The lost opportunity
As I look through my window
I see the children playing merrily round the willows,
oblivious of the worldly blows.
Alas! there are some who reflect a
situation of juxtapose .
Those unfortunate lads are cursed,
They toil for hours,
And are devoid of the blissful showers,
Being ruled by the words of the nerds
who deprive them from being free birds.
To them childhood is a lost opportunity,
a farfetched reality across the rivers peninsulas,
for their life draws upon the cinemas
of a two letter pardox-:child-labour,
Oh my friend! These two words are akin to a sabre,
ripping their souls for their future goals.
Life is a mere compromise for them,
Whence they are trapped in a vicious circle
of an unlucky gem
Poverty is the only factor
And its time to close this chapter.
Their right to a better life is still due
And those in power need to add it to the queue of the things to get through.
Though there are laws for the same
Yet many amongst us flout the game
And there after their childhood refuses to sprout again.
Perhaps! Their only fault was they were not born with a silver spoon in mouth and thus were foredoomed to feed their masters’ mouths…
Saloni Gupta
(Lovely Professional Universitys’ Student)
Canal Road, Jammu.
THE WHEEL OF TIME
The Twenty-first century is on run, run and run,
At mid-night stroke on the Bosom of Sun.
People celebrate happily their birth and New year.
To everybody it seems to be so dear.
Time repeats Seasons, Years, Months,
Weeks and Days.
Nowhere its own Trace, but Anywhere it Lays.
It is recorded in the calendar of Human.
But nobody knows where from and when it began.
Caused by the Causation of the Greatest-cause.
It is today and Tomorrow, Ever it was.
Stays for none, but catches one and all.
Rulling and Rolling Everything into the final stroll.
Time is given to Shun all the Evil.
Remember God, thus do away with the Devil.
Cultivate faith and trust in the Almighty-Lord.
Follow path of righteousness, that leads to God.
For being Auspicious has been
created the Universe.
Those who go opposite-have to face the worse.
Great people good, do for all noble-deeds.
Their great work leads world, studies and treads.
Who live for themselves, are no good for others
Their name alongwith their dead-body disappears.
Sun, Moon, Angles, Sky, Earth, Water, Fire and Air.
Serve God and his creatures ever-altogether.
Dr. Jawahar Lal Pandita
Ishwar Ashram
Mohinder Nagar,
Canal Road, Jammu
ARE GIRLS SECURE?
Girls:-
A symbol of love
A symbol of peace
A symbol of kindness
But for some people
A symbol of sexual harassment.
Girls are born
Girls are killed
Girls are harassed every where
Who would stop this?
Who would help them?
To face their problems
Girls are daughters who are prayed
Girls are sisters who are loved
Girls are mothers who are respected.
There is need of hope
There is need of love
There is need of care
Who feel unsecure?
There is need of security
There is need for protection
There is need to provide education
There is need for their self respect
There is need for their self determination
Don’t loose hopes
Don’t becomes afraid
We are the symbol of peace
We are the symbol of strength.
Mitiksha Koul
Class 9th
Army Public School, Nagrota
Look into the fog
Look into the fog……one day.
You’ll not see anything, but,
Inside the secrets hidden you’ll find
A corpse with eyes open.
When the sun becomes a comet
And everything’s reduced todarkness,
There comes a drop of tear,
That washes all pleasures
And leaves pains spilled over the cloth of life.
While I’m the sun and will soon be a comet.
Look into the fog……again.
You’ll not see anything, but,
The secrets will be clear in front.
And you’ll find- me.
But you can only have a glance.
I’m soon going to leave.
I have less time left,
But there’s nothing to grieve.
After all, castles built upon a sandy beach,
Don’t last forever………
Shivam Bhatyar
GLORY
At the night,
In the sky,
Some stars twinkle,
Some stars die,
Who moved away,
Were dreams dear,
Ibreathed for,
Some dreams dear,
Heart broken,
Vows blended,
Was it over,
Had it ended,
These nights whisper,
The same story,
What i called my love,
Lost its glory .
Amit Singh
H.No.68, Ward No. 17,
Mohalla Khakha Nabin Poonch
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