Mystery Books

Bone-chilling, spine tingling

Quivering with apprehension

Words entwined with mystery

Expressing unfathomable tension.

 

That feeling when you open

A new mystery book to read

Is it crime? Is it horror?

Worth giving any heed?

 

Gingerly open the volume

Skip the prologue (don’t we all!)

Dive into the literary goodness

Into the story our mind does crawl.

 

The crime hasn’t even occurred

But your head’s buzzing with guesses

When will the culprit be announced?

Who’ll be the one who confesses?

 

As the story goes your heart

Stops when the spooks begin

The way author writes it

Makes you witness the scene within.

 

With crazy happenings popping

Clues and hints dropped to examine

All the characters, crimes and mysteries

Into your excited brain you start cramming.

 

When the books starts to end

You reading in frozen concentration

Does the mystery be solved

Led by the story’s intuition.

 

It’s that strange tingling feeling

When the mind registers the brilliance

Of how the plot has been unfolded

Making teeth grinded by millions.

 

These clandestine secret tales

So chilling, you end with a shudder

But as your soul yearns for more

You can’t wait to dive into another.

Advertisement

Are We Really So Different?

Last month, there was an open submission of poetry from middle school students, on the topic ‘Are We Really So Different?” referring to the British Rule, aka the differences between us, as Indians and them as Britishers. This is what I submitted-the main message being celebrating our differences, respecting our history and surging ahead hand in hand. I hope you like my take on the topic! 🙂

Are we really so different?

This you may just wonder

Between the British and the Indians

Are there variances we fall under?

 

There used to be a time

Which not many of us have forgotten

When we were taken over by the British

And treatment of slavery we had gotten.

 

200 years we suffered and ached

With the thirst of freedom and liberty

Grabbed at our weaknesses with pride

‘Divide and rule’ brought them into victory.

 

They took advantage of the malice

Present in kingdom battle and meelee

But what they did bought far more agony-

67 years have passed since then today.

 

With hearts burning of patriotism

Our ancestors gifted us this nation

They fought to death with devotion

Yet, the youth doesn’t have appreciation.

 

Today, we have forgotten who we were

Clouded with Western, English influence

This revulsion is what we call ‘modern’

We must guard our culture with prudence.

 

Are we really so different?

Well I’m afraid not anymore!

If we can step back into our ethos

There’s still hope for igniting our core.

 

Being different is not a crime!

The differences make us so unique!

India is the land of colour and culture

About this we needn’t be discreet!

 

What are the characters of our country?

Excelling in art, music, science and literature

Aura of security, colour, joy and goodness

Don’t transform brilliance into a caricature.

 

We are known for our unity

We are the bigger people of the world

We unite the continents together

With Hindustan, happiness is swirled!

 

Are we really so different?

So the question you have set

Yes and no is the answer

How do I explain- it’s kismet.

 

No- we are not so dissimilar

We all are humans after all

Our origin doesn’t define character

Culture does not define one’s gall.

 

 

We all are at the top

We all have skill to exceed

English and Indian can hold hands

And together we can succeed-

 

History is history indeed-

Neither country should bring it back.

We aren’t different- God has given

Us equal form with equal knack.

 

Are we really so different?

You know what? We are indeed!

Why shy away from our uniqueness?

It is what makes us exceed.

 

Embrace your beautiful individuality

Remember how we went through adversity

We are beautiful- we are different-

We believe in unity in diversity!

 

I’m Back! An apology poem-

I apologise quite dearly for

The inconvenience I’ve caused.

Well to be honest it’s not much

But a lot of precious time lost.

 

It’s been about a month (or two)

Since I’ve neglected my blog

But halt! I do have an excuse

I’ve been working quite a slog.

 

Now you may be sceptical

And wonder suspiciously how

A twelve year old is kept so busy

To that I shall give the answer now.

 

Exams! Yes, those deadly things

Which upon my brain were hacking

Wish I had the acumen to balance both

But for me, common sense is lacking.

 

But now that I’ve been released!

From this shackled vortex of toil

No more swotting up (for now)

My head in lesser of a coil.

 

My heart and soul is back

Devoted back to my little site!

Stay tuned for more poetry

(unless I forget- which I might.) 😛

Mother Nature

When I wake up in the morning bright

I push out all wordly thoughts from my mind

I first close my eyelids shut once more

To hear the birds outside chime.

I illuminate myself with warm sunlight

I breathe the fresh and springy air

Hear the chirrup from the lush greenery

Dew on every glass blade, clouds fluffed and fair.

I remember all my memories with nature

Be it the rippling of waves beneath my feet

Or the gravelly, shelled soil of the beach

Or the scent of pine down the street.

I then think of how pollution destroyed

These pleasures, and weakened Mother Earth

She filled our lives with grace and beauty

And to our dullness, added mirth.

#schoolearthpoems

These pleasures, and weakened Mother Earth

She filled our lives with grace and beauty

And to our dullness, added mirth.

#schoolearthpoems

THE WIND

When it’s evening, night or day

I can see some of the branches sway

From side to side like a swing

The bird with the lightest wing.

Gentle, gentle comes the wind!

Some time when the clouds do weep

When lightning bolts flash to peep

The wind roars so strong and fierce

Whilst the clouds release the tears.

Harsh, harsh comes the wind!

On days so chirpy and so bright

The world a beacon of shining light

Flowing through the green blowing trees

The wind through the corner flees.

Calm, calm comes the wind!

When the rain drizzles- drop drop drop

I wish the peaceful wind wont stop

Running breeze through my hair

The sky a clear and windy lair.

Pretty, pretty comes the wind!

Sometimes when the summer scorches

The sun blazes like fifty torches

Just heat, heat and no breeze

The burning Earth doesn’t cease.

Oh no- Here goes the wind…..

. Hope you liked this, 🙂 BEAUTIFUL WIND

ME LEARD

There was once upon a time
A man called Mr Leard,
Reaching down his black belt
Was a long and silky beard.

 

The beard usually measured
Two and half feet worth of hair
Others thought him quite majestic
All who saw him used to stare.

 

“How daring for old Leard
To sport those long, bushy locks!”
Everybody exclaimed these words
They though him fiercer than the rocks.

 

One day, there was a meet-up
Organised by the hairy soul
People came, a little trembly,
They were afraid he might growl.

 

Mr Leard looked through his eyes
Upon the frightened audience of his city
And suddenly broke into a large smile
That was sort of laughing and witty.

 

Everyone stared at him.
They were ever so surprised!
That grand person could really grin?
To listen to him they obliged.

 

“People of my city, I had better begin.
I have called you upon my humble request
I maybe looking fierce by I truly
love you all, oh souls dearest.

 

So I just beg all you unbearded folk
To see beyond the pounds of hair
For underneath I am a nice person
For you all I really truly care!”

 

All the onlookers who were present
Agreed and then for evermore
Loved Mr Leard’s honesty and niceness
They liked him deeply to the core.

 

‘Don’t judge a book by its cover’
Is the moral of this silly little rhyme
Or perhaps, a little bit more fitting,
Don’t judge a man by his beard in your lifetime.

 

 

Indian classical Dances

Hello all! We have another school presentation coming up (it’s an assembly) and the topic is Indian Classical Dances. So, I have written a little poem on it. I hope that you will know more about this beautiful art after reading this than you did before. Here goes…

Indian classical Dances

 

India, such a diverse land
And so vibrant and great
And one clear example is
A dance from each Indian state
You know,Kathak comes from
The parts of Northern India
And from Manipur comes
Manipuri and Thang Ta.
From the state of Kerala
Comes the dance kathakali
Bharatnatyam from Tamil Nadu
And from Odisha, Odissi.
West Bengal’s Chhau Dance
And Gujarat’s lovely Garba
Such a lot of skilful arts
From the culture of India.
We to these dances should
Show respect and care
Now, citizens of India
Of dances we are aware.

The Struggling Vines

Hello! I wrote this poem yesterday. I hope you like it! I tried to make a drawing to help explain the poem a bit, and I know it isn’t too good, but still, here it is. So here goes my poem:

I was playing cricket
When suddenly the ball smashed
Against my neighbour’s window
But I didn’t want to get bashed!

So gingerly I climbed
Over the garden fence
To retrieve my cricket ball
But some danger did I sense.

The flowers weren’t smiling
The leaves didn’t tingle.
No hint of sound was their
Not even a single.

Suddenly the green v ines
Which crept up the creepy wall
Suddenly started growing
Longer and further tall.

THE JADE TENRILS SLASHED OUT
UPON MY BODY AND I SCREAMED!
But what difference did it make?
The vines just evilly gleamed.

The green ropes of leaves
Just clutched around my face
And alas! I defied my wish
And died in scary disgrace.

As I choked, the vines
Splattered liquid on me
And some consciousness
Did I begin to see!

The I opened my sight
And saw Mamma’s carring eyes
Telling me to wake up
From the nightmarish lies.

I hugged her tight happily
“Oh mom, you do not know
How glad I am to have you!”
And my tears began to flow.
——————————————————————————————————————

New Books

Hello! Sorry for posting late today. But here goes a little poem on new books, and how awesome it feels to buy them:

NEW BOOKS

“Papa, papa, let me buy
The books there in the shop!”
Exasperated, Papa replied
“All right, I know you can’t stop.”

“KA-CHING!” Says the machine
And two minutes after that
A lovely book is in my hand
Sitting brightly whitely fat.

Once I get home I don’t
Bother to change my clothes
But jump on to my bed
Opening the book closed.

Sniff! I smell the pages
The fragrance of lovely books
“Read me!” The book cries to me
With a booky-booky look.

As I start reading, oh the joy!
The words splashing on my mind
Like waves against a sandy beach.
Words to book are destined.

I forget my dinner and my lunch
I forget everything that I once knew
For my eyes to the long pages
Are stuck to them like glue.

The book may not have pictures
But I see them in my brain
Me going down in the author’s
Worded memory lane.

Lost in a world of dream
The words wrap like a vine!
Upon the jewelled sentences
I feed upon and dine.

And when the clock ticks
And I reach the very end
It’s like the Gods of the world
Blessings to me did send.

That’s it! I hoped you liked it. I wrote another poem which I will post tomorrow. Byeee!
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The Quilled Ones

Hey friends! I was in a crafty mood again today, and so I tried out 3D quilling! For those of you who don’t know, quilling is the art of wrapping strips of paper in coils to form an image or a figure. Here is my first (and poor) shot at quilling:

I wrote a poem on them too! Check it out…

Made of coloured paper
Twirled round and round,
Once shaped together,
With glue we are bound.

Different strips of many hues
Modeled into one,
Making us, the Quilled,
Is really a lot of fun.

Taking some sheets and
Trimming them down
Sticking them together
For making a gown.

Take the little needle
And insert the point
Make swirl and swirl
Then tape up the joint.

Take your little finger
And push the middle high
Shaping it into a dome
Is easy to try.

Make our faces
And make our clothes
Make sure they are perfect
Then stick ‘em close.

We thank you, o human
For making us
For being our Creator
Without fear or fuss.

I even made a video of them singing it. And before you comment on how hideous my voice sounds, I’ll let you know that I DID NOT use my real voice, for I wanted it to suit the quilled models!! 😀 Hope you like it:

https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-5VaIig5drjc/U4s07dV38VI/AAAAAAAABeU/wldAdlV62bY/w346-h194/Jhil+quil.3gp