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    The Boy Who Flew and Other Tales of India for Children
    The Boy Who Flew and Other Tales of India for Children
    The Boy Who Flew and Other Tales of India for Children
    Ebook90 pages56 minutes

    The Boy Who Flew and Other Tales of India for Children

    By Shahzad Rizvi

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    About this ebook

    Five fairy tales of India for children. A boy who dreamed of flying gets his wish in a most astonishing way. A child lost in an earthquake turns up in a jungle Eden. When a boy befriends a crocodile, the two overcome their neighbors' dread with an act of heroism. An orphan boy weds a princess with the help of a snake goddess. A talking dog guides his starving master to wealth and fame. Illustrated with watercolors by Laurie McLaughlin Ward.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherShahzad Rizvi
    Release dateMar 27, 2011
    ISBN9781458179494
    The Boy Who Flew and Other Tales of India for Children
    Author

    Shahzad Rizvi

    Shahzad Rizvi was born and raised in a princely state in India. He now lives and works in the Washington area with his family. He enjoys travel, reading, and learning languages, but his greatest passion is storytelling.

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      Book preview

      The Boy Who Flew and Other Tales of India for Children - Shahzad Rizvi

      The Boy Who Flew

      Manoj was a 15-year-old boy who lived with his parents and two sisters in the city of Bhopal in central India. Since he was little, he only had one wish—to fly. His room was plastered with posters and photographs of all kinds of birds. For hours, he would sit outside and watch the birds soar in flight.

      One day, Mr. Kumar, his father, who was an important man in the government, took him down to the local flying club and got him a membership. Manoj went up a few times with his instructor in a small plane, but he didn’t enjoy it. He found the body of the plane too confining. It’s not the same as flying yourself, he said, and quit the club.

      One day, his sister, Sulekha, found Manoj standing on the edge of the cliff behind their house, overlooking the lake. He had some contraptions attached to both his arms. What are you doing, standing so close to the edge? she shouted, grabbing him to move back. It’s dangerous. You could be killed! And what are those things on your arms?

      They’re my wings. I’m going to fly, he said.

      You’ve gone mad, she said, and dragged him inside the house. She took him into her room and read him the myth of Icarus and Daedalus.

      But I didn’t use any wax to attach my wings. Besides, the water would have cushioned my fall.

      When Mr. Kumar heard about what had happened, he decided to confine Manoj to his room and post a servant as sentry outside. He will remain in his room, said Mr. Kumar, until he promises never to try such a dangerous thing again. But Manoj refused to give such a promise. Mrs. Kumar watched this stand-off between her husband and her favorite child with great concern.

      On the morning of Manoj’s sixteenth birthday, the maid, Radha, pushed open the door to give Manoj his breakfast. She was so terrified by the sight that she dropped the tray and ran out, screaming. In the bed, instead of Manoj, she saw a gigantic bird sleeping. Radha ran to the dining room, shrieking hysterically, A ghost…a ghost!

      Don’t be silly, Radha. I bet Manoj was trying his flight stunt again, said his younger sister, Sulekha. She started to laugh but her mouth was so full of puris that she laughed, choked and sprayed crumbs all at the same time. Mrs. Kumar, sitting next to her, poked her warningly in the ribs.

      Mr. Kumar, steeped in The Times of India, looked up from his paper and asked, What’s all the hullabaloo? All three women tried to answer at once. Of course, he couldn’t understand a word. Like his parents before him, Mr. Kumar believed that one should be tough with children, so he got up and headed towards Manoj’s room. In his Indian Administrative Service training school, he had been taught that seeing is believing. Seeing the great man heading towards the center of the excitement, a servant rushed to open the door so that his progress wouldn’t be hampered.

      It was somewhat dark in the room, but the door opening cast a shaft of sunlight directly onto the bed, and Manoj. Seeing his father, Manoj jumped off the bed and tried to greet his parent as all Indian children are taught to do—with the palms of his hands joined before his face.

      What Mr. Kumar saw was a huge bird before him, awkwardly flapping its wings over its breast. There were some recognizable features of his son, but a beak had distorted his face and his body was now covered with feathers. Manoj’s two sisters and his mother stood behind Mr. Kumar in the doorway, trying to see what the excitement was all about. The girls began to laugh. Mrs. Kumar began to cry. What have you done, my son?

      After Mr. Kumar recovered from the initial shock, he said, This joke is not funny. You have taken this desire of yours for flying entirely too far. I was hoping that you would become a pilot with Indian Airlines, or even join the Indian Air Force, but turning yourself into a bird is absolutely silly. So take all that stuff off your body…the wings, webbed feet, beak, and all…take a bath and rejoin the human race, said Mr. Kumar.

      Mrs. Kumar ducked under her husband’s arm and entered the room. I’ll help my son get rid of this junk. He must have glued it on. What mischief! she said. She reached and grabbed a handful

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