I Too Had a Love Story

Once upon a time, I fell in love,

But now I'm only falling apart.

I gave you all my heart,

And all you did was tore it up.

I'm sorry that I was such a fool,

I did not know that love could ever be so cruel.

Look into my eyes and you’ll see,

Those memories-sweet and sugary

That heavenly unforgettable time,

When your hand was on mine,

And those tough days that I went through,

When I had non except you,

You said “we make such an adorable pair”

And that you would never leave,

But you gave away the things you loved

And one of them was unknowingly me.

You had my heart with you; I have loved, but only a few.

“Sweetheart is it your fault or mine”,

Of course! I am not keeping fine.

I wish I could go back in time,

Back to where I had first met you.

I wish I had seen through your lies

I wish I had known the reason behind our fight

I could have been alert and chose the right.

But now I only carry a fake smile,

‘Cause I can't escape the pain inside,

I'm shattered, and I tremble at night.

Oh! So many nights I have spent, you and me apart

Crying myself to sleep,

Using all my strength,

To mend the broken pieces of my heart,

I realized, fairy tales always don’t have a happy ending, does it?

So yes! I’m not breaking,

I should keep going.

I should be strong, ‘Because life goes on’

Upasana Biswas

Ex-student (ICSE 2013)

Sordid tale of Gaza

Gaza and bloodshed have been synonymous. Bloodstained streets and torn up corpses being published every day on the news. But nothing seems to be fine with life there. Has humanity been lost into oblivion's curse? What's more shocking is, one in every five deaths is a child. Do they even understand what bombs are? Gaza and Palestine are burning... with human wails of anguish echoing in the air, poisoned by hatred. Hatred of Humans. For humans. A nineteen year old boy wrote on his social network page on the 13th of July that he could not fall asleep for a single night fearing when a bomb would finish his home and family.

He ate in fear. He roamed around inside the house in fear. High schools have been shut down and his life had no hope. On the 15th of July, his apprehensions proved true. His home was bombed. Into ashes. The last post of his social network page remained with a few comments of consolation and hope from friends from around the world. They all were proved wrong. Humanity is being proved a joke every single day in Gaza.

The sky is grey with the smoke of the bomber planes and the streets are scarlet with human blood. There is no other colour left in that part of the world now. A little boy was shot dead and the last five words he uttered when the gun was pointed at him were, "I'm going to tell God everything."

By Aryani Banerjee

Ex-student (ISC 2006) & Author of the book Little Longer Than Forever.

St. Paul’s Boarding & Day School conducts ‘Bengali elocution contest’

Dishari Chakraborty

Class 9 Sec A

The words of Tagore recited by a student of Class XII echoed in the hall, announced the inauguration of the Bengali Elocution of St. Paul’s Boarding & Day School on 23rd June, 2014. The competition was divided into 4 groups- Class IV - VI, Class VII-VIII, and Class IX-X & Class XI & XII. As the inauguration was declared, the competetents all sat with their back straight. All tried to take a glance of the poem. The judges’ names were announced. The hall burst into a round of applause. The judges walked down to take their seats. The sheets were given to each of them by the coordinating students. There were 32 participants in total. 1 from each of the four houses- Churchill(Green), Gandhi(Red), Kennedy(Blue) & Tagore(Yellow) and 4 students from each class. Gradually, all were called for delivering there poems. The words of the poets like Tagore, Sunil Gangopadhyay, Subodh Sarkar, Nazrul and many others echoed in the hall. Every participants performed a mind blowing performance, which could be well understood by the thunder of applause by the entire hall. When all were done with their performances, it was really a tough time for the audience as well as the participants. The coordinators were seen counting the results. All sat with crossed fingers. All desired of securing the first position in the contest, as these would add to their house points. And finally when they were done, a pin drop silence prevailed in the hall. After the results were all, declared and the certificates were awarded to each of them, again the whole hall burst with the rounds of applause. And then the final house positions were declared. In the first position was secured by-Churchill House, second position- Gandhi House, third position- Tagore House, fourth position- Kennedy House. One of the judges said a fabulous speech declaring the end of the program.

A Day Light's Dream

Natasha Ahmed

Class 10 Sec A

I was aroused suddenly from sleep. The night was intensely dark and quiet. I felt that there was someone else in the room. I tried to switch on the light, but my wrist was seized……….

And at once I knew it was him.

The little moonlight that strayed in from somewhere made him look like the perfect sculpture ever. His eyes were down, with a deep touch of dismay. A long silence bore down between us, sometimes interrupted by the heavy rustle of grass. I kept staring at his face, and he fixed his gaze on the floor. His lips twitched a bit at the corners, and he finally began, “It’s hard for me to do this, terribly hard, but I’m persevering this time.” He let out a sigh.

Moving his eyes towards the edge of my bed, he couldn't withhold his chuckle, “You‘re reading this again?” He raised his brows. There, at the edge of my bed laid carelessly my torn legacy of “The Notebook.”

“Yeah.. Um, I jus- I just cannot go on without it.”

“It’s good that you think of going on.”

“Just trying to be a little Optimistic..” my voice broke at the last word.

“I think I should leave now. It’s almost dawn .”

He advanced towards the balcony, ready to leave. I couldn't help but say, “Are you coming back again?”

He turned to look at me, a heavy look of grief on his face.

“No” he said. And then he was nowhere.

I sat there on my bed, in dim moonlight, breathing in the scent he had left behind… The coming back of Soviets to power, achievements of the big ideas of the Czechs, the political disturbance at Budapest, today had caused my love, refugee from Communist Hungary, to come meet me for the last time. He had just announced his departure forever.

Silent tears rolled down my cheeks, and I looked at my wrist which had been under his hold a few minutes ago, the feelings still not very comprehensible. But there was one thing , which I was totally certain of now…

“No more hallucination. No more pills.”

Abstract Immortalities

I look at the random frames on the wall,
Each of them a different story in itself;

The feminine silhouettes come alive,

In the melancholic nights of insomnia.

I wonder staring at them for hours,

What if they really come to life someday?

Their sketched edges with new breathing cells, 

I move into a trance finding adjectives in my mind.

The scarlet hue of the wall...

Reminds me of that dark dusk,

When I failed to find any left-over colour in the paint tube

And given life to my canvas with blood.

As it oozed out of the tip of my right thumb,

I drew abstract lines that turned blackish red in a while.

Very wisely they have said...

To create something,

You have to destroy yourself.

I'm waiting for the night when...

I fall asleep somehow,

And the mysterious silhouettes wake up.

Someday I too shall become immortal,

In a frame like that on some wall;

Only to wake up on nights when...

The rest of the world is lost in slumber.

By Aryani Banerjee

Ex-Student (ISC 2006) & Author of the book Little Longer Than Forever.