Shishukunj

The Dark Room

By Tanya Gupta, Class IX B

The wind was blowing violently and the sun was about to set. I was returning to my ancestral house after ten years to live with my father’s brother, uncle Jared and his wife Rebecca.

I saw a large white house with big windows and a well-maintained garden with roses and marigolds. I could glimpse the yellow and orange lights from the windows but one of the windows was dark. I kept staring at that window and felt as if something was staring back at me. As I was busy looking at that window, I felt a pat on my back and I turned and saw a tall lady with brown hair and blue eyes standing in front of me. She was my aunt Rebecca Rochester.

“Welcome Lily! Your uncle and I were waiting for you. Good to see you back.”

She took my suitcase and guided me towards the house. Uncle Jared was standing at the door. He was strong built but a solemn looking man.

“Hello Lily! I hope you will be comfortable living with us.”

“Yes, thank you so much for having me here.”

I followed my aunt through a dark passage. The grey walls were covered with several paintings. I could spot various scenes of birds, flowers and mountains in the paintings. They were so fascinating that I could not stop myself from complimenting, “These paintings are really good. Who made them?”

As soon as she heard this, her smile faded. She replied evasively, “Well! They are very old. Come, this is your room. The supper will be ready within half-an-hour. So, come downstairs by then.” And then she left.

I unpacked my suitcase and dressed for supper. My aunt had prepared my favourite curry which was piquent and delicious. I ate it and got up to return to my room. As I passed the corridor, I came across a wooden door. I could hear sounds as if someone was there in the room. I was about to go inside, when someone caught hold of me. It was my uncle.

“It is too late and I think you should go and sleep.” I obeyed.

The next morning I was woken up by a loud scream. I ran out and could hear uncle Jared shout. I went downstairs. Aunt Rebecca stood still with tears in her eyes. Uncle Jared was trying to comfort her.

“Is anything wrong?” I asked.

“Nothing that you should worry about,” replied uncle Jared, “I think you should go upstairs to your room.”

I obeyed and went back. As I walked through the corridor, I stopped. That wooden door was open. I decided to explore. Inside the room, I felt something unusual. It seemed as if I was not alone there. The entire room was dark as if someone had painted it black. But suddenly, I caught sight of something shiny in the corner of the room. I moved towards it and suddenly felt as if I had stepped on somebody’s feet. I heard a small shriek.

I stumbled back and groped for the switches. When I turned the lights on, I saw a girl standing in front of me. She had deep blue eyes, golden hair and pale white skin. She was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. She looked uncannily like aunt Rebecca. She stood still and smiled. I could see a diamond ring on her right hand.

“Who are you? What are you doing in this dark room?” I asked.

“I am Emily Rochester, Jared and Rebecca Rochester’s daughter.”

I was shocked. “How is that possible? I never knew that they had a daughter.”

“Have patience. I will answer all your questions. But first, let us go downstairs.” As we entered the drawing room, my aunt and uncle were astonished to see us and stood up.

“Why did you come out?” said uncle Jared.

“Why can’t I? How long are you going to keep me in that horrible room just because you don’t want me to come in front of people?”

“We did it for your own safety. Emily, this world is not a safe place. People can harm you. We love you so much, we don’t want to lose you.”

“What is my fault if I am a girl? Have you ever realized how I live there all day in dark, all alone, with no one to speak and to play with? I want to come out. I want to breathe the fresh air, make friends, live my life to the fullest. Please don’t make me a prisoner even if it is for my own safety.”

Uncle Jared and aunt Rebecca realized their mistake. And I was happy that I found my sister.

A girl child in the mother’s womb…

By Nehal Tapadia, Class X D

The fears of an unheard voice.

People say your sons are like your eyes. But if you have one daughter, you are blind in one eye. And if you have two daughters, then you are completely blind!

Well, her 9 months in the safety of her mother’s womb are slowly getting over and she’ll be coming out to meet the world. The world she is afraid of. The world in which she is vulnerable. Unlike the boys.

She doesn’t want to leave her mother’s womb because she is scared that as soon as she comes out, people will send her to her tomb. She’s heard them saying that she is sinful, sinful from the time her mother conceived her.

She has an unspoken fear. Fear of becoming a victim of the brutal people who find her deplorable. She doesn’t want to be part of a society where her honour is at risk and she will be expected to grow up only to become a slave, a doormat.

She is pleading for just one chance. Let her prove that she is no less than a boy. Welcome her into this world. She will not burden her parents. She will make them proud.

The girl child craves for equality. She craves to be as carefree and free-spirited as a baby boy, inside her mother’s womb.

Rocco, My Brave Friend

By Vagmi Shah, Class IX B

It was a fine autumn evening. I left our log cabin for my regular evening stroll to the bridge. The path was littered with leaves of varying shades of orange, red and yellow. As usual, I had my favourite coffee coloured coat on. After walking for about 20 minutes, I arrived at the bridge. The crystal clear water in the stream made eddies as it flowed away. I loitered around for a while before heading back home for tea.

Just then I heard a sound. I whirled around trying to locate the origin of that sound. I noticed a small brown puppy struggling in the middle of the water, trying feebly to swim ashore. Our eyes met for a moment and I could hear it pleading to me to save its life. It took only a fraction of a second for me to make up my mind. Without worrying about the consequences, I dived headlong into the clear blue stream. I swam with strong, steady strokes towards that puppy. I caught it in one arm and swam to the shore.

By the time I reached home, we both were shivering. That water was cold! My sister made us a fire and gave us a hot meal. We discussed what we could do with the puppy. We couldn’t leave that innocent puppy out there to its fate, could we? The puppy also seemed reluctant to leave my side. So, it was decided that we would keep the puppy until we find a suitable owner for it.

A few years have gone by. Rocco, is still with us. He has grown into a big and strong dog. I built a red kennel for him last summer. The same summer in which I had nearly died, had it not been for Rocco.

It was a hot summer afternoon. Who could have believed that a small spark could cause such damage? People say that it was a group of ignorant campers who had started a campfire and forgotten to stamp it out. They left, leaving the embers to feed on dry leaves. Soon a hungry fire spread its red, hot fingers farther into the forest. The flames reached our log cabin within minutes.

I was not feeling well and therefore, was asleep on the couch in my room. I wasn’t aware of the fire outside until I felt suffocated because of the smoke. I panicked as my eyes smarted and I could barely see anything around me. Suddenly, I heard Rocco barking. I could just make out his silhouette coming towards me through the smoke. He led me out of the cabin. I followed him in a daze. Somehow he knew where it was safe. After a few minutes of choking and scrambling through the heat and smoke, we arrived at the outskirts of the forest.

By this time the neighbours had arrived and the fire brigade was already at work. But without Rocco, it would have taken them a long time to reach me. Rocco had saved my life.

बचपन की नादानी

वन्शिनी तोल्पड़ी कक्षा ८ वी G

बचपन में बच्चों द्वारा कई छोटी-छोटी नादानियाँ हो जाती हैं | परन्तु कभी-कभी इनकी शैतानियाँ बहुत भयानक रूप ले लेती हैं | बचपन में हम बहुत नादान होते हैं और इन गलतियों को बिलकुल भी महत्त्व नहीं देते | अगर कोई इन गलतियों के लिए बच्चों को डांटता है या उनको राय देता है की उन गलतियों को दुबारा न दोहराएँ तो बच्चे बुरा मान जाते हैं | वे डांटने या राय देने वाले को मूर्ख भी समझ बैठते हैं |

पढाई के अलावा हमें अपने शौक पर नियमित रूप से ध्यान देना चाहिए | गाना गाना, चित्रकारी करना या फिर अन्य कोई शौक | ये हमारे जीवन में संतुलन और शान्ति लाते है | हम में समझदारी बढती है | हम गलतियाँ कम करते हैं | जीवन में सफल होने के लिए हमें अपनी बचपन की नादानियों को सुधारकर उनसे सीख लेनी चाहिए |

Faith

Artwork by Kanishka Tripathi, XI C

Long Live Benoy!

By Sanjana Bhachawat, Student Editor, Class XI C

Boom! The bullet hit the soldier right in the chest. He twitched in agony and fell immediately on the ground. He was aware of the fact that his hour was near. He shut his eyes and patiently waited for death to approach. He knew that on the other side of the line-of-control, the enemy soldiers would be rejoicing that one of the best sharp shooters from India, Benoy, was on his deathbed. His mind flooded with reminiscences of his life. Bit-by-bit all the important events of his life flashed through his head.

Benoy and his parents had just shifted to Delhi from Meghalaya. Anywhere he went, he noticed people would stare at them. “Why does everyone stare at us?” Benoy would question his mother, but she would change the topic being unsure whether it was the right time to talk about the ways of the world. Benoy was only in grade 4 after all.

“I hope you are ready with your essay on the topic ‘India-My Country’”, the teacher asked the students. Benoy was the first to raise his hand. One seeing this, one of the other boys stood up and said, “Ma’am how can Benoy write an essay on ‘India-My Country’, he is not from India. He has slanting eyes.” The class roared with laughter at the remark. Before the teacher could say anything, Benoy rushed out of the class with tears streaming down his cheek. It was that day that Benoy swore to prove the world that he was as much an Indian as anyone else.

“Father, I want to join the Indian Army,” said the eighteen-years old Benoy. His father was reluctant, “Benoy, you are our only child. Can’t you do something that would keep you close to us?” But Benoy was determined, “Father, this has been my dream since I was a kid. Then, I only wanted to prove that I too am an Indian. Now, it is only a desire to serve and protect my motherland.” His father only smiled.

Benoy was twenty-five now. He had passed out of the NDA with laurels and had excelled in shooting. He had been promoted to Lieutenant this year. He was to leave for home for holidays next week. He would be meeting his parents after more than a year. Trouble at the border had kept him away for a long time.

Benoy’s body was getting cold. He knew he was breathing his last. A smile crossed his face. What would his classmates from school say now? He was proud of himself. He had fought gallantly. He was not afraid of death anymore. He had made the biggest sacrifice for his country. He was going to be a martyr. His parents would be proud of him. His country would be proud of him. “Jai Hind”, were the last words on his lips.

New Year!

By Prakhar Khandelwal, Class VII A

Now is the time

To say goodbye to 2014,

And welcome our guest,

The year 2015.

The new year approaching,

Taking all sadness away,

And also bringing happiness,

For all poor and rich.

Greetings are shared,

With friends and foe,

Or with the ones close to us.

Everyone gathers

To give presents to one another,

And even to take,

The new year resolutions.

The new year will be coming and going,

No matter how it may be,

It’s in our hands to make it a success or failure,

And to make this year better than the earlier.

Me and my Papa

By Vinisha Shrimal, Class XII A

From the day he was awarded the title, till he gets too old,

‘The man of the house’, has a big duty to hold.

The shade of a tree, the warmth of the sun,

The wisdom of knowledge, the river of joy,

The patience of eternity, and the depth of love,

My father gives his child, these many precious things.

When I was a tiny kid, I remember one thing,

You scolded me for my good, and I was angry on you.

You came to me after some time, I was still feeling bad,

You asked me to look into your eyes, I saw how they swelled.

A tear rolled down your face, and I forgot the scolding.

For that day, the little girl realized, his world lies in her.

Even when she was wrong, his eyes were blurred.

I’ve seen the mountain before you, one you have to climb,

There’s a big journey ahead, that you have to fight.

This distance from now is big, that have stones everywhere.

I see you and I know, your health has stared declining

But the load of your family, keeps you doing and not quitting.

I have seen the strength you have within you,

I have felt the love you have for me,

I have witnessed some of the struggles, you had till now,

I can foresee the problems you might have tomorrow.

Still I feel helpless, papa, I can’t tell you to stop. I can’t even tell you to continue.

Why does being a capable person, take so much time?

Why you have to bear the burden, every time?

I’d always complained, you don’t have time for me,

But now I get it, you are arranging a better life for me.

Behind the screen I could see.

I always make a wish, and you make it happen,

I loved you for that reason, and forget when a new wish comes up.

This cycle has been going on, since my childhood,

Why do you keep my wishes above yours? Why aren’t you selfish at all?

You put your family first, as the only wealth you treasure in life,

With gentle care and quiet strength, all self-concerns set asie,

Heroes are a rarity, known for all they give and all they do,

One day I’ll make you proud and say my hero has always been you.

When things go wrong or the road seems missing, when funds are low and debts are high,

You fight it all, and never let it come to me.

You have been perfect in every way, in all you do for me and say.

However, one thing keeps you away from perfection,

Giving me all I wanted, for I could never learn an important lesson – Valuing your money and your hardwork.

You work for so long for a good pay, even when you are sick and tired, you go to work each day.

For me it’s like, I don’t go to school when I’m merely (a little) tired.

Do I keep you unhappy with my stupid deeds? Do I constantly disappoint you?

Every day since I was born, your love has been forever strong,

You’ve always been there for me, and here I promise, I’d always be on your side too.

Slowly I’ve developed a new perspective, of a man I’ve always known,

I’ve learned a lot, and experienced / felt some of his struggles a bit too.

If I’d understood these things in my childhood, I wouldn’t have made stupid demands.

I would have helped you in all that I could and never let you fight everything alone.

Turning to you, papa, I promise I’ll give you that one life where you’ll live for yourself,

And not just for family.

From today, from now, I’m on this mission, this strong ambitious feeling,

Cannot be well versed in poetry.

Still I convey to you this, whatever I do, will be for you.

If you see your happiness in me, I’ll see mine in yours too,

You wish to see me as a well settled person tomorrow,

I’ll further add something to this,

One day I’ll get the settlement, where I can give you,

All that you sacrificed in your life,

Making you cherish the world, you’ll love to see and live,

Away from worries and tension,

To keep your family always in comfort.

I dream of giving you a life, where it will be you,

Where there will be no sacrifices, regarding things you love to do or wish to have.

I will, I will, and I will

Only for you!

With Love From Me To You

By Akshina Bhargava, Class XII A

Sitting amidst the innumerable emotions of the world – hope, despair, love, joy, fear and anxiety, I was at utmost peace. Even the cool breeze in the hospital could not diminish the warmth I felt in my heart. Here, to bless my granddaughter on her 18^thbirthday I had finally found a reason for my existence.

Thoughts of the sorrowful past engulfed me as I sat outside the ICU. The very same ICU where the love of my life, had counted her last breaths years ago. Walking out of the hospital, I had waited for the lights to turn green. Even the screeching and honking of the cars could not help me escape my state of despair till a palm the size of a half grown pea pod had clutched my hand tightly. I could distinctly hear my baby boy whispering, “Will you leave me too?” I had replied in the negative. He had hugged me tightly and with tears streaming down, he had sobbed, “Nor will I papa, nor will I.”

Twenty five years later, the same ICU had witnessed me as a patient of paraplegia. Each day was swallowing a part of me. I was elated when I learnt that I was being discharged. As the nurse got the wheelchair, my son waved her off and picked me in his arms and carried me into the car.

My heart swelled with pride! As the door opened, freedom welcomed me with a shower of raindrops. Oh, how I missed my legs!

Our SUV sped like a racehorse. I felt at ease. Suddenly, we halted in front of the train station. Before I could express my inquisitiveness to my son, he picked me up and dumped me on the lower berth of the nearest waiting train.

I was dumbfounded as realization dawned upon me. He had left…

My heart cried but no words came out. I fumbled, stuttered in utter shock. What had I done to deserve this? It would have been better if my heart had got paralysed instead of my legs.

I was distracted by the squeaky chirp of a little angel, entering the compartment and simultaneously my broken heart, “Can I sit with you?” she asked and planted herself on my lap before I could react. Her constant chattering made me forget all my troubles till a voice intruded, “Ticket please.” Again the tension mounted within me and I broke down.

To my surprise, the father of the young girl, very generously took out his wallet and paid for me. I opened my mouth but I was cut off, “You don’t need to thank me sir, for you are the age of my father, and for me just the same.”

A conversation bloomed. I narrated my heart breaking truth to him, “Why don’t you stay with us?” he interrupted while I was playing peek-a-boo with the angel.

“Pa-rdon me?”

“Yes, you should stay with us. My family would be lucky to have you in.”

“Have me in? Lucky? Why would anybody want a rugged and torn piece of furniture in their house?”

But, where was I to go? I wasn’t even capable of jumping off a building. I was a waste to the world, the unwanted disgraceful pest to my son. I had no choice. I agreed to go to his house.

To my surprise, a wide smile welcomed me as I entered their house, no… our house. It was unbelievable. A decade has gone by. I was respected no less than a father. Loved, more than I deserved.

It was my princess’ birthday, she was turning 18. I couldn’t be happier. My heart was full of love, but my hands empty. For I had nothing to give her. Guilty, I remembered all her birthdays when she used to come to me and I… just lay there, on the bed with nothing to give her.

A couple of days before the big event, she collapsed.

I could hear the resonating siren of the ambulance fading with every breath I took. A cardiac failure, the doctors diagnosed. 72 hours to live. The only chance of survival was a heart transplant.

My thought process was broken by the voice of my son. Realizing it was time for my medicine, he had got a glass of water for me. The air in the waiting room had got warmer. I took the glass of water with my sweaty palms and exchanged it with an envelope.

I could see my son shaking with fear as I popped the pills in my mouth. His tired eyes were swollen with crying. They watched me with care as I blacked out.

My dearest son,

You have not only given me a dignified life, but immense love and joy. There is nothing more I can ask god for.

Today I would like to give you what we all desire the most.

The day I first met my lil angel was the very day I gave my heart to her, but today I show it to her in the truest sense.

God bless you all and bless my princess with a speedy recovery.

With love

From me to you.

वृक्ष की व्यथा

Contributed by आगम डाकोलिया, कक्षा ८ वीं D

पल पल जीवन का सृजन करते,

तीक्ष्ण ग्रीष्म में शीतल छाया धरते,

पत्र पुष्प फल से भरे लरजते,

अनगिन चिड़ियों के कलरव बसते |

हे मानव, फिर क्यों हम ही कटते?

तेरे बच्चे हमारी शाखा पर झूलते,

माई बाबा अपनी थकान मिटाते,

तेरी प्रिया के अरमान सजते,

तेरी सारी खुशियों को हम अपनाते,