tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-65091472876642869362024-03-05T00:52:37.470-08:00Malini's poemsSadhana Ramchanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15991153093567162107noreply@blogger.comBlogger7125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6509147287664286936.post-27491952294180933222011-03-25T04:51:00.000-07:002011-03-25T05:00:38.733-07:00Fervenly in lonely Avonley<div><b>Page 1</b></div>In the lonely world<div>of Avonley, where the </div><div>streets are very dim,</div><div>There lives a ghost named</div><div>Fervenly, who many a time does a sin. When he was </div><div>a boy, a living, living boy,</div><div>a bad boy names Collin,</div><div>He was turned into a ghost</div><div>for all his wicked sins!</div><div>"Mice in the tea! Frogs in the bathtub! Lizards in the curds! EW! </div><div>Oh Fervenley, you are the worst</div><div>ghost I ever knew.</div><div><br /></div><div>Why, please don't think I have finished</div><div>I continue on the next page hoo hoo hoo!</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Page 2</b></div><div>So he lives in a toilet,</div><div>a public one that is, And</div><div>he is married to a ghost, a</div><div>ghost named Millizz! They </div><div>both scare people, scare them</div><div>to death. They scare you and scare </div><div>you till you just stop your breath.</div><div>So they're called "the spooky </div><div>couple". Though they're really</div><div>kind of lovable, as long as they</div><div>don't touch me. I'm feeling</div><div>like a devil, like my friend</div><div>Neville from Wizardry. </div><div>I feel a little creepy and a bit sleepy too.</div><div><br /></div><div>'CREEEEEAK' WHAT'S THAT?</div><div>"Gasp, sputter" EEEEOOOO!</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: right;">Malini 2009</div>Sadhana Ramchanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15991153093567162107noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6509147287664286936.post-52529760712349729582011-03-25T04:44:00.000-07:002011-03-25T04:50:46.432-07:0029 July 1856<div><br /></div><div>The hill behind my house has a hole as small as a mouse. </div><div>A mouse couldn't fit in there and definitely not a bear. </div><div>But I know it is old because </div><div>I have seen pieces of gold and scraps and bits of hair! </div><div><br /></div><div>There is a load of moss but not a bit of floss, </div><div>because no one had ever been there. </div><div>There are maniquins still fair, </div><div>of which many are in pairs. </div><div>And as I dig, I fins some rotten figs, </div><div>with the smell of pigs </div><div>and poo. </div><div><br /></div><div>Finally I find something new, </div><div>a chest. And then my heart beats loudly </div><div>and I am tense, did you know? </div><div>For I am shivering my best. </div><div><br /></div><div>Now I have to put my brain to the test, </div><div>to find out what is there in this STUPID CHEST!</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: right;">Malini 2009</div>Sadhana Ramchanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15991153093567162107noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6509147287664286936.post-23218222505169634762011-03-25T04:34:00.000-07:002011-03-25T04:42:10.138-07:00The play of our plants and global warming<div>In the early morning when no one is up</div><div>All the plants get out of bed,</div><div>and say to each other 'wassup'</div><div>Then they take a shower</div><div>under a leaf of dew</div><div>Some of them don't </div><div>but most of them do</div><div>They are now shiny and squeaky clean</div><div>They are all nice, but some are mean</div><div>Their flowers have a colour so deep and so sweet</div><div>and also a fragrance that you would like to eat!</div><div><br /></div><div>But then us humans start our own work,</div><div>and the little plants cannot play with the Earth!</div><div>The humans just pollute so much, that one by one all</div><div>the plants turn into dust. So soon</div><div>you hear factories and electric plants </div><div>all of them chanting their own weird chants.</div><div>Then soon as you probably know</div><div>It will start to snow.</div><div><br /></div><div>It is high time we STOP GLOBAL WARMING</div><div>So, PLEASE PLEASE let out the warning. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: right;">Malini 2009</div>Sadhana Ramchanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15991153093567162107noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6509147287664286936.post-25942804052430218892010-10-24T01:12:00.000-07:002010-10-24T01:13:46.386-07:00My grandparents<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">My best friends are my grandparents</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">Who are awesome and great</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">My best friends are my grandparents</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">Whose love is difficult to rate</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">My grandmother is so jolly and kind</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">I do not know what she is behind</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">My grandfather is quiet and watches cricket</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">When someone’s out, he shouts, “wicket!”</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">Both my grandparents, so awesome and great</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">Whose love is really difficult to rate.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Malini Siruguri</span> (2010)</p><p></p>Sadhana Ramchanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15991153093567162107noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6509147287664286936.post-14968108228584300142010-10-24T00:55:00.000-07:002010-10-24T01:11:56.582-07:00Music<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-Xa7CZuoQQVRmIfQGodRye6g1zmxADTGU0H4AKMCVWiX-pgKxH5I8CL5K1ME0dJGMkrO2RtNPEdYQiSRbq9l0LMvKzy1MnnfVAuJysb7uN_R1a4UzclGR2rKK2r-X4qTVFL_KxvUZjyo2/s1600/Ragini_painting.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 360px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-Xa7CZuoQQVRmIfQGodRye6g1zmxADTGU0H4AKMCVWiX-pgKxH5I8CL5K1ME0dJGMkrO2RtNPEdYQiSRbq9l0LMvKzy1MnnfVAuJysb7uN_R1a4UzclGR2rKK2r-X4qTVFL_KxvUZjyo2/s400/Ragini_painting.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531519673021191298" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">You and I are singing</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">And making people happy</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Bhoopali, Yaman, Kaphi and Des</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Now we are lighting up the place</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">We have learnt for many days</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Alaap, thaan in many ways</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Seven notes in Hindustani</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Sa, re, ga, ma, pa, dha, ni</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I have just one more thing to say…</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">MUSIC MAKES IT A HAPPY DAY!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Malini Siruguri (10 years)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Read out at Vasavi College of Music and Dance </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Painting: Ragini Siruguri</span></div>Sadhana Ramchanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15991153093567162107noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6509147287664286936.post-20927588188972989852010-10-24T00:35:00.001-07:002010-10-24T00:42:27.735-07:00To an antTo an ant, my dining table would be the Grand Canyon,<div>and a big soft towel would look like a Banyan.</div><div>My plate would be like a football field</div><div>and a pot of plants would be a great crop yield.</div><div>A puddle of water would be a swimming pool</div><div>and my lap, a mountain, now isn't that cool?</div><div><br /></div><div>An ant would travel from here to there,</div><div>from India to America and absolutely no fare!</div><div>Think of all the strange things an ant might see</div><div>To see a crumb of toast, how happy the ant would be!</div><div>It'll walk up to the crumb, boldly without fear,</div><div>Thinking to itself, boy, that food'll last me a year!</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Copyright: Malini Siruguri 2010</span></div>Sadhana Ramchanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15991153093567162107noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6509147287664286936.post-89902348725823624702010-10-24T00:24:00.000-07:002010-10-24T00:30:57.036-07:00A collection of poems by my daughter, MaliniI 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. <div><br /></div><div>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. <div><br /></div><div>I hope this is not a phase, and that she keeps writing/singing.</div><div><br /></div><div>I will put up Maloo's poems as she writes them. Those of you who see them, happy reading!</div><div><br /></div><div>Sadhana Ramchander </div></div>Sadhana Ramchanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15991153093567162107noreply@blogger.com0