
Tara had a question, of course. She always did. She was holding the Genie’s old brass puzzle — seven flat pieces that had spilled from a wooden box: two big triangles, one medium, two small, a square, and a slanty one shaped like a leaning table. “These seven pieces,” she said, turning them over. “They…
For two whole weeks, the Gang had planned it. Not just planned it — planned it. Aarav had drawn a map of Peepal Park with little arrows: cricket here, kite-flying there, lunch under the big banyan at exactly one o’clock. Khushi had made a list of games and lost the list and made it again….
Here’s a wondering to start with: who has taught you something this year? Say “teacher” and most of us picture one person at the front of a class. But hold on — did someone teach you to ride, to cook a little, to be braver, to try a new way when the old way was…
जन्माष्टमी की एक गुनगुनी शाम थी, और गैंग नीम के पेड़ के नीचे एक ही ज़िद लेकर जमा थी। “कहानी सुनाओ,” खुशी उछलते हुए बोली। “जन्माष्टमी वाली। प्लीज़ प्लीज़ प्लीज़।” जीनी ने अपना जूता तब तक चमकाया जब तक वह चूँ-चूँ न करने लगा। “ठीक है। बहुत पुराने ज़माने का एक दिन — जिस दिन…
It was a warm Janmashtami evening, and the Gang had gathered under the neem tree with one demand. “A story,” said Khushi, bouncing. “A Janmashtami one. Please please please.” The Genie polished a sneaker until it squeaked. “Very well. A day from long ago — the day young Krishna’s every plan fell apart, and he…
For two whole weeks, the Gang has been living the Way of Life we call Integrity & Honesty — the extra change returned, the ledger checked, the borrowed ribbon set down. Now let’s give those feelings their names. Every answer below is a quality-word the fortnight has been teaching, hidden in a friendly grid. The…
The art competition had one rule, painted in big letters on the board: Draw something you love. Draw it yourself. Sana loved horses. She could see them perfectly in her head — manes like waterfalls, legs mid-gallop — but every time she tried to draw one, the legs came out like table legs and the…