The Chronicles Of The Jungle

Once upon a time, there lived an explorer. He was the greatest admirer of the forests and jungles to ever exist. All his life revolved around nature. He was never connected to the world, he lived in a house or better to call it a hut tucked deep within the heart of a dense, whispering jungle.

Far from the nearest village or city, stood a small house that seemed both welcoming and secretive. It was built of dark, weathered wood, hand-cut from the surrounding trees, with a sloping roof covered in moss and ferns that blended it seamlessly into the surroundings. Thick vines curled around the porch beams, as if the jungle itself was hugging the house tightly.

One of his secrets well guarded lies in his magical hat. A hat gifted to him by nature. The hat was green in colour. Its body shimmered with green glitters. The explorer’s hat was no ordinary hatit was a wide-brimmed, dusty thing, stitched with threads of silver that shimmered faintly under moonlight. It had the power to glow softly when danger was near. It could sense hidden paths, whisper forgotten languages, and sometimes it murmured secrets only the jungle knew.

One late evening he went to venture into a dark jungle. That jungle had long pine trees. Its leaves made a big roof in the sky. He wore his hat and started his scout. After covering a few miles his hat whispered, “on the right”. The jungle explorer stumbles upon a hidden, uncharted grove where time moves differently. It felt as if each minute lasted for 90 seconds. Everything was passing slowly, the wind, the sand, the moonlight, all was slowly passing from his face. His magical hat, once a mere tool, begins to speakguiding him to an ancient secret buried beneath the roots of a forgotten civilization. There was a building or maybe a palace. All dusty and covered with spider webs. It was not clear what exactly it was. The explorer went inside, battling from spiders and bats.

The very second when he opened the door of that palace the whole jungle started echoing. The trees started swinging crazily. The wind was breaking the records. The whole jungle was screaming, “You have walked our roots, worn our silence, heard our heartbeats. You are not lost, explorer… you are returned. You are ours. You are king. You are our lord “. The jungle seemed to remember him.

In his astonishment he whispered to the hat, “help me! Who am I?”

The hat, pulsing with ancient magic, whispered in a low, timeless voice
“you are my rebirth… the next chapter of my unfinished vow. I left, but you remained—memory, ashes, waiting. Now you’ve returned, in a different form… but the crown is still yours. The jungle has been waiting for you, my king.”

The leaves bow, the environment happy, dark, and alive.

***

This article is published by Bookosmia, India’s #1 publisher for and by young people. Bookosmia publishes stories, books, podcasts, events, TED-Ed talks, workshops, bedtime stories and more related to kids and young adults.

Photo Credit – Copyright Free, Royalty Free images from Pexels  and canva.

Want to publish your articles, reviews, stories, audio stories, bedtime stories and poems ?

Did you know that children can submit audio stories to be turned into Bedtime Stories and published on Bedtime Stories – A Podcast by Bookosmia?

Write to us at sara@bookosmia.com or submit your article at the link below

Get Published

Buy the Books

https://bookosmia.com/shop/

Whispers Of The Jungle I Story By Janisha, 13, New Delhi