Friday, March 25, 2011

Fervenly in lonely Avonley

Page 1
In the lonely world
of Avonley, where the
streets are very dim,
There lives a ghost named
Fervenly, who many a time does a sin. When he was
a boy, a living, living boy,
a bad boy names Collin,
He was turned into a ghost
for all his wicked sins!
"Mice in the tea! Frogs in the bathtub! Lizards in the curds! EW!
Oh Fervenley, you are the worst
ghost I ever knew.

Why, please don't think I have finished
I continue on the next page hoo hoo hoo!

Page 2
So he lives in a toilet,
a public one that is, And
he is married to a ghost, a
ghost named Millizz! They
both scare people, scare them
to death. They scare you and scare
you till you just stop your breath.
So they're called "the spooky
couple". Though they're really
kind of lovable, as long as they
don't touch me. I'm feeling
like a devil, like my friend
Neville from Wizardry.
I feel a little creepy and a bit sleepy too.

"Gasp, sputter" EEEEOOOO!

Malini 2009
29 July 1856

The hill behind my house has a hole as small as a mouse.
A mouse couldn't fit in there and definitely not a bear.
But I know it is old because
I have seen pieces of gold and scraps and bits of hair!

There is a load of moss but not a bit of floss,
because no one had ever been there.
There are maniquins still fair,
of which many are in pairs.
And as I dig, I fins some rotten figs,
with the smell of pigs
and poo.

Finally I find something new,
a chest. And then my heart beats loudly
and I am tense, did you know?
For I am shivering my best.

Now I have to put my brain to the test,
to find out what is there in this STUPID CHEST!

Malini 2009

The play of our plants and global warming

In the early morning when no one is up
All the plants get out of bed,
and say to each other 'wassup'
Then they take a shower
under a leaf of dew
Some of them don't
but most of them do
They are now shiny and squeaky clean
They are all nice, but some are mean
Their flowers have a colour so deep and so sweet
and also a fragrance that you would like to eat!

But then us humans start our own work,
and the little plants cannot play with the Earth!
The humans just pollute so much, that one by one all
the plants turn into dust. So soon
you hear factories and electric plants
all of them chanting their own weird chants.
Then soon as you probably know
It will start to snow.

It is high time we STOP GLOBAL WARMING
So, PLEASE PLEASE let out the warning.

Malini 2009

Sunday, October 24, 2010

My grandparents

My best friends are my grandparents

Who are awesome and great

My best friends are my grandparents

Whose love is difficult to rate

My grandmother is so jolly and kind

I do not know what she is behind

My grandfather is quiet and watches cricket

When someone’s out, he shouts, “wicket!”

Both my grandparents, so awesome and great

Whose love is really difficult to rate.

Malini Siruguri (2010)


You and I are singing

And making people happy

Bhoopali, Yaman, Kaphi and Des

Now we are lighting up the place

We have learnt for many days

Alaap, thaan in many ways

Seven notes in Hindustani

Sa, re, ga, ma, pa, dha, ni

I have just one more thing to say…


Malini Siruguri (10 years)
Read out at Vasavi College of Music and Dance
Painting: Ragini Siruguri

To an ant

To an ant, my dining table would be the Grand Canyon,
and a big soft towel would look like a Banyan.
My plate would be like a football field
and a pot of plants would be a great crop yield.
A puddle of water would be a swimming pool
and my lap, a mountain, now isn't that cool?

An ant would travel from here to there,
from India to America and absolutely no fare!
Think of all the strange things an ant might see
To see a crumb of toast, how happy the ant would be!
It'll walk up to the crumb, boldly without fear,
Thinking to itself, boy, that food'll last me a year!

Copyright: Malini Siruguri 2010

A collection of poems by my daughter, Malini

I had to start this blog. Maloo writes a lot, and has been writing a poem every other day. She has a great imagination and the words too, and many a time, she sets music to her poems, and plays them on her keyboard, singing along.

Not having some of these skills myself, I feel very impressed by her work. Knowing that this could be a phase, I feel I must put them all in one place, and hence this blog.

I hope this is not a phase, and that she keeps writing/singing.

I will put up Maloo's poems as she writes them. Those of you who see them, happy reading!

Sadhana Ramchander