Shishukunj

The Mad Man

Akshat Tiwari, Class X B

Stephen walked fast. It was getting dark. He then realized that he had lost his way. He had no option but to look for a place to spend the night. But there was not a single human in sight. He shivered at the thought of spending the night alone in the jungle.

His thoughts were interrupted by a flicker of light at a distance. He moved closer and saw mad Bhuria. The villagers told scary stories about him and never went near him. Suddenly, it started raining heavily. Stephen, without pausing to think about the consequences of his action, went into mad Bhuria’s hut. He grew terrified as mad Bhuria followed him into the hut.

They stood facing each other. Mad Bhuria smiled at him and said, ‘Don’t be afraid. You can spend the night here with me. You will be safe.’

Bhuria offered Stephen milk and bread which he accepted readily. They spent the night talking and Stephen learnt the tragic story of Bhuria. He understood how the villagers had formed misconceptions about this harmless man.

The next morning, as he walked back towards his village, Stephen thought that it was the villagers who were crazy to think of Bhuria as a mad man because he wore old and tattered clothes.

We live in a world where appearances are the glasses through which others perceive us, he thought as he tried to save his clothes from the mud on the ground.

Knowing Too Much

Riddhi Singhania, Class XI D

Knowing ‘too much’ is never ‘too much’.

Until it’s the stars that you can touch.

The world is full of surprises

And discoveries play peek-a-boo

You are never ‘too knowledgeable’

Even if you’ve read a whole library through.

The world is full of people

Who pester the whole day,

They think they know ‘too much’

But all they do is to say.

Be a good person

Keep rooted to the ground.

‘Cause if you know ‘too much’

Then there is much more for you to learn.

Test of the Best

Amber Raghuwanshi, Class X A

Woody handed over his test paper to his mother, anxiously waiting for her to react. Woody was not a very bright student. Nine out of ten tests he would fail and in the tenth he would fail miserably.

But not this time. He had studied day and night for the test and was confident that he would score decent marks. When he got the sheet in class, he could hardly believe his eyes. He had got full marks! No student in class had ever got full marks in that subject. His teacher called him in front of the class and everybody applauded. But something very strange happened. Woody stopped everyone. When he had looked inside, he had realized that it was not his paper. The roll numbers had got mixed up. His sheet got exchanged with the test sheet of another student. The teacher made the correction, the other student was applauded and his classmates laughed at Woody.

What hurt him more was to see tears in his mother’s eyes. He asked her, “Mom, did I do wrong in telling everyone? Why are you crying?” His mother hugged him and said, “No my son, these are tears of joy and pride. More than the marks, your behaviour has shown that I’ve brought you up well.”

The Test Paper

Nandini Bohra, Class X E

Woody handed over his test paper to his mother, anxiously waiting for her to react. It was a class test of English, in which the students were required to write a story on a topic given to them.

Woody was never great at story writing but this time he had done a tremendous job. He scored a perfect ten-on-ten!

After his mother finished reading his story, she hugged Woody. Woody could see tears rolling down his mother’s cheeks. He consoled her and said, “Don’t cry, mumma. Everything is alright now.” His mother calmed herself and smiled.

What happened was that, the topic for the story Woody had to write was ‘An Accident’. Woody had sat staring at the paper for a long while. He had then mustered up courage to write about when he was just two years old and news had arrived that his father had met with a fatal accident. What had his mother not done to never let him feel the absence of his father!

When Woody’s teacher read the story, she was touched. That day, Woody and his mother did not speak to each other. They were lost in the past somewhere.

Teeth

Riddhi Singhania, Class XI D

Black, yellow or shining white

Teeth of every shape and size.

A toddler with small milk teeth smiles

Which fall off later in the childhood times.

Then grows the strong metal-like teeth

Which adorn a boy or a girl like a friend indeed.

Whether sweet, sour or spicy food

The incisors and molars work with relishing mood.

Keep your teeth safe from the folly of sugar, candies and sweatmeat,

Or else they’ll be false teeth that you’ll greet.

Edge of Life

Pranav Mandlik, Class XI C

Walking on the edge

Made me afraid of falling

But a voice inside me said I need to move on

And leave behind the fear of falling because falling again leads to standing

Standing and falling are a part of life

It is the inner courage that makes one stand again which is only present in a few of us

I think consistently standing also makes our legs pain so there must be some falling so that we can take rest and again stand up.

Falling is due to the situations that occur in life but standing up again is in our hands. We are so busy thinking about what has happened with us in the past and during that thinking process we forget to live our present. Forget the past and future and live the present. Live your present to the fullest so that when you are counting the last few breaths of your life you don’t have anything to regret and have a lot of happy memories to think about.

Gelost

Suhani Salgia, Class IX E

As Mrs. Goldstone strolled along the Parisian river Seine with shopping bags in one hand and her two-year old daughter Lily holding the other hand, she couldn’t help but be enchanted by the line of tiny coffee shops and the hustle and bustle of the streets.

Mr. Goldstone had chosen to stay at the hotel that afternoon with his parents while his wife took the kids out. It was a warm, sunny day, perfect to explore the city with her older son David and daughter Lily, maybe just a tad bit too crowded.

She sat on a bench basking in the sun as David and Lily ran off to buy two scoops each of gelato at a nearby truck. Two minutes later, David frantically came running towards her. Lily was missing!

Mrs. Goldstone quickly grabbed her bags and held onto David’s hand tightly as she tried to make her way through the crowd, screaming Lily’s name and her eyes screening every inch of space.

One hour later, there was still no sign of Lily and David was beginning to get cranky. Not knowing what to do anymore, Mrs. Goldstone decided to return to the hotel. ‘James would definitely know what to do next,’ she thought to herself as they waited for their Uber.

The five minute ride back seemed to be taking forever. She sprinted across the corridors of the hotel and barged into her room.

‘James, Lily is……’

She didn’t need to finish her sentence. There she was – Lily – tucked into the bed making a mess of her gelato!

Value of Hard Work

Soumya Jain, Class XI C

Nations flourish not on slogans but on hard and sustained work. This is true today than at any other time in history. With increasing populations that tend to concentrate more and more in cities, problems have multiplied tenfold and this is specially so in our country.

Further, keeping these vastly increasing population even at a tolerably good standard of living, we need more of technology, science, discipline and team work in every walk of life. This is our necessity, not merely for progress, but for sheer survival.

Developed nations even today work harder than we do while the tendency to work less and demand more are deeply ingrained habits with us. The more you work hard, the more you will fail and yet stronger you will be.
“Don’t wish it were easier, wish you were better.” Jim Rohn (American entrepreneur, author and motivational speaker)

Home

Carla Kohler, Exchange Student from Germany

I would like to talk about something which I only thought of after coming to India. Home.

While in Germany, I dreamt of India. Now, when I’m here, I have never felt so strongly connected to Germany. Strange, isn’t it?

So what is home? A place of origin? A time, like childhood? Friends, family… a language? Or a beautiful protected dream? A wishful picture?

When I arrived here, the smell of home mingled very slowly, from a total stranger to complete acceptance.

Two months later, I think I have found an answer for myself. Home cannot be nailed to people, places, languages or ideologies. It nestles invisibly in our minds. Like a fairy tale, a good idea, or an early memory. And this memory keeps glowing when we step out of our cocoon.

Geographical and temporal.

Our home walks with us.