GEAR English Literature

  Dandelion  by Dishita Goel (21169) 11G

Bhoot Bangla by Mariya Hussain (21184) 11G The deafening sound of a cooker whistle cut through the stillness of the night like a knife...

The Unpretentious Paintbrush by Aryan Gupta (20166) 12G The canvas, the paints, the hand that holds me,   The child, the adult, the teen who holds me...

  Childhood Innocence By Pranav Satish (21170) 11G One day back then in the good old days when I was nine and the world was full of every imaginable kind of magnificent...

  Never More by Dhrupad Rishav (19148) grade 12 Never More Will there be any walking in the park...

  Lolly-pop! by Dhrupad Rishav (19148) 12th grade The baby screeched like an angry parrot...

  by Veda Arvind (20186) 11th Grade The ocean was more than a dream, Fish and creatures tickling my feet...

  by Vyoman Jain (20158) Grade 11 Waking up at sunrise, the learner prepares for the day...

  by Suhaani Vivek Gubbi (22077) Grade 9 Morning rays made their way through the slightly open curtains into the...

  by Aryan Gupta (20166) 11th Grade My little sister, As foxy as ever, Surely looks more adorable than...

  by Aishwarya Yeramilli (20121) 11th Grade The Lady in Red sits at her doorstep, humming the same tune everyday, a song so sweet it’s bound to...

  by Sai Pratyusha (21067) grade 10 I lay down with my head on the lush green grass, eyes trailing the...

Written by Aashaya Anand, 22006, 9G When I was five years old, I woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of my mother weeping next to me. She had her copy of Little Women in her hands. The next morning, she disappeared. She was not there next to me when I woke up. Her copy of Little Women occupied the space where she had once slept. I did not cry that day. I did not cry that day because I knew that wherever she went, she would be happier than she had been here. When I was sixteen years old, I read Little Women for the first time. Until then, I never quite understood why anyone would read a sad book willingly. But when I read Little Women for the first time, I was wonderstruck. *** I was twenty-one and seated on a rock at the shallow end of a stream. My jeans were rolled up to my calves and I was staring at the water running over my feet. Dense bushes encircled me. There was not a single person in sight. I was convinced it was the closest thing to paradise. I...

By Vyoman Jain (11G) & Prarthana Vasanth (12K)   Light was streaming in through the window.

By Aryan Gupta and Lakshana Mukundan It was around midnight when he called Amanda. It was a night overcast with clouds and a slight drizzle, the perfect and serene environment. She picked up the phone and seeing Dan’s name, she chuckled. But her chuckles stopped all of a sudden when she heard someone screaming

By   Keerthi Mahadevan (11G) & Aadi Abhyankar (12K) The castle was barely still standing. The empire that held eternal power and wealth was almost down on its knees. And then there it was, a sound as loud as thunder raged from the gods themselves. King Josiah Perkin was no more. The mighty throne was no more entitled to goodness. Evil had won. But this doesn't mean goodness had faded away. Though elusive in nature, strength always stood by it. There were only 3 that could bring it back into the open. All could be right in this godforsaken world again but the 3 were backed into 3 corners. Resultantly, only prayers, apart from screams, were heard for the next 14 years. Lillith looked across the window from king Josiah Perkin's room. Evil surely did win but what good was a noble and kind king when he did nothing but plunder his kingdom and his people into eternal wars, trading their lives for his power, their future for his triumphs. She had heard the stories, 3 mortals backed...

By Arusha Gomber (11MG) and Neeraja Janardhan (12K) Sitting here in this beautiful restaurant, wearing the best outfit I can possibly afford without having to dip into my college fund, I smile as I glance at my watch. Four more minutes till seven o’clock. Four more minutes until my dreams come true. Wishing the clock would tick faster, I lament over how four minutes seems like an eternity (thanks a bunch, Einstein!), before hastily consoling myself that in the grand scheme of things, these four minutes will mean nothing. Wait! I see someone headed this way. Ooooooh Lord! has the time finally arrived, is this the time, why is this so hard to believe? I just bend my head and start looking at my foot, drenched in enthusiasm and excitement. AHEM! AHEM! AHEM! I hear a voice from the side, my heart starts to pound, and my heartbeat is going 1,000 times faster than normal. I look up and… No way. No frigging way. What I see makes my heart sink faster than the Titanic. I had expected the m...

By Dhrupad Mahanta (12K) & Vyoman Jain (11G) “O hello Mister Buddhua!” the shopkeeper called, “What will you buy today? I have fresh catfish here, just for you!” Buddhua hated it when people called him with that name. It meant ‘dumbo’. His given first name was Gyanendramohan, ‘the wise one’, and he was not really stupid. But, by the time he had reached primary school, his friends, and soon, his family, neighbours, and shopkeepers started calling him ‘Buddhua’, relishing the irony to the fullest.

By Neeraja Janardhan (12K) & Aditya Chowdhary (11G) Humming at the music, Mia walked down the road until she reached her worst nightmare in seconds with everything going dark in front of her eyes. She woke up in the hospital the next morning with 20 stitches on her face. ‘Dear God’, Mia gasped. She looked at herself and said to no-one but herself that she was going to have a scar on her face, and it was going to look too horrible. But what happened yesterday? The last thing she recalled was walking down the road and then, boom! nothing.  ‘I feel strange,’ said Mia, ‘but I can’t point out the difference in particular.’ She couldn't tell whether the odd feeling was good or evil; in a state of uncertainty, she paid her bills and returned home. ‘Never mind about making coffee,’ Mia muttered. She decided to continue with her daily activities; cooking and playing with her dog Hazel and going to work. Work was a nightmare. Everyone kept commenting on the scar the stitches had left on ...

By Muskan Srivastava (12G) & Mehar Kohli (12K) 2019 Rouen, France My hair was all over the place by the time my shift was over. Realizing that the reruns of ‘How I Met Your Mother’ were starting in 30 minutes, I started dumping things in my bag, frustrated at the extra time this was taking. Phone-check. Wallet-check. Scarf-check. My chef ID for Renarde-Le Diner Gastronomique-check. Was I missing something? My thoughts and clothes were far too muddled to take in either the chiming bells of the Rouen Cathedral, their calm sonority easily surpassing the sounds of screaming children and quarrelling bakers alike, or how the city of Rouen astonishingly managed to look more beautiful each sunset. Sure, the scenic part of France enthralled me at first, when I first came from India as a culinary student. It still does, in fact. But now that I have lived here for almost a year, these aesthetic pleasures mingle with my distaste for the supposed elite customers at Renarde. How they would be...