Stories By ' ANIMON RAPACHA'
The boy stood there,All alone in the midst,Gazing upon the sunrise,Where the cool breeze flipped his curly locks,Chirping of the bird could be heard,He had a kite and a dowel in his hand,The kite seemed to be an old fashioned one,He lifts the kite slowly,
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The boy stood in the middle of nowhere As the cool breeze flipped his curly locksGazing upon the sunrise, with a kite and spool Fighting the wind, fighting the friction
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My pre-board Grade X exams are now over, and I have been assiduously revising the topics for the final exams. Flashbacks keep appearing in my mind of a disastrous quake, floods and political blockade.
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