Classroom
Reading alone
Never makes a writer
It wasn’t too long ago that I started reading novels as a means to fight boredom off and to brush aside the monotony that drained me when I found nothing to engage with. It’s amazing how inanimate words written on papers can fill a million hearts flooding with emotions, leave a million cheeks wet with tears, and send a million more pulses racing through nerves. This beauty of literature is what holds the mind captive, drills fascination into the heart, and makes the eyes bulge out when thrills and suspense spiral into a climax. Little wonder why bookstores are flooded with people and libraries filled to the brim. But is that the end of the storyline? Is enthusiasm alone what drives the readers to go through the books or is there more to that?
It seems there is a sense of competition raging between a great many readers about how fast they can rush through a book. They chew novels upon novels, take their taste, spit them out, and move on to the next. They breeze through sentences, jump through passages, and leap through chapters, wondering if they can finish the book in a day or two. People skim through every single book that rests on the bookshelf as if they want to leave no stone unturned. But does that count when a reader turns a blind eye to all the new words and skips past the difficult phrases? Maybe it does if you want to remain an all-time reader, but that will never bring out the writer within you. It’s not difficult to see why. It is easier to tear on dead meat than to make your own kill. It’s sweet to taste the kernel but hard to crack the nutshell. It’s painless to follow footsteps but difficult to make your own. The pleasures of life are all barricaded.
That is what draws a line between an avid reader and a good author. Albert Einstein once remarked, “A mind that reads too much but thinks too little, falls into the lazy habit of thinking.” This is as true now as it was then. Books are not made just to be tasted but rather to be chewed, swallowed, and digested. The more you ingest, the better it counts. Why would we want to become a marksman who can take a dozen bullets to his chest but never zero in on his target? Why would we want a brain that has an expansive inlet but a narrowing outlet? Let’s not forget that turning every stone over doesn’t make us strong enough to lift a boulder. So don’t rush through the books as if the apocalypse is nearing in. Take your time. Dissect the passages. Scramble the words. Rearrange them. Fiddle with them as much as you can. And do it all over again until it etches in your mind. Become a single sun that blazes than a million stars that
twinkles.
Prasiddha Kandel
AS Level
Chelsea Int’l Academy
Friends
Friends are just simple people like you and I are, but they always mean everything to you. A small smile on their face brings a glow on your own face. You need them at all times, everywhere, in any case. Supporters are like stones, you can find them anywhere. But a good friend is like a diamond, which is very rare.
Friends are your backbone, they help and inspire you to aim high. Friends are like oxygen, you need them till you die. Not just this, a friend is someone more who means a lot to you. They are an empty vessel into which you can store everything you need to remember all day long, so that even if you forget, it slips off their tongue.
A friend is lot more as they know your every simple chore, hugs you, slaps you, and always wants you to smile. If you have a friend like this, never ever
lose them, because the tie of friendship, if not taken care of, becomes fragile.
Subina Shrestha
Class: 9
AVM Higher Secondary School
The Sun
The sun is high,
Near from the sky,
Please look down,
At this noisy town.
Buses and trains are everywhere,
So there is no silence anywhere,
The trees are decreasing and we are enjoying,
But the hardworking farmers are always crying.
Please stop this pollution,
And find its solution,
God please help us,
And help us avoid smoke in the bus.
The sun is high,
Near from the sky,
Please look down,
At this noisy town.
Ajapa Nepal
Class: 4
Gems
Helpless
I had been too innocent so long,
I never learned this world of thousand faces,
I never realised people would be so mean
The one I’m talking about is a horrid woman!
Who gave a squeal of fright, pushed her own child away,
When she had an idea, he was fighting a terrible disease.
I saw the whole scene helpless
I was so stuck-up and catty;
I had been so idiotic in the whole lot
My soul was crying and my heart too.
I stood there eyeing the overlooked child
I made my way towards home
I would like to question that mother,
How?
How could you ignore your own living blood?
Didn’t your soul cry when doing this?
The ceaseless battle you fought,
With pain and ill health
That weakness and that agony,
You suffered to bring that angel to this world,
It went just in vain, was just worthless
Pralisha Adhikari
Class: 10
LRI School
Posted on: 2012-02-10 10:31
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