In a quiet little neighborhood called Newtown Park, there was a cheerful yellow house and a garden full of marigolds. This house belonged to Mr. and Mrs. Sharma, and inside lived their four children.
The eldest was Aryan, a serious and thoughtful boy of twelve who chewed his food so slowly and loudly, it drove everyone a little crazy. Then came the twins — Meera and Myra, both ten, always full of fun and ideas, with matching ponytails and a love for organizing things. And finally, there was Gappu (Gopal), the baby of the family — a chubby six-year-old who loved to eat everything in sight. Gappu never chewed his food; he simply gulped it down like a vacuum cleaner.
Right next door, in a cream-colored house with green windows, lived the Khan family. They had three kids: Mahira, a clever and calm twelve-year-old girl; Seraj, a talkative nine-year-old who loved making paper planes; and Roshan, the youngest — always running, always giggling, and always ready for trouble.
One bright Saturday morning, both families were in a hurry. The parents were invited to a wedding at a faraway church — a grown-up event with no kids allowed.
Mrs. Sharma called out as she adjusted her earrings, “We’ll be back after sunset! No stepping out of the house, alright?”
“We’ve packed lunch and snacks,” added Mr. Sharma. “Stay inside and behave. Aryan, you’re in charge.”
Next door, Mr. Seraj gave similar instructions. “Mahira, look after your brothers. No going outside, okay?”
The children all nodded, pretending to listen seriously.
As soon as the parents’ cars disappeared down the road, a hush fell over both houses.
Then — thump! thump! — three knocks on the shared fence.
It was Roshan. “Psst! Let’s have a picnic in the park!”
Myra’s eyes widened. “Yes! We have food!”
“We can bring the cricket bat!” said Seraj.
“And the football!” added Aryan, already packing a bag.
“But… they said no going out,” Mahira reminded them.
“Oh come on,” said Meera. “We’ll be back before evening. Just a little picnic. What’s the worst that could happen?”
Gappu clapped his hands. “Piknik! I want! Pankake!”
They all burst into giggles and marched off — seven children with their mats, food, and games.
After locking the door, Aryan carefully slipped the little house key into his lunch bag .
The park was perfect. Birds chirped, the wind danced through the trees, and the kids laid out their picnic like pros. The girls skipped and spun around chasing butterflies. The boys played football until they were red-faced and panting.
Gappu? He was having the time of his life — eating.
First a banana, then a sandwich, then two pancakes he “borrowed” from the Seraj kids’ basket. Then some biscuits. Then a bun. No chewing. Just swallow, swallow, gulp.
As the sun began to sink lower in the sky, the kids packed up.
“Time to go,” said Mahira, brushing leaves off the mat.
They walked home happily, first dropping Mahira, Seraj, and Roshan at their door.
Then the Sharma kids reached their own gate — only to find their front door locked tight.
Aryan checked his lunch bag.
No key.
He searched his pockets, then Meera’s, then Myra’s.
Still no key.
“Did we leave it in the park?” asked Meera, biting her lip.
“Maybe we dropped it somewhere on the way,” said Myra.
“We have to go back and find it,” Aryan said seriously.
But before they could make a plan, Gappu started holding his stomach. His face turned pale and red at the same time.
“I don’t feel good,” he whispered.
They all grew quiet and worried. Gappu’s eyes had turned yellow.
Just then, headlights beamed down the street. Two cars pulled into the driveway.
“MOM AND DAD!” Meera cried. “They’re back!”
Mrs. Sharma got out and rushed toward them. “Why are you outside?! What’s wrong with Gappu?!”
The children all started talking at once. “We went out—we lost the key—and he’s not well—”
“What?!” Mr. Sharma exclaimed.
“We have to take him to the doctor!” cried Meera.
“Get in the car!” shouted Mrs. Sharma.
They picked Gappu up and hurried toward the car.
As they gently lifted Gappu toward the door, a sudden noise broke the tension—
BLEERRGGHH!
Gappu vomited right on the pavement.
Out came bits of sandwich, pancake crumbs, a mango slice, and something that shimmered under the porch light.
Everyone stared in surprise.
There, shining on the concrete, was the missing house key.
For a moment, no one said a word.
Myra suddenly howled with excitement, “He ate the key!”
Seraj, from his window next door, laughed and called out,
“And that’s why you should chew your food, Gappu!”
The kids and their parents all burst out laughing — even Mrs. Sharma couldn’t help but smile.
Mrs. Sharma opened the door with a spare key from her purse and hugged Gappu tightly. “You’re still grounded,” she said softly. “But right now, I’m just glad you’re okay.”
That night, the kids learned three things:
- Don’t leave the house when you’re told not to.
- Always know where the house key is.
- And most importantly…
CHEW. YOUR. FOOD.
Read the story in Hindi: जब बच्चों ने सुनी नहीं बात…Park, Picnic aur Ek Secret Surprise!
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