A LOVE SONG BY THE SPRING POOL

In the midst of winter,

By the spring pools,

Where flowers bloom,

And snow melts,

Let me sing to you,

My only known love song

That fills your heart to the core!

SRINIDHI.R

POVERTY

At the end of the slum- street,

By the dustbins and the dirty tent,

Am left to starve,

In the hailstorms

With no food and no light,

And no bed and no clothes

I shiver in the cold

And wait to die

SRINIDHI.R

THE BOX FULL OF FEATHERS

An old man living by the sea,

Sent me a box full of feathers

On my wedding day!

They were so smooth and light,

And so beautiful!

But when the box fell down,

They all flew out

Flying and flying,

Flying and flying,

Till the room was filled with

Those lovely soft things of delight!

SRINIDHI.R

The Wonderful World Of Fairy Tales

On the darkest nights beside the fireplace

When the moon is high and the sky is gray,

We read the fairy tales with joy and delight,

For we ought to finish it by midday!

They are the most delightful reads,

With Cinderella and Snow White!

We let our imagination run wild,

And once again we turn into a lovely child!

We slowly enter the land of fairy tales,

Where peace and love always prevails!

With happiness having no bounds

And we attain the glorious state!

We wake up in a wonderful place

In the heart of fairy tales,

And meet the angel of love and grace

And the light shines upon her beautiful face!

She grants our wishes and bestows happiness

And we return home in a blissful state!

Fairy tales has just united us,

In a magical world,

In a magical place!

SRINIDHI.R

MY PIECE OF WRITING FOR THE MONTH-- FAIRY TALES AND HOW THEY PLAY AN IMPORTANT PART

I love to read fairy tales a lot. They are fantastic stories, full of symbolism and depth and they all convey a special message and are very much entertaining. I especially like Disney fairy tale movies-- Cinderella, Snow White and the Lion-king and the fairy tale picture books like Rapunzel, Puss in boots and Snow-White.

I remember reading a part in ‘Rapunzel’, where the prince asks Rapunzel to let down her golden hair and he climbs up the tower, with the support of her hair. That was a funny bit! I think such stories are told for everyone’s benefits and are also suitable for adults.

Children aren’t being told a lot of stories these days, because of the pressure from their parents to perform well in school. Storytelling is a necessary and a wonderful task that every parent should do everyday. It involves everything you have mentioned in capturing the audience. We also experience emotion and are compelled to take action because of the stories we hear and it is stories which create the condition for change…

SRINIDHI.R

The Wave

I sat down in the hot sand and looked high up the sky. I could see a small girl next to me, with rosy cheeks busy building a sand castle. She was shouting at her mommy, saying that she had almost finished building it. I turned to my other side and watched some teenage girls in bikinis walking to the shore. God! I never get beach sick! In fact I love everything around here—the mangroves, the salt scented air and the pretty women who surf all the time. It doesn’t get much beautiful, except at night—it’s so tranquil then and brings me so much of peace and joy which would mesmerize me

Slowly when I got up and turned to leave, a small wave crashed to the sand and came up to my feet. Then I noticed the little girl crying and turned to see the sand castle, destroyed by the wave. I suddenly felt terrible to see the girl’s plight. She would have worked hard to build it. Then, I saw a small toy store by the beach. I ran and bought the girl, a toy castle and gave it to her saying,” Good girl! Keep this one safe!” The girl’s face brightened up a bit. She smiled and thanked me. I made my way out. I knew that I had begun such a lovely day! God –it’s perfect!

SRINIDHI.R

The Thief

Anil opened the little parcel he had taken from the store. I use ‘taken’ instead of ‘stolen’ because I mean to. His small town had not seen much turbulence but the recent ruling party had encroached on their land for benefits. As a result, protests, police, lathi charges had become common. This was the time when parents asked their children to stay inside from imminent danger. To venture out only when town would be calm again.

For Anil, the world was different, and without parents. He would definitely not miss the violent hours of the day. The lesser privileged had started indulging in looting and destroying shops also. Anil would quietly stand behind the shops and pick up something from here and there. Learning to live on his own his collection of items had grown systematically.

He looked around with sparkling eyes. On his left was a toaster, which was brand new. He had trouble lifting the big square box to his shelter. He did not know why it had a window. But the pictures on it seemed like food. He had many flower vases, crockery, glasses. It would appear to be a shop, his shelter.

Today’s prize was peculiar though. It was small but the wrapping is what caught his eyes. He did not want to open it or spoil the beauty, he just stared at it.

Just then his door blew open.

“You thief you steal from us! That gift you hold now was for my daughter”

“I am not a thief, I am small and I collect from what is already plundered.”

“You maybe small but you are a devil, look at this place, Oh my God even I don’t own a microwave oven”

He slapped him but the boy didn’t shake.

“You don’t have micro because you don’t have the brains to get one. ”

He grew red. “You little rascal I do not steal like you do”

He slapped him again.

The boy sat upright, his hands in tension.

“Even a dozen other people who actually loot the place, do you have the balls to hit them? And I know why you have come here. To take the stuff I took from the market. And all this drama you are doing is to subdue your own conscience. You are more lowly than a thief because you steal from the small and the weak. You don’t even have the guts to steal first hand. You are a parasite”
He returned to his normal colour. He had not expected such a rebuttal from this small kid.
Suddenly a small girl came running. “Papa thanks for the gift”

The man stared shocked. He was accusing the small boy of something which he had not done.


The time had come and the boy had gone
What remained was nothing much
Little fragments of memory
Battered childhood territory