By Suneha Sethi
Young Joe sat painting in the yard,
His brush birthed the boulevard,
And tinted blue the morning sky
And golden rays the clouds belie,
When startling him so, buzzing hard.
In flew a horsefly fat and bold,
And settled upon the five-year old.
Uplifted hands did flail and swat,
His drying paint, alas, did blot-
A smear of indigo and gold.
The desperate fly, a trifle late,
Tried oh-so-hard to get away
From fury of a man disgraced
But may the little one be praised,
The blue speck he soon caught and ate!
By Anoushka Agrawal
When I first met you, I was lost. I was afraid.
You saw that I needed to be found, and so you stayed.
You drowned my face in sweat, inked bruises onto my feet.
You followed me everywhere- to my bedroom, to my school and even onto the street.
You heard me fall, you watched me cry,
You were always my truest friend- you could never lie.
You made me a mess; removed the carefully tied ribbon from my hair,
You watched as my leotard turned from white to chrome yellow, and you did not even care.
Stage, when everyone left, you stood your ground.
You made me dance, you made me beautiful. You taught me how to fly.
You watched me defy gravity. You let me touch the sky.
By Rishika Aggarwal
Locks of night/ held in ribbons green,
this, not another teenage dream.
Lime, not a second angry shade,
in this, a new monster is made.
Oh!- Please pass me the bowl of cream?
How to define a colour? Can we?
If so, a promise of revenge claimed she.
Spiteful fingers tight, she clutching knife to throat,
Love- drunk, she swore a blood-filled oath.
Ah! Black is how I like my tea!
The rest of course, I’m certain you know.
Forgotten ribbons on streets- one thing’s for sure,
To none did they ever look the same.
After all, lime green on a body stained red isn’t exactly tame-
Biscuits? Of course! I’d love some more.
Truth In You
By Shivani Singh
Why do we get attracted towards the fancies of life?
Thinking that they are loyal and wise,
We choose the path of pain
Imagining ourselves in the right domain!
We keep working the same frame.
Why do we forget the truth and the real attraction of life?
Which remains in the village, the field of lime,
The rocking horse on which we played and the muddy rain;
The true path which our mothers taught again and again
And the love and joy on her face when we won the race and game.
We still have time to achieve our goal,
But not at the cost of a lovely soul,
Our parents who stood by us upright
Even when we argue and fight,
As they wanted us to play the “true role”
A Heavenly Bone
By Rusina Kapia
All ears are erect with electrified tension
The war between Chihuahua and Dalmation
Breaks out at half past nine
For the same fight since Karghil time
Over a bone painted white as a heavenly mansion.
The black (v)alley was under curfew
With windows shut and puppies shooed
But the electrified silence
Is shattered by a Chihuahua in defiance,
Lime greent stones smack and pellet guns shoot
Some are limping and some are blind
The dogs of (v)alley have lost their mind
But dogs are upright as a steeple
And much more loyal than people
So the painted bone was shared in hind(sight)