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.

Monday, August 14, 2017

A Promise to Dad

Aastha Singh, Class X C

Mom! Where is dad?
And why are you so sad?
You know, everyone is enjoying this night,
And you are still here with tears in your sight?

Mom! Why have you changed into white?
And waiting for someone, I can’t see anyone in this light.
You know, I wanted to go with my friends on a spree,
And you are still here sitting under this tree?

Mom! Why are these men piling woods?
And why this bed out of those goods?
I saw dad’s friends carrying someone on their shoulders.
That man looked like dad. Mom, don’t cry,
My intention was not to make you sad.

Son! That man is your dad.
And we should be proud instead of sad.
He fought to save our country
But failed to save himself and returned from infantry.

Dad! Your son will fulfill your dream.
And I promise, I will never let my people scream.
You are my idol and you make me proud.
I promise one day your son will also stand out of the crowd.

2 comments:

Riddhi Singhania said...

Wow...this poem compels me to say, aloud, JAI HIND! A really nice one!

Aastha singh said...

thanks Riddhi !!