By Srushti Srikanth, Grade 7, BGS National Public School – Bangalore

Shrushti 1

It is a beautiful day – as beautiful as beautiful can be. The sun’s rays are warm on my skin. Butterflies are doing their mating dance in beds of grass: green, flecked here and there with brown. Birds are humming a quiet tune, and bees are buzzing around, trying to find the right flower. The sky is painted with white fluffs of clouds.

An occasional breeze blows over me, making this place feel more like heaven. A grasshopper hums in the distance, making the butterflies that had quieted down rise again to its tone. Eagles cycle the clear blue sky, and plants and trees dance majestically as the wind blows. This is nature in all her glory, as far as I know.

A cow bellows deeply in the distance. I remove my slippers and feel the grass underneath my feet – cool in some places and warm in others. I hear a cock crow. Something, an insect probably, chirps.

I am just a student, I have my exams ahead of me. But for now my thoughts drift away, all else forgotten as I enjoy the peace and tranquility that only mother nature can provide.Shrushti # 2

Photos clicked around Shrusthi’s home – her Wonderland


What’s in a name?

Today, we are defining ourselves. So here goes!

AshAshriti [Nature loving!!]

A Adventurous


H – Happy about everything!

R – Rainbows flying everyday!

I – Intelligent

T – Sticks to Time!

I – Interested in everything!

Screen Shot 2016-05-28 at 11.32.28 AMShahyan

[DJ Bravo!!]

S – Super-talented

H – Honourable 

A – Acrobat

H – Humane

Y – Yorker’s bowler!

A – Adventurous

N – Nature-loving

Screen Shot 2016-05-28 at 11.42.13 AMMehr 


M – Loves Melodious melodies

E – Energetic

H – Happiness all the time!

R – Rainbow cotton candy... yum-yum!



A – Acrobatically talented

B – Bouncy

H – Hilarious

I – Addicted to Ice-cream!

J – Joker

I – Interested in pranking people.

T – Talented in skateboarding!

H – Horrid!!!



By Vinesh Mirpuri, Emirates International School – Dubai

Lack of oxygen, weakness – I feel really wet and dehydrated at the same time. I open my eyes and see different shades of blue. At first everything looks normal, until I stare into the distance and see a small little clown fish at my eye level. Nothing seems normal. Everything is unnatural. For some reason, I don’t smell anything. I think I might have lost my sense of smell down here or something. I taste the saltiness, like I was in an ocean. Wait a minute! I think I am under the ocean!

I hear a sudden noise; I look behind me and see a school of fish. I struggle to breathe, as there is little or no oxygen down here. I try to remember what happened before I woke up, but my head is entirely blank. How can I survive under water? How long have I been down here?

I look into the distance and see a few big rocks stacked on top of each other. They are approximately 10 km away from my current location. Could I be close to land?  In the blink of an eye, I’m by the rocks, without struggle or fatigue. How can I move from one location to another – 10 km away – so fast?

I’ve heard of the anonymous Streak in Central City who is the fastest man alive. Could I be another Streak? I climb up the rocks looking for land, and as I erupt from the ocean, I see Tokyo. I walk onto the Tokyo harbour, cautiously looking for any clues. I suddenly see a newspaper with the year 2048 printed on it. I’ve been underwater for 25 years!

As I browse through the newspaper, I read about economic struggles, and how ISIS almost killed the entire world’s population in 2047. I finally put together that I might be the only person alive in the world. I continue to walk through Japan.

Suddenly it all comes back to me.  The year was 2020, and the particle accelerator was going to be launched in five minutes. I was on a plane heading to Tokyo. On the flight I was watching the Dr. Wells announce the launching of the accelerator in Central City. As soon as the accelerator went on, a big, massive explosion of colors lightened up the sky. The plane’s engines stopped working and it went crashing down into the sea. Nobody had survived.

I’ve heard of how Flash can travel back in time. Can I do that too? Can I go back in time and save the world?


  • More from Lian Gonzales, grade 10

Have you ever experienced living in a world wherein everything can happen, but it’ll only last for a while? You sit there, mind blurry, unaware of the surroundings… wandering around random images and memories. You lie down on the grass, staring up at the clouds and trying to think about what each shape reminds you of. It could be fluffy flying marshmallows or that character form your childhood cartoons.

Another one – you close your eyes and all you can see is black, but not for long. You think, then think deeper, until you can see yourself in another dimension wherein everything can happen. Or maybe some memories are replayed― those heart-warming and memorable moments of your life. It’s like you are making your own world with your mind and heart alone, wide and free… And this world, it’s your imagination.

I Looked Out of the Window…

– by Lian Gonzales, Grade 10

I didn’t want you to go, but why did I let you go? Give me one more chance, but don’t trust me too much.

I remembered the time when I looked out of the window to see the bus leaving. I didn’t even know if I was struck with sorrow or relief. But I knew one thing, I was alone.

The flowers I gave you at your funeral, they’ve wilted from the changing seasons. The cake that I’ve baked for you that day, it’s still there at the oven, begging to be eaten. The love that I gave you, it has been taken away when you were still living.

But why now? Why would you leave after I’ve realized my real love for you?

I looked out of the window to see you leaving, and never returning. I looked out of the window to see the bus returning, but I don’t see you leaving from it.

I want you to go, but I didn’t want to let you go. Give me one more chance and trust me with all of your heart.

Return to my arms. I want to see you living, not leaving.

“Where are you from?”

                                                                                   – by Devanshi Arora, Grade 8

“Where are you from?”

This question has been asked countless times, on multiple occasions.

But really, where am I from?

I am from my homeland… but where is my homeland?

Is it where I was born …or is it where my ancestors spent most of their life time?

This question has baffled even the smartest of people, who live away from their “home” and are temporarily staying in another country, of different beliefs and traditions.

“Where is my  home?”

When you come to a different country, you learn from that country. You learn it’s culture, it’s history. And if you live in this same country for long, it becomes a part of you, and you become a part of it. It becomes your home, your safe haven.

It is said that your home is where your heart is. Where you feel the most comfort, the most relaxed and the most at ease.

For me, that is not India, but it is Dubai.

So, why is it then, that every time I mention this, my family hastily attempts to change my opinion?

“Your home is in India! You are an Indian citizen!” they say.

But, after living in Dubai for eleven odd years, my answer has never changed.

When I’m asked the dreaded question…my answer has been and will be the same.

“I was born in India, but I am from Dubai, my home.” I’ll state.

                      “And that’s where I’m from.”

Locked in My Mind

By Radhika Agarwal

A woman in the corner,
Sat motionless on the floor.
… They called her my mother,
But I’d never seen her before.

I was taken to my home,
By other unknown faces.
But the rooms full of memories,
Were to me just empty spaces.

I woke up one morning,
To a stranger not too strange.
His eyes teemed with pain,
But his expression didn’t change.

Long after he was gone,
I sat staring at the ceiling,
Trying to make sense of
The turmoil I’d been feeling.

And when I closed my eyes,
I could almost recall,
The stories they kept telling me;
I almost got past the wall.

Yet the sky was too cloudy,
And the fog too thick.
The streets were too crowded,
Enough to make me sick.

As months passed by,
I lived on aimlessly.
A mere forgotten shadow,
Of the girl I used to be.

And there were times when I
Almost unlocked the cuff.
The key came close to the lock,
But it was never close enough.



The Little Blue Kite

A short story by Mariam Abdelrhman, Grade IV Red, The Oxford School, Dubai

Once there was a kite.  A little kite, with a bright yellow tail.  She was very pretty to look at.  But she did not like to fly too high.  The little blue kite belonged to a little girl called Lulu.  One evening  Lulu took her out, and guess what she did?  She flew into a big tree  and would not come down.  Lulu pulled and pulled at the string.  The string broke.  Lulu was very sad.  She left it up in the tree and went home.

Then darkness fell.  The leaves of the tree kept the little blue kite warm.  A puff of breeze sang to her… The little blue kite slept, and she had a dream.  She dreamed that she was in a place full of kites of all colours.  All the kites had faces painted on them. One had a long nose.

The little blue kite hid herself among the leaves.

“Aren’t you coming for the race?” asked the puff of breeze. “No, I am afraid.” said the little blue kite. “We all are afraid”, said the puff of breeze, “Come on.”

Down below a whistle blew. All the kites took off. They looked like a beautiful, colourful cloud. The little blue kite drew a deep breath. And she took off too, making straight for the sun…

Suddenly, the little blue kite woke up from her sleep. It was morning and there was Lulu, under the tree. The little blue kite smiled at her and floated down. Soon, she was flying up and up. A little blue kite in a big blue sky.

A Victim of War

By Athira Warrier

While the sunrise paints an erratic blaze,
And the very winds cower away,
Scattered flowers bloom, a deep crimson,
The cries of war signal a new day.

Children awake to rattling guns,
They know not why they cry.
Bereaved of everything they may hold dear,
Abandoned, their lives gone awry.

Tell us, what is worth this carnage,
Tell us, what comes of this hate?
Explain, why we need to suffer,
Such a cruel twist of fate?

Chaos rears, a dragon in all fury,
As hollow eyes watch in despair.
There is no honor in this victory,
Where innocents have been slain, caught in war’s snare.

Tell us, where do you want us to hide?
Tell us, why do you torture us so?
Expound, on the need for such slaughter
Why do rivers of blood flow?

Day after day, the headlines do blare,
Our grief, etched in black and white.
As you mow down our people and seize our lands,
We are poor victims of your spite.

Tell us, is this what patriotism is?
Tell us, is violence the only way?
In what way are we different from you?
We are but pawns in this brutal game you play.