The Story telling Angel

        The Storytelling Angel

For the past few days, Meenu, a little girl, has been struggling to sleep at night. She now sleeps alone. Her mother firmly told her that at the age of seven, she must not sleep with them anymore. Meenu protests, claiming that she’s not yet seven, only six years old.

Earlier, Meenu would come to bed by 8 PM, and her father would tell her stories. While listening to the stories, Meenu’s imagination would soar, and she would drift into the world of the story. By the end of the story, sleep would take over her. She never knew the end of the story because she would fall asleep before it finished. This was a tradition since Meenu was born, but now, everything had changed.

Meenu longed for stories at night more than her parents’ embrace. Every night, the stories would be what carried her into sleep. Sometimes, Meenu would sneak into her parents’ room in the middle of the night and sleep between them. The next day, her mother would scold her and punish her for this.

One day, Meenu’s father received a call from her school. The principal asked him to come immediately. He was afraid and headed to the school. The principal reprimanded him, saying, "Meenu is not paying attention at school. She sleeps in the last row of the class. What's happening at home? Does she get proper sleep at night?"

Her father replied, "We have started making her sleep alone. We are not sure if she sleeps well."

The principal responded, "You are good parents. This is the first time you are trying to make her sleep alone. Are you even sure she is getting proper sleep?"

"Sorry, ma’am. This won’t happen again."

That evening, her parents discussed Meenu's situation. In the end, her father decided that he would sleep beside her that night.

"Father, tell me a story, and I’ll fall asleep quickly. Then, you can leave," Meenu said.

"What story? You are a little girl. Why should I tell stories? We have so many books at home. Read a new story every day. Sleep will come naturally," her father replied.

Meenu flipped through a book. Her father got up from the bed. "I have lots of work in the office. I am feeling tired. I am going now. You need to sleep on your own, alright?"

He turned off the light and left.

Soon, the night grew silent, but Meenu still couldn't sleep. Suddenly, she felt someone gently rubbing her back. She assumed it was her mother, thinking, "Why is my mother suddenly showing so much affection after so long?" She didn’t turn to look, thinking she would see her mother, but when she finally did, she saw a beautiful woman sitting beside her. She resembled an angel from the storybooks.

Meenu screamed in fear, but the angel quickly covered her mouth with her hands.

"Who are you? How did you get into my house? I will call my mother!" Meenu shouted.

"Don’t be afraid, Meenu. I am an angel. I have come to help you."

"Angels only appear in stories. Are you real?"

"Yes! Angels do exist in real life. I have powers that allow me to help children. My job is to bring peaceful sleep to children who are unable to sleep."

"How can you do that?"

"In our kind, we are known as storytellers. We use our powers to tell stories that make children fall asleep."

"From which planet do you come, angel?"

"We don’t have a separate world. Wherever there are children in this universe, we appear there."

"Did you create the art of storytelling?"

"I don’t know. This world itself is like a story. You, I, and everything that happens in our lives are not real; we are just characters in the story told by the creator. Our lives are nothing but events in that story. This is the belief in our kind."

"You tell wonderful stories, angel."

The angel smiled.

"What kinds of stories will you tell?"

"All the stories that circulate among humans are from us. We have been telling stories to humans since ancient times. The Mahabharata, the Puranas, and all the stories you know are from us."

"Do you know the stories of the Mahabharata? My father always tells science fiction or adventure stories. My mother tells princess stories. Whenever I ask for Mahabharata stories, they say they are only the stories my grandmother tells. But I don’t have a grandmother, so I don’t know any Mahabharata stories. Will you tell me one?"

"Of course! I will tell you the story of Abhimanyu. Listen."

The angel told the story, and once it finished, she kissed Meenu on her forehead and vanished. Meenu slept peacefully that night.

The following nights, the angel continued telling Meenu stories—tales of Karna, Vali, Aravan, and other mythological characters. Each night, after hearing the story, Meenu would fall into a deep, peaceful sleep.

One night, Meenu asked the fairy for help with something related to her school.

“I didn’t do well in my exams this year. I thought it would be hard to move on to the next grade. But the headmistress told me I might get one more chance. There’s a national-level story-writing competition for children. No one from our school has ever been selected. This year, whoever gets into the top three will automatically be promoted. The story shouldn’t be like the usual mythological tales—it has to be something original. You have to help me.”

“Meenu, I can’t help you. I have to tell you a truth. We fairies don’t just tell stories to make children fall asleep. Our primary purpose is to create more of our kind—more storytellers like us. All these nights I’ve been telling you stories—it was actually training. And that training is now complete. The story-writing competition at your school was arranged by us. It is the final test, the result of all your training. That’s why the story has to come entirely from your own imagination. Good luck, Meenu.”

“Fairy, will we meet again?”

“No. Tonight is the last night. If you win the competition, you’ll be able to sleep peacefully, without needing a story—even from me. But if you don’t, you may suffer sleepless nights for the rest of your life.”

The fairy disappeared. Meenu couldn’t sleep that night—her mind was filled with thoughts of the story she was about to write.

A week passed. Meenu’s father received a call from the school headmistress.

“Congratulations. Your daughter has come first in the national story-writing competition. I read the story myself. The title was The Storytelling Fairy. It was about a fairy who helps sleepless children fall asleep by telling stories. An absolutely brilliant piece of imagination. Everyone at school has started calling your daughter the ‘Storytelling Fairy’. Children like her—so extraordinarily gifted—are always a little different. We must protect them like fragile glass.”

That night, as usual, Meenu’s father came to help her fall asleep.

“Meenu, you must’ve had a hard time sleeping alone. I haven’t been sleeping well myself these past few months. Too many worries at the office. My thoughts just keep spinning at night. I miss those days when the three of us would lie down and fall asleep telling stories together. And now that you’ve started writing such wonderful stories—it’s all because of my training, right? Tonight, I’ll tell you a story. Okay?”

As he began, Meenu gently placed her hands over his mouth.

“Appa, tonight I will tell you a story. And you must fall asleep.”

Meenu began her story, and her father drifted off to sleep. Her mother, who came in searching for him, turned off the light and lay down beside them.

Sleep came to Meenu too. At the edge of the room, the fairy smiled at her, waved goodbye, and disappeared.

A soft, sweet sleep brushed across Meenu’s eyelids.