Literary Vibes - Edition CLVII (26-Sep-2025) - YOUNG MAGIC
Title : The Peacock by Julian Lenju
Julian Lenju, son of Capt. Lenju Paul and Dr Jennifer Sakhya is a student of Dawn International School in Ernakulam, Kerala. He is in the sixth grade now. He likes painting and indulges in it when he visits his grandmother.
His early paintings where imitations. Being untutored, he tries to imitate what he sees. He made his first painting on a hard board when he was three years old. It is proudly displayed in his grandmother's house. He and his younger brother communicate in a language that is close to Hindi, a register the siblings created, which only they understand. Apart from painting, he is also keen on his studies and loves playing football.
A silent observer, he is fond of animals especially cats.
Young Magic
01) Tanusha
A JOURNEY INTO THE PAST
02) Anura Parida
MAYBE A RIDDLE
03) Juan Lenju
MY PENCIL ARTS NATSU
04) Shivanshi Das
MY PAINTING
Tanusha
On a hot Sunday, the birds chirped, and hot winds blew around me. I sat on the swing in my backyard, with my diary and a pen. Quickly scribbling about my day, my mind reeled about the tiny details of my day. All of a sudden, I saw something shiny. Near the mulberry bush, something lustrous. It shone due to the sun. I quietly got off the swing, and scurried to the bush. Sitting down on the soft grass, I fiddled with the leaves of the bush, until I found a key.
It was like I was in a trance. Without thinking, I ran out of our gate, onto the street, with no particular purpose. I had no idea where I was going. It was like an invisible force pulling me somewhere. Finally I stopped at the house I always avoided. It was a large mansion, with brown walls, and a black rooftop. It was the type of house you’d find in horror movies. It had an eerie feel. Abandoned, dusty porches, windows not cleaned for years. Despite my fear, I took a deep breath as I stepped on the porch and put the key in the keyhole of the front door. It opened in a second, I didn’t even have to turn the key. It just opened. I looked around. Dusty couches and tables. Coffee mug marks on the tables. I cautiously roamed around, opening cabinets, checking drawers. I found several pictures of a man with a black coat and hat, reading a newspaper outside this same house. There were timings written on the pictures. “Odd”, I said to myself. All of a sudden, two golden eyes appeared right in front of me. I yelped and hit my head right on a cabinet.
“Ouch.” I mumbled, when I realised I had been scared by a cat. That’s when I heard a strange whirring sound coming from the only room that was left to explore. The door creaked open as I touched it. Inside was a large black machine, with several illuminated buttons on it. Some red, some blue, some green. I sat down on the chair next to the machine. The cat suddenly jumped on the machine, pressing random buttons, which made the machine come alive. The room went dark, and my mind went fuzzy. Two seconds later, I was in a different house. Or was it the same house? I couldn’t tell. Same furniture, different feel. There was a small bed. Near the bed, was a table with a huge monitor on it. There was a lady with soft brown hair, and a kind look on her face sitting on the bed, she was wearing a dirty night dress, with so many stains on it. She was clearly tired, alternating between answering calls on her monitor and feeding a little baby on the bed. She was my mom. The baby was me. I rushed to her monitor to check the date, it was eleven years ago. Mom quickly got up, rushed to the kitchen, and heated a bottle of milk. While the baby sat on the bed, howling. Mom came back in a hurry, pressed a few keys on her monitor, put the bottle in the baby’s mouth, and got on a call on her monitor. She was evidently stressed and hurried, which made me feel guilty. So guilty, I started thinking about the times I snapped at her, screamed at her, and called her mean. My vision went fuzzy. A second later, I was back in the room with the machine. “That.. was horrible”, I thought. I walked home with one thought, and one thought only. How inconsiderate I had been to Mom in the past few years. That evening I promised to myself never to take her love for granted again.
Tanusha is a student of Class 7 in Greater NOIDA near Delhi. Her "Journey Into The Past" is full of imagination, and finally there is a realisation how unfair and demanding she had been to her mother.
Anura Parida
Maybe, riddle is the heart, riddle is the soul,
Riddle is life, riddle is a lot more.
Riddle is in the air, Riddle is everywhere,
Wind from the breeze and every strand of hair.
Riddles seem to be twisted, twisted by words,
Words so simple, complex when heard.
Those who decode them, people call them a genius or a nerd,
A different meaning hidden in every word.
Every climax of a story,
To the victory of the king, to his glory.
Answers to these riddles lead to a great story,
Riddles into song passed down in history.
Why the stillness of the northern star?
Why is the ocean spread wide afar?
Why can my nose smell the flower?
Why do I think about riddles for hours?
Maybe riddle is a person, riddle is an emotion,
Riddle is the potion; Riddle is the ocean.
Riddle is God, Riddle is odd,
Or maybe riddles are complex only for the heads that didn’t nod.
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!
Juan Lenju
I am Juan Lenju, brother of Julian Lenju. I am in the fourth grade at Dawn International School. I am nine years old, kind and friendly, and looking out for adventures. I like making new friends, swimming, playing football and drawing. I sketch very fast and most of my drawings end up like cartoons. That is what my grandma says. I am happy helping others and animals and even insects. I like learning new things and even languages. I communicate in Hindi with my sibling, which only we understand. Sometimes, I create on-the-spot short stories and recite them to the amazement of my granny, who says it is spoken word poetry. My aim, now is to become a footballer. I also like to make people around me laugh and smile. I like being called Dany, which is my pet name.
Shivanshi Das
Shivanshi Das, the newest entrant to the Literary Vives family, was born to engineer parents and is currently a fourth-grade student in Hyderabad. With a natural talent for painting, she enjoys capturing the beauty of nature on any available canvas. Beyond her artistic abilities, Shivanshi is a multi-talented individual excelling in academics, sports like badminton and swimming, dance, and gymnastics. A voracious reader, she has a remarkable ability to finish books in both English and Hindi within a short time frame, comprehending them to a high degree. Her favorite dish is Chicken Biryani, lovingly prepared by her mother, and her closest confidant is her father. Shivanshi also has a passion for teaching, displaying abundant patience, with her grandfather being her favorite student. May Lord Jagannath bless her endeavors in all aspects of her life.
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