Latest Our Students Work

Latest News From Our Blog

Poetry Collection #20 I Student Sashrika Prasad I Online Creative Writing Program

By admin in Poetry, Poetry Collection for Kids & By Kids on October 24, 2024

An original collection of ODE, written by our student Sashrika Prasad.

Sashrika is 13 years old, a young writer from Gurugram. We are proud to have her as a student of the Online Creative Writing Program using Applied Storytelling & Applied Theatre tools under the mentorship of Trainer Khusshbo Chokhaani. We congratulate Sashrika for this exemplary true self-expression.

Poetry Collection for ODE Style

1. Ode to My Family

In our home, love always stays,
Filling our hearts with warm,
bright rays.
With every laugh and every tear,
We find comfort when we’re near.

Each of us shines like a star,
Together, we’ve come so far.
Hand in hand,
we face each day,
In our bond, we find our way.

From shared secrets to dreams we see,
Your love means everything to me.
Family, my anchor, my song,
With you, I know I belong.

2. Stain

Oh, lovely coffee stain on my shirt,
Your art is simply the best.
A messy splash of brown dirt,
On my clean clothes, you’re a guest.

So glad to have you on show,
Right before the big day.
A fashion choice, you know,
A mark for all to say.

You spread without a care,
On fabric white and new.
A messy sight, so rare,
A stain that’s just for you.

So here’s to you,
my morning mess,
For making my day bright.
An ode to stains, I must confess,
A real fashion fright.

3. Toaster

Oh, toaster, master of my bread,
You never toast the way I said.
One side’s burnt, the other’s raw,
A breakfast game of toast roulette, I saw.

With crumbs that dance upon the floor,
Your smoky scent, I can’t ignore.
An ode to you, my kitchen fiend,
For morning fun, on you, I lean.

4. Classroom

Oh, classmates dear, a motley crew,
In every lecture, never a dull view.
With your antics wild and voices loud,
Making each lesson a boisterous crowd.

Assignments missed,
Excuses aplenty, Yet in group work,
you’re there in twenty.
Your presence, a blend of chaos and glee,
Bringing life to the classroom, for all to see.

5. Leftovers

Leftovers, leftovers, oh what a delight,
In the fridge, you await, hidden from sight.
A second chance meal, a culinary encore,
With each bite, we savor you more.

From last night’s dinner, you bravely persist,
Leftovers, oh leftovers, you’re not to be missed!

Leave your valuable comments for encouraging our students to innovate, explore and express more.

Connect with us: +91 9166488881/notjusttales09@gmail.com to enroll your 6 to 15 years old child in our Public Speaking, Theatre, Drama, Storytelling & Creative Writing, online or offline program in Jaipur.

 

15 Kgs Of Gold I Student Shanaya Chahal I Online Creative Writing Program

By admin in Creative Writing, Original Stories on October 24, 2024

An original story, written by our student Shanaya Chahal.

Shanaya is 11 years old, and a young speaking enthusiast from Gurugram. We are proud to have her as a student of the Online Public Speaking, Speech & Drama, Creative Writing Program through Applied Storytelling & Applied Theatre under the mentorship of Trainer Khusshbo Chokhaani. We congratulate Shanaya for this exemplary true self-expression.

15 Kgs Of Gold

The landscape was a horrid sight. There were hordes of vultures, soaring in the air fluttering their wings, searching for prey. Their paled, bare but shaggy skin blended in the midst of the clouds. The sound of galloping horse hooves resounded in the desert. The only other sound was the bleats of sheep.

The rider of the magnificent horse had his feet astride the horse. Next to him was a grand palanquin carried by sleepless bearers with kegs full of all their wages in gold.

Suddenly the rider stopped his steed. “ Ma.” he said, his voice trembling “ Can you hear that?” In the distance, there was quiet a yelling happening.  Ma looked out from her palanquin.

She had black hair which was graying and brown eyes. She was donned in a quaint pink and red sari and she was wearing a porpoise tooth necklace.

“Are those bandits?” Ma wondered, astounded. Then the realization hit her. “They’re after our gold, Dhruv! We’re being hunted!” She exclaimed. “Don’t worry ma. Don’t let these bandits frighten you. I will fight them till my very last breath!” Dhruv exclaimed.

The shape of the bandits came closer and closer until they were standing face to face with Dhruv and Ma’s palanquin. Terrified, the servants holding Ma’s palanquin ran away as fast as their feet would carry them, leaving an undaunted Ma and 15 kegs of gold.

Dhruv tightened his grip on the reins of his horse. The bandits, with their tattered clothing smeared and soiled with dirt and the sole of their shoes torn, encircled him and the palanquin, their eyes eyeing the tempting kgs of gold.

“Begone,” Ma said, “you wretched bandits are not worthy of our gold!” Dhruv drew his sword. The bandits began to close in, their leader a tall, scarred man with a crooked grin stepped forward. “Hand over the gold, boy,” he sneered, “and we’ll let you and your mother leave with your lives.”

Dhruv squared his shoulders. “You can try to take it, “he said with pride “but you’ll regret it.” The leader chuckled. “I didn’t want to hurt anyone but you leave me no choice.” The first bandit lunged, but Dhruv was quick, blocking the attack and striked the bandit down with a blow. Two more came at him but he blocked, dodged, and countered.

“Impressive but I’ve been scheming this plan for a long time. I won’t let a child snuff it out!” the leader said vainly. He signaled to the rest of his crew, and suddenly, five bandits rushed Dhruv at once. But before they could reach him, a piercing sound split the air.

It was Ma. She had pulled a horn from beneath her sari and blew it with all her might. The sound echoed across the desert, sounding constant, a few moments later, from the horizon, a dust cloud appeared growing larger and larger on the steep ground with each passing second.

The bandits hesitated, dumbfounded. Dhruv smiled, “You see, we were never alone.” A large group of about 20 soldiers, dressed in armor charged towards them.

The bandits, realizing they were outmatched, panicked. Some tried to flee, but the soldiers were too fast. They swept in, capturing the bandits one by one. The leader tried to make a run for the gold, but Dhruv was ready. Dhruv disarmed him and knocked him to the ground.

Ma stepped out of the palanquin, her expression proud. “Well done, my son,” she said pulling him into an embrace, “You fought bravely, just as your father once did. Dhruv smiled, “I couldn’t have done it without you, Ma”. As the soldiers began to escort them back to the safety of the capital, Dhruv glanced over at the captured bandits, who were weeping and now being tied and loaded into wagons. And with that, mother and son rode off into the sunset.

Leave your valuable comments for encouraging our students to innovate, explore and express more.

Connect with us: +91 9166488881/notjusttales09@gmail.com to enroll your 6 to 15 years old child in our Public Speaking, Theatre, Drama, Storytelling & Creative Writing, online or offline program in Jaipur.

 

About Us

At Not Just Tales we dive deeper into our Indian cultural and heritage tales like Folklore, Jatakas, Panchatantra, Mythology, Hitopadesa to find solutions to our modern day challenges.
“Stories that you tell yourself either builds you or breaks you. Choose the right story for you and others. What story would you like to be remembered as? ”

Khusshbo

Follow & Share