November 10, 2009

Me & the Mirror

By Mrigashree Pant
BA (Hons) in Miranda House, Delhi)....
It’s the most unbiased I think; when I stand five feet some inches tall in front of my mirror. A bushy black mane, a few inches of forehead, two chequered holes on either side of a flat-compressed nose, lips somewhat in shape and a protruded chin - I scan myself. It is this sheet of truth that introduces me to myself. How would I know myself, identify what I looked like had I not met myself through this silver screen. Observing myself in the age old mirror in my room, I fall back to the days of yore. Those dust coated lipstick marks on the wooden frame of the mirror take me back to the age of three when I had inscribed my first ABCs with mom’s lipstick on the mirror and its frame. It still wears the ripped stickers of my then cartoon friends, all yellowed with time. It still captures my anger in the form of scribble marks after I had the first quarrel with my parents as a teenager, it knows about those fits of self admiration when I would pose as a model...Mom’s high heels complimenting my feet...they would raise me up to a woman’s stature. It holds fast to the panic of the first pimple on my forehead and it also nets the moment of that juvenile maturity when I saw myself draped in a sari for the first time on the day of my farewell, the day I adored myself as a woman for the first time. I kept moving on with the wheel of time, but my mirror stood still all through the years, telling me the truth each time I approached it. Personalities change, people come, perform their respective roles in the play of life and fade away...but the mirror remains unchanged, unbiased...telling them all the true tales of their lives. My mirror is that unidentified friend in front of whom I stand still, gazing at it for hours when in distress, and it understands my entire tale without me letting out a word to it. It captures every moment of mine when I have questions about my identity. Ask my mirror...it knows much more about me than my memory holds. My tongue might slip a truth...but my mirror will always say what I really am.At times, I sit and wonder if humans have ever tried to adopt the attributes of a mirror.....then either the world would have become Utopia or a gruesome murdering ground where the 'play of truth' decides the fate of life. (The writer is a student of BA (Hons) in Miranda House, Delhi)mrigashree@gmail.com

I want to get back…

By Ashita Aggarwal,
(XI), Commerce,
The Asian School
I want to get back,
To my home where
Spring comes in full bloom
Where the country roads
Open their arms and welcome me
Where there is innocence
No personal grudges
But love, only love
Love for humanity
Love for life
Love for everything
That is needed to live life
Please God, listen to me
For only this once
I want to get back
To my home where
I am carefree and
Like being me….

Mistake

By Tanya Dobriyal,

(VII-A)Rajiv Gandhi Navodaya Vidyalaya
If mistake is made by-A Barber- It’s a new style A Driver- It’s an accident A Doctor- It’s an operationAn Engineer- It’s a new ventureA Politician- It’s a new lawA Scientist- It’s a new inventionA Tailor- It’s a new fashionA Teacher- it’s new theoryBut if a student makes a mistake--------It’s a mistake!

Trees Contributed

By Manisha Kothari,

(XI-B)Rajiv Gandhi Navodaya Vidhyalaya

I think that I shall never see A lovely poem as a tree.A tree that looks at God all dayAnd lifts her leafy arms to pray;A tree that may in summer wearA nest of robins in her hair;Upon whose bosom snow has lain Who intimately lives with rain.Poems are made by fools like meBut only God can make a tree.

Vampire-Friendly

By Shweta Kakkar
The book Twilight- the story of which has been described briefly here - has raised several questions in my mind, the least of which is my unexplained obsession with it. It is, by all standards a very average book. The story is the kind that would appeal to a 16- year old silly girl who would read, starry-eyed, about the beautiful vampire and his deep and passionate feelings for what is essentially his meal- a girl. It would appeal to the teenage hormones because it would be the perfect imaginary prince that every girl dreams about- for whom she would be the focus of all life and the universe. Which is why I am disturbed by the fact that the book has found its way into my mind as well- 23 years old; not an encouraging sign for someone trying very hard to grow up and be sensible. This book made me realize that growing up is a lost cause and so I could happily indulge in guilt-free bakwas.Now that the maturing issue has been dealt with, I have thought of a few ups and downs that would accompany my knowing a vampire. The good news first.1. I would be able to actually hit somebody hard with my baseball bat, since vampires are supposed to be very strong. It would enable some use to my beautifully dangerous piece of wood that has been lying around useless since the time I bought it. What fun that would be! “Mr. Vampire, I am feeling disgruntled about nothing in particular. Would you please come over so I can vent my anger by smashing my baseball bat against you?” For an almost zen-like calm!2. It would be so much easier to travel the world- piggy ride all the way! I had recently had to struggle for a couple of months to arrange for finances that I needed to show in order to travel to a foreign land. When I couldn’t I had to deal with the disappointment of not being able to go. Imagine being above all the visa and foreign law hassles. “I feel like visiting Germany for the Oktoberfest this year. Mr. Vampire, would you please give me a piggy-back ride to Munich?” Pack your bag, and be there in record time!3. No need to share your food with a vampire. If, of course he can resist killing you and that could be a concern for you. But overlooking the minor detail, I know who I would take with me when I wanted a no-sharing gluttony experience. At the movies, where friends invariably and much to my irritation must always want a fistful of popcorn from my bucket, a long swig from my pepsi; no, no make that my DIET PEPSI and must always want to taste my precious nachos. With a vampire, all you need to do is rob a blood bank for a few units of blood, put it in a plastic glass with a straw and hand it to the vampire. No desire on either side to taste what the other is having. What a perfect life!4. A vampire friend would give me interesting insight into the life of people all through the ages that an average, 200-year old vampire would have seen. And if by any luck he is even older, he could be able to tell you how Cleopatra was not very pretty or the inside gossip about Napolean’s well-publicized fear of cats. Imagine a world where history is not dull!But there would be the cons as well.1. On the flip-side, there is the obvious and persistent death-threat. A vampire would be lured to your scent at all times and in the given scenario, it would be inadvisable to take a bath so as to not make the scent stronger and therefore your life, shorter. The arrangement suits me fine during the cold, winter months but summers would be a definite problem.2. The danger to my life would be heightened by the fact that I check my blood sugar at least 4 times a day. Prick; blood out; oops! Sorry Mr. Vampire, would you mind putting on the scent-obstructer around your nose and mouth that I have kept for the purpose?Not checking my blood sugar would also mean death, though it would be a slower and a more unpleasant form of it.Evaluating each side, the pros do seem to overshadow the cons. Any vampire out there, reading this post, kindly add me on FB. I will be the one, whose "looking for" detail on the FB info bit would say "vampire friends".

Memorable Incident

By Vinta Pandey,

Him Jyoti School

Life is a journey. We cannot remember each day, but can recall some of the most striking incidents. Such an incident occurred in my life too and proved to be my most memorable one.It was just a normal day in my life. There was nothing to look forward too, nothing to wait for and nothing to be amused by. I felt I was living in a hostile world where no one was a friend. My parents were suffering too and I could do nothing to help. Suddenly I heard people talking about an exam their daughters were going to give. It was to study in a school in Dehradun. My parents and I decided I too should give this exam. Some time passed and I heard I had been selected to study at Him Jyoti, the school opened by the Governor of Uttarakhand. We were overjoyed and full of enthusiasm. I was ready to face any difficulties as I had something to look forward to. I now study in Class IX and am able to do most of my work myself. I really thank Governor Sir for giving me this chance and pray for his long life.

Memorable Incident

By Varsha Mishra & Bharti Mandal,
Him Jyoti School
It was the 16th of July when we met each other and it was one of the luckiest days of our life. We had come to Him Jyoti School for our interview. Both of us got selected. When we joined the school we were so young but all our teachers and wardens gave us so much love and affection that we settled in happily. We became good friends and shared our joys and sorrows. Now we both have grown up and need to concentrate more on our studies.‘A friend is like a ‘pitaara’,In which we store our ‘vichardhara’,When life becomes a ‘khatara’Then only a friend becomes our ‘sahara’.