Santa hates poor kids.

 ~ Sheikh Raisha Tabassum
“Santa must hate the poor kids.

Cause Santa only hangs with the rich, sing it.Santa hates poor kids, Santa hates poor kids.

And if you ain’t got money, then he ain’t coming. Nothing under your tree tonight!”

Hey readers, 

I guess you all are busy preparing for Christmas and New year! 

Dear boys and girls, 

Do you remember how exciting it was to wait for the Santa Claus and to unwrap the gift he brought for us?

Today my little sister has made a wish list of what she wants from Santa this Christmas. I’ll show it to you, wait!

Now you must be wondering ‘who is Forida?!’ Right? She is the daughter of our domestic help. She often comes to our place to play with my sister. 😊 Fariha wants Mr. Santa to give her Christmas present to Forida because she never got one in her life.

My sister is just a little kid of 10. And her tiny brain could conceive such a wonderful thought. 

I was going through the news feeds today on Facebook and one of my friends, Souvick Das posted a similar thing. 

Even the poorest of the poor wants to celebrate festivals and moments of joy. 

Recently a story became viral on INTERNET about the reply to the rich lady. 

“Didn’t you know Jesus, the Savior of mankind, was born in a five-star hotel?” 😎 πŸ˜›

So guys and girls, we all spend a lot of money on various things in our daily business. So spending 100 rupees more will not make a great difference but if we look at the poor person’s life, receiving that precious gift from you (SANTA) will bring million dollars happiness, smiling magical moments into his life. And he will say ~ 

WE LOVE YOU SANTA BECAUSE YOU LOVE ALL THE KIDS EQUALLY! β˜ƒπŸŽ„πŸŽŠπŸŽπŸ˜‰

Merry Christmas! 

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HysteriaΒ 

By Shaheeba Begum.

The princess of her own kingdom

She was made of her own foibles

The aesthete of every gusto of life

She knew, how to prettify every bit of it.

The rhythm of drip on someone’s face,

Synchronized with her every heartbeat.

A fragile glass heart she had,

In which flowed a river of wit.

Then it so happened, all of a sudden

Herself she was abducted from.

When the reverie broke, the gauze showed her

And the world took its loyal form.
But this loyalty broke her from within.

She then had to confront a world,

Which she had never ever seen.

The fake visages and the abhorring circumstances

Transformed the tranquil her into an abandoned one.

But losing hope wasn’t at all her intention
With the fibres of sorrow, a new fortune she had spun.
She was lonely but not alone,

Because she had her loneliness.

Nothing stayed with her to lose,

So she just had no stress.
She swallowed the tantrums

All at once!

From the bitterness of life,

She prepared the julep of it.

Her hysteria groomed her from within,

Her hysteria was tacit…

The Art of Writing.

By Sheikh Raisha Tabassum.

From writing A, B, C to forming words and sentences, we all have broken many nips and emptied many of our ink pots and cartridges. All of us write but under different circumstances.

We all write, write and write for three hours that too under great pressure. Of course that’s our exam time.

Some of us, whereas, maintain Diaries. And how nice it feels to share all our joys and happiness, important events from our common din with our ‘Dear Diary’.

We like posting latest photos, some with beautiful captions and hashtags. We even keep updating our status. This also is another way of writing. 

Sometimes we never know what feelings and emotions we clash inside our heart and mind, all we can see is a magical harmony of those feelings in the form of poems, stories, songs, etc. 

In one way or the order, we all are writers, we all are poets, lyricists, etc. We all ‘weave magic πŸ˜‰’ in different ways. We all are magicians. 

Art… Speaking is an art, walking gracefully is another form of art. When we dance, we create poetry of footsteps. When we learn to play the black and white keys of the piano, we learn to write a story with the chords and notes. And when we scribble our pen on the paper, we ink little lines dipped in emotions like love, joy, sorrow, anger, etc.

The Art of Writing is a precious gift that we have received. To quote Voltaire, “Writing is the painting of the voice,” I unquote.   

So express what you feel is correct. Express fearlessly what you feel is incorrect in the society. Express your feelings, if not publishing just write it in your diary , trust me you will love it! 

Paint flawlessly on your canvas of life. 

Paint the voice of your soul. 

😊