Why this blog?

The nascent and fresh minds of students are so creatively inclined that they have the ability to bring into being a universe of their own. They are little tyros who would, with time, unfold into verves, momentum or sensations of various creative dimensions. A chalk sculptor, a clay artist, an amateur painter of Madhubani, Warli, a dabbler of still life, a budding poet, a tenderfoot writer or a fledgling lyricist – one gets all varieties of creatively-aligned students covered in a seemingly dilettantish peel. We at Shishukunj aspire to provide a humble platform to all such potentials to smatter around and mature into the perfection that they are seeking to epitomize or become! This blog is thus an endeavor that would allow all Shishyans to just play around with their latent artistic caliber and enjoy the bliss of a “BRAVO” from known and unknown quarters.

Wednesday, October 31, 2018

Tranquility


Soumya Tiwari, Class X B

There’s something about those nights…
So still and calm.
The silence echoing in the dark.
Just you, alone, staring at the stars.
Tranquility, so beautiful it is.
So magical that your heart it lifts.
Momentary oblivion of all the stress.
Your life no longer a mess.
The beauty of the moon you adore,
And, yet again, you realize,
This is what life is for!
Appreciation.
Of everything you’ve been blessed with.

Monday, October 29, 2018

Asteroid – Santa’s Bag of Gifts


Ananyaa Jain, Class X A

It was an amazing day, full of fun and frolic. We all stood aghast to see a strange flying object over our heads. We started guessing all that it could possibly be.

Rebecca said it could be a UFO. Karen said that now the Earth would be ruled by aliens.

After some time, when we were done guessing and discussing, I drowned myself into my own thoughts. I imagined the object to be every possible thing on Earth, from an extra-large orange falling from a tree and having super healing powers to a sofa set, thrown from the top of Burj Khalifa because a couple had a fight over who would sit on it first!

For once, I also imagined it to be Mickey Mouse’s house or Alladin’s Genie on his flying carpet. I was enjoying in this own fantasy world of mine.

The next day, I was heard in the news that it was an asteroid. I jumped up with excitement. I always had this love for asteroids. When I was five years old, an asteroid had fallen in my town, luckily in the outskirts. At that time, I thought it was something very dangerous and was literally shivering out of fear. My mom wanted to comfort me, so she said, “Oh dearie, don’t be scared. This was Santa’s bag of gifts which he has got for the kids of our town for Christmas this year.” This did comfort me a bit because I was really fond of gifts. It was Christmas the next day and as always my parents kept a gift for me secretly with just a little more decoration than usual and a note that said, “HO HO HO! This gift is for you my dear, and don’t be scared, whenever something like this falls from the sky, and someone says ‘it’s an asteroid’, understand that it’s me with a whole new collection of gifts for my children. – Santa.” I was really glad. Like every year, I believed it was really Santa who had given it to me.

But this time, it was mid July and Christmas season wasn’t near. So, I could not understand why Santa had got gifts for us at this time of the year. I felt suspicious and tried doing some research of my own about asteroids. When I found out what they actually were, I endlessly laughed at myself and my innocence. I never stopped imagining things and getting lost in my world of imagination because it had so much more than the actual world. I liked myself more in my fantasy world than in the real world!

Friday, October 26, 2018

My Bicycle


Raj Jhatia, Class X B

Last week, I went to the market on my bicycle to buy some books. I placed my bicycle outside the shop and went inside. I bought the books I needed and came out of the shop, but… I was horrified to see that my bicycle wasn’t there.

I enquired of people near the shop but it was of no use. No one knew anything about it. I searched everywhere near the shop but couldn’t find it. I was really upset. The bicycle was a gift from my father. I wanted to cry.

I went home after searching for some more time. When I reached home, I was astonished to see my bicycle parked where it usually is. When I entered the house, my brother started scolding me for leaving my bicycle unattended and without unlocked. He had brought it home, thinking I had carelessly left it there. I was so relieved. I didn’t know whether to thank my brother or fight with him for once again taking something from me without informing me.

Wednesday, October 24, 2018

An Amusing Blunder


Vedant Neema, Class X G

Last week, I went to the market on my bicycle to buy some books. I placed my bicycle outside the shop and went in. It took me a while to search for the book I wanted. When I came out, I was shocked to see a man taking my bicycle away. I ran after him and even shouted at the top of my voice asking him to stop. He ignored me and sped away, as fast as he could.

I called my father right away and we went to the nearest police station. I even called the bookstore manager to check the CCTV footage for any evidence. I desperately wanted the thief to be caught and castigated. He had stolen a precious gift. When we were about the lodge the complaint, I received a call from the bookstore manager.

After what he conveyed, I felt so stupid about what I had done in haste. I was informed that my bicycle was still at the bookstore and the person I was chasing had the same bicycle as mine. I realized the blunder I had committed and the trouble I gave to all involved. I laughed with shame and went back with a learning – sometimes what and how you see something may still be untrue.

Monday, October 22, 2018

Dealing with Death


Gauransh Sharma, Class X G

Last week, I went to the market on my bicycle to buy some books. I placed my bicycle outside the shop which was situated at one of the oldest and most abandoned places of the city, perfect for a broody loner like me. It was a freezing evening in the middle of December. The complete darkness was only broken occasionally by the little man-made bonfires near the beggars sleeping on the cold barren pavement. The chilly wind was howling and therefore I entered the shop with my collars up and my jacket tightly sealed. I was welcomed by the beautiful note of the wind chime and the bibliopole who was standing at the counter with a friendly smile. He invited me towards the bookshelves which I often visited but today, I don’t know why, I moved towards the ‘L’ section.

I found the books neatly arranged except one book that looked dusty. I picked it up and patted it to remove the dust from the jacket. I read the title. ‘Grief Observed’ by C S Lewis. It was the blurb that brought tears of anger and grief. It read ‘deals with death’.

Honestly, I had never imagined I would be opening this leaf from the book of my life ever again. It was presumably buried deep beneath the thick misty veils of what everybody called memory. But there are some incidents that, at the sudden mention of certain words, shoot back as kaleidoscopes right in front of your eyes and the word ‘death’ has the same relation with me.

Three years ago, I was just eleven and never bothered much about my parents, my home, my school or the ice cream man at the gate. But June 03, 2015 (8:46 am) changed all of that as the first monsoon showers brought the muddy news of my mother’s death. I knew it was something bad but wasn’t aware of what it meant until I read her diary.

She had written ‘I leave my son with the most precious thing he needs. I have hidden it in his almirah somewhere in the bottom drawer’. I searched my almirah and found a box of chocolates, a bunch of straw, a toy heart and a letter. The letter read

‘Box of chocolates – be sweet to your enemy
Bunch of straw – make a lot of friends
Toy heart – Mom’

That moment shook me and I still curse death for that. I threw the book in a corner and ran towards the door. I rode my bicycle in the darkness and didn’t let the chilly wind blow my tears because I did need them now. 

Friday, October 19, 2018

Ali Brothers


Ronit Banerjee, Class X B

The summer holidays had just begun and Shourya was already getting bored. He decided to change that. His solution was not the temporary escape of playing cricket.
His inspiration came from his brother’s. You see, Dhananjay, Shourya’s brother flourished as the local artistic Messiah.
Selling his art to the local boutique, Dhananjay was adored by all. Yet his fame, was his disgrace. Both brothers shared the same impractical view of the world. Why was fame a disgrace? The answer lies in the five-year-old newspaper with a critic’s remark. ‘Crowd Pleasar’, it said. What was his fault if he was taught art by a teacher and not emotions?
Shourya, inspired by his brother, told his brother about his sudden urge to paint. Dhananjay brought him a canvas and beginners’ acrylic paint. Dhananjay’s meticulous right hand and Shourya’s limitless left brain worked as a charm. The artistic epitomy they both reached was sent to the Telegraph and was duly appreciated. The box read, “A marvelous eye-candy by the Ali Brothers!”
Truly, days like those come rare.