inner voice

My Grandmother

I am talking about the one
Who faces all troubles for me even if they weigh a ton.
She is one of the chambers of my heart
Who wants me to become smart
She loves me lot
And gives me milk in a pot
She always watches me with a kind look
She is the world’s best cook
Even though she has a back pain
She takes me out in the rain
Whenever the weather is cool
She weaves a sweater made of wool
But she becomes strict to me
When I give a false plea
I don’t know why she behaves like this
But whenever she scolds me,
she gives me a kiss
To take care of me she always stands
And to help me she lands
She loves me and my lovely brother
She is no one else but my grandmother
Sanjay Kumar
on e-mail



How dependent I was
Carefree life it was
Until that ferocious and raging winds
Shook my life and it’s strings
Struggling and doing things on my own
With this tumultuous phase I’ve grown
In their absence how much I learnt
Midnight oil I’ve burnt !
Indeed a cataclysmic phase ….
A penultimate stage ,
With perturbed mind…..
And responsibilities bind ,
Accompanying emotional
breakdowns…Me, it astounds
Incessant troubles ….
Everys[day’s struggles
Tutelage and pedagogy offered by life
Has revamped a careless and pampered teenager torn with strife
I’m doing my part
That which is my slot
Prioritising my responsibility and duty
Since its my beauty
Yah! Studies got affected
But when I reflected
I found this phase  has taught me much
Which 12 years study couldn’t teach as such
This time, I never let them compromise
As it was my turn to sacrifice
That’s why I’m much sufficed
No my battle is not over
Dark clouds still hover
For a gruelling test I’m appearing
Through it my life is steering
It’s hard I know
But it’s seed for future
that I’ve to sow !!!
Aditi Choudhary
APSD class 12



I was with a blunt knife,
And was surely at a low ebb.
For the enemy mocked me and laughed,
As he had a clear edge.
But he forgot one thing,
That battalion are not constituted by weapons.
They are made of valiant hearts,
That beat for the country and its men.
Hearts whose each beat is a victory,
For which gold coins should be cast,
And as the men show their valour,
They prepare their each beat to be the last.
As when great beasts die,
they die in the name of their den.
And wars are won in eden,
Not in the battlefield with a Nepoleon.
For years they searched for the monster,
That could conquer a man’s will.
As the God also blesses thou braves.
With patriotism whose hearts he fill.
Here goes the pride of proud men,
Carrying the flag of their nation,
For they know that life is a
mere journey for them
And immortality, their last destination.
In the great battle,
I show my valour,
As my inner beast comes to life,
The enemies’ heart yearns to think upon,
of my triumphs and my blunt knife.
Jagandeep Singh
Class – 12th
K.V. No.1, Gandhi Nagar