Shishukunj

Warrior

Anushka Mimani, Class XI G

At five, they called her troubled. Silence was her only virtue;

Imagination her sword tucked carefully beneath an armour of indifference.

At ten, an artist. They mocked. She could create faraway lands,

Conjure them all, from the polka-dotted butterfly to the great grey night sky.

At fifteen, she lacked commitment. And so her white ink-dotted battleground,

Lay unfinished, unspoken as sand flew by.

A decade later, she was honoured with knighthood ‘Lord of Literature’

For that very unfinished art deemed worthy.

But by then, the mighty had fallen.

And that day, as lightning struck, they said it was the moon and the stars

Celebrating a warrior’s homecoming.

She had done the world great service and had finally returned

To her rightful place.

She – The Robust

Ananya Singh, Class XI A

Why? Oh why do you want her to bear all the pain?

Aren’t the problems that God gave her enough for the strain?

Why add to it, when you can’t lessen the burden on that little woman?

Love and care is all she tries to give to every human.

Be it the responsibility of a mother, draped in the cloak of purity,

Or the daughter trying hard to maintain her father’s name and dignity,

The sister that would stand beside even when the odds are hard on you,

Or that dedicated wife, who’d always care, no matter what you do.

She is responsible for completing the tasks that make her

The beautiful body and heart that the Almighty gave her.

She works hard in every field she is assigned to

She is innocent enough to come in people’s lieu.

Is she wrong that she does everything and never complains?

Forget her own, tries to lessen everyone else’s pain.

She is an angel in disguise you’ll never see,

Because you are the demon, who would never let her free.

Why do so? Aren’t you ashamed of the demonic nasty things you do?

Clipping her wings, barring her from places she wants to go?

Isn’t she the one who helps you, cares for you, in every place?

Then why that violence and those bruises on her face?

Those painful marks and scars that you leave on her soul,

God would punish you, that would surely take a toll.

Coz you won’t leave her in peace and silence,

Every now and then your hands would spill violence.

Why can’t you respect her, treat her as a queen?

Just coz her heart is soft, doesn’t mean she is a machine.

Why bar her from the world and the things she can?

Why be so dirty minded and filthy a man?

It’s not her clothes over her body that she drapes,

It’s your filthy imagination that forces rapes.

It’s not the god she preaches or the religion she follows,

You’d still look at her with a mind that is hollow.

That’s what you are used to now, blaming her for everything,

After your sins in between life and death, her character would cling.

You treat her as a toy for your desires,

Viewing her as a property that everyman hires.

It’s you Mr. whose eyes and imagination are at fault,

Put a full stop there, give your brain a halt.

You need to change your point of view about that pretty soul,

Because harming anyone has never been her goal.

All she does is to give and never ask for,

You need to give her medicine at the times she needs cure.

You need to remember that she is a blessing for you,

Coz your mind is a mixture of differential hue.

At least love her, and respect her enough,

Coz even after your attacks she would stay tough.

She can survive without your sympathy that fake,

All those things she gives you she can also take.

Show her she is important to you and she will give you her all

Disrespect her and she will leave you with nothing at all.

Me and My Cake

Hiya Aidasani, Class VIII B

I’d always seen my mother’s cake,

But never tried myself to bake.

When I had to make a cake named truffle,

Then I wrapped myself into a thick duffel.

When I saw things around me,

Just think of what my gestures must have been,

The worst thing I had to care,

Was that it took two days to prepare.

The first day seemed to be a test to me,

In which my sponge crushed like a bee.

I dropped and crushed the butter,

And had a bad experience with the cutter.

The second day brought icing with it,

And a better experience I had a bit,

The ganache sat on the sponge like a rat,

But I managed to get it on a mat.

Finally, the cake was ready,

With the experience which was steady.

I’d always seen my mother’s cake,

But now I’d tried myself to bake.

Maths in Fine Arts

Nirali and Sparsh, Class VII A and C

Maths is everywhere

They all say

In everything of the world

It is present there in some or the other way.

Whatever people say,

I never imagined,

That maths could also be used in branches of fine arts

Like in drawing and dancing.

Whether it be architecture

Or making a sculpture

We even use maths

In drawing a simple vulture.

All music and dance

Our maths skills they enhance

Their connection is clear

From London to France.

One, two, buckle my shoe

This proves that poetry

Is related to fine arts

And maths too.

No words, only actions

Yes it is mime

Maths is used here to measure the distance

And to tackle time.

Drawing and painting

Have maths overflowing

When they are together

They are always glowing.

If fine arts is the body

Then maths is the brain

Because all mathematical formulae

Fine arts contains.

Tanned arms and happy smiles! Twelfth standard students returned with a basket of memories from their four-day tour to camp Junga in Himachal Pradesh. The school collaborated with Youreka Outdoor Learning to craft a program for the students which combined adventure and learning.

The students stayed in tents at the camp, surrounded by pine forest trails in the scenic Shimla valley. They were divided into four groups and engaged in numerous adventure activities. Rappelling down a rock face, stretching and balancing themselves on the rope courses, hiking in the woods with huge rucksacks, navigating their way to the camping site, pitching their own tents, cooking dinner on chulhas….these are just a few of the fun and challenging activities that they did.

This not only gave them new perspectives on their lives, but also a chance to explore new sides of their personalities. Living afar from technology, amidst nature, taught them to look at the splendid world beyond electronic gadgets – it was detoxifying, really. Away from the comforts of their homes, they learnt a minimalistic way of living. It did take them some time to adjust and feel comfortable, but it was a good thing as it helped them discover more about themselves as well as each other.

It was an enriching experience for all, pushing themselves to new limits and out of their comfort zones, and most importantly, learning to be grateful and appreciating what they’ve been blessed with. They returned with refreshed souls, new friendships, and a bunch of hilly chants and stories!

The Story of Life

Vedika Chawla, Class IX E

When people always criticize you,

For everything you do;

When people prove you wrong,

When you try something new.

When all around you,

Is going haywire;

When everyone says that you,

Are a big, big liar.

When nothing seems to be right,

And when no one comes along;

To support you on the path,

Of protest against the wrong.

When everyone neglects you,

And treats you like junk;

When people make you feel,

Like you’re trapped in a trunk.

When you are totally convinced,

That you have failed in life;

When everyone you trusted,

Stabs you with a knife.

That is the time when you,

Have to understand;

That you must let their comments,

Pass as easily as sand.

People will always pull you down,

To make you feel bad;

And they’ll take advantage,

Of the fact that you are sad.

But you are the one,

Who must keep their head up high;

Never show a sign of agony,

Not even let out a sigh!

Once you are the master,

Of your own mind;

True happiness, for yourself,

Only then will you find.

So remember, in your life,

You must always be yourself;

Never be discouraged,

Never believe that you’re just on the shelf!

Green Diwali

Art by Teesha Jain, XII E

A Meadow

Rishita Neema, Class VII A

In a green and lush meadow,

None’s soul shall be pleased but thine.

In the midst of a flowery bed,

A flower with a lesson is fed.

The meadow contains happy and sad flowers

Sharing their secrets in the bower.

The happy ones are graceful and good.

Always smiling as hard as they could.

The sad ones are dull and lone,

They frown and sing in a sad tone.

So are humans happy and sad,

Good, cheerful, dull or bad.

But in life all are essential so,

Why don’t you change to be the happy one?

Your life will become colourful and fair,

There will be surely no need to despair.

(Lizzie)

Science in Everyday Life

Inter-House Board Decoration

What to write?

Sanskriti Khare, Class X A

What to write?

A tremendous fight

In my mind.

An article on science,

Or a story of marines,

Something emotional,

Or should it be devotional?

And what about a puzzle,

Or the political tussle?

Oh God, what a scuffle!

A report on corruption,

Or volcanic eruption?

About Indian cultures,

What say, about vultures?

Oh I wonder,

I should surrender,

But have I composed,

A poem without a title embossed?

Author: shish_admin

Warrior

Anushka Mimani, Class XI G

She – The Robust

Ananya Singh, Class XI A

Me and My Cake

Hiya Aidasani, Class VIII B

Maths in Fine Arts

Nirali and Sparsh, Class VII A and C

Out there in the wild…

Mansi Ranka, Class XII

The Story of Life

Vedika Chawla, Class IX E

Green Diwali

Art by Teesha Jain, XII E

A Meadow

Rishita Neema, Class VII A

Science in Everyday Life

Inter-House Board Decoration

What to write?

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