The Magic Pen
[©copyright is asserted on behalf of authors in the Shamsi Collective by Adam Bethlehem]
Khyber lived in a house with a dark, scary room. Nobody would go inside because people said it was full of ghosts.
Kids were even afraid to go near the old, creaky door but Khyber had heard there was a special chest inside. It was his old Grandma’s, and ghosts had sealed it closed with a lock so it could not be opened.
“What’s in Grandma’s box?” he thought.
Khyber was always curious and dreamed about going into the room to find out about all the secrets.
“What’s in the ghost room?” Khyber asked his mom many times.
“Why did they lock the box?”
Her answers never made sense to him and, one day, when he was feeling brave, he tiptoed to Grandma’s room … and tapped on the wooden door with his fingers.
An old chain with a padlock kept the door closed. He touched the lock and pulled carefully.
Clank! went the chain.
Khyber was scared and ran, but nothing happened. He turned back to the door, and pulled harder.
Click! the metal padlock opened.
Khyber froze, waiting for a ghost to come out.
It was quiet and he was still scared, but he took a deep breath and pushed slowly on the heavy wood. A cold, wet smell hit his nose when he peeked in.
His heart was beating fast when he stepped inside. The only light was from a small window high on the wall but he could see the figure of a person standing in the corner.
“Who’s there?” he whispered.
There was no answer and Khyber’s heart was pounding as he crept carefully across the room. When he was close to the wall, he reached out a hand … it was just a coat hanging on a nail. In the pocket he found a big iron key and when he looked around, in the dim light beneath the window, he could see something made of wood.
“Grandma’s box!”
The chest was covered in dust but the old key slipped into the lock and turned easily.
Clunk!
The lid opened and a cloud of smoke billowed into the room, covering Khyber’s face and eyes.
He pushed the little window open and, when the smoke cleared, he crawled closer to look inside.
The chest was empty except for a small package wrapped in cloth and tied with leather. There were letters written in a beautiful script.
“A Gift for the Brave.”
The woven cloth opened and inside was a pen.
Khyber had seen pens before but this one was strange and different. He tried writing a line on his hand but nothing happened except for a little glow in the dimness of the light.
Then he thought of flowers and tried drawing.
Poof!
A rose appeared on the skin of his arm. No colour, just lines, exactly like his drawing.
Next he tried an apple.
Poof!
The real apple appeared, but it was wobbly and had no shade or pigment.
“If I draw better, I can make pretty things!” Khyber thought.
That was when he tried something different. He wrote the word car.
“Pop!”
A beautiful toy car appeared in his hand!
He thought of Malala, his little sister, who wanted a doll and wrote dol as carefully as he could.
Nothing happened. He looked at the writing and saw the mistake. When he added the second L …
Pop!
A beautiful doll appeared, looking just like Malala.
Khyber was so happy he could hardly stay still in his clothes!
He put the pen back in the box and ran out of his grandmother’s dark room. The other kids were shocked when Khyber showed them the toy car and doll.
“I opened Grandma’s box,” he told them. “There was a magic pen!”
The kids’ mouths dropped open. They were scared to go near Grandma’s room but Khyber led them back.
The big iron key was still in the lock of the chest but no smoke appeared when the lid opened and the box was empty.
The pen was gone. As if it had all been just a dream.
Khyber told his father the whole story when they were alone because nobody else would believe him.
“My brave boy,” his dad listened, before reaching into his pocket for a pen. “Here’s another one for you to try.”
Khyber tested the new pen on his hand but nothing happened.
“The magic has gone.”
The father patted his son’s head, smiled, and offered a piece of paper.
“Look inside your thoughts to draw the picture … keep trying and see what happens.”
Original Pashto text:
