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Literary Vibes - Edition CXLV (27-Sep-2024) - YOUNG MAGIC


Ritika likes to find an unusual angle in the usual things. Her work is mostly written in hindi and english, but she likes experimenting in other languages as well. Her articles are often published in the newspaper ‘The Hitavada’. Her poems can be found under the pen name ‘Rituational’ in Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/rituational and in her blog: http://songssoflife.blogspot.com/ & Her Contact: ritika.sriram1@gmail.com

 


 

Table of Contents ::  YOUNG MAGIC

 

 

1) Anura Parida
    Chapter Seven

2) Trishna Sahoo
    My Half Yearly Examination

3) Sreekumar K
    THE SWING


 

Chapter Seven

Anura Parida


A warm sunny day,
With the sun singing songs.
A book on my lap lay,
In a story in which I belong.

A mystical royal palace,
With its corridors so wide.
And its gates so welcoming to have us inside,
A king on his throne gleaming with pride.

I stare hard at the letters,
Written in this book of mine.
My mind light as feathers,
And the picture the book creates, divine.

Chandelier hanging from the high ceilings,
The fire in them burning bright.
The knight’s armour that stands still, unfeeling,
The slow crackling of fire at night.

A forwarded hand emerged from the book,
With a glow in my eyes, hands of acceptance it took.
Indulged in a story, so glorious,
Marvellous dreams of reality so, sleepless.

The stairs twisted and curved oddly though,
The cape swept across the step.
The gown I wear, silky, with every step it shall flow,
The banister rusted with the vines that crept.

 

To a new family I have been introduced,
Not able to accept myself even when they induced.
A crown so heavy to bore on my head,
The crown denies heaviness, I found as I read.

The plot slowly discloses with cunningness and tricks,
I became alert for the number of stones my crown held, six.
Of what all the odd paintings depicts,
And of what the crystal ball predicts.

It became clear what the shadowy man inflicts,
Of the darkness which to the kingdom sticks.
Aware of the mistakes which now, unable to fix,
The solution lurking around leading to conflicts.

Slowly the letter’s black ink faded,
Into the darkness it departs.
Freeing my mind as the story had invaded,
The moon gleams, the book thumps with its heart as it beats.

 

I am Anura Parida, a 12-year-old creative writer currently studying in the 8th grade. Ever since I can remember, words have been my closest companions, and poetry has become my heartfelt expression.

Through my writing, I explore the tapestry of emotions that color my world – from the joy of friendship to the contemplation of life's mysteries.

Besides being a writer, I am an avid reader, devouring classics and contemporary literature alike, which helps me expand my creative horizons.

Art, in all its forms, holds a special place in my heart, and I enjoy sketching and painting to complement my poetic musings. Thank you for reading, and I look forward to sharing this beautiful world of creative writing with you all!

 


My Half Yearly Examination

Trishna Sahoo


The Half Yearly Examination notice was displayed,
Even before the class tests ended.

When Examinations came near,
Everyone's mind was full of fear.

So much anxiety and so much tension,
So much headache and so much palpitation !

Like an ocean, the syllabus is so vast ,
The time clock is running so fast .

Homework, revision and preparation,
All together put me into a state of confusion .

The days without examination, still I remember,
How we had enjoyed upto class four !

"Don't worry baby", said my teacher,
Examination will start and it will be over .

Let you enjoy every moment and focus on your study,
You will get over every stage without being moody.

Life is an examination, every day is a question paper,
Let's solve it without much brooding over.

Truly, the Half Yearly Examination is over,
Back to normal without any hangover.

 

Trishna ( Natuni ) , a class VII student of Sai International School, Bhubaneswar, born to engineer parents and doctor grandparents, is a gifted child . A disciplined and dedicated learner, she excels as a student, family member, orator , writer and a swimmer. She is blended with traditional and cultural values, spirituality, science and arts .A nature loving girl, she has taken reading books and traveling as her hobbies. Her favorite dish is Chicken Biryani prepared by her mother . Her motto of life is , " NEVER BE A DEFAULTER ".

 


 

THE SWING

Sreekumar K

 

Appu still remembered how sad he was last Onam when he couldn’t swing. But this year was different. His father had set up a big swing in the yard for Appu’s brother and sister.
Last year, Appu was too little and too scared. His mother, sitting on the swing, had put him on her lap, but even then, Appu cried. He was so frightened. How embarassing that had been. He worried that if his elder sister told her friends, they would all laugh at him.
But this year, things were going to be different. Appu had grown up. He promised himself that this Onam, he would be brave.
When the swing was finally ready, all the children from the neighborhood rushed over to try it. Appu wanted to go first, but his sisters tried to stop him. Didn’t they know he was bigger now? After all, one year is twelve months.
After waiting for the others to finish, Appu slowly walked over to the swing. He didn’t want anyone to see him fall if something went wrong. The swing hung from the highest branch of the jackfruit tree, and it looked so shiny and smooth, like a mirror.
His sisters helped him sit on the swing, though they kept whispering and giggling to each other.
"Don’t push the swing, just put me on it!" Appu said nervously.
The sisters smiled knowingly and went for their own games and dance in the courtyard.
Appu’s feet couldn’t touch the ground, so he wasn’t sure how to start swinging by himself. His brothers and sisters had vanished.  
Suddenly, the swing started moving, but not too fast.
“Who’s pushing me?” Appu wondered. He felt a breeze tickle his ears and realized it was the wind itself, gently rocking him back and forth.
The swing moved smoothly with the wind’s help, and Appu smiled. He felt like a little bird flying through the sky for the first time.
As the swing started rocking, Appu could hear the traditional dance song from the courtyard.
"Is there something wrong?
Aren’t the flowers enough?
Dance O! Dance
Dance to my beats, your beats
Our beats"
Listening to the song and the tap-tap of the feet in the courtyard Appu’s heart started to give.
The wind had gone up to swing on the higher branches.

 

Sreekumar K, known more as SK, writes in English and Malayalam. He also translates into both languages and works as a facilitator at L' ecole Chempaka International, a school in Trivandrum, Kerala.

 


Suyansh Mishara - A Young Genius

UKG student, Age - 5 years

Bhadrak, Odisha. Grand parents are teachers. From the very childhood Suyansh is fond of remembering and reciting the  Sanskrit slokas , telling stories.

His Video is Below.. 




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