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Stoem#13-Lifecycle’s Ride

I still remember the day I went to the shop across my society to take of the training wheels off my cycle. I was super excited to take rounds around my society, but every round I would look forward to the slope. I loved every bit of going down the slope, the thrill, the speed, the wind across my face. However, when the same slope had to be travelled up on, I would frown at the thought. Often, if I was with my dad, I would ask him to take it up the slope, just to enjoy bring it down again, much to his annoyance. But when I look back at this experience as a bystander, I realize it’s the exact opposite when it comes to life. It’s the uphills we crave and the downhills we hate! This led to the writing of this stoem, hope you enjoy it!

With a foot on the pedal,
you stare at the life’s road.
You embark on your journey,
Not knowing what it holds.
Within you is an ambition,
To reach the mountains crest,
you begin to push your limits,
Put yourself to the test.
steeper the upward slope,
harder is the fight.
The climb is slow and steady,
Success isn’t overnight.
But a mistake, weakness or fate,
That triggers your downfall,
Always much faster than the climb,
You seem to lose it all.
You try to grasp at straws,
Your helpless self about to retreat
But your stubborn mind and heart,
Don’t let you stop your feet.
crossroads tempt you with an easier way,
But you stick to the hard lane,
The momentum downhill, though unreckoned,
was the wisdom that you had gain.
This gives you a boost at the next uphill,
With a little less distance to cover,
A little you already knew,
A little more you will discover.
Until you conquer to mountain you wanted,
You see the view and smile,
And when you look back, you know,
the ups and downs made it worthwhile.

-Pranjali

Posted in #poetry, #stories

Stoem#12- Behind Each Face is a Story….

Apart from the obvious positives and advantages of being a head girl, there are a few unsaid joys. And that is, even if not in talking terms, you get to know a lot of people. One of the first duties I was given as a Head Girl (which I recently became…wohoo!), was to stand each morning at the gate and check if people were dressed appropriately and tidily. However, each morning I find myself guilty of not doing this duty very well, since I’m busy seeing not the uniforms, but the faces. But this distraction is not one I regret, since it led to the writing of this Stoem.

Behind each face is a story,

and stories are what I collect,

every morning at the school gate,

there are a few faces, I select

Few who come with drowsy eyes

Monday blues have hit too deep

reluctance in each step they take

they would much rather be asleep

then come two ponies toddling about

A face with a grin from ear to ear

school bag half her size, no burden

she seems simply glad to be here.

I hear sniffles in the corner

Bursting into a doleful cry

Tiny arms tightly hugging his mother

Struggling to say good bye.

Arm in Arm come the two amigos

with endless supply of jokes and gossips

The day ahead might be tiring and hard,

they’ll stride through the highs and dips

standing out amongst the uniforms

Comes one in her birthday dress

With sweets and cupcakes for all

In turn treated like a princess

Nose deep into a book

Trying to remember all the text

Last minute research for a project

Or perhaps a forgotten test

There’s cheery greetings,

and contagious smiles

There’s Yawns, Frowns

Jaded days once in a while
 

The world around is full of mimes

So, go ahead and pick a few

You will discover, in different ways

They all reflect a bit of you…

Posted in #poetry, #stories

STOEM#10 THE TOSS

We were watching a cricket match one Sunday evening. The toss was going on, both the Captains eagerly waiting for the result. Watching from home sitting on my sofa, I remember cheering loudly when the team I was supporting won the toss. Looking at me my father smiled and said, “think about it… the same thing you saw and cheered was seen by someone else supporting the other team. And while you are so happy, they must be upset”. Thinking about this, I realised how it applies to so many situations in our life, whether the result is based on luck or decision. And this thought is what I have written this stoem on…

The coin flips and heart says,

“will it be heads or tails?”

Every time one of them wins

The other one fails…

Whether it’s a game of chance

Or it’s a choice you had

With a change in circumstance

Even the good becomes bad

Because after all what matters

Is your point of view

What looks like 6 to me

Might be 9 to you

In this world we live,

There is no right or wrong

There’s only your truth and my truth

And they rarely get along

So the best thing to do

Is to let that coin toss

Sometimes gain a win

Sometimes accept a loss…

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STOEM#7 HOPE

There are some days where nothing seems to go the way you want it to, isn’t it? I was having one such bad day. I lost an extremely easy table tennis match. Being in a bad mood, I ended up having a fight with my best friend. Back on the way from school, my uniform got torn while getting into my school bus. While getting down at my stop, I thought that I am very bad at table tennis, a horrible friend and a careless person, good for nothing. That’s when I saw something. Something that really changed the way I think. And I decided to write a stoem on it…

Getting off the bus, crossing the street,

A lovely sight made me stop at my feet.

A tender little plant, starting to sprout,

About to know the world, peeping out.

Growing out of a crack, yet leaves so green

And just besides it a cut tree could be seen.

I tried to guess in what, thought it will be,

It might be thinking someday, this will happen to me.

Looking at this, it troubled my head,

If It knows it may happen, does it want to live ahead?

Then it occurred to me, maybe even though it could die,

It had a stubborn mind made up, to give its life a try.

With a wave of guilt in me,

all I could do was stand and see.

With a heavy heart I started on my way,

But turned back as I still, had a goodbye to say.

And I saw a little boy, poor and thin,

Watering that plant, from a little box of tin.

I was glad to know that tiny plant, also has a friend,

Hope is always there with you, when you feel it’s the end.
BY PRANJALI SHAH