Teenage love

Songs of love, written in profusion

All those lovelorn babes, lost in confusion.

Since that mystic age of sixteen

I’ve scorned what is and has been.

A convention-this melancholy prose.

I long to experience, for a chance to oppose

This fixed notion that love is serious.

Even when real, more so when spurious

Tell me, why does one fall in love, and not rise?

Why not smiles on happy faces, but tears in eyes?

And why is the delicate attracted to the rough

facts of life, I just can’t appreciate enough?

Girls who talk intelligently of Keats

I’ve seen reduced to a state of jellied knees

when confronted with worldly boys

with angelic faces but spinning devious ploys.

Even when the case is opposite

and the boy is just as much a flower

the attraction still remains a suspense to me

to understand, I can’t find it in my power

Those blushing maidens with their sighs,

those squirming youths fiddling with ties

This coyness, how my patience it tries

because mystery over, the supposed true love just dies

Why is teenage love so fickle and shallow?

They say, "When you fall in it, you’ll know."

Their sentimental smiles make me sick

Because I know it’ll take a lot to make me tick.

— Divya Kaushik

Free from pollution

Air is up,

Air is down,

Air is all around,

But there is pollution,

Which needs instant solution,

Gases from petrol,

Coal ash from coal,

Bacteria in the air,

Virus everywhere.

The atmosphere cries,

Where does God lie,

To free it from pollution,

Purity is the only solution.

We must all think,

of reaching this goal.

— Sahil Sekhr