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Annanya Gulia |
Annanya Gulia is a grade 12 student of Army Public
School, Noida. A former colleague of mine in Delhi, who is now Annanya’s
English teacher, drew my attention to the remarkable poetic gift of the young
girl. I would like to present one of the poems here.
Coming from a teenager who lives in
the heartless National Capital Region of India, this poem deserves a deep look.
The central theme is the value of lived experience over conventional success.
The young poet emphasises that marks and certificates, often seen as measures
of achievement, are not what endure. Instead, intangible qualities such as
kindness, resilience, curiosity, patience, courage, and the lessons from scars,
form the true wealth that she will carry forward. Superficial recognition is
not what she hankers after but a celebration of inner growth.
What struck me particularly is the
rich and vivid imagery employed in the poem. “No rolled-up mark sheets like
battle flags” underscores the exaggerated importance that society places on
school report cards. When the poet drinks “my resolve like black coffee,” there
is bitterness. But there is also strength as she captures the energy that comes
from persevering. What takes the cake is “Scars as maps.”
Emotionally, the poem inspires
courage and hope. Intellectually it challenges readers to rethink what counts
as success. For a student at the threshold of adulthood, this perspective is
both relatable and aspirational.
Let me not go on… Here is the poem.
I’ll Take These with Me
I will not carry grades in my fist,
No rolled-up mark sheets like battle flags.
Instead, I’ll take the way silence taught
me
To speak with kindness,
The way failure folded its cold arms
And made me warmer.
I’ll carry curiosity, raw and aching,
That made me ask why when others nodded,
That made me listen longer
Than the world had time for.
I’ll carry patience,
Not the kind that waits at traffic lights,
But the kind that waits for people
To become who they were meant to be.
I’ll carry the art of standing still
When storms ask me to run,
The grace of not knowing
Yet showing up like I do.
I’ll carry voices,
The ones that broke,
The ones that healed,
And the ones that were mine,
Trembling, yet still choosing to speak.
I’ll carry the taste of mornings
When I almost gave up
But drank my resolve like black coffee.
I’ll carry scars, not as proof of pain,
But as maps.
Maps of how I walked through fire
And didn’t forget my name.
Below is another poem of Annanya’s which appeared in
the Hindustan Times recently.
Both are quite impressive, coming as they do from a 12th grade student. They speak a bit of angst but also shine a light on the way forward.
ReplyDelete(My latest post: Fiction, non-fiction: Why I read what I read)
Glad to read about Annanya Gulia, Thanks for sharing her poems, powerful words.
ReplyDeleteHari OM
ReplyDeleteoh my... I do hope this young lady continues her poetry. These are both amazing. YAM xx