Shishukunj

And A New Story Began…

Vasudha Gupta, Class X D

With a flowery face

And cheeks ablaze

Looked on by all sires

She set the stage on fire.

With ribbon in hand

The bridesmaids all

Made sure the beauty

Never did fall.

Dressed all in white

Her tiara quite right

To the stage so grand

She was escorted by her dad.

In satin and studded pearls

She, more elegant than most girls

Disarming was her smile

For she was the royal bride.

And so at the final step

The old man handed her pet

To the charming young man

And a new story began.

The Stone That Remains Unturned

Asmi Chelawat, Class X A

Amongst the trees that rose so high,

Among the animals that are so wild,

A flowery bush that stands a bit low,

With the beauty that is ready to be explored.

‘Does beauty have some requirement,

Or does it lie beneath oneself,

Willing to be explored and to be felt?’

Thinks the bush to itself.

It does not know what comes ahead,

It waits to see what happens next,

To see if it dies out of pain,

Or if its beauty gets some words of fame.

It wishes that it gets a name,

Poets who are willing to frame,

Poems on its beauty and grace,

Time, oh it wants to rush its pace.

This is what the bush feels,

Some leaves so green and others uncurled,

Out of all rocks that were so huge,

This is the stone that remains unturned.

Who Am I?

Arushi Jain, Class X A

I am the letters of the beautiful words that compose me,

I am found in the souls of the talented singers.

My sole job is to reach the people

And make them calm

And relaxed.

I am, I’ll be and I’ll remain

As my feel remains in the heart of the people

And my words echo in their mind.

By now, you must have understood

That I am a song.

The Hideous Nightmare

Simran Dewani, Class X F

It was just a hideous nightmare,

And yet, I was left in despair.

A dream haunted by a deadly ghost,

Which scared me the most.

Marking time to sleep in the dark,

Ignoring those whining dogs bark.

Then outside it started to rain,

Those noises which made me insane.

My dream was full of dead meat,

Which me skip a heartbeat.

While noises of trees and storms were terrifying me,

‘End the dream! End the dream!’ I kept crying.

Imagining in garments, black as pitch,

The wild and wicked witch.

And finally, I covered myself in my bed,

With a pillow on my head.

If I Were Rain

Rishita Neema, Class VIII A

If I would be a part of the cloud,

I would be mighty and proud.

Stand above all,

Without any hurdles or wall.

But I’d definitely miss,

My allies and the snake’s hiss.

Even the thoughts of ruling seem sour,

Without companions, what a bore!

And when the cloud burst,

It was the end of my thirst,

That moment, that bliss,

When I could come rumbling, tumbling for Mother Earth to kiss.

But when from my dream destination, yards away I flew,

I saw a sight – strange and new,

People running away from me,

Shielding themselves under an umbrella or a tree.

Children sailing paper boats – fun that would’ve been,

That was the scene when,

We were friends, they and me,

Those children are now drinking tea.

But it seems that some of my companions could not forget me so soon,

So they let me trickle down their cheeks,

Some sacred, consoling joy, they have not known,

For a hundred days and million weeks.

I Am A River

Riddhi Singhania, Class X D

I am a river

Ready to explore

The fields and valleys

And lots more.

I am a river

Strong enough

To be able to cut through

Rocks so tough.

I am a river

Eternal forever

No matter what obstructs me

I won’t give up, no, never.

Andrew took a large gasp of breath. He was quick for a man of 6’2’’. Even his six year old son Noah was fast enough to catch up with him. ‘I know a cave around here where they won’t be able to find us,’ said the little boy, ‘I used to come here with my friends.’ He led them there.

It was a disturbingly creepy place but owing to how tired they were, they instantly fell into a trance of sleep. This day had been too much for Noah to assimilate. His mother had been cooking his favourite lasagna when two burly ‘tromokrates’ or terrorists in Greek, had barged into the house and asked for his dad.

Noah knew about his father’s controversial speech at the district elections the other day. He had quickly called his parents and they had used the trap door in the kitchen to escape. In his heart Noah had said a silent goodbye to Abdera.