Wednesday, 26 November 2014

The Selfish Giant

The selfish giant is a story by Oscar Wilde,
the theme is about a giant, innocent children and a special child.
The giant had a huge garden,
Where the children would come and play,
But the giant was so foolish,
He didn’t let them stay.

After seven snowy years,
He saw that spring was back, and then he saw the children playing in a pack.
He went over there,
To say sorry,
But the children were scared and worried.
A small child crying under the tree,
Nobody heard his cry of plea.
The giant picked him up,
And asked him, “what’s up?”
The giant could see fear in his eyes,
He hugged him hard,
The child hugged him back
And thus, forgave him for his crimes.

They parted ways,
Years passed, it was all became a haze.
The giant searched
He looked for his friend
And years later he saw him perched on a bench.

The child smiled
Said, “Let’s go for a walk,
You’ve done good deeds,

Now let heaven give an old man what he needs.”

- Ragini Zutshi Anand

Sunday, 23 November 2014

Life stories #2

The moon was lit up. He stood there on the highway whimpering, she was standing really close - holding him as his shoulders shook. Her hair in a messy bun, his all over the place, you could hear the trucks roaring past. She was screaming at him, screaming at him to stop suppressing his tears, to just let go, to just cry. She said it's okay to cry, every normal person cries, specially when they lose their mom. She didn't say things that our society thought were "consoling" like "it's okay", or "it'll be fine", because she of all people knew better. It won't be okay. It won't be fine. It'll never be. It may get better, but you'll never get over losing someone you love. You won't forget the last words you said to them, the way they looked, the way they smelt. You just won't. You'll be happy and sad at the same time. You'll have friends but will still be lonely because family is family.

But she still tried. Tried her best to make him calm. Told him ,"it's okay. Cry as much as you want. But make sure, that once you stop, you don't shed a single tear because of this. It may be hard. It is very hard actually. But you have to." She was crying too. A drop at a time. But she was crying because she remembered her situation a couple of years back, how she was all alone, no one gave her any advice. She stopped soon though. 

They were now sitting on the edge of the highway. He was still sobbing, she was still holding him. The sun was up.

- Ragini Zutshi Anand

Monday, 17 November 2014

Life stories: #1

The story starts in a decade old house in the middle of a suburb, an argument between the parents and a mildly troubled teenager was taking place:
"I'm LEAVING! WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?!" said the irritated yet demanding girl. 

"The problem is." The mom sighed, looked down, her hair in a messy bun and eye make-up smudged. Slowly and steadily her shoulders started to shake. She was crying. 

The dad continued, "Ria the problem is, that we as parents, are..... concerned," there was a pause. "as to where you're going and with whom!" Her dad always remained calm and composed, no matter what Ria did. He knew she was a kid, and was bound to make mistakes. But what he overlooked was that she had already made enough, and this was time for change. She had to learn. 

"Papa, you're making a small issue into a very big deal. Just let me go!"

"No, and this is my final word." He got up to leave the room. 

Ria too got up to leave, but walking towards the main door, she screamed, "well, this is MY final word!" And just like that, she left, slamming the door behind her and taking all the fresh air with her.

Now, let’s reassess the situation. Ria the teenage daughter, wanted to go out with 2 other girls to a downtown pub. Being 17, she was a year short of the legal drinking age, but being a teenager with raging hormones, she wanted to break the rules too. 
Her parents gave her enough freedom, but it always seemed to fall short for her. 

So this is the story till now. 17 year old girl slammed the door on her parents face to go party.

Half way into the party, two bottles down. Her phone rang - an unknown number, the call that changed her life. 

It was from the police, asking her to come to her house as soon as possible. Tears started falling. First a drop, then another. And then a whole bucket. She started running, her friends behind her, screaming, asking what had happened. She wasn't being able to make a sound, barely even sob. So out of breath. 

Her parents had been killed. 

Going back to the phone call, the police concluded that there was an attempted robbery, parents obviously resisted, and the weapons used were a dagger for the mom and a gun for dad. Ruffle the dog was safe under the table. The neighbour had called the police when she heard loud screams, glass shattering and a blast. 

Home didn't seem like home anymore. It looked like a house, a building made of bricks and cement. But this house was different that others. Blood stains on the floor and walls, the parent’s lifeless bodies being taken away on a stretcher to the hospital, the police making calls, neighbours with the sympathetic faces
But it was now all a haze. All Ria remembered was that the last words she said to her parents were said in anger, used in an argument, and she would regret it throughout her life. 

She's now 26, living her life, though subdued. Seems to have learnt her lesson, Ria is responsibly independent, still having fun, missing her family but doing what she loves. 

Saturday, 15 November 2014

Party times

There was good food,
Hence a good mood.
Lingered on at the place,
There’s no denying it -
You could see it on every bodies face!

They looked happy,
Dancing around,
With kids,
Jumping out and about.

Stuffing their faces with wedding cake,
Standing around that lake.
For god’s sake,
With love it was baked.

Chairs and tables,
With loads of fables.

Those a few sad and many hilarious,
The one about Chunnu-Munnu falling from the horse.
The one very serious and a bit dangerous,
Golu falling from the top.

But unfortunately it all did end,
Everyone went back home,
To their dull and boring lives,
Don’t know how they’ll survive –
Without the Chunnus’ and Munnus’,
Without Mintis’.

Without the obsessive aunties’

And without the Pinkys’. 

- Ragini Zutshi Anand

Tuesday, 11 November 2014

My parents, my heroes.

They are the ones, 
who picked me up when I fell,
Opened the door late at night 
when I rang the bell.

Although they would scream their lungs out,
Just to get me up and about,
To start my day,
Quarrel with my brother but eventually have my way,

They love me with all their heart and soul.

That’s why they are my heroes.

Huh! Superman and batman can all take a rest,
As they all seemed to have failed the test
– because my parents are the best!

You may agree or disagree
Trying to prove your parents better,
But I have to say,
“Did your mom knit you a sweater?”
When she didn’t know how to
Or “did your dad bake you a cake for your birthday?”
When he didn’t know how to.
“Has your dad been dropping you to school every morning without fail?
Even when he’s unwell?”
Never wanting to miss a moment with you, and never putting you in a situation to face the teachers for being late?
Or “does your mom always wait eagerly for you to arrive?
Only to break into a jive?”

Your answers may vary,

But mine wont – my parents are still the best.

- Ragini Zutshi Anand
Love you mom and dad!

Saturday, 8 November 2014

One for the Trees

In spring you bloom and give birds a place to rest,
In summer you give travellers a reason for some zest.
In autumn you disguise yourself with golden, yellow and red,
And after a while, you shed.

And in the winter, you wait and wait for spring to be back,
That's how your life gets back on track!

The cycle starts again,
And the birds come back to make their nests.

But one day someone nasty cuts you from the roots,
And then you think your life has come to an end.

But wait, there's more!

A fruit fell down from your branch,
And ten years later, it grew up to be taller that you.

Its life story was just the same,
But when the nasty person came yet again,
The birds said to him,
"Don't you have ANY shame?!"

- Ragini Zutshi Anand

The green of the trees, the pink of the flowers, goes well with the winter season

Tuesday, 4 November 2014

Stay Safe.

Like an owl,
I stay up at night. 
Listen to the howl,
Wrap my blanket tight. 

These creatures foul, 
They can bite,
They will take you in 
At first sight. 

Stay away, at a good height,
Or you'll have to put up one hell of a fight. 

These demons will attack your soul,
So beware and climb up the pole. 

Fly away like a kite 
Into the city far from light,
Or these demons will catch up to you,

These demons will catch up.

- Ragini Zutshi Anand

Making this owl, I had NO clue what i was doing, making spiderwebs,
tears and clouds!