Work on time…hopefully

        Ruin-calamities shattered me…I was seated in a public transport vehicle as I travelled back to Nakuru. The voyage was long and tedious with no breaks and my stomach began to curl from within. I had an action packed weekend with no breaks as I awaited the new release of my favorite anime, Dragon ball super a phizz-whizzing story as the Roald Dahl would describe it.

    Though I felt incomplete as if I were forgetting something but it did not strike the gong yet for it the hols. A time to sit back and nullify all thoughts of homework. When we (my mom, my sister and I) had just arrived in Nakuru I thought about my adventures in Nairobi, it was a special day my aunt had just got married wishing her a happy wedded life.

    In Nakuru I woke up at 8 am every morning an aberration of my normal school life of waking up at 5am eyes closed as anew born baby blindsided by the ray that burst from the window panes. I just felt as if I was forgetting something what could it possibly be that hardened my heart to stone and the ache in my that withered and shriveled my sparkling notions.

    Abruptly from nowhere I here my mum’s phone ringing it is right there in front of me if only I could reach it but… it keeps going further away why? Then suddenly I am drowning in water. I immediately woke up and rushed to my computer to type an article. That was what was giving me an ache. Ruin-calamities. The week when we closed school a group of ‘writers’ were given an assignment , rather biased, to write articles over the hols and I happened to forget a liability in me that I have been trying to rid.

  

by kind permission

WHY THE PRESS?

WHY THE PRESS?

We are the people, who clear the mess,

When people are eager to hear,

To hear the cause of the stress,

And the final say about the peer.

Because we are the press who impress

We bring the curfew to peace,

We bring the true truth to you,

The truth of your life in a piece,

And everyone changes in a second or two.

Because we the press, we impress.

We do our best for you,

But you think it’s a waste of time,

A waste of time that you think is a crime,

But agree with me, our tips are new.

Because as the press we impress.

To stress on ‘why the press’,

We are the ones who impress.

by kind permission

The Curse of the Dump

The Curse of the Dump

I wince at the thought of having to brave the ever-present gloom that reigns there. The Dump is a strange and repulsive place, where people tend to bury the human spirit along with their refuse.

From the main road, the Dump looked like a prison. The perimeter was surrounded by an eight-foot chain-link with barbed-wire stretched tightly around the top of it. As I followed the slow procession of vehicles through the front gate, I noticed a man peeking through the blinds of a dirty office building. The building's tan exterior was peeling away, probably as a result of prolonged exposure to the toxic environment. Up on a hill overshadowing the recycling bins, there was another unsightly tan building. This one was twenty-five feet tall and draped with rusty sheet-metal. Trucks full of old furniture, brush, and tree limbs were unloaded inside of this building, for it contained the largest crushing machine on the premises. When activated, it made torturous scraping noises accompanied by splintering crackles. The old building looked like it had been rammed into at least a hundred times, and if it happened one more time, it would collapse taking every thing in it straight to hell.

The stench was unbearable. I pulled my shirt up over my nose to try and filter the bitter air. Moments later, I saw a rat fumbling around with a Mac Donald's bag. Weeds bordering the fence were littered with plastic wrappers, styrofoam cups, and other non-biodegradable materials. Polluted water that was seeping out of the dumpsters had formed stagnate puddles that were infested with thousands of tiny spasmodic worms. I wondered how that anyone could work in this foul environment and remain healthy, either physically or mentally.

People at the Dump all had the same blank expression on their faces, void of any emotion. They came in like robots, emptied their trash, and sped away as fast as possible without running someone over. A man with his pants not completely pulled up was crawling through a dumpster full of old washers and dryers. At one point he surfaced, paced back and forth furiously, and then dove back in. No one seemed to care, or even notice for that matter. A young man at the next bin over was throwing away black plastic bags full of roofing shingles. The reason I knew this is because one of the bags ripped open while he was hurling it into the dumpster. And the shingles caught my attention after just reading a sign that said, Absolutely no contractor or construction debris. Within minutes, a man wearing a coffee stained T-shirt and a hat bearing the Dump's company logo approached the young offender. He said, "Son, whatcha got in them bags?" The young man replied, "Just some old garbage." Knowing that the young man was lying, the employee with a sinister yellow grin said, "Them bags look awful heavy son. Are you sure you don't have any body parts in there?" I decided to leave the two men alone; after all, my task was finished.

In conclusion, the Dump is an eerie and malodorous place, where we tend to bury our spirit--our very humanity, along with our refuse. The Dump is a metaphor for death, a graveyard laden with the excess of society. The repulsive nature of the dump reminds us that one day we too will decompose and be recycled back into nature. Because we find this distasteful, we bury our true feelings behind a robotic nature. And after finally realizing that the curse of the Dump is creeping upon us, we run away to escape its infectious melancholy.

by kind permission

WHAT SEPARATES BRILLIANCE AND MEDIOCRITY

You may ask yourself what does it even mean to be brilliant, is it when the whole world is praising your golden talent? Is it having a Wikipedia article titled with your name? Or is it to believe in yourself and being bold enough for everyone to know?

For me , the key is to believe in yourself and loving  yourself for  who you are; not  the person  you desire  to be  , or  the  fake mask you  have applied . you don’t  have to try and fit in everywhere  and feel undeserved by attempting to validate yourself. Most importantly, you don’t need to be perfect, no one is! You are the best version of yourself the way nature designed you.

But what if I think that others don’t see the potential in me? What if I let the whole world look at my imperfections? And what if people  don’t  like  the real me, they only like  the perfect, projected  hero who is strong , never  does  anything  wrong  and  cares  for  everyone? If you encounter such feeble thoughts, unfortunately you think wrong.

The invisible barrier  of  mediocrity is in your  way , the  same  border  which  separates  the average Joe from the dazzling geniuses. You must first be who you really are, and do what you need to do in order to have what you really want. You can decide to follow the common route and lead a safe life the way everyone else does. On the contrary , you may take the road less traveled , go  through  various  ups  and downs,  and reach the top and  prove your  significance , but only  if  you are persistent  enough.

Mediocrity is the element holding you  back from expressing yourself, mediocrity is what is telling  you  to play it safe  and not risk it, mediocrity  is what is not letting you take your   next big  step  for  a journey of  a life  time. Remember  , your  success is not  a  destination , but  rather  a journey  with several , mysterious  twists  and turns.

On the  other  hand , to  be  brilliant is to work on weaknesses and  capitalizing them into  strengths , to be  brilliant is to  love  your  flaws and embrace them. To be brilliant is to believe that you can do things considered astronomical by the masses. Most importantly, to be brilliant is to let go of who you are supposed to be, not what the society demands you to be.

Do not forget that to your climb to the summit, you will face many struggles.

RULES EVERYWHERE

RULES EVERYWHERE

When was the last time you broke a rule? Likewise, how many rules do you follow in your day to day life? They are omnipresent, and whether you like it or not, you are always under the surveillance of a superior authority. Thereby, is it you who defines the rules, or do the rules define you?

What about a world without rules? Lets start with a place we are familiar with – a classroom. When a teacher asks a question do you politely raise your hand so that you will be selected, or blatantly blurt whatever comes first in your head? If it is the former, it’s probably because there is a rule that binds your conscience on your conduct. Just imagine if everyone screamed at the answer aloud whenever they wanted …. Chaotic, right?

If you are like most of the kids, you may deem that there are too many rules governing you. They are everywhere, starting from table manners to the rules of your favourite sport but without them nothing would fall into its place. You may yet be asking why they even exist, but the answer will only be revealed at its absence. Like many other things, they are almost always taken for granted.

Have you ever broken a sweat on thinking where would we be if no one ever followed a set of instructions? To live and function in a society, there must be a code of ethics. Breaking some of these would see little or no consequences, but you are certain to smell the prison bars if you try your luck with every rule you meet. The habit of obeying the small rules is what sets your moral resistance against the more crucial guidelines.

What about the saying “rules are meant to be broken?” there has always been the inner instinct of many to go against the flow. That is how they thrill themselves. No matter how necessary they may seem, there will always come a day when a commandment becomes obsolete. A good example would be how rapidly traditional rules are dissipating.

All in all , it  has quite often  been  that  you lose your  real  identity living in this  constricted  world. Even though it may seem that playing by the rules is safest way to go, you must not overlook the fact that real history is only created when rules are broken. I would like to end, with a quote from Adolf Hitler, who was a ruler himself – “if you don’t like a rule …. Just follow it….. Reach on the top ….. And change it.

Ambar Chakraborty

LET'S LIVE

Let it go ….

How many of us have been wronged or trespassed against?

Or had been bullied with no one to aid you?

Let it go ….

In one way, or another we have wronged someone else, may it be intentional or not.

However, it doesn’t matter how many times you have wronged someone else OR yourself because human beings are the only organisms capable of starting over.

Let it go ….

You can not live with bitterness for ever, you need to live happily , life is not a rehearsal but a real thing , live it to the fullest.

LOVE , THE GREATEST OF ALL

	Thu, 11 Oct 2018, 19:58

Love is a four lettered word that we all want, we work for it day and night. It's a word that we value the most and on the other hand still abuse it. Love is just it a matter of sitting together, it's not a matter of standing together, love is more than holding hands and hugging each other it's looking in the same direction. Love is authentically our obligation and collective responsibility to engender waves after waves that physically contacts the welkin and covers the cosmos that is the symbol of love. Love is independent of words, it's a much deeper meaning that should be explored and treasured. Love makes everything rosy but without it, it's like a garden with dead flowers. Since birth we respond to love, authentically we would feel safe in the impotent arms of our mom but insecure the vigorous arms of a man. We genuinely incline to confound and consider love to be an entity but genuinely it's a verb, love is felt and optically discerned in action and less in an entity. Love is just not the potency that opens the chamber of our heart but it additionally opens the secret that opens the secret of the entire macrocosm. Without love the whole world would be a graveyard. Just as Martin Luther puts it “Darkness cannot drive out darkness only light can, hatred cannot drive out hatred only love can. ” Come on guys go out there and just share your love because it's much more astronomically immense and more vigorous than you imagine. Authentically Albert Einstein said “love is the greatest teacher”. God has blurred our lips because of our languages but he fixates on our heart. Love takes us beyond your resoluteness and there is always hope if there  is genuine love. Just love selflessly and it would return one or the other day. We may all get together endeavoring to define it, but it's just an experience we can have because defining it is just imposes. Keep  loving yourself and your circumventions as one or the other day it will return.

by 

akash bhatt

Beautiful sunset

Beautiful sunset

This is life

UNPREDICTABLE WATERS- this is life

Life is no longer the same irretrievable jigsaw puzzle, I cannot solve it,  all is changing as I age.

Day by day everything had widened blurring my sight and enclosing my ears in darkness.

I bumped and fell every minute into my own dark shadow.

I was a mere machine controlled by my own, they told me to do it, But disapproved how I wanted to make it through those unpredictable waters whose tides always pulled me backward and downwards.

They wanted to help me, how? By cheating those narrow strings that twisted around each other to make the words “MIND”.

Those strings were narrow passages concentrated with confusion and dark blank thoughts. These thoughts became nightmares and deepened the wounds in my brain to become trenches in the trench warfare that worsened those days to become death days.

All  I knew was that the next step I would take was the “quit game “ option, I was no longer interested in the “new game” or “refresh” options they were too far to reach and I was too weak to stretch or just to keep the “never give up “ spirit.

Slowly and steadily my mind burned into the ashes and smog that  told me to give up , and that I was never in anyone’s mind  and in no one’s sight until the true me awoke from that long hibernation I was unaware of, I woke her up and distorted her sleep .

She was better than me and one day I asked her “how did you do it? “ and what she told me solved the riddle- like puzzle , she had told me as she smiled“ you have always known it, what you know is what I do , discover it yourself. “

The deep wounds in my mind slowly recovered; after all, there is no incurable wound and those narrow strings became thick twists of fine yarn that elongated with ‘DNA’, Discovered New Abilities.

My timid weak feet now took the liveliest steps to discover the new lands that had always been there.

All I had shed the red and tears that had drowned me into defeat before were now crumbles that were to be crushed and avoided , they were the stairs to hell but now , there was nothing that could now affect me because I had protected myself with a strong ozone layer that I call “ TALENT “.

Remember! The shell I use does not hide me from what’s out there, it enlarges and exposes me to the outside world with the help of taking opportunities, what I did to achieve success. Trial and failure is not what should put you down every time you try it should act as a stepping stone to move in front the path of success.

Done By Richa

A STRONG NEED FOR PEACE!

A STRONG NEED FOR PEACE!

Neither within nor outside

 Is our thirst for peace quenched.

Our hopes and smiles wither away,

 Our hearts run dry with endless burdens!

The dark shadows cast by

 Animosity, brutality, enmity, ferocity,

Block the rays of humanity

 From touching our benumbed souls!

We merely exist as living corpses,

 Deaf, dumb and blind

To our devilish-developing  atmosphere,

 Framing the horoscopes of our lives!

With a minute effort to erode

 The prisons that entrap harmony,

Will we freely fulfill our dreams

 Of seeing the dawn of peace again?

Composed by: Ritu Karania,

  Year 12

sea women

           

sea women

The work done by sea women is quite impressive.  These women dive in deep water with no breathing equipment’s just earn a living and it is very surprising to hear that these women are the chief owners in the Korean society.  They dive into the icy water thirteen meters deep about a hundred times a day.  Further still, the older women are the ones who dive deeper and it is quite remarkable that they donate a portion of their catch to aid in the repairs of the village schools.                                                                                               

 Despite all these, there are still issues that make this tradition disappear and not known.  Many other tourist attraction centres are coming up in the island thus overthrowing this hard work done by the sea women.  Younger women in this area choose to work in resort hotels and leave this work for the elders.  Last but not the least, most of the girls and women these days do not know how to swim and because of these reasons, sea women are slowly becoming very few and extinct.                                                                                                                                                                                Written by:             Kruti Dipak Patel

emptiness

Trees are the melodious songs, we hear in the  sky. We cut them down and manufacturer them  into paper, that we may write on them our emptiness.

Work on time…hopefully

Work on time…hopefully

        Ruin-calamities shattered me…I was seated in a public transport vehicle as I travelled back to Nakuru. The voyage was long and tedious with no breaks and my stomach began to curl from within. I had an action packed weekend with no breaks as I awaited the new release of my favorite anime, Dragon ball super a phizz-whizzing story as the Roald Dahl would describe it.

    Though I felt incomplete as if I were forgetting something but it did not strike the gong yet for it the hols. A time to sit back and nullify all thoughts of homework. When we (my mom, my sister and I) had just arrived in Nakuru I thought about my adventures in Nairobi, it was a special day my aunt had just got married wishing her a happy wedded life.

    In Nakuru I woke up at 8 am every morning an aberration of my normal school life of waking up at 5am eyes closed as anew born baby blindened by the ray that burst from the window panes. I just felt as if I was forgetting something what could it possibly be that hardened my heart to stone and the ache in my that withered and shriveled my sparkling notions.

    Abruptly from nowhere I here my mum’s phone ringing it is right there in front of me if only I could reach it but… it keeps going further away why? Then suddenly I am drowning in water. I immediately woke up and rushed to my computer to type an article. That was what was giving me an ache. Ruin-calamities. The week when we closed school a group of ‘writers’ were given an assignment , rather biased, to write articles over the hols and I happened to forget a liability in me that I have been trying to rid.

Flower

Life is  like a flower ,

they have no voice , but seems to produce a beautiful melody.
They have no eyes , but seem to look

Shine like a flower .

mystery

The clock ticked twelve mid night and the unusual, frightening noises could be heard again.  Sweat trickled down my face.  I knew this was bound to happen.  It had become like a normal routine.  I would hear them for some time and then all would return back to normal.

                                                                                                                                               

Unfortunately, this was the not the case this time.  A web of questions befuddled my mind.  This time, I could not figure out what was in store for me.  I stood up from my cozy bed and shuddered towards the living room.  Within a flutter of an eyelid, I could hear an indistinct hiss followed by a sharp scream.  This was really a hair-raising moment.  Shiver ran down my spine freezing my soul solid.    

                                                           

Petrified, I tip-toed towards the light switch right in front of me.  I raised my hand and I suddenly felt some tiny hands on my waist.  My heart pounded so fast against my chest.  I slowly turned and sighed a relief.  It was no one else but my daughter, Cherry!  “Mom… there is a weird a scary sound from the kitchen!” she cried.  I made a guess that there these sounds were probably the ones I always hear.  I carried her and gave her a ray of hope that everything is okay!

                                                                                                           

I then made my way towards the kitchen.  Fear had taken the better part of me but I still mustered courage to go on and find out what was going on.  Slowly and swiftly, I entered, making sure there was pin-drop silence.  The place was pitch-dark and I would barely see anything in front of me.  I switched on the lights and suddenly heard a utensil fall.  I abruptly turned and I could not believe what I saw.  My eyes almost popped out of their sockets when I saw my husband sweating and panting.  The refrigerator was wide open with surprisingly nothing much in it.  He stood there desperately looking for food and I was so shocked to find him in this state.  All kinds of utensils lay on the floor with peelings of bananas and watermelons.  I could not figure out what her was up to.               

I went next to him and his eyes glistened, he was on the verge of tears.  What is wrong? What was he doing hear in this state?  All these questions crisscrossed my mind.  He sat down and said, “I have some unusual disorder!  This makes me eat amazingly a lot.  I became so desperate for food.  This disorder is found in some people only and, unfortunately… I am one of them!”.  His lips quivered and he was trembling as tears rolled down his cheeks.  My mouth was left agape.  I sat down on the floor trying to understand this mystery that kept nagging my mind at that moment!                                                                                                                                             

                                                                                                            

Written by:                                                                                                                                 Kruti Dipak Patel

lessons learnt

            Colleagues and students, my life in the last ten years has been a strange one and I would like to share my experience and the lessons I learnt with you.  

                                 

  First and foremost, it was not that easy!  I encountered sleepless nights and exhausting days- with nothing much in return.  Sleeping on a moss-packed platform and pitch-dark surroundings, with fire as the only source of light at night was something no one amongst you would wish to experience.  Fear had always taken the better part of me, I had to think twice before stepping out to go look for food.  Further still, what we had could not actually be regarded as food.  Foul-tasting water and dried snakes. Yes, this was the awful and unpleasant life in the past.                                                                                            

Despite all the horrible and never-ending challenges, I faced, I did not give up.  I tried my best to provide for family and the rest.  I made sure they get food full of nutrients for they required energy to keep up with these devastating conditions.  I taught my wife how to treat drinking water but we could still not escape from the foul taste.  I grew penicillin so that I could aid people with bacterial infections but my efforts to do so went in vain.  There was a little girl who was very ill- suffering from pneumonia.  I sat next to her for hours trying to keep her warm and make her feel better but unfortunately I was not able to make the best out of it.   

                                                                                              I have so much more to tell you but for now I will say that this time- travelling experience taught me a lot.  Truly, as the adage says, “Experience is the best teacher”.  We are all lucky that we have all the basic needs we require, all the comfort and luxury but think of those who do not have this privilege to sleep on a comfy bed, eat their favorite dishes.  It is not easy!  This life I experienced taught me how to appreciate even the people without food and shelter.  How tough their life is and how hard they try to provide for their families.  We should not think that since we all have the comfort and what we need, the rest also do!  I hope you guys also learnt something and I wish you try to help the people without these privileges!                                                                                                                                                  

                                                                                                            Written by:

                                                                                                            Kruti Dipak Patel.

This is  home away from home. MELVIN JONES LIONS ACADEMY- NAKURU.

Great art work from MJLA student

Why You Don’t Matter.

Why You Don’t Matter.

All our lives we have been made to believe that our existence holds importance, that our problems are relevant and our contributions are not futile. But is this fact or mere self-assurance? You may consider me to be a cynic but think about it. Think of the billions of people who have lived, loved, worked and died on this planet.

 Do you care about them or their struggles or their beliefs? You don’t, neither do I, nor does anybody else. King or pauper, great or mediocre, their lives were plunged into oblivion.

I think that we have established that our lives don’t matter in the greater workings of the Universe yet I believe that no life is ordinary; you may think that I’m being self- contradictory but let me explain myself.

 It is true that a hundred years from now, no one will know your name, or care about your story (for everybody has one!). But you do, you are the hero of your own story. Maybe your achievements won’t change the fate of mankind but they will make you happy. Maybe the world won’t mourn at your tragedies but they will shape your life. 

So virtuous or vicious, gifted by excellence or cursed by mediocrity, nobody cares but you. The world may or may not acknowledge your beauty or your gifts but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t. To all those people who expect their trials and successes to hold relevance in others’ lives, you should know that you are the center of your universe not mine.

                                                                                        

  By Amara Kandimalla.

                                                                                           Year 12

OUR FINAL SAY!

          OUR FINAL SAY!

   Talking about the last days before we step out into an entire new galaxy! Back in the days when the future seemed as though it would never flash its truth upon us. A web of questions befuddling our mindset; "Is this reality?, Am i valiant enough to take a step into this cruel world?, Ready to fight, am i?"

   Here we are, pounding hearts eagerly waiting for the closet to unbolt. You encouraged us to fight, we did, no awaiting our final outcome. The past was a fairytale, was it? But was the future has in store for us is unknown. Journey full of obstacles but full of memories, never forgetten.

   Not a class, but a Family with the best ever class teacher(more like a father), Mr Manasse. Who took us through the worst of situations. A Family with a strong bond that made us feel encompassed as though in a chrysalis, with our siblings beside us in every step we took.

   With no more to argue about, we finally leave our second home with memories of a beautiful journey, and all we ask for, are your blessing, for a lovely future ahead. 

                   By: Ria Ramchandani and Kruti Patel(YEAR 11)

Courtesy of the school magazine