Kids stories by Nashmiya

 Moxo and Moxi: A Tale of Love, Laughter, and Local Culture Once upon a time, in a quiet little village, there lived a loving pair of mice named Moxo and Moxi . Moxo, the hardworking husband, ventured out each day to gather food, carefully avoiding the many dangers that mice often face in the big world. One day, Moxo took longer than usual to return home. His wife, Moxi, sat anxiously with their little ones, waiting and worrying. As time passed, her concern turned into frustration. "Maybe he’s found a pretty little mouse out there and forgotten about me," she thought, her tail flicking with impatience. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. "Who’s there?" she called. "It’s me, Moxo," came his cheerful reply. In a playful, sing-song voice, Moxi teased: "Sailiak pashe, mailiak pashe, mai amotowa Moxo?" (“Did you forget me while looking for a girlfriend, Moxo?”) Moxo chuckled and answered proudly: "Ajiye kana, babai kana, kurku ...

  Shorti and Borti’s Adventure: A Tale of Two Clever Mice Once upon a time, in a quiet little village, there lived two mice named Shorti and Borti . Their early life was filled with hardship—scarcity of food had taken their parents away, and they were left to survive on their own. A Strange Discovery One day, the two mice went to a nearby field in search of food. Shorti spotted a large radish and called out: “Borti, take this one out! It’s a good one!” Borti tugged at the radish with all his strength. Suddenly, it popped out of the ground, and Borti went tumbling backward from the force! To their surprise, a large hole appeared where the radish had been, and smoke was rising from it. Curious, they decided to climb down the hole to see where it led. The Ogre’s Kitchen At the bottom, they found themselves in a strange underground home. Inside, a fox and an ogre were busy cooking Shrabat —a traditional dish of Gilgit-Baltistan made with wheat flour, water, and butter...

  Once upon a time, in the misty mountains of Gilgit-Baltistan, a group of shepherds spent their days grazing sheep in green meadows and their nights sitting around a warm bonfire, telling stories. One evening, as the fire crackled, they whispered nervously about a fierce lion that roamed the forest. But among them sat a mischievous shepherd who was secretly a thief. While the others trembled, he puffed his chest and boasted loudly, “A lion? Ha! I’d chop that beast into tiny pieces if I ever saw him!” What he didn’t know was that the lion himself was lurking nearby, listening carefully … and getting absolutely terrified of this “fearless” shepherd. Later that night, everyone fell asleep. The thief crept out, planning to steal a fat sheep for himself. Meanwhile, the lion also crept into the sheep pen, planning to grab dinner. In the pitch dark, the shepherd groped around, feeling for the fattest sheep. His hands landed on a large, warm back, and he thought, Perfect, this ...

 Once upon a time, in the high mountains of Gilgit-Baltistan, there lived a mother goat and her little kid. They were part of a happy herd that roamed freely across the steep cliffs and grassy meadows. One bright morning, while the herd was grazing peacefully, a hunter from a nearby village appeared, climbing toward the goats. The mother goat noticed him from afar, and so did her little one.  The kid, frightened, spoke to his mother in a sing-song way, as passed down through generations: Kid: “Aali mama fatu mushak wato…” (“Oh mother, a man is coming behind us!”) Mother: “Palai nazer payaye payaloo hanu…” (“My lovely child, that is just a shepherd from the village.”) But the kid looked again and said: Kid: “Aali mama, shaky ja tumak hanu…” (“Oh mother, he has a gun on his shoulder!”) Mother: “Palai nazer kotai kunali hanu…” (“My dear, it is only his walking stick.”) The kid grew more worried and pointed: Kid: “Aali mama, pity ja koto hanu…” (“Oh mothe...

Once upon a time, in a faraway kingdom, there lived a young prince named Tawalut. One day, the prince set out to tour his entire kingdom. While exploring a remote village, he came across an old woman baking bread over a clay stove. Curious, the prince approached her. “What are you making, old mother?” he asked kindly. “I am baking bread for my four witch sisters,” she replied without looking up. The prince’s curiosity deepened. “Witch sisters? Do you mean they are truly witches?” “Of course,” the old woman said. “It is my duty to prepare bread for them because they are busy guarding the path that leads to the Asman Pari—the Sky Fairy.” “The Sky Fairy?” the prince repeated, intrigued. “Yes, child. She is the most beautiful fairy in all the heavens and earth,” the woman said with a knowing smile. The prince’s heart stirred with longing at the thought of such beauty. Right then, he made up his mind—he would meet this fairy, and perhaps even marry her. He asked the old wo...

  Khacharo, the mischievous boy from the first story, was now living with his uncle and aunt in a quiet village. This time, his uncle sent him on a task: “Go to the mountains where the sheep graze in the meadows,” his uncle said. “Bring back all the wool on the donkey’s back—and come back quickly.”Khacharo, with his usual energy, set off with the donkey.  The animal, however, was known for being stubborn and rebellious. When they reached the mountain meadows, Khacharo collected the wool from the shepherd and carefully loaded it onto the donkey’s back. Their journey back down the mountains began. But soon, trouble came. Partway down the path, the donkey suddenly refused to move. It sat down on the trail and wouldn’t budge. “Get up!” Khacharo shouted, tugging at its rope. He kicked it, smacked it lightly, and pleaded, “My uncle told me to come back quickly! If you don’t move, we’ll be late!” Yet the donkey wouldn’t rise. What Khacharo didn’t know was that his uncle had t...

  Once upon a time, in a quiet little village surrounded by green fields and tall trees, there lived a poor boy named Malang. He and his mother lived in a tiny hut near the village shops. Malang’s father had passed away when he was just a baby, so his mother worked hard to raise him alone. Every day, Malang’s mother sent him to the shop to bring home some food. But because they were so poor, he often had to beg for food instead of buying it. One day, the shopkeeper grew angry and shouted at him. He grabbed Malang by the arm and threw him out of the shop.                                         Heartbroken, Malang ran away and sat by the river, tears falling onto the water’s surface. As he sat there crying, something glittered beneath the rippling waves. Curiously, Malang reached into the water and pulled out three golden balls , each one glowing softly in his hands. Malang’s st...