Kshitij is a bright boy who had ideas popping out of his head like popcorn from a popcorn machine. He was smart for his age. A lot of Kshitij’s friends couldn’t pronounce his name, so they called him K.
Now K’s parents trusted their seven-year-old and used to leave him alone at home knowing that he would be fine.
One evening, they were just about to leave, when a tearful K said,
“Can I come with you, mama? I don’t want to stay alone at home.”
“But you’ve stayed alone at home countless times before,” K’s dad said, surprised.
“Yes, papa. But I had a bad dream yesterday and I don’t want to be alone now.” K was sobbing now. His parents cancelled their plans and stayed home that night.
One day, while waiting outside his class teacher’s room to submit his assignment, K overheard a worrying conversation. “I really can’t figure out what is wrong with Kshitij these days,” his teacher was saying.
“Yes, I know what you mean.”
“It’s difficult to characterise — it’s like that spark of originality has gone. I don’t think there is any problem in his family. His parents are extremely supportive. But then, you never know.”
Kshitij felt miserable. His teachers thought that he had lost something called the ‘original spark’. He walked home slowly. He could not figure out why he hadn’t had any bright ideas lately. His mind preoccupied, K collided with someone.
“Sorry. I am really sorry,” he said looking at the balloon vendor.
“No, that’s okay. I know what is bothering you. He told me,” answered the vendor, pointing to a ‘Winnie the Pooh’ shaped balloon straining at the end of a string. “He said a mermaid shaped balloon somewhere can help you.”
K found all this difficult to believe. He walked on, looking for a mermaid shaped balloon. He found one tied to a corner lamppost. Not sure how to start a conversation with a balloon, he said, “Hello”.
The mermaid said, “Oh, hi. You need to apologise to the idea imp. Just take a walk in the park. You'll figure out what to do.”
Idea imp appears
K walked to the neighbourhood park, wondering if he was dreaming. Shaking his head in disbelief, he sat down on a bench by the pond.
“Don’t shake your head, you’re making me dizzy,” said a voice which was coming from his head. A tiny yellow creature with a long nose and tiny eyes got out of his head and perched itself on K’s knee.
“Who are you?” asked K.
“I’m the idea imp and I’m very upset with you, K,” said the creature. “You have, or rather you used to have, an awesome reputation as the chap with the bright ideas. Well, I’m the one who supplies all those ideas. You were one of the special babies who got allotted an idea imp, but you make my life tough.”
“How did I do that?” K asked.
“Well, if I have to come up with ideas, I need some privacy. And for the last three months, there has always been someone around filling your mind with thoughts, so I have no place to work. You used to be happy alone. What changed?”
“I... I had a bad dream,” said K.
“A bad dream? What a sorry excuse! I think I’ll move to another brain.”
“No, don’t do that,” said K. “I'm not afraid of being alone any more. You can come back to my head. You can trust me.” The imp believed him and with a whoosh, entered K’s brain again. K immediately felt the difference. “Welcome back,” he whispered.
A week later, K was waiting outside his teacher's room and overheard their conversation. “You know, last week I mentioned that Kshitij had lost his spark of originality? Well, I’m glad to report that it's back ten times stronger now.”
“It’s great to have him back.”
K was thrilled and proud. He grinned and whispered, “Thank you, imp.”
