You would cut us up for mere beauty?

She peered inquisitively through the bars of the cage. The next moment, she regretted it.

A scalding stab of fear seared through her soul with fervent intensity, and revulsion shot down her throat so swiftly that she almost gagged. What she had seen was a reminder of her own inexorable fate; an inexplicably terrible destiny to which she was inextricably bound.

The enclosure she shared with the dozen others of her kind reeked of vomit and faeces. The hands that reached into the cage never cleaned; they occasionally threw food callously into a bowl, but mostly, they would grab their next victim.

She’d never met her family, but would sometimes weave intricate imaginary pictures of them in her mind. No doubt they had met, or would shortly meet, the same agonizing end as all those born in the prison.

Loneliness permeated every crevice of the cage, draining its inhabitants of every emotion except the omnipresent dread, and wrenching them from hope and love. Making friends was next to useless. Nobody knew who would be chosen next by those malevolent hands.

One day, they chose her. Fingers gloved in plastic seized her, digging into her flesh ruthlessly and clutching her writhing, struggling form tightly.

Smouldering, poisonous black fluid was poured into her eyes, and she screamed in pain; blazing, all consuming pain that threatened to destroy her very existence. She kicked as hard as she could, but they wouldn’t let her go. Those hands gripped her unyieldingly as more fluid dripped into her eyes. This time it was so tremendously unbearable that she executed a sort of flying leap. A white-hot spasm of pain ran swiftly through her leg. It was broken. The hands still held the bone while she dangled precariously from it, terror ripping her heart mercilessly into shreds.

It wasn’t over yet. Fluid trickled steadily into her eyes and those hands held her as firmly as ever, turning a deaf ear to those cries. Her vision blurred with each venomous drop, and then suddenly, all was black.

But the sting continued to ravage her; and she wished feverishly that somebody would put her out of her suffering.

She was then thrown, alone and sightless; throbbing with overwhelming distress, and blazing with piercing despair, into another prison. She still lives, those wounds of misery and desolation coupled with her blindness and loneliness slowly but surely, snuffing her life out.

A few months later, a young woman runs a brush dipped in mascara along her lashes, and smiles in satisfaction at the mirror.

Her lashes are thick, dark and voluminous. That is all that matters. After all, what is the life of a rabbit worth?

Every year, thousands and thousands of innocent animals [ rabbits, mice, even dogs and cats] are mutilated, blinded and killed in laboratories where companies selling cosmetics perform horrifying and cruel experiments to test their products, despite the availability of more effective, cruel-free alternatives. Play a role in stopping this heinous and barbaric practice by boycotting the cosmetics marketed by these companies. For a complete list of companies that test on animals, visit the Peta website.

We can change the world around us by making wiser, kinder choices .Spread the message. Remember, millions of helpless creatures are counting on you in hope of a better tomorrow.

Malvika Parthasarthy
Cluny Convent School

Dreamy Safety-pin windows ! (Inspiration from the movie - Beautiful Mind)

Pins,
Polished with morbid malevolence
Sharpened with whets of wickedness
Prick with painful precision
First with callous apathy
Then with a mocking indulgence
Thrusting her
Firmly and resolutely
Into the murky echelons of despondency.
Pricking ceaselessly at her soul
With gritty determination
Unearthing those awful sores
Of inexplicable misery and dejection
Mercilessly mauling all bringers of hope
They jab on.
Even if she couldn’t heal
Those pin-pricked sores
Those sores flecked with evil intent,
Garnished with sinful slyness,
All was not quite so inexorable
For she could leap
With stealth and agility
Through the window
To worlds lying far beyond our own.
Worlds woven; intricately, exquisitely
With exotic imaginings
Bewitched into being
With enchanting lies
Into whose refuge she could flee
To escape those painful pricks
An ethereal wall of deception
Reinforced with tantalizing dreams
Shielding her from those pin induced twinges
Still attacking her with rhythmic regularity
More than you ever would know.
But she is safe for now
Amidst a labyrinth of lies
Lost in the mist of myriad worlds
The faint flicker of a smile plays upon her face.

Malvika Parthasarthy, Cluny Convent School

The PURR of ENCHANTMENT!

I met a cat
She had the loveliest fur
Spangled with streaks of enchantment
And possessing the most enticing purr
Eyes illumined with flecks of blue
Emanating an ethereal light,.
Unfathomably knowing and true

Love, brimming over with torrid intensity
Welled up inside me
Wiping out all traces of despondency
Had never been very fond of cats
But she was different
Who could resist that wet, tiny nose
That shimmered with nascent dew?
Or those eyes; tranquil oceans of insatiable hope?
Or that almost musical mew?

I wanted to give her a home
The diminutive bundle of fur and bewitchment
Couldn’t leave her there, all alone
That porcelain-doll fragility
Those soft, endearing cries
Reverberating with entrancing serenity
Picked the kitten up, held her my arms
Stroking that magic-flecked fleece
The gentle purring, the contented mews
Resonating like the rustle of restless leaves
As I shut my eyes in blissful oblivion.
I put her down, gave her a nudge
Pushed her away, couldn’t take her home
She was already owned by, or rather owned
Somebody else, never to be my own

It’s been weeks since the day
I first fell in love
With that feline of tantalizing unattainability
Now tucked away somewhere
In the archives of time
Drowned in the sea of daily humdrumness
Resurfacing with dwindling regularity
But she'll stay with me forever
The most imploring pair of eyes
Those bewitchingly beguiling waters of blue
That glimmered gleefully

With the thousand and one hues of the summer sky
Etched into my soul.

Malvika Parthasarthi, Cluny Convent School

The life and tender times of DEWEY!

‘Dewey’ is a witty, tender, true account of the life and times of Dewey Readmore Books, the library cat of Spencer, Iowa.

Crammed clumsily into the book drop box on a frost-bitten morning, this handsome gold-dusted kitten, then emaciated and tiny, was found and rescued by the author of this book and director of the library, Vicki Myron.

The library decided to adopt Dewey, little realizing that this decision would so profoundly impact the lives of the denizens of Spencer that this kitten would go on to become a symbol of hope, togetherness and love.

The cover page is enchanting. A cat possessing eyes flecked with smatterings of the loveliest hues of jade, cloaked in robust fur gleaming with orange magic, peers almost regally into the camera, and you know that this is no ordinary feline.

Plodding through the farm crisis of the 1980’s with a sense of purposelessness, the citizens of Spencer, a farming town in Iowa, had nearly lost their zest for survival. The closely knit community that had seen its members through thick and thin was slowly, but surely disintegrating. The library was nothing more than a warehouse where books were kept, that it, until the arrival of Dewey. People from all over Iowa begin to flock to the Spencer library to visit the Dew, and soon the library turns into a centre for integration, attracting old and young alike. Watching the oh so fascinating typewriter clicking away resolutely, or hitching a ride on the book cart, this tomcat had plenty to do at the library, not to mention his main duty of making each visitor feel appreciated and loved. The colossal library, with its tall shelves, comfy couches and thousands and thousands of books, was Dewey’s home for eighteen years.

This is a touching true story of a very special, loving cat, who not only captivated Spencer with purrs, leaps and rubs, but who also went on to change the world around him, one lap at a time.

Vicki Myron’s life underwent a metamorphosis; not a sudden or jerky one, but one inspired and sculpted out of the love, companionship and support of an inimitable and intelligent animal.

This adorable, yet knowing cat was written about in several articles published in newspapers all over the world, was featured in TV shows and movies, had people driving hundreds of miles to meet him, and attained worldwide fame and recognition, but remained an extraordinary cat. Not because he did extraordinary things, but because he was extraordinary.

In this book, the author describes the inexplicably intricate, yet simple bond she shared with Dewey beautifully, and the straightforward language further enhances the charm of the book. The silken corn-stalks of Iowa shimmer vibrantly, and the vivid descriptions of the rural Midwest are quaint.

Teetering precariously towards the all too predictable poignant conclusion, you never quite get there, because you realize that this story will never have an ending. This golden-orange cat continues to live in the hearts of all those whose lives have been touched by his warmth. Read ‘Dewey’ to smile, sob and grin. Read it to be amused, enthralled and touched.

You will fall in love with this tomcat’s endearing antics, his affectionate, amiable heart, his swashbuckling, happy-go-lucky attitude, and most of all, with the Dew himself.

Malvika, Cluny Convent High School