The Tree House Trouble

by Nidhi George

Grade 8

"Come on, come on! Hurry up!” I said, my 8 year old voice shrill with excitement.

“Be quiet, Sophie,” my mom shushed me, the bustling people in the airport not noticing. I spotted two women hugging out a tearful goodbye, and an airport staff member pushing an elderly man in a wheelchair. My mom was rifling through her purse for something, probably our passports, and my dad was talking to the person checking us in. My best friends, Olivia and Lizzie, were standing next to me, their parents close behind.

A few minutes later, we were strolling through the airport, trying to find gate A29. Security had been a breeze, and we still had 2 hours to kill before takeoff. If you are wondering why we were there so early, that’s because we had a 2 hour drive to the airport, and we ended up reaching there a little (an hour) earlier than we were supposed to. We finally found our gate, which was mostly empty. I collapsed into a seat, dropping my backpack on the floor next to my feet. I opened a paper bag that my mom got from the in-airport Starbucks, and pulled out a turkey and cheese croissant (my dinner for tonight). I sat there, eating my sandwich, Lizzie and Olivia playing rock-paper-scissors in the seats next to me. I watched them for a while, talking and laughing about random things. 

After an hour and a half, I heard an announcement. 

“Flight 8776 to Tennessee is now boarding. Section A first.”

I packed up my stuff and slung my backpack on my shoulders. We walked through the connector between the airport and the plane, and I cautiously stepped inside. It was smaller than I expected, but decent enough. I found my seat, and closed my eyes. I immediately fell asleep, and dreamed of the fun I was going to have in Tennessee. 

I felt a slight thump as the plane touched down on the runway. I loosened my grip on the armrests (I don’t love takeoff and landing) and sat up straight. My back cracked, and I looked around to see if anyone heard. I joined the excited chatter coming from Lizzie and Olivia.

A few minutes later, I joined the growing line in the aisle of the plane. We exited the airport and reached the parking lot, where we found our rental car. 

We eventually reached our AirBNB, the morning light streaming through the car windows. I hopped out of the car, and Olivia followed me. I ran around what seemed like a courtyard, and I went inside the enormous house.

I saw a bunch of wooden doors, and decided that they were probably bedrooms. I pushed open one of them to find room with open windows and an overhead fan turned on. A white canopy bed was in the middle of one wall, and a dresser with a small mirror was pushed up against a corner. I dropped the bags on the bed with a thump. I scrambled back outside and waved Lizzie and Olivia over. I showed them the rooms and they were as astonished as I was. We kept walking through the confusing hallways, and we discovered a lot of cool things inside. 

After a while, we headed outside. The light, cool breeze made for the perfect weather.

“We should check out the forest over there! It looks huge!” Lizzie pointed out. “̈What if there’s something cool?”

“Sure! We should ask first though,” I replied enthusiastically. 

We ran across the grass, our shoes slapping the dirt. The parents were sitting on the patio, lazing around drinking lemonade. I went up to my mom. 

“Can we go into that forest over there?” I asked hopefully. 

“Will you stick together? And be safe?” they asked.

I nodded as convincingly as possible. 

I went back to Lizzie and Olivia, and we trudged up to the forest. It was dark, and every tree looked the same.

After wandering through what seemed like miles of trees, we found a small wooden structure. It was atop the lowest branch of a sturdy looking tree, and there was a rope ladder attached to the bottom of the hole I supposed was a door. Lizzie, being the oldest, climbed up first, and surveyed the inside. 

“Come up!” she shouted from above. 

Olivia started climbing, and I followed closely at her heels. I pulled myself into the space, relaxing my practically nonexistent muscles. I looked around and saw two chairs with a table in between them. Another hole in the walls led to a small balcony. It was cozy, and I could imagine what it would look like with some redecorating. 

I heard a faint buzzing sound nearby, but waved it off as imaginary. A few minutes later, I heard the same sound, but amplified. I looked around the fort, then up. Apparently, Lizzie hadn’t done a complete check for danger when she first came up. There was a big, tan beehive in the bend of the ceiling, and it was flourishing with bees of all sizes. I screamed, and pointed upwards. Olivia joined my screams, and Lizzie started towards the entrance. I considered backing away slowly, but decided against it. The three of us scrambled down faster than you can say ‘beehive’, and completely ignored my mom’s rule about sticking together. We went in three opposite directions, not even noticing that we were apart. I don’t think I was even aware of my surroundings, I just knew that I had to get as far away as possible. What if the bees came for me? That was my only thought. 

I ran and ran, eventually stopping for air. My heart was beating triple speed, and I could feel its loud thumps in my chest. I spun around, and for the first time, realized I was alone. Breathing heavily, I sat down on a tree stump. I figured staying in one spot was the best thing to do. Hopefully, either Lizzie or Olivia would think otherwise and start searching. I picked up a dry leaf and crumpled it in my hand. I looked around, making sure there were no bees (or spiders or any other bug) in the vicinity. What was I supposed to do now? Look for Lizzie and Olivia? I didn’t think that was a smart thing to do. What if I got even more lost?

A few broken sticks later, I heard a familiar voice. 

“Sophie? Olivia?” Lizzie called. I shot up from my hunched over position.

“Lizzie?” I called back.

I saw her face pop out from behind a tree, and I sighed with relief. I ran to her side. 

“Where’s Olivia?” I asked. 

She shrugged. I drooped. We were still lost, even though we were together.

We kept walking, through trees, trees, and more trees. We called Olivia’s name as we walked. I lost track of time at some point, and we could’ve been going for hours for all I knew. Finally, I heard a timid voice from between the trees. 

“Lizzie? Sophie?” Olivia replied to our frantic calls. 

We ran to her. Her face was streaked with tears, and there was a speck of dirt on her cheek. I relaxed a little bit, then thought for a moment. 

“If we ran in three opposite directions, then we must have gone North, East, and West, or some other combination of directions,” I said. “The house must be South, or whatever direction we didn’t go in.”

“Ok, but how do we know which way that is?” Lizzie asked. 

“We go back to the bee-infested treehouse,” I responded confidently. 

“I think I know which way it is,” Olivia piped up. “It’s the same way that I got here.”

She started walking. I stepped a bunch of pinecones, snapping a fallen branch in the process. We hiked, dodging trees and hopping over stones. After many twists and turns, we finally approached the treehouse. Making sure not to climb up, I stood at the base of the tree. I turned around, trying to find a sound that could be coming from our parents. I heard very faint voices from up ahead. 

“Shhh,” I said. “I think I hear something.”

I closed my eyes and strained to locate the voices. I heard laughter on my left, and swiveled around. 

“That way,” I pointed. 

We wove between the trees, mud squishing under my sneakers. We emerged from the forest, and I spotted my dad instantly. I skipped down the hill, my feet skidding on the slippery grass. We strode towards the patio, and my mom waved at us. 

“How was it?” she asked. 

“We found a treehouse, and then everything went downhill from there,” I replied.

My mom raised her eyebrows skeptically. I could tell that she wanted to know more, but I wasn’t going to explain the whole thing to her at that moment, especially since we hadn’t stayed together as she had instructed.

It was a secret adventure that will remain with just the three of us.

 

 

My Princess

by Pavithra Nair

Grade 8

The woodpeckers had started sharing a tree. And the monarch butterflies were nowhere to be seen. There was an early arrival of the Snowy owl. The ground was filled with acorns. Nature was ready to welcome winter.

Here I am standing in the balcony enjoying the beauty of nature, when the wall on my left caught my attention. There were many pictures. One with a little girl and a young woman sitting, another with a teenage gal proudly showing off her trophy and one with my beautiful angel in her white gown standing with the man of her life.

Seeing this, brought tears to my eyes. How fast my little princess had grown up. From the first time she called me ‘mom’.. when she won her first competition…the happiness in her doe eyes…when she cried for a phone on her thirteenth birthday….when she called me ‘liar’ for the first time when I couldn’t fulfill her wish...and finally her wedding.

She is my most precious and valuable trophy which I have always treasured in my heart.

‘Wow…. Time flies really fast doesn’t it?’ I asked to myself.

Many things changed once I grew old; I needed her assistance for everything.  I grew to be a hindrance to her. She never told me, but I felt it. So I moved out from their lives and now I am on a journey to complete mine.

I did everything I could do for her… for my angel.. I lived my life for her…without expecting anything in return. But today I expect something. Just one call from my angel, because it is my 77^th birthday. And I will continue to expect that one call till I am on my death bed.

A tear rolled down my wrinkled face. I walked slowly and sat on my rocking chair. My eyes slowly closed, my breathing slowed down. I whispered to myself ‘my little princess’.

 

Fairy Grandmother

by Aaryan Totala

Grade 8

Today, I’ll discuss a very, very special person in our lives. GRANDMOTHERS!!

Firstly, I’ll make this clear that this is my point of view and I don’t think whatever I say will apply to everyone. So, don’t take anything seriously and enjoy yourself.

Honestly, I think that grandmothers are of only one type--sweet, loving, kind, and affectionate. They can be, of course, maternal and paternal. But you can’t differentiate between the two. But, the character of a grandmother can never be destroyed, because they will never stop loving their grandkids. Most authors have described a grandmother in the following ways - kind, gentle, sweet, hard-working, affectionate, gifted, wrinkled, extravagant, gray-haired. The list is endless because that’s how grandmas are. Their description is endless.

I guess authors never had a bad or awful experience with their grandmothers, neither did they ever know a bad, evil grandmother who tortured kids. They make sure not to ruin the grandmother’s character in their novel, because they know that their book will be a flop. So, they never dare to ruin a grandma’s character. I know there are a few books where grandmas portray the evil role, but in the end, it’s revealed how much they love their grandkids.

The role of a grandmother in a person’s life is very different than other people. A grandma is a gift for us which we take for granted.

Having a grandma is great because they bring a lot of joy in your life. Their love is always the same for you. It’ll never change. If you read English novels or Hindi novels, we always come across a grandma. Similarly, in real life too, wherever you go - India, England, the United States of America, Australia, or any other country, the love and affection grandmoms have for their grandchildren, is always the same. They love their grandkids even more than their kids! I know that’s not surprising at all!

The same thing happens with the kids. They love their grannies very much. I say not only grannies but both the grandparents. So much more than their parents! Even if grannies are angry and mad at their grandchildren (which I assure you is very rare and only happens if there is a serious mistake) they make up very quickly, come back to normal and kids and accept their mistake, which is unlikely when other adults like parents, uncles, aunts, and etcetera, scold them. I have never understood why that happens.

Our grandparents become younger staying with us. They enjoy themselves more with us grandkids way more than their kids.

If you read the word grandparents, grandfather, or grandmother, then you might notice the word grand. The word is attached because they are grand, which means they are special from everyone else and play a completely different role in your life. They love being grandparents, and it’s the most satisfying thing in their entire life.

If you ask me, then I’ll say that a grandmother is the sweetest person on EARTH!

I’ll take my grandmother as an example. She’s the sweetest person on earth. She’s the only person who’s never scolded me. I mean she must have some time, but I don’t even remember. She’s encouraged me to do stuff, like write this blog. I don’t want to brag, but my grandmother is seriously different from others.

People say that kids are a form of God, but they are wrong, it’s the grandmothers who are a form of God. I’d rather say, both grandparents are. Which means, I am calling everyone god!

Our bond with our grandparents is something we’d never understand. The bond is a gift to us for which we’ll be in debt forever.

 

 

One Sunset at a Time

by Sunita Raina

3rd year, University

 Iffat walked towards the window and threw open the silk curtain. It was almost time.

She looked at the maid and gave her a small nod. Instantly, melodious flute notes filled the tower top, vibrating through the walls of the stone-cold castle.

Iffat waited next to the open window.

A soft golden glow slowly travelled up and hit the whitewashed walls behind her. Soon after, a myriad of colours engulfed the room; scarlet red, violet and amber, reflecting in her eyes.

Iffat slowly began swaying with the music, her eyes closed. The flute kept increasing the tempo, and she twirled, keeping pace with its rhythm, until colours and music burst into a symphony so powerful the paintings in her room teared up.

The sunset reached its full glory; crimson red with honey splashes and bronze streaks painting the cold walls, while Iffat’s movements flowed smoothly, her long shadows cast against the room. The gold ornaments clinked out of tune, a heavy reminder of her duties towards the People.

She looked ethereal, a fragile fairy skipping into a cloud of sparkles.

A tear escaped the maid’s eyes. She loved Iffat dearly; having watched her grow under strict castle rules, she knew these few minutes of joy were precious to the young girl. But these stolen moments were also coming to an end.

The room turned dark. Blues and purples replaced the brighter colours, blurring the contours the dancing girl. As the music slowed down, Iffat swirled one last time, and dropped onto the soft carpet.

She laid there, panting, a smile playing on her lips.

She knew what would come next.

A light tap sounded at the door.

“Princess Iffat, the Queen requested for you to get dressed. Prince Khalil will arrive soon”, says a timid voice.

Iffat sighs and turns towards the now dark sky. ‘Goodbye’, she thinks achingly.

“Inform the Queen I shall join them shortly”, she says and gets up, removing her maiden clothes, and changing into the bride’s gown.

 

 

 

-Sunita Raina

 

 

 

 

From Asha's Desk

My most talented girls and boys,                

Welcome to Glow-Worms, a space that I created just for you. I am thrilled to see so many of you responding with such enthusiasm and sending in your writings for this first issue.

From the many conversations I have had with children and their parents, I have noted that many youngsters these days ‘hate’ writing. Yes, I understand. Writing those magazine articles for school assignments and exams about repeated topics like pollution, climate change, traffic jams, importance of exercise, littering…..those diary entries and informal letter, the same old story prompts and such, all in 120 words can be very boring and uninspiring. But do you know, that’s not just what real creative writing is all about. Writing is about expressing yourself, for which you don’t get a chance at school.

That’s exactly why I started Glow-Worms, so that you can just be yourself and pour your heart out. No one here is better or worse than the other. We are all equals in our creative passion and effort. And I value every word you write. Just make sure you write sincerely, considering every piece you write as an honest expression of yourself and a fond offering to your readers.

Very often, what we lack is motivation which we misunderstand as ‘lack of skill’ or ‘inability’. We lack confidence and we fear being judged by others. It’s time to change it all.

Let go of all your fears and jump into Glow-Worms. It’s a great way to let the world know that you write!

In the maiden issue of August, 2020, we have four each of lovely poems and short stories, two interesting articles and a book review. You also have ‘From Asha’s Desk’, which will be a regular feature.

I am planning to slowly expand this blog into a children’s magazine. Let me know what you would like to see in it. Your suggestions will be considered duly. Write in with your views and we can have a 'Letters' section too added.

And yes, don’t forget to subscribe to this blog. Subscribing to it will make sure you receive notification in your mail box when the blog is updated every month (or whenever I have some announcement to make). You can then share it with your friends and relations. It’s also a great way to read other young writers like you. You will see the subscribe button on the right side of the blog’s home page.

Keep writing. May the Muse be with you.

Looking forward to your future submissions,

She

by Avanthika P Satheeshan

When she was recognized to be a girl in the womb

Her relatives created whirls as in a mysterious tomb.

When she was born into this beautiful earth,

She was neglected from the day of her birth.

When she was restricted from going to school,

Her powerful tool was destroyed.

When the world gave her miseries,

She pushed herself for fast recoveries.

When she was winked at by the devil’s eye,

She blinked her eyes with the fear that she may die.

When she was haunted by the world of darkness,

She wanted to fight it with goodness.

When she was forcefully forcefully enslaved in marriage,

Her anguished soul cried in rage.

When he to slap her,

She dared to teach him a lesson within a snap.

When hands were raised against her,

They were bruised by her.

When voices surged against her like a wave,

Her voice was raised like that of a wave.

When the country ran to become rich, 

She ran to kill the country’s witch.

When people shouted development,

She shouted women empowerment.

When few listened to her sorrows,

She devised plans to unearth the evil in burrows.

When she won hearts of thousands

By her warrior like actions,

Many built barriers of enmity against her.

When she was asked to act like a numbskull

She proudly said,” I am a woman, not a puppet

I am a woman, part of the human race”

🔆

(Avanthika P Satheeshan is a grade 11 student in Nirmalamatha Central School, Trissur, Kerala. She is trained in Indian classical dance and her hobbies include sketching, writing and making scrapbooks. She has a huge collection of newspaper cuttings chronicling current affairs.)

Book Review

by Nidhi George

'Divergent' is a dystopian YA novel series by Veronica Roth. It focuses on a girl named Tris, who lives in a world divided into factions. She was born into the Abnegation faction (with the factions being Abnegation, Dauntless, Erudite, Amity, and Candor), but on her 16th birthday, she takes a test to help her decide what faction to join (or stay in). She gets a very special result, where she is an even mix of 3 different factions, therefore making her a Divergent.

Tris chooses to leave Abnegation to become a Dauntless. Once she gets there, she gets caught in a storm of unrest between factions, and she finds personal connections to the problems they are facing. 

I love this book because it’s a great mix of different genres, and the characters are well developed. The series is a trilogy, and the third book switches perspectives in each chapter, which helps you understand the story even better. Each book kept me on the edge of my seat, and I constantly wanted to know what happened next. This is a great read for kids and teens around ages 11-16.

🔆

(Nidhi George is a grade 8 student in Northshore Middle School, Hartland, Wisconsin. She is a voracious reader, plays violin with the Milwaukee Youth Symphony Orchestra and is a robotics enthusiast.)

Science, God and their Polarity

by Kanaka Pednekar

The world isn’t always black and white, it’s a million shades of grey, each hue defined relative to another. The human race in itself is a good example of it. We are all different and have our own opinions, thoughts and views of the world. This large spectrum of ideas cannot be judged as purely right or wrong. In order to avoid conflicts based on the difference of ideas and opinions and to coexist in peace with our own kind, understanding and accepting the intentions behind the ideas which spark these beliefs and opinions of others is needed. 

Yet, we struggle with it. We chain ourselves down to our differences.  

It’s no wonder then that things will move towards chaos than peace if effort is not taken to change it. One such example which has been creating conflicts between two groups of people for centuries and has persisted till the modern day is between facts and beliefs, that is, science and religion. Though we have progressed enough to not witness riots in our daily life and be able to practice both and coexist, there still lies a hint of hostility which needs to be eradicated.

 Some scientists don’t believe in the existence of God and yet they believe in our understanding of the structure of an atom, when it too is completely out of our visible sight. Our belief of its existence stems only from the conclusions made on the basis of inferences of experiments, with multiple loopholes. We even live on the chance or the probability of knowing the position of its electrons. It’s like saying we don’t exactly know where but we do know that it exists. Isn’t that the same as believing in God? Albert Einstein once proclaimed, “There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.” Even the gift of life itself is thought of as the manifestation of God. Yet, even this isn’t enough to convince people of God’s presence.

 When the question of the beginning of the universe is raised, the theist leaves it in the hands of God, while scientists are determined to explain it. That’s all well and good, but why is it that when everything is created from or of another, the universe itself came into being completely by itself, that is, it had no constituent actions which lead to its creation, or genesis, as it's called. How different is it from the belief that the common being holds of the universe being created by God? 

Nature, thought to be a creation of God, has been proved time and again to not be confined to the boxes that we try to categorize it into. We have tried to classify things which wouldn’t be factionalized. An example of this would be how after painstakingly crafting the five-kingdom classification, the Platypus confused biologists with its reptilian and bird-like features. Or, how even light keeps baffling scientists by being a wave and a particle… both at the same time! 

 Some say that it is energy that drives the living, others say it is the soul. But what is this energy, or even soul for that matter? If energy is known to exist all around us then why is it that organisms die without it? Why can’t a simple energy transfer be enough to revive them? And after seeking the right medical assistance, why, when even that fails, do the doctors themselves tell us that it now lies in the hands of the Almighty?  

Religion is nothing but dharma, and dharma means the right way of living. It’s devised for the benefit of people to live a life without conflicts, that is, to allow everyone to coexist in harmony. On the other hand, science bridges the gap between what we understand and what we don’t. It attempts to explain the unknown through the known with the futile hope of understanding the truth. It tries to solve the puzzle of our existence without having all the pieces. And isn’t that the beauty of it? 

It is these very contradictions amongst and between the ideas of science and of God which highlights their flaws but also brings new strengths to light. It portrays how polar opposite they are. 

And yet, maybe because of their differences, they seem to attract each other. In order to be able to explain our daily observations, we need science. Belief in God provides people hope and a source of faith. It gives them the solace of knowing that they are not alone and encourages them to live a loving and peaceful life. It is this polarity which makes people compete, judge, reprimand and therefore, flourish. It is the reason for the progression of these ideas.  

Religion was the invention of man and science is a constant discovery (then again, who’s to say that God too won’t be a discovery?) And yet, the path that appeals to us is ours to choose. The conflict arises due to a lack of acceptance. What we fail to understand is that both of them, science and the belief in God have arisen due to the natural inclination of human beings towards them. To question and ask for proof and to look for solace and a source to hinge our faith on is our human nature. 

Science requires an innate sense of curiosity. Curiosity is the thirst for knowledge and is the rightful reason we ask for an explanation. Lack of trust or ignorance is the other major reason which makes us challenge the explanation provided. While the former is beneficial, the latter is a toxic habit that may lead to our harm. Science should not be restricted to our beliefs, for there can be science in everything, if only one is curious enough to find it. The pursuit of science in the name of peace, progress and knowledge can be called the right way of going about it. In other words, the dharma of science is curiosity (and so should it be for humanity).  

As far as progress is concerned, science refuses to trust without tests of verification. While the concept of 'God' demands absolute faith which is then verified through tests (that are in the form of challenges in our life). Similarly religion dictates a code of conduct to be followed to become the ideal human being, that is, dharma . Though today, the interpretation of it is at a risk of being changed since its essence was long forgotten. Its ancient knowledge has been exploited and the morale of it, long left behind. At this point in time, a careful understanding of the ancient texts must be undertaken to ensure the recovery of its sacred soul. 

 Keeping all of this in mind, we can conclude that earlier, the conflict was between science and religion. Today, the times have changed and so have people’s mindsets. Now, the conflict lies not so much in the hostility among these two groups but more so in the individuals themselves. While earlier, one only had the binary choice of choosing one over the other, we are raised today with an equal influence of both, science and spirituality. This has made the surface seem calm while deep inside our minds, a tempest rages on. From a third perspective, it is a sign of evolution of humankind and although the times are turbulent, we can be sure that, this time too, we shall rise out of it, stronger than ever.

🔆

(Kanaka Pednekar is a grade 10 student in Nalanda Public School, Mumbai. Her core interest lies in science, viz. Physics and Chemistry. She enjoys writing poetry, prose and parodies of songs, apart from listening to music and painting.)

A Victim to Life

by Malini Tarakad Seshu

Why do people hurt? 

I don’t think satisfaction can be brought on

By seeing someone in pain.

I’m slowly losing faith in humanity.

We picture ourselves in chains, 

We think we’ll never be rescued,

We take drastic steps without much thought,

And affect the hopeful people similar to us.

They repeatedly insult us, 

Say things that we end up believing.

If you don’t love yourself, who will?

You don’t need anyone to support you,

You are a pillar of strength,

You cannot be hammered down,

You might not know it, but it’s true.

Maybe, bullying can’t be stopped.

Maybe, they won’t listen.

But maybe, we shouldn’t listen,

We shouldn’t let them affect our perspective,

Our unique perspective 

which the world doesn’t understand.

It doesn’t have to understand. 

Only we do.

🔆 

(Malini Tharakad Seshu is a grade 8 student in GEMS Our Own English High School, Dubai. Her hobbies include reading, singing and sketching.)