Curly Locks and the Three Monkeys

Synopsis:

In this twist on a classic tale, "Curlylocks and the Three Monkeys" follows a spirited little girl named Chandra, affectionately known as Curly for her bouncing curls. While spending a summer at her Ammamma's house, Curly adventures through a lush garden, yearning for companionship. One day, she spots a playful monkey swinging through the trees and follows him to a cozy treehouse. Inside, Curly encounters a charming family of monkeys—a papa, a mama, and their little one—each engaged in their own activities. Curiosity piqued, she samples their delicious fruit, sips their tea, and tries out their rocking chairs and hammocks. Unfortunately, her playful exploration leads to a bit of chaos. When the monkey family returns, they discover that their snacks have been eaten, their chairs are disturbed, and their hammocks are all out of place! As the monkeys confront her, Curly realizes her mistake and sincerely apologizes for not asking before tasting their treasures. With a newfound understanding of sharing and friendship, she offers to gather fresh fruit for the monkeys. This enchanting story of adventure, mischief, and heartfelt lessons emphasizes the value of consideration and the joy of making new friends. Join Curly on her journey of discovery, as she learns that sometimes the best treasures are those shared with others.

Curlylocks and the Three Monkeys

Once upon a time, there lived a little girl with thick, curly black hair that bounced and bobbed like shiny black springs when she hopped, skipped, and jumped, which she liked to do a lot. So though her real name was Chandra, everyone called her Curlylocks or Curly for short. .

One summer, Curly stayed at her Ammamma’s house and played by herself in the garden. Tall coconut palms swayed in the breeze. Banana leaves stretched wide and green. Mangoes dangled high above her head, and bright flowers peeked out from every corner.

Curly loved exploring, pretending the trees were jungles, and the bushes held monsters - but she longed for someone to explore with her. Butterflies fluttered around her, and birds sang out. But when she called out to them, they did not answer. She felt a tiny ache in her heart, which grew each day.

There was no one to talk to.

No one saw the beauty of the garden.

No one climbed trees with her.

No one sampled the fruit.

One warm afternoon, Curly noticed something moving in the trees.

A little monkey!

He swung from branch to branch, chattering happily, until—whoosh! —he disappeared into the thick leaves of the ancient banyan tree.

Curly leaned forward, her heart thumping.
Where did he go?

Before she could stop herself, she followed.

Curly scrambled up the banyan tree and found a cozy little tree house. Inside, she glimpsed a tall monkey with a serious face, sitting in a chair and reading a newspaper. He must be the papa, she thought.

Nearby, a gentle‑looking monkey combed her hair. She must be the mama.

The little monkey played with toys, singing to himself.

Curly longed to join them, but she felt shy.

After a while, the monkeys climbed down and left. Curly hesitated for a moment. Then, letting her curiosity lead her, she stepped inside the treehouse.

Inside was a table set for three—banana leaves filled with fresh fruit, and three coconut cups brimming with steaming chai.
Curly’s tummy rumbled.

She picked up a sita fruit from the first banana leaf and bit into the soft custard—but forgot to break apart the bitter rind.

“Yuck!” She spat.

Looking at the second banana leaf, she recognized a sapota fruit. She peeled its thin, papery skin before sampling the greenish-brown fruit. SQUISH!

“Too ripe!” She said, licking her lips as juice dripped down her chin.

Still hungry, a yellow banana from the little banana leaf caught her eye. She peeled it and took a bite.

“Just right,” she smiled, and took another bite and then another until it was all gone.

Thirsty, she took a sip from the first cup of chai.

“Too spicy!” she spluttered, spewing out the hot tea.

Sipping from the second cup, she grimaced.

“Too sweet!” she said, plonking it down with a splash.

She sipped from the third cup.

“Just right,” she sighed and drank it all up.

Curly wandered around the tree house and found three wicker rocking chairs. She climbed onto the first chair.

“Ouch! Too hard!” She pushed it aside.

She clambered onto the second chair and sank into the fluffy cushions.
“Too soft!” she cried as the cushions tumbled down.

She tried the third chair.

Just right!

She rocked… and rocked…
CRACK!

Picking herself up from the broken chair, she looked around her. The tree house did look a little messy. Should I clean up? She wondered, yawning. I’m so tired. I can always clean up after a nap.

Poking around, she spotted three hammocks and tried them one by one.
She tried the first hammock. Too high! It flipped over as she climbed out.

She tried the second hammock. Too low! It curled up tight.

She tried the little hammock.

Just right. Curly sighed, and she fell asleep.

Soon, the three monkeys returned. They stopped at the table.

“Someone’s been eating my sita fruit,” growled Papa.

“Someone’s been eating my sapota fruit, too,” whispered Mama.

“Someone took my banana, and they ate it all up!” cried the little monkey.

They looked at their coconut teacups.

“Someone’s been drinking my tea!” announced Papa, peering at his half-empty cup.

“Someone’s been drinking my tea, too!” sighed Mama, picking up her drippy cup.

“Someone’s been drinking my tea, and it’s all gone!” cried the little monkey, turning his cup upside down.

They went to sit down.

“Someone’s been sitting in my chair!” shouted Papa, straightening his chair.

“Someone’s been sitting in my chair!” moaned Mama, picking up her cushions.

“Someone’s been sitting in my chair,” cried the little monkey, “and they broke it!”

They slumped slowly to their hammocks.

“Someone’s been sleeping in my hammock!” rumbled Papa.

“Someone’s been sleeping in my hammock, too!” wailed Mama.

“Someone’s been sleeping in my hammock, and they are still sleeping in it!” whispered the little monkey.

Curled up in the smallest hammock was Curly—fast asleep, snoring.

She woke to three furry faces staring at her.

“Hello,” she stammered. “I’m Curly.”

Papa Monkey crossed his arms, his brows raised hgh. “Did you eat all our fruit?”

“Yes,” Curly said softly. “I’m sorry. I should have asked. I’ll fetch you some more.

And she did.

“I really miss my tea,” Mama Monkey said sadly looking at her messy cup.

“I’ll make a new tea,” Curly promised.
“One cup spicy!” said Papa.
“One cup sweet!” said Mama.
“And one cup just right!” chirped the little monkey.

And she did.

She not only made fresh cups of tea but hastened to clean up the mess she had left earlier.

The Tree house was soon restored to normal, and Papa and Mama were sipping their tea with smiles, but the little monkey had nowhere to sit.

“I’ll fix it,” Curly said.

And she did.

Soon, he rocked too and giggled, sipping his tea.

“Won’t you join us?” said Mama.

“Yes! Please do!” The little Monkey said, clapping his hands.

“I’ll get you a chair,” said Papa.

And he did.

“I’m sorry for coming in uninvited,” Curly said as she sipped her own tea. “I was lonely, and your home felt so welcoming.”

Mama Monkey hugged her. “We know you meant no harm.”

“You can play with me anytime!” chittered the little monkey.

Papa nodded and smiled.

From that day on, Curly visited the tree house for tea every day. There was always an extra banana and a cup of chai waiting for her. She even had her own chair and her own hammock.

Curly and the little monkey, whose name was Kutti (Little One) played for hours.

And they all lived happily ever after.

The End.