If you had walked into Anjali’s room, you probably wouldn’t have guessed it belonged to a twelve-year-old. Wires snaked across her desk. Tiny screwdrivers, old radio parts, and little cardboard boxes full of circuits sat in neatly labeled piles. Her friends had dolls and comic books; Anjali had soldering irons and spare transistors.
Honestly, if a UFO crash-landed in their backyard one day, Anjali would likely fix it before anyone even noticed it was broken.
But of course, nobody expected her to build an accidental time machine.
It all started with the family’s old black-and-white television finally calling it quits. The screen flickered one last time and died with a soft pop. Her parents sighed, already dreading the hassle of replacing it. But Anjali? She saw opportunity.
“Can I keep it?” she asked before the TV had even cooled down.
Her father frowned. “It’s not safe, Anju. You could get hurt.”
“I promise I’ll be careful! You can ask Rajesh Uncle to help me.”
Now, Rajesh Uncle was the family’s unofficial electronics guru. He ran a small repair shop and was, quite possibly, the only adult who fully encouraged Anjali’s obsession with gadgets. After a brief pause — and a few exchanged glances between her parents — permission was granted.
“But only if Rajesh Uncle is supervising. Understood?” her father said.
Anjali couldn’t wait. That weekend, she and Rajesh Uncle carefully unscrewed the back of the old TV. Inside was a fascinating maze of wires, tubes, and strange-looking parts. Rajesh explained each one as they went. Anjali soaked it all in like a sponge.
“If only I could open up a computer next,” she sighed. She was already thinking ahead — way ahead.
Before long, her reputation at school took off. Friends brought her broken calculators, faulty radios, even the occasional alarm clock. She fixed them all, but honestly? It was getting a little repetitive.
One afternoon, she sat at her desk, staring at the big, empty cardboard box their new television had arrived in. And then it hit her.
Why not build something completely new?
That’s how the X500 was born.
Of course, to anyone else, it probably looked like a strange mess of wires taped to cardboard flaps. But to Anjali, it was her greatest invention yet — a homemade machine that did… well, she wasn’t quite sure yet. She’d figure that part out as she went.
When Rajesh Uncle dropped by unexpectedly, he couldn’t help but chuckle at the contraption.
“What is this now?” he asked, peering inside.
“It’s an energizer,” Anjali said proudly. “I just need to test it.”
“Test it? On what? Hopefully not on yourself.”
“A rat would be perfect. Or maybe a mouse. Can you help me catch one?”
Rajesh Uncle laughed. “Your parents would have my head! And why exactly does a rat need energizing?”
“You wouldn’t understand,” she said, slightly offended. “It’s science.”
He just shook his head, still smiling. “Well, good luck, Doctor Anjali.”
And with that, she was back to her mission. She set up a small trap with roasted coconut as bait. For three days, nothing. Either there were no mice around, or they were too smart for her.
But then, one hot afternoon, fate delivered something unexpected: the neighbor’s kitten, stretched out on her windowsill, fast asleep in the sun.
Anjali tiptoed over. “Hey, kitty,” she whispered. The kitten looked up lazily but didn’t move. Before it could change its mind, Anjali scooped it up gently.
“Good kitty,” she whispered, petting its soft fur. The kitten purred, trusting her completely.
Seconds later, the kitten found itself inside the X500, with the cardboard flaps securely latched.
It meowed and scratched, confused and a little annoyed, but Anjali was already flipping the switch. The dynamo whirred to life, wires buzzed faintly, and the box trembled ever so slightly. Then, silence.
Anjali grinned. “It’s working!”
She waited for five long minutes. Then she carefully unlatched the flaps and peeked inside.
Nothing.
The kitten was gone.
At first, she thought maybe it had escaped somehow. She checked every corner, every flap, even lifted the box completely. But there were no holes, no torn edges — just empty space.
“Did I just make the cat disappear?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Her heart raced. She needed to know what had happened. Slowly, she crawled inside the box herself, feeling around cautiously.
“Pussy, pussy,” she called softly, half-hoping the kitten was somehow still there.
That’s when the machine hummed again. The dynamo came to life on its own. The box vibrated under her knees.
“Oh no!” she gasped. “I forgot to turn it off!”
Before she could scramble out, she felt a strange tug — and in a blink, she was gone.
Hours later, her mother entered the room, calling for her.
“Anjali? Lunch is ready!”
She noticed the machine humming quietly. Rolling her eyes, she walked over and flipped the switch off.
“This girl and her experiments,” she muttered. “Always leaving things running. Where has she disappeared to this time?”
The cardboard flaps swayed gently as a breeze came in through the window, as if hiding their little secret.
Without quite meaning to, Anjali had created an accidental time machine. Her simple afternoon project had turned into something far bigger — a real time travel story, complete with mystery, invention, and a whole lot of unanswered questions.
In the end, no one knew that this strange little box sitting in her room was actually an accidental time machine — one of the most unexpected inventions a curious mind could ever stumble into.
As fond of writing a good story as he is of reading one, Pravin is one of the most promising writers at Ameya. He can be contacted at pravinkumar2788@gmail.com.