Building Bridges

by. Aritra Mullick (Abu Dhabi Indian School)

Through the shady meadows, where the weeds never grow

Where the sun shines perfectly, without the cawing of a crow,

A land of beauty, a land of mystique, where all goes right

Where lives were happy, and futures seemed bright.

Such was the essence of the magical Land

Where nothing went wrong, all was joyous and grand. 

But it had one folly, this land spectacular and great, 

Just one reason; but it was enough to hate.


Past the jungle the seven seas, it was truly impossible to reach, 

For all those in land so far away, its dazzling shores could never be breached..

They onle heard of its lores, and charming tales 

As they could but only hope of one day setting sails

For it was too far away for even the commoner's majestic ships-

So far away, that even a Titanic was bound to sink

And the mystical land revelled in all its home grown glory.

For they were selfish about their land, as it was their own story,

One that only they could write, one whose plot was decided by them.


Until one day, one soul of goodness slept, and soon he dreamt

That the land of mystique would not remain forlorn and lonely.

It would be a basket of types of people, and yet would remain homely

For in his dream he saw himself placing stone upon stone-

He worked hard, as he built till he was tired to the bone.

The sun rose, and then it set, as the seasons went by,

Until finally it was dine-a bridge so majestic and high

For all to travel, past the jungles and seven seas.

Past the winds that raged- from thunderous tornadoes to a light breeze


Now the commoners didn't need their majestic ships.

They decided to name it the Titanic-the bridge that would never sink

And voila! The job was done, for there it was!

For people to travel, and make the journey without a fuss,

To Utopia that was far, and seemingly impossible to reach,

For all those in Land far away, it's dazzling shores could now be breached.








Building Bridges

by. Malavika Pavothil (JSS International School)

We build one too many walls

And never enough bridges.

Unearthing all ego

From molehills to ridges.


We claim the skies as ours

And land oft ne’er spared

For in the end no mortal

Is left- all undeclared.


Disliking built in time

Barriers kept the distance

Yet nix a soul in sight

In all of pride’s existence.


What must we do now?

I’ll repeat the obvious:

“BUILD BACK OUR BRIDGES! “

For harmony- like Orpheus.


Humanity soon got to work

With not much time in hands

A lifetimes connection and hardship,

Bound to understand.


But the one problem with us, “simians”

Or so we called ourselves that,

Looked into ones true colors

‘‘Twas merely the cold hard fact.


We build one too many walls

And never enough bridges.

Unearthing all ego

From molehills to ridges.