Wow...so somebody's reading after all...cool.
I've got a poem on the way, an early one of mine. It was composed when I was in Class 8 (read 13 years old). It's called "Potion Notions". Here it comes...
Potion Notions
A poem by Anushya S.B.
"Old Grandma is up to mischief
Not doing what she normally should.
Slipping into the forest
In a cloak and an old grey hood,
You can just tell that
She’s up to no good…
Her grey mop tucked
Underneath her hideous hat,
Clutching her broomstick,
Followed by her faithful black cat;
She goes hunting in the forest,
Hunting for this and that…
First she goes hunting for mushrooms:
Fly Agarics and Death Caps…
All guaranteed to cause
Greatest misfortune and mishap
Next comes the Flegora tree
And its poisonous green sap…"
Continued...
"Old Grandma is up to mischief
Not doing what she normally should.
Slipping into the forest
In a cloak and an old grey hood,
You can just tell that
She’s up to no good…
Her grey mop tucked
Underneath her hideous hat,
Clutching her broomstick,
Followed by her faithful black cat;
She goes hunting in the forest,
Hunting for this and that…
First she goes hunting for mushrooms:
Fly Agarics and Death Caps…
All guaranteed to cause
Greatest misfortune and mishap
Next comes the Flegora tree
And its poisonous green sap…"
Continued...
Potion Notions (continued..)
P.S.: You must have got used to long poems by now...you just have to, because I don't and can't write short ones!
"And then comes old Mrs. Twitch
Asking to be reverted to childhood
“I don’t know! I think I’ll try”
Says Mrs. Twitch: “You definitely should!”
And then they both hurry
And scurry out of the woods…
Setting off for Grandma’s hut
To start making the magical brew,
She’d certainly use the frog’s legs
For she’d cut them as soon as they grew.
She wouldn’t use the Rowsdrop,
For its sources were very few…
Meanwhile Mrs. Twitch says:
“I want to be young and beautiful again.”
Grandma mutters: “I’ll put this in;
Picked when the moon was on its wane.”
“I’ll add some spiced Regolda.”
She murmurs: “Maybe some sugarcane.”
Yup, there's more...
"And then comes old Mrs. Twitch
Asking to be reverted to childhood
“I don’t know! I think I’ll try”
Says Mrs. Twitch: “You definitely should!”
And then they both hurry
And scurry out of the woods…
Setting off for Grandma’s hut
To start making the magical brew,
She’d certainly use the frog’s legs
For she’d cut them as soon as they grew.
She wouldn’t use the Rowsdrop,
For its sources were very few…
Meanwhile Mrs. Twitch says:
“I want to be young and beautiful again.”
Grandma mutters: “I’ll put this in;
Picked when the moon was on its wane.”
“I’ll add some spiced Regolda.”
She murmurs: “Maybe some sugarcane.”
Yup, there's more...
Attack of the long poems...(muahhahah!!)
Continued...
"The cauldron simmers and shimmers
With sinister green smoke.
Seeing which Mrs. Twitch
Coughs, sneezes and chokes.
Saying: “I certainly couldn’t gulp that
Just as I couldn’t eat my cloak!”
But she bravely swallows it
And ages all backwards and as she
Reaches the stage, Grandma shouts
“That’s perfect! Not a year backward or forward!”
But in fact, Mrs. Twitch doesn’t stop
And goes on to grow to an infant!
The growing and changing all
Stop with the sound of a gong
Muses Grandma: “I didn’t mean to
Make her so young, something’s wrong!”
She stands thinking about her failed potion
While the child sings a little song!"
THE END...hey, at least it wasn't as long as the first one!!
"The cauldron simmers and shimmers
With sinister green smoke.
Seeing which Mrs. Twitch
Coughs, sneezes and chokes.
Saying: “I certainly couldn’t gulp that
Just as I couldn’t eat my cloak!”
But she bravely swallows it
And ages all backwards and as she
Reaches the stage, Grandma shouts
“That’s perfect! Not a year backward or forward!”
But in fact, Mrs. Twitch doesn’t stop
And goes on to grow to an infant!
The growing and changing all
Stop with the sound of a gong
Muses Grandma: “I didn’t mean to
Make her so young, something’s wrong!”
She stands thinking about her failed potion
While the child sings a little song!"
THE END...hey, at least it wasn't as long as the first one!!
Back with a bang...
Well, it's right in the middle of the CBSE Board Examinations and I'm blogging...
Weird but true. Anyway, my thanks to the people who actually take the trouble to read this. This time, I thought I'd introduce something other than poems..people must be sick of my poetry by now. Stay tuned...
Weird but true. Anyway, my thanks to the people who actually take the trouble to read this. This time, I thought I'd introduce something other than poems..people must be sick of my poetry by now. Stay tuned...
On a roll
That's what I am going to be from now on...now that I have the time to do so. I wanted this post to be something different. So, this post is going to be a review.
Gerald Durrell. Name strike a chord of recognition?
Well, for one thing, he was a world-famous conservationist. He worked to save several species from extinction. Another thing, he set up a famous zoo to showcase his collection of rare and exotic animals, brought up by him and his family. Third thing, he grew up in a tropical paradise of the name of Corfu, Greece.
Well, if it still doesn't strike anything. Then here goes...he wrote a series of wonderfully fresh and funny books highlighting the quirks of the animal as well as human world.
This review is about three books "My Family and Other Animals", "Birds, Beasts and Relatives" and "The Garden of the Gods"- all of them autobiographical.
In these books, Durrell sketches out the details of his early years spent in Corfu and provides amusing anecdotes of his long-suffering family members and pets. Featured, are Gerald's mother, Mrs. Durrell, his diet-obsessed sister Margo, his sarcastic brother Larry, his "ballistic" borther Leslie, his dog Roger and their driver-cum-friend-cum-odd jobs man Spiro. And I promise you, each of these books has the capability of sending you into peals of laughter. (continued...)
Gerald Durrell. Name strike a chord of recognition?
Well, for one thing, he was a world-famous conservationist. He worked to save several species from extinction. Another thing, he set up a famous zoo to showcase his collection of rare and exotic animals, brought up by him and his family. Third thing, he grew up in a tropical paradise of the name of Corfu, Greece.
Well, if it still doesn't strike anything. Then here goes...he wrote a series of wonderfully fresh and funny books highlighting the quirks of the animal as well as human world.
This review is about three books "My Family and Other Animals", "Birds, Beasts and Relatives" and "The Garden of the Gods"- all of them autobiographical.
In these books, Durrell sketches out the details of his early years spent in Corfu and provides amusing anecdotes of his long-suffering family members and pets. Featured, are Gerald's mother, Mrs. Durrell, his diet-obsessed sister Margo, his sarcastic brother Larry, his "ballistic" borther Leslie, his dog Roger and their driver-cum-friend-cum-odd jobs man Spiro. And I promise you, each of these books has the capability of sending you into peals of laughter. (continued...)
Continued
...The reader can instantly visualise the young boy, surrounded by his whimsical family. His pets, including a donkey, a turtle, several dogs, toads, owls, hedgehogs to name a few.
Durrell's writing style is what makes the books special. His knack of penning down just the right words to describe a heavenly location or narrating a comical incident is truly admirable.
I can say that I've had many happy hours reading these books and I can promise you the same if you decide to read them for yourself.
My favourite parts of the books: Margo's spiritualism, Larry's literary friends, the maid Lugaretzia, Mrs. Durrell's dog Dodo and Spiro's conversations.
Final verdict: Read it, read it..!!!
Durrell's writing style is what makes the books special. His knack of penning down just the right words to describe a heavenly location or narrating a comical incident is truly admirable.
I can say that I've had many happy hours reading these books and I can promise you the same if you decide to read them for yourself.
My favourite parts of the books: Margo's spiritualism, Larry's literary friends, the maid Lugaretzia, Mrs. Durrell's dog Dodo and Spiro's conversations.
Final verdict: Read it, read it..!!!
Modern Day Mirage by Anushya S.B.
Well, here's a story of mine.
I crossed Whitefield’s Chocolate Chip Cookies and went over to the Top Quality Mops and Brooms. I turned right into the next aisle, which contained the legends – Pure Detergent (One wash and totally Pure!), Citrus Toothpastes (Flavors that are out of this world! Peppermint Planet, Chocolate Comets and many more!!) and Knobb’s Instant Noodles (Spice up your life! Available in Chili, Lemon, Grass). I stopped in surprise and read the boards above the noodles again. It read- “(Available in Chilli, Lemongrass)” Oh! Now it made sense!
I carried forth my quest in the supermarket.
My best friend was turning fifteen the next day, a very special occasion that required a special gift. I knew J-Mart was the place to look. But, so far, I hadn’t found anything. I must have plagued at least a dozen salespeople, visited over a half a dozen counters and darted at least twice over all the aisles. The conversation nearby woke me up from the reverie I had fallen into, while worrying about this.
“Hello, Pooja! How are you, dear? Look…” an elderly lady said to a salesgirl standing a little way down the aisle. It struck me as odd. How many people are on such familiar terms with salesgirls in a giant supermarket?
The lady continued as the salesgirl smiled at her “…I’ve got another bracelet to add to that collection of your grandfather’s. A friend of mine was glad to donate it.”
They said their goodbyes and I realized it was time to wander aimlessly through another aisle. But the word “bracelet” seemed to hang in the air above me – Jewelry! Why hadn’t I thought of that? I went up to the salesgirl and spoke to her
“Excuse me, Pooja, right?” I said, noticing she was only a few years older than me.
“Yeah, how may I help you?” she asked me, smiling still.
“I…um…want to buy some jewelry as a gift for my friend and I heard you mention something…” I trailed off, aware that I was revealing that I had overheard.
She hesitated and immediately, I decided that there was something disturbing about the proposition and it was getting late, so I told her “Never mind…” and turned around.
“It’s alright! I don’t mind showing you…” she lowered her voice “…but as this is a semi-private collection, I must ask you to keep it a secret.”
“Ok! Your secret is safe with me. I’ll be as silent as…” I gabbled in happiness and followed her. She unlocked a door that said “Private. For Staff Only.” and a long staircase came into view. I walked up into the darkness as Pooja switched on the lights.
I stopped at the top of the staircase and gazed in wonder at the sight in front of me. Vast showcases and gleaming rosewood cabinets with shining glass doors were arranged in a circle. Some of them started to slowly swivel around on their bases. But what was really extraordinary was the glint and shimmer of gold and silver, along with the sparkling hues of precious and semi-precious gems. It seemed completely out-of-place in a supermarket. Then I began to have doubts about whether or not I could afford something from here.
“Pooja!” I called “Are you sure that these items are in my range of purchase?”
I crossed Whitefield’s Chocolate Chip Cookies and went over to the Top Quality Mops and Brooms. I turned right into the next aisle, which contained the legends – Pure Detergent (One wash and totally Pure!), Citrus Toothpastes (Flavors that are out of this world! Peppermint Planet, Chocolate Comets and many more!!) and Knobb’s Instant Noodles (Spice up your life! Available in Chili, Lemon, Grass). I stopped in surprise and read the boards above the noodles again. It read- “(Available in Chilli, Lemongrass)” Oh! Now it made sense!
I carried forth my quest in the supermarket.
My best friend was turning fifteen the next day, a very special occasion that required a special gift. I knew J-Mart was the place to look. But, so far, I hadn’t found anything. I must have plagued at least a dozen salespeople, visited over a half a dozen counters and darted at least twice over all the aisles. The conversation nearby woke me up from the reverie I had fallen into, while worrying about this.
“Hello, Pooja! How are you, dear? Look…” an elderly lady said to a salesgirl standing a little way down the aisle. It struck me as odd. How many people are on such familiar terms with salesgirls in a giant supermarket?
The lady continued as the salesgirl smiled at her “…I’ve got another bracelet to add to that collection of your grandfather’s. A friend of mine was glad to donate it.”
They said their goodbyes and I realized it was time to wander aimlessly through another aisle. But the word “bracelet” seemed to hang in the air above me – Jewelry! Why hadn’t I thought of that? I went up to the salesgirl and spoke to her
“Excuse me, Pooja, right?” I said, noticing she was only a few years older than me.
“Yeah, how may I help you?” she asked me, smiling still.
“I…um…want to buy some jewelry as a gift for my friend and I heard you mention something…” I trailed off, aware that I was revealing that I had overheard.
She hesitated and immediately, I decided that there was something disturbing about the proposition and it was getting late, so I told her “Never mind…” and turned around.
“It’s alright! I don’t mind showing you…” she lowered her voice “…but as this is a semi-private collection, I must ask you to keep it a secret.”
“Ok! Your secret is safe with me. I’ll be as silent as…” I gabbled in happiness and followed her. She unlocked a door that said “Private. For Staff Only.” and a long staircase came into view. I walked up into the darkness as Pooja switched on the lights.
I stopped at the top of the staircase and gazed in wonder at the sight in front of me. Vast showcases and gleaming rosewood cabinets with shining glass doors were arranged in a circle. Some of them started to slowly swivel around on their bases. But what was really extraordinary was the glint and shimmer of gold and silver, along with the sparkling hues of precious and semi-precious gems. It seemed completely out-of-place in a supermarket. Then I began to have doubts about whether or not I could afford something from here.
“Pooja!” I called “Are you sure that these items are in my range of purchase?”
Story continued...
“Don’t worry about that!” She replied and pushed a button on the wall. She spoke her name into the tiny speaker-button “Pooja Shah” and some of the cabinets opened as if by magic.
My eyes nearly dropped out of my head upon hearing her name.
Mr. Narang Shah, of the famous Shah family of industrialists, had been the innovator of the J-Mart chain of stores. Also, recently, the Shah family had been in the news for the reason that the prosperous Mr. Shah had gone missing both from private as well as public eye. In fact, the media stated, not a soul knew where he had gone or where his enormous fortune was. I stuttered “Are-are you Mr. Shah’s…?”
“…grand-daughter, yes!” she replied as she went around and examined the contents of the cabinets.
“Then, why are you working as a salesgirl?” I said, cringing as soon as it was said.
“Well, my grandfather came from very humble beginnings and started working as a salesperson. He believes that I, too, should work my way up the hierarchy here to truly understand the spirit of hard work.” She replied, looking surprised at herself for having blurted it out. She recovered and continued. “Come on, I’ll show you around. Gosh! Only twenty minutes till closing! Hurry up and choose.” She exclaimed, jolting me from my contemplation of the Shah mystery. “Price range?” she asked, crisply.
“Rs. 150-200, please.” I shrank while saying this because I was sure I would not be able to afford even a tiny ring from this magnificent array.
She picked out a beautiful old-gold bracelet with a rose petals theme and said “How about this? It has a flappable lid that makes it a watch when open and a bracelet when closed. Price- Rs. 175. Perfect!”
“Exactly! I’ll take it,” I agreed with alacrity.
She led me out and down the staircase, locking the door carefully when we came out into the aisle. Pooja and I kept conversing as we walked down to the billing counters on the first floor. As soon as the shelves came into view, I remembered that I had to buy a few things other than the gift- Spring Cola (my favorite soft drink) and a packet of cloves (for my mother). I picked them up and moved towards the counter.
As it was nearly closing time, there weren’t a lot of people waiting to get billed and I was billed immediately. Now comes the strange part.
The billing clerk looked at my list of items and looked at me. A strange look spread over his face- as if he knew something secretive. He looked at Pooja, who was standing beside me, while she directed a meaningful look back at him and smiled. What was going on?? He handed over the packet and my bill and said “Good luck! I’ll…I mean…well, you’ll see soon enough. I think you’re the first!” I was astonished at what he was saying. I decided that it was best to classify his words as babble and walked out. As I did so, the customary notice blared out from the sleek-looking speaker set in the corner of the store “The store closes in ten minutes. Please finish shopping and get your items billed at the nearest counter. Thank you.”
I went home, my mind’s cog-wheels turning round and round with my mental efforts. First, Pooja, the salesgirl, coming from such a famous family. The watch-cum-bracelet turned out to actually belong to Pooja’s famous grandmother (before I bought it, of course!) but was now being sold as a part of the supermarket’s items (which explained its low price) I remembered the billing clerk’s strange behavior and the gibberish he had spouted. What was that in aid of?
My eyes nearly dropped out of my head upon hearing her name.
Mr. Narang Shah, of the famous Shah family of industrialists, had been the innovator of the J-Mart chain of stores. Also, recently, the Shah family had been in the news for the reason that the prosperous Mr. Shah had gone missing both from private as well as public eye. In fact, the media stated, not a soul knew where he had gone or where his enormous fortune was. I stuttered “Are-are you Mr. Shah’s…?”
“…grand-daughter, yes!” she replied as she went around and examined the contents of the cabinets.
“Then, why are you working as a salesgirl?” I said, cringing as soon as it was said.
“Well, my grandfather came from very humble beginnings and started working as a salesperson. He believes that I, too, should work my way up the hierarchy here to truly understand the spirit of hard work.” She replied, looking surprised at herself for having blurted it out. She recovered and continued. “Come on, I’ll show you around. Gosh! Only twenty minutes till closing! Hurry up and choose.” She exclaimed, jolting me from my contemplation of the Shah mystery. “Price range?” she asked, crisply.
“Rs. 150-200, please.” I shrank while saying this because I was sure I would not be able to afford even a tiny ring from this magnificent array.
She picked out a beautiful old-gold bracelet with a rose petals theme and said “How about this? It has a flappable lid that makes it a watch when open and a bracelet when closed. Price- Rs. 175. Perfect!”
“Exactly! I’ll take it,” I agreed with alacrity.
She led me out and down the staircase, locking the door carefully when we came out into the aisle. Pooja and I kept conversing as we walked down to the billing counters on the first floor. As soon as the shelves came into view, I remembered that I had to buy a few things other than the gift- Spring Cola (my favorite soft drink) and a packet of cloves (for my mother). I picked them up and moved towards the counter.
As it was nearly closing time, there weren’t a lot of people waiting to get billed and I was billed immediately. Now comes the strange part.
The billing clerk looked at my list of items and looked at me. A strange look spread over his face- as if he knew something secretive. He looked at Pooja, who was standing beside me, while she directed a meaningful look back at him and smiled. What was going on?? He handed over the packet and my bill and said “Good luck! I’ll…I mean…well, you’ll see soon enough. I think you’re the first!” I was astonished at what he was saying. I decided that it was best to classify his words as babble and walked out. As I did so, the customary notice blared out from the sleek-looking speaker set in the corner of the store “The store closes in ten minutes. Please finish shopping and get your items billed at the nearest counter. Thank you.”
I went home, my mind’s cog-wheels turning round and round with my mental efforts. First, Pooja, the salesgirl, coming from such a famous family. The watch-cum-bracelet turned out to actually belong to Pooja’s famous grandmother (before I bought it, of course!) but was now being sold as a part of the supermarket’s items (which explained its low price) I remembered the billing clerk’s strange behavior and the gibberish he had spouted. What was that in aid of?
...
My sense of mystery and adventure was stirred at once. My recollection of what Pooja had told me, were interspersed with memories of the newspaper articles about the bizarre incident of Mr. Shah’s disappearance. Perhaps the billing clerk had reacted so due to his knowledge of the fact that this watch had once belonged to the Shah family. Pooja seemed to know him quite well. Were all these linked?
I forgot about the mystery until the next day.
------------X-------------
I enjoyed myself thoroughly at the birthday party and gave my friend the greatest pleasure by giving her the beautiful bracelet-cum-watch. But what happened as I was wrapping up the gift before the party is interesting.
The strange facts about the bracelet flew around in my head as I wrapped it carefully. While I was doing that, I knocked over the packet from the store and the can of soft drink fell down with a clattering sound, along with the bill which floated peacefully to the floor. As I picked them up with exasperation, my eyes were drawn to the bill. For, on the bill was a hastily scribbled message: “Park Bench, Ferns Park, 7:00 pm tomorrow”, it read.
The clerk! He must have written this baffling message. Was I supposed to go to the place myself? As I knew where the park was located and was feeling extremely bored at that moment, I decided to give it a try.
Being a paranoid individual by nature, I turned up extremely early and had to wait for about twenty minutes until the exact time. So, I decided to walk very slowly from the park entrance to the spot.
6:40 pm- Dreamt of solving the whole mystery behind Mr. Shah’s disappearance
6:45 pm- Remembered that the media had reported that Mr. Shah loved puzzles and brain games. What if the fortune had not disappeared but had been hidden by Mr. Shah himself to see who was worthy of it?? Anything was possible, the media stated, with such an eccentric man!
6:50 pm- Maybe he had been kidnapped and his fortune stolen?!
6:55 pm- Imprinted pattern of shoes so thoroughly by looking at them that I was sure I would definitely be able to recognize them if lost in a crowd of shoes. I spun a dreamy web of “maybes” and the more I thought of it, the quicker I assumed that this whole business was a link to finding Mr. Shah.
7:00 pm- At last!
Finding the actual spot didn’t take any time, for I knew there was only one (colossal) park bench in this particular park. The fiery sun was sinking behind the skyline as I walked, my shoes making a rhythmic “crunch” on the gravel of the park road. There was nothing and no one here yet. My disappointment was acute. I blamed my imaginative and impulsive nature for making a fool of me. After sticking around for another fifteen minutes, I decided to leave. I began to walk briskly towards the exit, angry with myself.
So absorbed was I, that I didn’t even notice a man walk past me. Inevitably, I crashed into him and was dismayed to see several items fall from the pockets of his dark jacket. Stammering an apology, I helped him pick them up as much as I could and handed them over to him. As I put my hand towards a package lying further away than the rest, I froze.
It was wrapped in newspaper and had a bill attached to it. I recognized the scrawl of the billing clerk’s immediately. My eyes grew as wide as saucers as I started to ask him “How did you…”
I forgot about the mystery until the next day.
------------X-------------
I enjoyed myself thoroughly at the birthday party and gave my friend the greatest pleasure by giving her the beautiful bracelet-cum-watch. But what happened as I was wrapping up the gift before the party is interesting.
The strange facts about the bracelet flew around in my head as I wrapped it carefully. While I was doing that, I knocked over the packet from the store and the can of soft drink fell down with a clattering sound, along with the bill which floated peacefully to the floor. As I picked them up with exasperation, my eyes were drawn to the bill. For, on the bill was a hastily scribbled message: “Park Bench, Ferns Park, 7:00 pm tomorrow”, it read.
The clerk! He must have written this baffling message. Was I supposed to go to the place myself? As I knew where the park was located and was feeling extremely bored at that moment, I decided to give it a try.
Being a paranoid individual by nature, I turned up extremely early and had to wait for about twenty minutes until the exact time. So, I decided to walk very slowly from the park entrance to the spot.
6:40 pm- Dreamt of solving the whole mystery behind Mr. Shah’s disappearance
6:45 pm- Remembered that the media had reported that Mr. Shah loved puzzles and brain games. What if the fortune had not disappeared but had been hidden by Mr. Shah himself to see who was worthy of it?? Anything was possible, the media stated, with such an eccentric man!
6:50 pm- Maybe he had been kidnapped and his fortune stolen?!
6:55 pm- Imprinted pattern of shoes so thoroughly by looking at them that I was sure I would definitely be able to recognize them if lost in a crowd of shoes. I spun a dreamy web of “maybes” and the more I thought of it, the quicker I assumed that this whole business was a link to finding Mr. Shah.
7:00 pm- At last!
Finding the actual spot didn’t take any time, for I knew there was only one (colossal) park bench in this particular park. The fiery sun was sinking behind the skyline as I walked, my shoes making a rhythmic “crunch” on the gravel of the park road. There was nothing and no one here yet. My disappointment was acute. I blamed my imaginative and impulsive nature for making a fool of me. After sticking around for another fifteen minutes, I decided to leave. I began to walk briskly towards the exit, angry with myself.
So absorbed was I, that I didn’t even notice a man walk past me. Inevitably, I crashed into him and was dismayed to see several items fall from the pockets of his dark jacket. Stammering an apology, I helped him pick them up as much as I could and handed them over to him. As I put my hand towards a package lying further away than the rest, I froze.
It was wrapped in newspaper and had a bill attached to it. I recognized the scrawl of the billing clerk’s immediately. My eyes grew as wide as saucers as I started to ask him “How did you…”
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