📘 Story 18 – Mukshi and the Shaky Step

🌤️ The Morning That Hesitated

The sun was up, but the sky was grey.
A little warm. A little unsure.
Like the weather wasn’t quite ready to begin.

Amma packed the bag.
“One banana. One water bottle. And no shaky legs,” she smiled.

Mukshi was tying his shoelace slowly.
Daksh sat on the windowsill, blinking once.

“That means yes?” Mukshi asked.
Daksh blinked again.
“That means yes… again,” Mukshi smiled.


🚲 The Forest Shortcut

Today, he took the narrow path.
The one behind the school wall.
It was shorter—but steeper.

He’d never tried it alone.

The ground dipped fast.
Loose stones. A tight curve.

Mukshi stopped at the top.
Daksh circled above, quiet.

He looked down. His legs felt… unsure.


🧗🏽 The Choice

He could go back.
Or… just one foot forward.
Slow. Careful. Stay steady.

He looked at Daksh.
“Not a big deal, right?”
Daksh tilted his head. Not blinking.

“I’m not scared,” Mukshi said.
Then paused.
“Well… maybe a little.”

He took one step.
Then one more.

The bike didn’t slip.
The ground didn’t fall.
His hands shook, just a bit.
But his eyes stayed ahead.


🍃 The Quiet End

At the bottom, the path opened wide.
Flat road again. Trees swaying like they’d seen it before.

Mukshi stopped. Breathed.

Daksh landed gently on the handlebar.

“I did it,” Mukshi whispered.
Daksh blinked. That meant yes.


🏡 Back at Home

Amma looked at his shoes.
“Little dusty,” she said. “You tried the slope?”

Mukshi nodded.
“Just wanted to see if I could.”

Amma handed him a glass of water.
“Not all courage is loud,” she said.
“Some of it just puts one foot forward.”


Courage isn’t always big.
Sometimes it’s small.
Sometimes it’s just you,
and the road,
and a tiny step you weren’t sure you could take.
But you took it anyway.

📖 Story 15 – Mukshi and the Honest Pocket

☀️ The Drop and the Thought

Amma was stitching something by the window.
A needle in her mouth.
She was mending an old cloth. Maybe a memory.

Mukshi tied his shoelaces slowly.

Daksh blinked from the shelf.
“That means yes?” Mukshi asked.
Daksh blinked again.
“That means yes… again,” Mukshi smiled.

Amma handed the bag.
“One banana. And tell the truth, if something asks.”


🚲 The Forest Sounds Funny Today

They passed the usual turn.
Past the broken gate and the leaning tree.

Somewhere near the big anthill, Mukshi heard it.

Bounce. Roll. Tap.

A small, red bouncy ball—rolling in the dust.

He stopped. Picked it up.

Daksh tilted.

“Not mine,” Mukshi said.
“But it’s nice.”


🧒 A Stranger With Small Steps

From behind the bushes, a smaller boy appeared.
Shirt half tucked. Hair sideways.

“My ball!” he said.

Mukshi looked at it in his palm.

“I didn’t take it,” he said.
“I just saw it. I picked it up.”

The boy nodded.
“Okay.”
He took the ball, looked at it like it was still moving.
Then gave a small smile.
“Thanks,” he said quietly.
And walked back the way he came.


🚲 The Ride Felt Different

No breeze. No big talks.

Just Daksh, flying slow.
And Mukshi, thinking quiet.

“I felt like keeping it,” he thought.
“But I gave it back.
I told the truth.”

And somehow,
the road didn’t feel so heavy anymore.


🏡 The Needle and the Pause

Amma was still stitching.

“You saw something today?” she asked.

Mukshi nodded.
“A ball.”

“Did you take it?”

“I felt like keeping it,” he said.
“But I gave it back.
I told him the truth.”

Amma didn’t ask more.
She stitched two more loops. Then said:

“Some things stay lighter if you carry them honest.”

Daksh blinked once from the window.

“That means yes,” Mukshi said.
“And that still means yes.”


Telling the truth doesn’t always sparkle.
But it keeps your pockets light,
And your road a little easier to ride.