Shishukunj

The Forest

Nandini Shroff, Class X F

It was my summer vacation. I was staying with my grandparents in the village. One day, I woke up very early in the morning, before the sky had lit up and the stars were still there. I don’t really wake up this early but today was special because today I was asked to do so by someone. I walked out of the house towards the forest to the East. The trees looked magical under the soft light of the now brightening sky. It looked serene, as if time had stopped for them. I walked to the lake which sparkled as the water splashed and I sat down under a tree nearby.

I waited for him and looked at my watch to check the time. He wasn’t late by a single second. I watched him as he majestically moved towards me. His eyes as blue as the lake in front of me and sparkling like the fading stars above. He had the brightest white coat with the softest fur I had ever caressed. His horn twisted elegantly over his forehead, adding to his beauty.

He came down and sat next to me without whispering a word. I had met him a few days ago right at this spot and had been shocked into stillness when I saw him and heard him speak not through his mouth but through his mind. I mean, who knew unicorns existed or could actually break through people’s mental shields?

After the initial shock, and a whole lot of strength not to scream and run for the hills, he managed to calm me down. He told me about his life and his origin which I cannot repeat since I swore not to. Why he chose me, you ask? Well, I don’t know and he still refuses to tell me. Today, he listened to my stories and seems to enjoy them. Before I could leave, he told me not to speak of him ever again. It was my last day there after all. Even after so many years, I still remember his last words – ‘You have a life of greatness ahead, don’t let it go in vain.’

The Girl in the Mirror

Anushka Gupta, Class X F

It was my summer vacation. I was staying with my grandparents in the village. One day, I woke up very early in the morning to a noise of something being hit against the wall of my room. I first tried to ignore the sound and go back to my beautiful sleep, but the noise kept getting louder.

Irritated, I huffed and went to the balcony to see what it was all about. It was a windy day and I realized that the sound was caused by an unlatched door that was opening and closing violently due to the wind.

How come I’d never noticed this door before? I thought as I started walking towards it. once I went over, I saw that the door opened to a room which was completely dark. Curiosity consumed me as I went in and switched on the small lamp kept near the entrance.

In the centre of the room was something like a portrait. It was very large and was draped with a thick black cloth. I slightly lifted it to see what it was. It was not a painting. It was a mirror. It was all the more odd because my grandparents, for some strange reason that they never told me, didn’t have a single mirror in the house. Both my grandparents claimed to detest mirrors, which was again very peculiar as they both were blind.

I tugged at the black cloth. It fell to reveal a large mirror with a beautiful copper border with intricate designs. I found myself staring at my reflection. My face was lit up by the faint glow of the lamp.

I stood there for a minute, staring at my reflection. Something about it was so uncanny that I felt a chill run through my spine. Then I realized that the reflection possessed eyes that were a shade darker than mine, and there was a sly smile, almost imperceptible, on its face. I was certain that it was not mine. I definitely wasn’t smiling.

Then, before I could move, the reflection shot out her hand from the mirror and its chilly fingers grabbed my arm and pulled me inside.

‘Well, well, well…. Look who we have here. Aren’t you that old witch’s granddaughter? Hmm… it’s been a while. That woman was one stubborn witch. Now, let me ask you a question, thrice. Do you want to go back?’

I nodded fervently, too afraid to let words spill out of my mouth.

‘Well, for that, you’ll have to give me your eyes. Only then will I set you free. Else, you will be stuck in this mirror forever.’ She smiled as she saw my eyes widen.

‘No, you can’t do that.’ I stammered.

‘I ask you the second time’, she said, ‘give me your eyes.’

No! I shook my head.

‘Okay, last time. Give me your eyes.’

‘You can’t do this to me!’ I screamed, ‘Help!’

She smiled as she slid out of the mirror into the normal world.

‘Have fun, reflection,’ she winked at me and I felt my eye winked too. She dropped the black cloth over the mirror and everything around me went pitch black.

My grandmother’s words echoed in my ears as I felt my tears stream down my face. ‘When freedom is at stake, go blind to get it back.’ I now realized what she meant and continued to weep. Forever….

Run For Your Life

Hardik Pandey, Class X F

It was my summer vacation. I was staying with my grandparents in the village. One day, I woke up very early in the morning. I had no reason for it, I just couldn’t sleep anymore. I decided to drink some water and check if anyone else was up. No one was up yet. Yet, I didn’t feel sleepy and there was nothing I could do about it. Even the sun wasn’t up yet, but I could make out the fading darkness outside. Since there was nothing for me in the house, I went out. It was chilly, the kind of chilly that makes you want to run. So, I ran.

I have never been a religious person, but today, the temple on the windward side of the hill looked surprisingly attractive. So, I ran towards the temple. As I ran, I recalled something that my had had once told me. He had said, ‘Dear, life is like a moving track, where you stand opposite to its movement. So, keep still and you will only go backwards. Walk and you will remain where you are. But run, son, because if you run, only then you will move ahead.’

I was closing up to the temple. I hadn’t realized earlier, but the temple had a cliff beside it. the fall looked quite substantial. I didn’t go inside the temple. I walked to the edge of the cliff and sat down. Here, I could see a lush green valley below me, mountains and hills that looked like the head tip of a spearhead, and then, in between two spearheads, I could see the river. The sun rising in all its glory, just like everyday. The rays lit up the sky in blues and orange and purple.

It all looked wonderful. I was glad that the temple existed. I was glad that the sun kept its promise. But I was most glad that I had run.

A Journey Experience

Aditi Jain, Class X F

A journey always provides us lessons to face the different curves of life. Journey for me is a reminder of how fortunate I am and it also explains to me the value of my family. I still remember the time when I went to Char Dham with my family.

We were happy and excited. We first reached Delhi by flight and from there we hired cars and reached Haridwar by evening. The weather was beautiful but by night it was quite cold and I somehow managed to attend the Maha-arti.

We then went to Yamnotri and Gangotri. Over there, we took a dip in the holy waters and worshipped goddess Yamuna and Ganga. When we reached Kedarnath, it was our good fortune that the strike of the horses had come to an end and we also got a VIP entry which made our worship quite smooth.

While returning from Kedarnath, we heard about the calamity caused due to flash floods that resulted from cloud bursts. We were also stuck, as our route was destroyed due to landslides. I was very scared. My parents held my hands tightly so that I don’t lose my courage.

Finally, moving at snail’s pace, we were back at our hotel and had to stay for two more days. When the weather improved, we decided to resume our journey to Badrinath. But unfortunately, we couldn’t move ahead as the road was destroyed completely.

So, we decided to go to the other part of Badrinath for worship. All this while, we were unable to contact any of our relatives. We were delayed in our journey by 4-5 days. When we finally reached Indore, I was happy to see everyone but at the same time, I felt sad for the people who lost their loved ones. One thing I learned was that when nature destroys everything, it is completely out of our control and we humans are mere puppets. We should value what we have while we have it.

Why Scared of Ghosts?

Riddhi Singhania, Class X D

Why are you so scared of me?

Do I yell or shout at thee?

Do I have long nails or horns?

Or do I scare you by my ugly form?

Writers, I don’t know why they write –

That we scare away people at night.

People, I don’t know why the fear –

When I actually never come near.

But I understand your problem,

And I’ve nothing to boast

Because neither did I know all this,

Until I myself became a ghost!

A New Phone

Sneha Jain, Class X F

The other day I had gone for an evening walk. On the way I noticed an old woman sitting under a tree. She was reading a letter and had a soft smile on her face. Beside her, sat my sister, fiddling with a box.

She noticed my presence and gestured to me to go over there. ‘Sneha,’ she said, handing me the box, ‘Mrs. Sharma’s grandson has sent her a letter, the one she’s reading, and a phone. Could you teach her how to use the phone? I could, but I have an assignment to finish.’

‘You just can’t open it, can you?’

‘Love you,’ she said and darted off, leaving the box in my hand.

I sighed and took a seat beside Mrs. Sharma, said hello to her, and opened the box in a jiffy. It was the latest model with the latest features and the heftiest price tags.

‘Your grandson must earn a lot,’ I said offhandedly, skimming through the instruction manual.

‘No, he is only twelve. My son must have bought it for him. I’m not that old Sneha!’ she said with a laugh. I apologized but she didn’t seem offended.

‘It’s been ages since I last talked to them. Sometimes I wonder if they even remember me,’ she said, sadness glinting in her eyes. ‘They probably think that this phone will solve the problem. Seeing my grandson in front of me, so close that I can touch him and lovingly hug him, is worth more than a million such phones.’

I was rendered speechless. I hadn’t thought of it that way. That day, I learnt that money cannot buy you everything. And what I does is not necessarily what the heart wants. Things bought with money cannot be compared to a loved one’s honest smile.

The Letter

Tanya Thakur, Class X E

The other day I had gone for an evening walk. On the way I noticed an old woman sitting under a tree. She was reading a letter and had a soft smile on her face. I wondered what she was doing with a letter in the era of digital communication. I went closer and noticed that she was Mrs. Pablo, the lady who lives in my colony. Since I knew her, I decided to go and talk to her.

She was delighted to see me and asked me to sit beside her. She had a basket full of pancakes which she offered me. I took one greedily and asked her about the letter. Her eyes lit up as she laughed heartily. She told me that it was a letter written to her by her grandson when he was a little boy.

She further told me that she had lots of such letters, which he used to write when he was in school. Now, he had moved to the States to make a living and had a family there.

She had a good phone but she claimed that it had some problem because her grandson had not been able to contact her for some time.

I offered to help her by checking the phone. I found that it was perfectly fine. Her smile faded as I told this to her.

‘Then why doesn’t he talk to me?’ she mused.

My heart broke into a million little pieces upon hearing this and I was reminded of my own grandmother. The moment I reached home, I booked a ticket to Indore, where my grandmother lived and then called her up.

‘Hello granny! I love you!’ I beamed over the phone.

A Fake Letter

Krutika Bhojwani, Class X E

I was picking up my books when I heard a knock at the door. I went and to my surprise it was our aged neighbor whom we all referred to as ‘grandpa’. I welcomed him and we both sat chatting. After about 15 minutes, he asked me, ‘Dear, could you do me a favour, please?’ I replied with a smile, ‘You need not ask, just tell me and I’ll do it.’

He smiled and then handed me a paper and a pen. He said, ‘You know my wife and I are illiterate, so could you please write something for us on this paper? Write something nice, something that you might say to your mother.’

For an instance I did not understand anything but before I could even ask him, he warned me not to ask anything and so, I wrote a small poem on the paper and gave it to him. He thanked me and left me still wondering what it was all about.

And then the other day, I was out for an evening walk and on the way I noticed on old woman – grandpa’s wife, sitting under a tree. She was reading a letter and had a soft smile on her face. Didn’t grandpa say that they both could not read or write. I went to her and greeted her. She looked at me and tears rolled down her eyes. I asked her what the matter was and why she was crying.

Wiping her tears, she said, ‘My son, who is abroad has sent me this letter and poor me, I cannot even read it. It has been two years since he left and I have been trying to touch the words and feel how he has been.

I smiled and said, ‘Give it me and I’ll read it to you.’

As I took the paper, I realized that it was the same paper that I had written that poem on. I understood everything. I pretended to read out something I felt a mother’s heart wanted to hear.

The Letter from Petushkee

Aditya Tiwari, Class X D

This New Year, I made yet another impossible resolution: To go out every morning to walk in the park. Well, I like to sleep and getting up at 5 AM isn’t exactly the thing I would like to do. But whatever, I had made the resolution and I was going to follow it. so, every morning I rose at 4.45 AM, dragged myself out of bed and got ready for the morning walk. Well, for the first few days, that is. After that, the alarm would go off and I would snooze it for five minutes and when I would finally wake up, it would be past 6 AM.

The morning walk used to keep me fresh the whole day. I actually liked it. so, I decided, if not in the morning, then in the evening. On one such evening, I noticed an old woman sitting under a tree. She had a letter in her hand and she was smiling. I also smiled at her. When she saw me, she gestured to me to sit beside her. As I sat, she started speaking. She told me that the letter she had was from Petushkee. Her son lived there. He used to come to see his mother once every year but for the past two years, there had been no communication from him. The woman had been eagerly awaiting a letter from her son. She was about to hand the letter to me but it slipped from her hand and fell to the ground. I bent down to pick it up. When I looked up, the old woman had disappeared.

I was dumbstruck. What on earth happened! The letter was still in my hand. I noticed that it was still sealed. Nobody had opened it. I took the letter with me and enquired about the woman. I came to know that after her son stopped visiting her, she used to go to the post office every day hoping to get a letter from him. After losing all hopes, one day she was found dead in her house and was buried in the Birla cemetery.

I then went there and kept the letter at her grave. I smiled and went back home. From that day everything seemed to favour me. I got a promotion and my life was better. I had done a good deed! That letter from Petushkee!

The Letter

Gauri Parashar, Class X D

The story begins when I saw my grandmother reading a letter under a tree in our garden. She usually had a big smile on her face but that day there was something unusual. She was smiling but there were also tears in her eyes. I suddenly recalled my father telling me about a letter that grandpa had given to her. This must be that letter.

My grandfather and grandmother married when they were kids. But my grandfather supported grandmother’s education and thus she learnt to read and write. My grandfather’s greatest wish was to join the army to serve the nation. Though my grandmother could not even think of being separated from him for months, but, realizing how important it was for grandpa, she did not object.

Soon, he became an officer in the army and he was immediately called for his first mission. Before leaving, he wrote a beautiful letter addressed to grandma and handed it to her himself saying that his presence will always be with her in the form of that letter.

He never returned from the battlefront. We learnt later that he fought bravely. The lives of grandmother and her children was nearly shattered. It was a slow but steady process moving on. It was today, 35 years ago, that grandpa had left for the mission and I could understand why my grandmother held that letter in her hand.

Author: shish_admin

The Forest

The Girl in the Mirror

Anushka Gupta, Class X F

Run For Your Life

Hardik Pandey, Class X F

A Journey Experience

Aditi Jain, Class X F

Why Scared of Ghosts?

Riddhi Singhania, Class X D

A New Phone

Sneha Jain, Class X F

The Letter

Tanya Thakur, Class X E

A Fake Letter

Krutika Bhojwani, Class X E

The Letter from Petushkee

Aditya Tiwari, Class X D

The Letter

Gauri Parashar, Class X D

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