Month: September 2023

You might have read this title and imagined a 6th grader staring at the window, with the occasional liquid pearl-like raindrop falling. It’s safe to say that it’s quite the understatement, as barrels and barrels of water crashed down from the side of my building, splattering against the window, and leaking onto the floor, while an annoyed sixth grader highlighted a page from some printed out summaries, feeling tired, hungry, and cross. That sixth grader was me.
Many kids-correction-all kids would simply love to snuggle into warm, fluffy blankets, on a rainy day, sip hot chocolate that trickled down their throat in cinnamon streams, and bringing with it warm and fuzzy feelings that spread from head to toe, stuff their mouth with endless pakodas, watch television or read a good book, and feel warm, clean, and simply amazing.
ATTENTION TAARINI KASBEKAR, PLEASE REPORT BACK TO PLANET STUDIES!!!!
And…. It all comes crashing down. My highlighter ink, leaking, covering my hand in yellow, seemed to have teamed up with the weather to make me miserable. Half the words on the page have dissolved into fuzzy black streams, (figuratively, not literally) and not even a quarter has penetrated my thick skull. *sighs*. What wouldn’t I rather be doing than sitting here, revising stuff that no one needs to know *exaggeration alert!*. You may be wondering why I’m writing this in present tense, it’s because it’s happening now, as I simultaneously type this, hoping my mother doesn’t catch me.
Why did it seem that even the heavens went out of their way to be mad at us and exact some sort of revenge? Not that I did anything wrong. I think. Does stealing sweets out of the fridge count? Now there’s nothing more to say, unless you want to hear about misprints, dropped pencils and missing pens (I suspect my little brother). Sorry for all this complaining, it’s just that I hope you’ve learnt a lesson from this-NEVER be a sixth grader on a rainy day.

Trees have been man’s best friends,
For hundreds of thousands of years
They have been the source of natural shelter,
And sweet, rejuvenating pears

They provide cool, refreshing shade
Above small country chapels
They provide us with priceless oxygen
And syrup from the tall maple

However, despite various efforts,
And environmentalists’ constant sessions
Mother Earth is suffering from deforestation,
Global warming and its repercussions

Together, let us all make a difference
Without any further delay,
Let us save trees, save earth or else
For their actions, mankind will pay.

There rose something from Pandora’s box,
Something that definitely isn’t available in shops,

That little thing that will wish for everyone’s best,
That little thing that will take care of everything rest.
It will be the guide like an antenna if you’re in a dilemma.
Yes, it is hope, the last thing ever lost,

If you are in a forest, it will be the one to guide you out.
Stuck in a tunnel oh so deep, hope will be the one to conceive like a technique.
Hope will never be antique.

A blend of optimism and willpower helps us fulfill all our desires, a corneal power.
A specific route you develop to meet your goals,
Hope is that pathway that fills your mind, heart, and soul.

Hope itself is not an emotion, something that can be taught.
A wish you have no control over, but isn’t it better than just being distraught?

The more positive the ‘hope’ emotion, the stronger the sense of purpose and meaning,
The lower the levels of depression and a little more devotion.
This will result in less loneliness and more quotients.
Hope is the belief that your future will be better than today,
You’ll be able to make it happen, you will display.

If you lose hope, remember you’re not alone,
Reaching out to loved ones will help you face the unknown.
Hope is that something that rose from Pandora’s box,
Something that definitely isn’t available in shops.

Hope, my strongest weapon;
My accurate guide, my loyal friend;
My support, in the darndest toils.

Hope,
what kept me taut, Kept me sturdy, Kept me strong;
Kept me ALIVE.

My only lamp in the milky night sky;
The only shadow by my side.

With me, at my deepest dilemma;
At the wildest havoc.

My hope is the last thing to ever lose.
It is the dew of my leaves;
Beat of my heart, flame in my fire;
Peace of my soul.

Hope was what had me breathing.
I shall not let the soul of mine whine or cry, nor shall it ever vanish;
When my hope is striving, to come to meaning,
Each faith of mine rejuvenates with light.

My hope was the food, water and shelter in the deserted abyss of this world;
Hope was the one, who never took back its hand through my life.

It is the spirit to my soul;
The ladder through the void to the heaven;
My stairs of faith, from dream to reality.

My hope is the last thing that could ever be lost.
Because it is the other half who lets me attain integrity.