Poetry

By Ridhima Khajuria At times I wonder how many Kinds of feelings do exist, They make you laugh or cry or in Rage, you clench your fist. It’s quite deceptively complex, tho No, there’s no guarantee Who knows how you color your face Emotions confuse in reality. She grew up facing tragedies Her life’s a literal hell, But still, she smiles and loves Why, God, is that fair? Seas across, the couple’s proud Their son won his first gold, Then tell me, why, betraying joy It’s tears th

By Keerthana C ಮೂಡುವ ನ ೇಸರ ನ ೂೇಡಿದ ನಾ, ಸುುಂದರ ನ ೇಸರ ನ ೂೇಡಿದ ನಾ. ನ ೂೇಡಿ ಹರುಷದಿ ಹಾಡಿದ ನಾ, ನ ೂೇಡುತ ಹಾಡುತ ನಲಿದ ನು ನಾ. ಬ ಳಕನು ನೇಡುವ ಕರುಣಿಸಿ ನೇ, ದ ೇವನ ಕಾಣುವ ನನನಲಿ ನಾ. ದಣಿವನುನ ನೇಗಿಸಿ ತಣಿಸುವ ನೇ, ಬದುಕಿಗ ಬನನವ ನೇಡಿದ ನೇ. By Keerthana C

By Sahil Qureshi The dream of every child is such: "I want to feel the Moon's touch." The one big orb in the midst of dots, always wandering in our thoughts. To entertain us, never does it fail, yet one never wonders it's tale. Born from a cluster of rocks, is the one whom our gaze stalls. With countless mysteries in store, it shines in the sky forevermore. Billions of years ago was it made, with heat as such we would dread. Oh! How much did the Moon suffer ? When it got each

By Sahil Qureshi In a far, distant village, there lived a donkey, He was bound in slavery, the fetter without a key, Inflicted on him by his master was the whip of cruelty, Yet the donkey showed him nothing but loyalty, Of the miserable servant, Bhola was the name, Doomed to the blind judgement by race, always knowing infame. Forced to carry quintals of weight, with the reward of hate, Beaten by a hard stick, if he were a jiffy late, such was his fate. Having to eat dry fodde

By Sahil Qureshi Who doesn’t want to be an astronaut? To travel in the void of space, Of the fame and glory we all are taught, But what about the hardships we must face? The prospect of breathing from a cylinder, Is indeed a matter deep, When just one tiny blunder, Can send you off for the endless slumber, On the spacesuit the tiniest of pinpricks, Is enough to tear you apart, Remember that spaceships, Are not as simple as a bullock cart, Being stranded alone in space, Is an

By Sahil Qureshi Cacti are really good, But oft they're misunderstood, Judged by their thorny appearance, Blind fools seek their clearance, Cacti are strong no doubt, Being hardy and stout, withstanding every drought, By their thorns, people are intimidated, But Cacti are good as I stated, Don't judge a book by it's cover, Or you might regret it forever, Because beneath those thorns there lies, A sense of duty that never dies, To maintain the ecosystem, out of duty, They endu

By Prachi एक वक़्त की किताब है... जिसके हर एक पन्ने में एक कहानी लिखी है, क, ख, ग से शुरू होकर The last lesson तक की निशानी छपी है। वक़्त की किताब में लिखे ज़िंदगी के बेमिसाल 15 साल, अब उस पर यादों की धूल सजी है। वो हँसी जो बिना वजह, छोटी छोटी बातों पर बिखर जाती थी, अब वो ही आँखों से यादें बन कर फिसल आती है। वक़्त की किताब का आख़िरी पन्ना लिखा जा चुका है... एक दौर अब सिर्फ़ एक किस्सा बन चुका है। वही किस्सा ज़िंदगी का अहम हिस्सा बन चुका है। सब कहते हैं कि आगे बढ़ना है – पर दिल

By Sanskriti Bansal By Sanskriti Bansal

By Sanskriti Bansal By Sanskriti Bansal

By Sanskriti Bansal By Sanskriti Bansal

By Sanskriti Bansal By Sanskriti Bansal

By Dr. Hari Mohan Saxena पशु स्वास्थ्य की रक्षा करता कृषक सखा इक पशुचिकित्सक, अर्थव्यवस्था को बल देता देश का सेवक, पशुचिकित्सक। जन स्वास्थ्य का प्रहरी सच्चा पशु, मनुष्य में भेद न करता, वन्य जीव संजीवनी देता जल, थल, नभ नहीं रहा अछूता। कठिन रोग की जाँच का माहिर बचें नहीं कीटाणु शातिर, परजीवी से पशु बचाए कर्क रोग तक से लड़ जाए। रोग से बचने का टीका दे विकट संक्रमण से लोहा ले, महामारी को दूर भगाकर मानव, पशु की जान बचा दे। गाय, भैंस हो भेड़ या बकरी सबकी नब्ज़ उसी ने पकड़ी, कुत्ता, बिल्

By Dr. Hari Mohan Saxena घर का राजदुलारा पप्पू सबके मन को भाता पप्पू, पापा का मन बहलाता था मम्मी का राजा बेटा था। अपनी बाल सुलभ क्रीड़ा से सब का ही मन हर्षाता था। तुतलाकर जब बातें करता बात पते की तब वो करता। खेल खिलौने उसको भाते सब बच्चे मिल उसे खिलाते, रिश्तेदार, पड़ौसी सारे उसे देखकर खुश हो जाते। ताऊ गोद में लिए घुमाते साइकिल पर भी सैर कराते, ताई उसपर प्यार लुटातीं चाची टॉफ़ी उसे खिलातीं। दादा जी की उँगली थामे पप्पू जाता उन्हें घुमाने, रोज बाग़ में दोनों जाते खुश होकर वापस घर आ

By Dr. Hari Mohan Saxena सपने हमको क्यों आते हैं ? आखिर ये क्या बतलाते हैं ? कुछ तो शुभ संकेत दिखाते कुछ अनिष्ट का डर दे जाते। मानव का सपनों के जग से रिश्ता शायद कोई पुराना, दिखते  कभी लोग पहचाने कभी नज़र आते अनजाने। सपनों की दुनिया है निराली संकेतों की भाषा आली, घटनाएं जो घटने वाली कभी समस्या के हल वाली। आते नहीं बुलाने पर भी बिना बुलाए आएं कभी भी, कभी सपन देख डर जाते अच्छे दिन की आस जगाते। जो अभिलाषा पूरी ना हो स्वप्न देखकर उसको जी लो, कठिन लक्ष्य या प्रेम असंभव मगर स्वप्न म

By Sejal Garg Counting like a ticking bomb, Every second marches on. From end to start, Framing moments is an art. Choosing goals, compiling together, Working hard, striving forever. A vain life is as good as dead, Or so a wise saint once said. Life flees without a feel, Being busy is true zeal. By Sejal Garg

By Sejal Garg The constant denial and praise— A phase one must embrace. Different characters, Different art masters. They knew their role, Actors at their very soul. Life goes on and on, And I unknowingly roll along. With little script to guide my view, And meeting faces—only a few. By Sejal Garg

By Sejal Garg Lone I am, and lone I feel, Yet on my own, I learn to heal. The world is vast, yet I can see, Loyalty lives in none but in me. Many fish may long for waves, Yet water turns to mark their graves. Amidst the void, I gaze at hills, Not the valleys near the mills. The world is vast, yet dwells in me, I see it clear with hope set free. By Sejal Garg

By Sejal Garg To talk excessive, An act submissive. You regret what you said, No objective ahead. Taste sticks to the tongue, Words glue and run. Formal talk is conscious, Happy talk is spontaneous. Though excited, in sudden, Take less stress, have some fun. By Sejal Garg

By Sejal Garg The more we aspire, The more we strain and tire. The more we develop, The more our paths overlap. The road we see each day, Feels familiar in every way. The scent of purpose fills the air, Echoing voices of those once there. The same old feeling, The same old self-healing. The past is a mirror — it reflects itself, In others’ lives, or within ourselves. By Sejal Garg

By Sejal Garg The fate of this world Is to pull and hold Us down to the earth, To make us doubt our worth. The flying bird is free But sometimes sits on a tree, Resting and reflecting— But people call it lazy and surrendering. People curse, yet they will Stay strong and not feel. Work for what your heart says, Forever-through years, months, &days. By Sejal Garg