OFF PUDDLES AND SAILS – HEMA SUBRAMANIAN

The first day of school
The first monsoon showers
New books in new bag
Squishy gum boots

The jump in to the lil puddles
A peek out of the umbrella
A quick turning down the hoodie
Oh and for what joy!!!

The pitter patter
The tiny delightful taps
Of the splattering on the face
Oh the rains the lovely rains

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I…ME..MYSELF – ASMI VAIDYA

I am me myself and I will never listen to anyone else.

Whenever I want, I will climb up the wall,
Even if I will have a great fall👎🏻

Whether I rise or I fall….I will be ready to face it all.

I know I have to change this attitude some day….

And have to keep open my eyes andREAD MORE

NAVNEET KUMAR WRITES…

कभी  गुजरता हूँ  बचपन के उन यादों के सफर पर,
देखता हूँ अपने अाप को  माँ  के आँचल में,
देखता हूँ  खुद को क्रिकेट खेलते  बाबूजी के साथ,
फिर दूर टहल जाता हूँ उन यादों के शहर में,
दादा  के कंधे पर  दुनिया  को देखते  हुए,
दादी के कहानियों से जिन्दगी समझते हुए,
कितनी दूर अा गये हम जिन्दगी केREAD MORE

THEIR STORIES – SPANDAN

It was much later I realized
why is it that some classmates
never used to get scolded,
either for the uniform
or for the homework

It was much later I realized
why some of our lunch boxes
used to be over-stuffed,
and some never had even a box

It was much later I realized
compare to the story thatREAD MORE

EKTA DAWDA WRITES…

Amidst the sullen picture of despair and poverty, these smiles shine so bright.
Deflecting all the pain and suffering in infinity and promising that heaven is a place in earth.
These smiles are so pure and celestial .
Just celebrating the joy and miracle of living in this God created world.
Far above the material smiles we smile each day.READ MORE

MONALISA WRITES…

It smiled the fullest and cried the loudest…
I can clearly see her gleaming with joy,
whenever she saw new people surrounding her…
chirping chirping and chirping.. without taking any break
without any perception of front stage, back stage..
and without being fake,
She laughs at you for being silly
for being unaware of the use of paracetamol,READ MORE

DREAMS OF CHILDHOOD – SUKANYA DUTTA

Give me a pencil.
I want to write,
Whatever be my wish
What is my right.
My thoughts will flow
And I will grow,
Every moment I want to learn
And it will be full of fun.

Give me a box of crayons.
I want to paint,
The sun, trees and the sky
My aim is so high.
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SAYANI BASAK WRITES…

I was told it’s me
And not him,
I said I was a child then
She trusted,
But still she said
It’s me
I told her again I was just seven
She said she knows
But now it’s my duty
To preserve my family name
Thus I fall into the trap of
Happily ever After

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AJITHA SUNDARESAN WRITES…

Looking back through the years
All the way to where the journey began
Was a world bereft of worries and fears,
A world of cheerful abandon and infinite plan.

A spring in your steps and a sparkle in your eyes,
An infectious smile to match, as you marched out to play
Peering in wide wonder at the smallest of things:READ MORE

THE LOWEST RUNG – MANASVI S CHAUHAN

Sunken cheeks, hollow hazel eyes,
sunburnt forehead with a bony pointed chin,
concave stomach, hunger clenching the insides-
all evidences of horror that lies within.
His hair is greasy, his face somewhat blank,
expertly disguising the ripe age of ten;
the only witness of the dreams that sank
are his callused hands that still ache for a pen.

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POOJA PRIYAMVADA WRITES…

31st December
my frozen hands
want to loose
their painful fingertips
long after the party is over
the dishes are done
I make a new year wish.

20th January
The shiny new flyover
is not a road
its curved underbelly
is home
cold, unsafe, no walls
the NGO people
tell us fairy tale

14th February
I sold 100READ MORE