

Kapil Pandey discovered his passion for storytelling at the age of 30 while narrating a story to his 2-year-old daughter about a monster in the deep dark woods. A children’s writer, poet and drama-in-education practitioner, he strongly believes in the power of drama to create safe and reflective learning spaces. He recently mesmerised the audiences in Kerala with some enthralling tales.
He is the president of the Kutumb Foundation, which works to empower young people from disadvantaged backgrounds and also runs VDIS, which designs wayfinding and user experiences. From bedtime stories with his daughter to reshaping classrooms across India through drama and play, Kapil Pandey speaks about storytelling as a space where imagination meets truth.
How did you discover a passion for storytelling?
I realised something very important — that a story is, in a way, a “beautiful lie,” but within that lie, there is truth. That revelation came when my two-year-old daughter and I began creating many tales together, especially before bedtime. Watching how she navigated those imagined worlds made me understand the power of being inside a story. That was an epiphany for me.
Theatre and performance had always been a part of my life. I had a thirst to be on stage and express. Storytelling allowed me to fulfil this desire.
How can storytelling help children develop skills like empathy, imagination, and critical thinking?
These are “non-negotiables”. They are by-products of truly engaging with stories. When you immerse yourself in a story, you meet people who are unlike you, and yet something about them feels familiar. That moment when you recognise yourself in someone else is where growth happens. You become a little kinder, a little more humble. Stories don’t just teach you; they change you.
How do children respond to stories compared to traditional teaching methods?
My approach is not about creating performances, it is rather about using small moments, a slice of life and expanding them. When children invest themselves in those, they’re not just absorbing information; they’re responding to it, almost like responding to life itself.
In that sense, story-based learning becomes a prototype of life. The interesting thing is that what we call “co-curricular” becomes central, and traditional academics enter from the side. When it works, it’s a beautiful thing.
Kutumb Foundation uses drama and football to engage children in learning. Why this unusual combination?
Drama helps break hierarchies in a classroom. If education is about empowering children, then the teacher must sometimes step back—and drama creates that space. Sports, especially football, teach you something equally important: how to fall and get back up. It humbles you, helps you understand yourself, and tests your limits. When you combine football with drama, children begin to understand their limits, their strengths, and themselves more deeply. Eventually, it is about learning to know yourself better.
Has a listener ever reacted to your story in a way that deeply moved you?
Almost always. For storytelling to truly work, we all have to be “in it” together. I’ve seen children respond by wanting to participate—asking what role they can play, what they can do. In those moments, when people feel safe enough to take risks together, it’s deeply moving. If we can create spaces like that, stories don’t just entertain—they change us.
Do you think stories have the power to change society?
Yes, but for both good and bad. Stories are powerful tools. It’s a bit like Uncle Ben’s advice to Spider-Man: with great power comes great responsibility. Stories can move you in certain directions, not always the right ones. So we must be careful listeners—moved enough to feel, but also aware enough to think and analyse the story critically. If stories make us question ourselves and the world, then they are doing their job.
If your life were a story, what genre would it be? And what would be the title?
It would be folk—something rooted, evolving. And the title? Maybe something simple, even a bit cheesy—“What Am I Doing Here?” Because I’m still figuring it out.