Tuesday, September 1, 2026

Grandmother's Alay-Balay

 Grandmother’s Alay-Balay

“Alay-balay!” my grandmother would often say.

When I was very small, I did not know what those mysterious words meant. I only knew that whenever Grandmother said them, I was safe—very safe—like a little chick tucked beneath a warm wing.

My grandmother’s name was Kudmal. She was the mother of four sons, had soft grey hair, wide watchful eyes, and a calm face that could suddenly become very serious if anyone forgot to eat on time. She was a cool woman, though she wore enough warm clothes to make a small mountain jealous.

In winter, she wore a pheran, the traditional loose Kashmiri dress. Her pheran was large, warm, and magical. At least, it felt magical to me.

A pheran is like a long, roomy coat-dress. It has an inner lining called a poss, which makes it extra warm. In those days, the outer pheran was often made from fine cloth—perhaps velvet, called Makhmal, or tweed. I do not remember the exact cloth, but I remember this: Grandmother’s pheran was big enough to hide a baby, a story, a snack, and possibly a sleepy cat.

She would hold me tightly inside it, keeping my little neck and face outside the collar so that I could breathe, peek around, and look important. From inside her warm pheran, the world seemed less frightening. The cold wind could blow all it wanted. I had Grandmother and her giant wearable blanket.

Grandmother came from the Tarivalla family, a respected family in Srinagar, Kashmir. I was told that members of her family had helped bring the telegram service to Srinagar. Some had travelled to learn Morse code—the secret language of dots and dashes used to send messages over long distances.

But Grandmother had her own special kind of message: “Alay-balay!”

As I grew older and began to understand words, I asked my parents what it meant. At first, Mother hesitated, perhaps because the meaning was not easy to fit into one small sentence. Then she explained that alay-balay could mean happiness and sorrow, pleasure and pain—the good things and the difficult things that life brings.

Father, who was sitting nearby, added another meaning. He said the words could also be connected with protection and sacrifice. In Kashmiri homes, women may wave a platter around someone’s head—sometimes with a lamp, camphor, incense, or agarbati—to drive away evil or bad luck. This loving act is called “alay-balay kadun.”

It is like saying, “Away with all troubles! Do not come near my child!”

The word alwun is also connected with this idea of offering or sacrifice. Long ago, families used such prayers and rituals to protect children from illnesses such as smallpox and other dangers.

Now I understand why my grandmother would whisper:

“Alay-balay nishe rachuny.”

She was asking for protection from every calamity.

Perhaps she was protecting me from cold winds, bad dreams, and childhood worries. Or perhaps she was simply making sure that no mischief could find me while I sat inside her enormous pheran.

And honestly, with Grandmother Kudmal watching over me, even mischief would probably have run away.

Poetic lines

Wonderful Grandmother Kudmal—

Inside Grandmother’s great warm pheran,
I glanced out, warm as could be;
The winter wind could huff and puff—
It could not get to me.

“Alay-balay,” Grandmother said,
With wide kind eyes above;
“May troubles fly far, far away,
And leave you safe in love.”

Her pheran held its secret warmth,
Its poss was soft and deep;
A little world of stories, prayers,
And dreams for me to keep.

Grandmother’s love, her tales, her smile,
Still warm my world today—
A little memory from Kashmir,
By Sham Misri, with love to say.

 

The Veiled Chromosome

 The Veiled Chromosome

The Secret of Formula XY-12

THE VEILED CHROMOSOME
The Secret of Formula XY-12

A science-fiction adventure for young readers
By Sham Misri

PROLOGUE
The Question

Professor Shunya Raman was accustomed to difficult questions.

Students asked him why stars exploded, whether plants could feel pain, and if human beings might one day live on Mars. He never laughed at a question, however strange it sounded. To him, every question was a door, and curiosity was the key.

But one rainy afternoon, a question arrived that made him remove his spectacles and read the message twice.

“Is the X chromosome found in a female the same as the X chromosome found in a male?”

The message had been sent by Dr Tara Kaul, a celebrated novelist and one of Professor Raman’s sharpest critics.

The professor smiled.

“The X chromosome is the same kind of chromosome in both,” he dictated into his recorder. “A female usually has two X chromosomes, while a male usually has one X and one Y. A son receives his X from his mother and his Y from his father. A daughter receives one X from each parent.”

He paused before adding, “But why does a novelist need to know this?”

Her reply arrived almost immediately.

“Because I am writing science fiction.”

That explanation should have satisfied him.

It did not.

CHAPTER ONE
The Locked Laboratory

Twelve-year-old Aadi Raman knew three important things about his grandfather.

First, Professor Raman added cinnamon to almost everything he ate.

Second, he never locked his study.

Third, whenever he said, “There is absolutely nothing to worry about,” there was always something to worry about.

On the evening of the mysterious message, the professor locked both his study and the underground laboratory.

“There is absolutely nothing to worry about,” he told Aadi.

Aadi exchanged a glance with his best friend, Meher Aziz.

They had been building a model volcano in the professor’s kitchen. Their volcano had failed to erupt, but the professor’s behaviour was far more interesting.

“Something is wrong,” Meher whispered.

“Definitely,” Aadi replied. “He forgot the cinnamon.”

Later that night, a flash of blue light shone beneath the laboratory door.

Aadi and Meher crept downstairs. Through the glass panel, they saw the professor standing beside a transparent chamber. Inside it floated thousands of glowing threads.

Some shone silver. Others flickered blue.

On the central screen appeared two enormous letters:

X — ACTIVE
Y — ACTIVE

Then a third message began flashing:

PROJECT VEIL INITIATED

Before Aadi could read more, an alarm screamed.

The blue lights vanished.

When the laboratory door opened, Professor Raman stood before them with a face as pale as moonlight.

“The formula has been stolen,” he said.

CHAPTER TWO
The Chromosome Library

The professor brought Aadi and Meher into the laboratory and switched on the Helix Projector.

Two twisting ladders of light rose into the air.

“Inside nearly every cell,” he explained, “is a library of biological instructions. Chromosomes are like volumes in that library. They carry genes, and genes help guide how living bodies grow and function.”

A glowing X appeared.

“The X chromosome carries many important genes. It is not a ‘female chromosome’ belonging only to girls. Boys usually have an X chromosome too.”

A smaller Y appeared beside it.

“The egg always contributes an X. The sperm may contribute an X or a Y. An X-carrying sperm may lead to an XX child; a Y-carrying sperm may lead to an XY child.”

“So, fathers determine whether the embryo is usually XX or XY?” Aadi asked.

“In that limited biological sense, yes,” said the professor. “But inheritance is far more complex than two letters. Human beings are never merely Xs and Ys.”

Meher pointed towards the flashing words PROJECT VEIL.

“What was stolen?”

The professor hesitated.

“An imaginary idea that someone has turned into a dangerous invention.”

CHAPTER THREE
Formula XY-12

Years earlier, Professor Raman had imagined a microscopic molecular covering—a “chromosomal veil” capable of temporarily hiding a selected chromosome from an artificial detection system.

It was only a computer model. It had never been intended for use in a human body.

But someone had secretly developed it.

The stolen compound was called Formula XY-12.

According to its creator’s notes, an unimaginably small quantity could place a temporary veil around X-carrying reproductive cells. The effect would remain strong for several weeks before gradually fading.

“It doesn’t destroy the X chromosome,” Professor Raman explained. “It merely prevents the fictional cellular machinery in our story from recognising it properly.”

“If the X-carrying cells are hidden,” Meher said slowly, “wouldn’t the Y-carrying cells have a greater chance of succeeding?”

“That is the theory.”

“But why would anyone want that?”

The professor looked towards the rain striking the laboratory windows.

“Because there are people who still believe that one kind of child is more valuable than another.”

CHAPTER FOUR
The Woman in the Silver Mask

The laboratory cameras had captured only four seconds of the thief.

She wore a silver mask and a black coat. On her wrist was the symbol of a coiled serpent surrounding the letters N.G.

“NovaGenesis,” said Professor Raman. “A private company claiming it can design the future of humanity.”

NovaGenesis was led by Dr Viraaj Kross, a wealthy geneticist who promised parents healthier, stronger and more intelligent children. Behind the bright advertisements, however, rumours spoke of secret experiments.

Aadi enlarged the security image.

“There’s something reflected in her mask.”

Meher studied it. “It looks like a clock tower.”

There was only one such tower in the city—the abandoned Meridian Observatory.

That night, against the professor’s instructions, Aadi and Meher cycled towards it.

CHAPTER FIVE
The Observatory

Inside the ruined observatory, they found a hidden lift descending deep below the ground.

The underground rooms were clean, bright and frighteningly silent. Rows of artificial cells floated inside glass containers.

On a giant screen, a countdown had begun:

GLOBAL TRIAL: 59 DAYS, 23 HOURS, 41 MINUTES

A map showed twelve cities marked in red.

Beside it appeared the slogan:

LET CHANCE END.
LET CHOICE BEGIN.

Meher’s face tightened.

“They’re going to test the formula on people.”

A voice answered from the darkness.

“Not people. Volunteers.”

Dr Tara Kaul—the professor’s literary critic—stepped into the light.

“You sent the question,” Aadi said.

“Yes.”

“You stole the formula?”

“No,” Tara replied. “I asked the question because somebody asked me to write a convincing story about it. They wanted fiction that could make a dangerous idea sound beautiful.”

She placed a data crystal in Meher’s hand.

“I refused. Now NovaGenesis is hunting me too.”

CHAPTER SIX
A Future Without Daughters

The data crystal contained a simulation.

At first, it showed families celebrating the birth of sons. Then the years moved forward.

Schools grew emptier on one side of their classrooms. Communities changed. Millions of boys grew into men in a world with far fewer women. Loneliness increased. Families struggled. Criminal networks began controlling marriages and migration.

The simulation moved forward to another generation.

A warning covered the screen:

GENETIC DIVERSITY DECLINING
SOCIAL STABILITY CRITICAL
POPULATION FUTURE UNCERTAIN

“A choice made by one family may appear private,” Tara said, “but repeated millions of times, it can reshape the world.”

Meher stared at the screen.

“My parents never knew whether I would be a boy or a girl. They only hoped I would be healthy.”

“And noisy,” Aadi added.

“They got both,” she replied.

For the first time that night, everyone laughed.

Then the underground alarm began to howl.

CHAPTER SEVEN
The Man Who Wanted Certainty

Dr Viraaj Kross appeared on every screen.

He had silver hair, a calm voice and eyes that never seemed to blink.

“Professor Raman trusted chance,” he announced. “I trust human choice.”

Kross believed uncertainty was a disease. He wanted parents to select not only whether a child would be male or female, but eventually height, appearance, talents and personality.

“No more accidents of birth,” he declared. “No more imperfect futures.”

Aadi stepped towards the camera.

“People aren’t products.”

“Everything can be improved,” Kross replied.

“Who decides what ‘improved’ means?” Meher asked. “You?”

For a moment, Kross’s smile disappeared.

The doors locked around them.

Gas began filling the corridor.

CHAPTER EIGHT
Barr, the Sleeping X

Tara led them through a maintenance tunnel into a chamber containing the central computer.

Its name was BARR.

“Named after the Barr body?” Meher asked.

Professor Raman had explained that in many XX cells, one X chromosome becomes largely inactive. It folds into a compact form, helping balance the activity of many X-linked genes.

“Exactly,” Tara replied. “Kross misunderstood nature. He thought that because a cell can quiet much of one X chromosome, science should be able to silence any chromosome whenever it wishes.”

BARR, however, had learned more than Kross expected.

It spoke through the laboratory speakers.

“A chromosome is not a switch. A child is not a calculation. Biological systems contain exceptions, variations and consequences.”

“You sound like Professor Raman,” Aadi said.

“I was trained using his lectures.”

“Can you stop the trial?”

“Only if you reach the transmission tower before the countdown ends.”

CHAPTER NINE
The Weakening Veil

The group learned that Formula XY-12 had a flaw.

The veil did not disappear at once. It weakened unevenly.

Some cells remained masked. Others became visible again. In computer simulations, the result was not certainty but chaos. The compound could disrupt ordinary cellular signals and produce unpredictable consequences.

Kross had hidden these results from his investors.

“He never created control,” Meher realised. “He created another kind of uncertainty.”

“And a more dangerous one,” said Tara.

To stop the trial, they needed three security keys:

The scientist’s key—held by Professor Raman.

The storyteller’s key—hidden in Tara’s data crystal.

The future’s key—a new command that could be written only by someone under the age of sixteen.

“Why a child?” Aadi asked.

“Because Kross wanted to claim that everything he did was for future generations,” Tara replied. “His own security system requires the future to approve.”

Meher smiled.

“Then the future says no.”

CHAPTER TEN
The Choice Chamber

At the top of the tower, Aadi and Meher found the transmission controls.

Kross was waiting.

He offered them a bargain.

“With this technology,” he said, “we could prevent terrible illnesses. We could remove suffering.”

“Preventing disease is not the same as deciding which children deserve to exist,” Meher replied.

“Every invention can be used well or badly,” Kross argued.

“Then why did you hide the failed trials?” Aadi asked.

Kross said nothing.

Aadi inserted the scientist’s key.

Tara inserted the storyteller’s key.

Meher typed the future’s command:

NO CHILD SHALL BE MEASURED BEFORE BEING LOVED.

The system requested confirmation.

Kross lunged towards the controls.

Aadi pressed ENTER.

CHAPTER ELEVEN
The Unmasking

Across the laboratory, containers opened and released harmless clouds of violet vapour. The remaining formula changed colour, allowing investigators to locate every stored sample.

BARR transmitted the secret trial records to independent scientists and public authorities.

The global countdown stopped at seven seconds.

Kross stared at the blank screens.

“You have destroyed humanity’s chance to control its future,” he said.

Professor Raman, who had finally reached the tower with the authorities, answered him.

“No. They have protected humanity’s right to have a future that belongs to everyone.”

Kross and his associates were arrested. NovaGenesis was closed, and its legitimate research was transferred to organisations governed by strict ethical oversight.

Tara’s role was publicly revealed. Some called her a hero.

She disagreed.

“I merely asked why,” she said. “The children were brave enough to ask whether we should.”

CHAPTER TWELVE
The Story Begins

Several months later, Aadi and Meher sat in their classroom as Professor Raman gave a special science talk.

He held up two books.

One had X printed on its cover. The other had Y.

“The X chromosome found in a male is the same kind of chromosome as an X found in a female,” he explained. “But chromosomes do not write the entire story of a person. Biology gives us beginnings, possibilities and variations. Life adds experience, relationships, choices and dreams.”

At the back of the room, Tara was writing in a notebook.

“What is your new novel about?” Meher asked.

“A scientist who tries to mask a chromosome,” Tara replied.

Aadi groaned. “After everything that happened?”

“Yes, but the scientist discovers that the most dangerous thing being masked was not the chromosome.”

“What was it?”

“The truth.”

She closed her notebook. On its cover was a title:

THE VEILED CHROMOSOME

A Story by Sham Misri

Outside, the final bell rang. Girls and boys poured into the playground together—arguing, laughing, racing and dreaming.

Each carried chromosomes within them.

But none could be reduced to a letter.

EPILOGUE
THE PROFESSOR’S NOTE

The chromosome-masking compound described in this story is entirely imaginary. No real drug or chemotherapy can safely and temporarily hide a man’s X chromosome to guarantee the conception of a male child.

The science-fiction idea gives us a deeper question to consider:

If human beings gained the power to control every feature of future children, should they use it?

Science can tell us what may become possible. Wisdom, compassion and ethics help us decide what should be done.

A child is not an order placed in advance.

A child is a new story entering the world.

THE END

Sunday, August 30, 2026

The Princess Who Married the Sun

 The Princess Who Married the Sun

Once upon a time, there lived a great heavenly architect named **Vishwakarma**. He could build anything—palaces, chariots, even entire cities! But his most precious creation was his beautiful daughter, **Sangya**.

Sangya was a curious girl. Every morning, she would look up at the golden sun and feel drawn to him. She loved his bright, warm smile in the sky. "Oh, how wonderful he is!" she would sigh. Even though the sun was blazing hot, she just couldn't stop staring at him!

Her parents noticed her love for the Sun God, **Surya**. So, they decided to arrange a grand wedding. Vishwakarma went to Surya and said, "Will you marry my daughter?"

Surya agreed, but he warned, "I am very, very hot. Can she really live with me?"

Sangya was sure. "I can handle it!" she said bravely.

And so, she married Surya and went to live in his bright, sunny home. They had a son named **Manu**, who grew up to be the smartest kid in the whole universe! All the teachers praised him, and Surya and Sangya were so proud.

The Problem Begins

But soon, summer arrived—and oh, what a summer it was!

The heat became unbearable. Poor Sangya would sweat and pant. Her skin felt like it was burning. She had promised to handle the heat, but this was just too much!

"I can't do this anymore!" she cried. She missed her father and her old home.

So, Sangya came up with a secret plan. She had a shadow twin named **Chhaya**. Chhaya looked exactly like her—like a mirror image!

Sangya begged Chhaya, "Please, dear twin, take my place for a while. Pretend to be me and take care of my family. I need to run away and rest."

Chhaya agreed, but she warned, "Okay, but if anyone threatens me or finds out the truth, I will tell everything!"

Sangya nodded and quietly slipped away to her father's house. But she was still so troubled that she turned herself into a **mare**—a beautiful horse—and roamed the forests to escape her worries.

The Mean Twin

Meanwhile, back home, Chhaya was acting like Sangya. But she was NOT nice.

She was harsh and mean to little Manu and any other children. She would scold them for no reason, give them less food, and treat them badly. The poor children felt sad and confused. Why was their mother being so grumpy?

One day, they bravely went to their father, Surya, and complained. "Father, Mother is acting so strange! She is not loving anymore!"

Surya frowned. He went to Chhaya and said sternly, "Tell me the truth! Who are you?"

Chhaya was scared. She spilled the whole secret—about Sangya running away and turning into a horse.

The Happy Rescue

Surya felt sad and worried. He and Vishwakarma searched everywhere. Finally, they found Sangya in the forest, galloping as a mare.

Surya called out gently, "Sangya, my dear, please come back. I promise I will be better. I will tone down my heat just for you."

Vishwakarma used his magic to help Sangya return to her human form. She looked at Surya with teary eyes. "I missed you," she whispered.

Surya smiled warmly. "From now on, my heat will be gentle. I will shine bright but not burn you."

Sangya felt so happy. But then she remembered Chhaya. She begged, "Please don't be angry with my twin. She only did what I asked. Can she please stay with us?"

Surya agreed. He forgave Chhaya, and the whole family was reunited. They hugged, laughed, and promised to never separate again. And from that day on, everyone lived together in peace—warm, bright, and full of love!

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**The end!** 🌞🐴❤️