Listen to Ningombam Prem’s Inspiring Journey

Ningombam Prem and the Food Stall Adventure

The Curious Case of the Missing Samosas

Ningombam Prem’s life in Manipur India was like a plate of spicy samosas—filled with surprises and a whole lot of warmth. But our hero found himself in a pickle, a spicy one at that! His parents’ food stall was facing a peculiar problem. The delicious samosas, the crown jewels of the food stand, started vanishing into thin air. It was like a drama but without a script!

“People are talking, Prem,” said his dad, kneading dough for puris. “They think we’re hiding the good stuff. Like we’re some kind of treasure keepers of the Samosa Kingdom!”

Prem chuckled. “Don’t worry, Dad. I’ll get to the bottom of this!”

The Detective’s Notebook

Armed with a notebook and a pencil, Ningombam Prem became the Sherlock Holmes of his small town in Manipur India. He interviewed everyone—from the old gardener who always ordered three samosas to the young children who looked at the snacks like they were gold.

“Have you seen anyone suspicious?” he’d ask. “Someone with samosa crumbs around their mouth, perhaps?”

No one had any clues. So Prem decided it was time for some good old-fashioned detective work.

The Samosa Surveillance System

Staying up late into the night, Ningombam Prem put his robotic-building brain to another use. Using metal spoons, cardboard, and a small mirror from his mother’s makeup box, he built a surveillance system. If anyone—even a mouse—tried to take a samosa, a bell would ring loud enough to wake up the neighborhood.

“The Samosa Sentinel is ready,” he proudly declared, putting the final touches on his invention.

Ding-dong, the Mystery’s Gone!

The next morning, as the roosters were barely thinking of crowing and the world was still rubbing its sleepy eyes, the bell went off. Ding-dong! Ding-dong! Ding-dong!

“We caught the thief!” Ningombam Prem exclaimed, rushing towards the stall. His parents, in their morning disarray, followed close behind.

And who did they find? Not a thief, but a group of stray dogs, their tails wagging in innocent joy.

“Ah, the mystery is solved,” Prem’s mom sighed in relief. “It was our four-legged friends all along.”

The Heartwarming Conclusion

Ningombam Prem’s dad had an idea. “Why don’t we set aside some unsold samosas for them every day? This way, we feed them and also save food.”

Ningombam Prem beamed. “That’s a win-win for everyone!”

And so, the food stall not only continued to make the best samosas in town but also became a haven for the strays. The little dogs became local celebrities, and some even found forever homes with the customers.

When people asked Ningombam Prem how he solved the mystery, he’d say, “Well, you know what they say—where there’s smoke, there’s fire. And where there are samosas, there are stories!”

And indeed, Ningombam Prem had turned a simple case of missing samosas into an adventure, proving yet again that the young boy had a heart as golden as the samosas his family sold. After all, sometimes the smallest actions can lead to the most beautiful stories.

So, whenever you pass by a food stall in a small town near Imphal, remember, this is no ordinary place. It’s where heroes are made and samosas are saved, thanks to a young lad named Ningombam Prem.

Prem’s Robotic Talent Show

The Jitters Before the Big Day

Days before the talent show, Ningombam Prem could barely contain his excitement. Every day after helping at the food stall, he would rush into his tiny workshop—actually, a corner of his bedroom—and tinker away.

But as the day drew near, the butterflies in his stomach started to do a full-on circus act. What if his creation didn’t work as planned? What if the kids at school didn’t understand the art and science behind making a robot from scratch?

“Imagine all the robot books I could buy if I win,” Prem whispered to himself, trying to focus on the positive. His robot was a homage to Iron Man, complete with a glowing “arc reactor” fashioned out of a flashlight.

The night before the big event, Prem found himself staring at the ceiling, his mind racing like a motorbike on an open road. “What if they laugh? What if Iron-bot, my robot, decides today’s the day to retire?” he wondered.

His dad, noticing his nerves, came to sit beside him. “You know, Prem,” he said gently, “every cloud has a silver lining. If things don’t go well, you’ll still learn something valuable.”

Rehearsal Disaster

The morning of the talent show, Ningombam Prem decided to do one last rehearsal. He turned Iron-bot on, but instead of walking, it toppled over. Prem’s heart sank faster than a stone in water.

Quickly, he examined the robot and found a loose wire. “Ah, so you decided to shake things up, huh?” he murmured, securing the wire back in place. It was a close call, like narrowly avoiding a pothole on a bumpy road.

A Standing Ovation

Finally, the school’s gymnasium was buzzing with excitement. Kids performed dances, sang songs, and showed off magic tricks. It was a carnival of talents. But for Ningombam Prem, it felt like the moment before a space rocket launch. The anticipation was electric.

He walked onto the stage, remote control in hand, and set Iron-bot down carefully. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the button.

At first, Iron-bot wobbled, making Prem’s heart jump into his throat. But then it steadied itself, just like during the rehearsals. It took a few steps forward, its flashlight arc reactor illuminating the dim stage. The audience was silent, eyes wide in awe or maybe disbelief.

And then, for the grand finale, Iron-bot’s hand lifted, shooting a “repulsor beam” of confetti into the audience. The room exploded into cheers and applause.

Ningombam Prem had done it. He got a standing ovation! His teacher handed him the first-place ribbon, and his classmates patted him on the back. Even the school’s tough-as-nails principal had a smile that stretched ear to ear.

Post-Show Celebrations

When Ningombam Prem returned home, his parents had a mini-celebration waiting. There were samosas, puris, and even a little cake that read, “Congratulations, Robot Genius!”

“You’ve made us so proud, Prem,” his mother said, eyes shining.

His dad nodded, “Your hard work paid off, just like we knew it would. Remember, where there’s a will, there’s a way.”

That night, as Prem lay in bed, he clutched his first-place ribbon and thought about all the robot books he could now buy. More importantly, he thought about the smiles he had brought to people’s faces. He fell asleep feeling like the hero he had always wanted to be, proving once again that dreams really do come true, especially for those who dare to dream big.

A Dream Realized

Prem’s Special Visitor

Ningombam Prem was hunched over a jumble of wires and metal bits. He was at that delicious stage of a new project where every piece held unlimited potential. Just as he was about to connect a circuit, footsteps echoed from the driveway.

He poked his head out of his workspace, and his eyes widened in disbelief. Standing before him were the Mayor of Imphal and a bunch of people with cameras and microphones. They were all smiling, the kind of smile you see when someone’s about to unwrap a birthday present.

“We heard about your incredible talents, Ningombam Prem,” the Mayor said, offering a hand for a shake. “We’d like to offer you a scholarship to a summer robotics camp. You’re exactly the kind of young talent our community—and our world—needs.”

Prem felt like he was floating in air, like one of his robots equipped with imaginary jet packs. Words were stuck somewhere between his brain and his mouth, but his eyes said it all—they were sparkling like two tiny arc reactors.

The Gift of Acknowledgment

After the Mayor and the media crew left, Prem found a certificate in his hands. His name was written in beautiful cursive, and next to it were the words: “Scholarship for Exceptional Talent in Robotics.” It was better than any trophy or ribbon. This was acknowledgment, not just for him, but also for every little piece of discarded metal he had ever turned into something magical.

His parents hugged him so tightly he thought he’d turn into a human accordion. “We always knew you had something special,” his mom said.

“Remember, it’s always darkest before the dawn,” his dad added, “And this is your dawn, son.”

Packing and Preparing

Ningombam Prem couldn’t sleep that night. He lay in bed thinking about the camp, the new people he’d meet, the new robots he’d build. His room was a galaxy of thoughts, each star a brilliant idea.

The next morning, Prem’s mom helped him pack. She slipped in a packet of homemade samosas, “For a taste of home,” she said, her eyes shiny like the morning dew. “Whenever you miss us, eat one.”

His dad added a small toolset to the bag. “You never know when you might need to fix something—or build a new friend.”

The Bus Ride to Destiny

As Prem boarded the bus that would take him to the robotics camp, he looked back at his parents, waving and cheering him on like he was heading off to win an Olympic gold medal. The bus trundled off, and as the scenery changed, so did Prem’s thoughts.

He thought about all the new robots he would create. He fantasized about the people he could help—maybe he could build robots that helped the elderly or assisted in disaster recovery. He was a small-town boy with big-city dreams, and now, he had the ticket to make them come true.

The Heartfelt Conclusion

As the bus roared along the open road, Ningombam Prem knew this was just the first chapter of a very long and exciting story. Life had given him lemons, and he didn’t just make lemonade; he had built a lemonade-making robot!

As his town faded into the distance, Prem realized dreams don’t have zip codes. Big or small, a town is just a place, but a dream—that’s a destination. And Ningombam Prem was well on his way.

So, if you’ve got a dream, don’t just chase it—build a rocket and shoot for the stars. Because when you’re as passionate as Ningombam Prem, even the sky isn’t the limit.

Watch a video

Don’t forget to check out Prem building an Ironman hand using cardboard. The video clip is streamed on his Youtube channel “KANGLEI tech”.

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