Mindspark 2025 - Beautiful Chaos

As the Senior Editorial Team, we’re beyond excited to present this year’s very first edition of the Mindspark, a space where imagination runs free and ideas take shape in unexpected ways. This edition, titled “Beautiful Chaos” embraces creativity in its rawest form: the kind that grows from uncertainty, curiosity, and the courage to try something new. Beautiful Chaos reminds us that even amidst the confusion and unpredictability of life, creativity, potential, and growth continue to flourish. Chaos, after all, is not merely disorder; it is the starting point of discovery. "Art is chaos taking shape." - Pablo Picasso These words beautifully capture the heart of this edition. In many ways, that is what Mindspark represents, a canvas where the chaos of thoughts, emotions, and experiences takes form through creativity. Behind every story, article, poem, artwork and photograph lies a moment of uncertainty, a flash of inspiration, or a spark born from confusion. It is through these moments that ideas begin to take shape and meaning emerges. Like art, our school life too is filled with imperfections, challenges, and bursts of color that, when seen together, create something truly beautiful. The following pages are filled with the voices and visions of the school community: students who had the courage to seek meaning and those who had turned their experiences into words, art and ideas. Every contribution is a personal vision on how to accept chaos boldly, see beauty in imperfection, and transform chaos into inspiration. This edition of the Mindspark is not simply a collection of imaginative pieces, but proof that in every twist and turn, there is something to learn, to create and to uncover. We extend our heartfelt thanks to everyone who contributed to this edition and to you, dear reader, for joining us on this journey. May you find inspiration here to embrace your own beautiful chaos and create new possibilities. We hope you enjoy this edition! ~ The Editorial Team Editor’s Note

Poetry Articles Stories Artwork Photography Videos Credits 4-17 18-29 30-50 51-69 70-72 73-74 75-76 Table of Contents

Poetry

Beautiful Chaos Life is chaos You think it is a loss You are wrong It makes us strong You must be faithful Then you’ll be grateful You can fix problems And turn them into blossoms Aazeen Fatima 4A

Beautiful Chaos The love, the life, that beautiful sight. They play, they slay, sometimes obey. Sometimes quiet, sometimes fight. They laugh, they cry, sometimes shy. Sometimes sweet, they are a treat. They care, they scare, but always there. They hug, they kiss, the purest bliss. They are pure, my cure for every pain I endure. They are smart, sometimes not. They are the shoulders when in need; they are soldiers indeed. They stumble, they fumble, but always stay humble. The truth they tell, with confidence they dwell. They are weak but strong; they are tiny and whiny. They don’t care if not polite, they always dare to be upright. Little humans in my home, the tiny little storm. I see across their eyes, beautiful chaos in sight. They grow, they glow, with life they flow. But little did they know, they were and are my beautiful, sweet chaos. Mohammed Izaan Khan 1B

Kintsugi Some days I laugh, some days I cry Some dreams take off, some never fly. I trip, I fall, I lose my way Yet somehow, make it through the day. The clock keeps ticking, life won’t wait I rush through doors, already late. Deadlines, noise, a crowded mind Answers I seek but never find. Each failed attempt, each broken plan Still taught me more than calmness can. Headphones in, the world turned low Just me and thoughts, I never show. For every storm, that shook my ground A stronger version of me was found. Life isn’t neat, it twists it bends It breaks, it heals, it never ends. If life’s not smooth, I’ll let it show. For in my cracks, wildflowers grow So here I stand, so bold, so wise While chaos swirls, deep down inside. Sara Denzil 10A

Bloom in the ruins! Among the stones where fire had burned, Where life was lost and hearts had turned, A single bud began to rise, Defying smoke beneath the skies. The earth was cracked, the ground was scarred, But still it tried, though life was hard. Its colors spread, so pure, so bright, A spark of hope in ash and night. Around it, silence filled the air, No crowd to cheer, no one to care. Yet in that calm, the bloom still grew, A promise that the world still renews. So beauty bloomed where pain had been, A truth unseen by those within. For chaos it fades, so will its scars, New life will shine like scattered stars. So now or never, they shall assume, Day or night, flowers will bloom! Adheeha Shayma 8E

Breathing In The Blur The room is scattered, paint on the floor, music in the air, and somehow the mess feels alive. Curtains sway with the breeze that smells of rain, half-finished thoughts lie open on the table. Plans fall apart, coffee stains turn to stars, I laugh at the silence that never stays quiet. Even the broken things seem to glow, like they’re proud of the cracks that made them whole. Maybe beauty isn’t in order or calm, but in the noise, the laughter, the rush of it all. It’s in the whispered secrets under the bed, the half-burnt candles that smell like evenings past. It’s in shoes left by the door, the tiny battles we fight and forget, the papers we never file and the dreams we never pause. Even mistakes shine when the light hits them right. I think I’ll stay here a little longer, In this beautiful chaos that feels like home, because somewhere inside the mess, everything that matters is quietly breathing. Athena Mukherjee 8C

Beautiful Chaos The world’s a mess, or so it seems, Like tangled wires and shattered dreams. But in the noise, I found a beat, A rhythm hiding in defeat. The rain came down, the thunder roared, My plans were crushed and my spirit sore. Yet through the cracks, a light broke through, A stronger, braver version grew. Mistakes and storms, they taught me well, Each scar a story I could tell. I used to run, now I stand tall, I rise each time I start to fall. So let the chaos twist and spin, I’ll find the beauty deep within. Not perfect paths nor peaceful skies, But messy truth that makes me wise. Prayan Sunny Hazari 8A

The Symphony Of The Rain The rain began to hum one night, A quiet tune beneath the light. It tapped against my window’s glass, Like time itself refusing to pass. I used to hate the cloudy skies, The gray that hid the sun’s bright eyes. The puddles splashed, my shoes got wet, And somehow, I’d just feel upset. But life became a storm itself. My plans and peace upon a shelf. My best friend left, my grades went down, The laughter faded from our town. One day, I didn’t run away, I let the rain just have its say. It hit my face, so cold, so clear, And whispered things I needed to hear. Muhammad Zeeshan Niyaz 7C Full Poem:

The Broken Vase My crystal vase shines so bright in the light, What a pleasant sight! It shimmered in the morning beam, So beautiful like a fragile dream. One day it had a fall, And it felt like I had lost it all. When it broke, It felt like I had a stroke. Then I fixed it back with glue, It looked brand new. Because I had traced the cracks with gold, So, it had a story so bold. Now it’s fine, not perfect but wise, A beautiful image to the eyes. Its new self was a beautiful piece of art, Screaming tales of strength to people’s hearts. Aara Singalaxana 6C Full Poem:

Beautiful Chaos I woke from my slumber in pain A migraine had scrambled my brain I tossed and I turned With no hope of return I got up and brushed up my mane I staggered the way to my bus stop Mouth full with morning’s new slop My bag hit my knee Down with the hot tea, I wanted the whole world to stop The teacher keeps overexplaining I stare and I start overthinking She’s talking ‘bout diffusion I’m in so much confusion We learnt this in ninth grade, it’s draining! I know we all have these small problems Like you, yeah I know that you got ‘em You wake up in class The teacher yells at the class en masse I ran out of rhymes, I don’t got ‘em Chloe Pereira 12E Full Poem:

Wind of the Blessing The wind grazes the sky as my heart flutters to gold, Anticipation glimmers in my eyes, longing for a path to unfold. My future feels shattered, its fragments haunting my soul, Yet my body bears the ache, learning slowly to be bold. A scar blooms on my chest, carved with quiet confession, A mark of pain, a symbol of silent expression. Grief grows within me as my beloved fades to dust, She who embraced me despite my cold and jagged crust. Her touch, though blind, awakened memories I still keep, Her spirit lingers, stitching fragments I dare not weep. I wander through the forest, the sun warming my feet, And sit upon a log, where grace and thoughtfulness meet. A hand brushes mine, tingling through my fingertips, Its scent recalls my parents, memories I resist. But his voice, soft and kind, rewrites my pain with care, He asks if I’m alone; I whisper, “I miss her,” into the air. Tears fall as I drift toward the house where sorrow drips, Another hand, cold as mine, touched my eye with cryptic lips. He says, “Your eyes aren’t broken,” and my heart quietly slips. Ranuthi Vihasna 8C Full Poem:

My Naughty Kitten My naughty kitten here and there Creating trouble everywhere Up and down Sleeps like a clown People fear Just to come near He scratches, he bites Those tasty cat treats he likes He eats them like a king Being careful not to drop a thing At sunset He runs here, he runs there. In a blink of an eye, he is on my chair But when the morning sun is up He closes his eyes And dreams of pies . Ariyanna Rana 4E

My Fluffy Ball When I got home from school one day, A fluffy ball was waiting for me to play. Black, white and brown, All in stripes he hobbled around. Up and down, round and round, Turning our house upside down. Off he goes to make a mess, Despite his size he is no less. But when I feel trouble is near, Scotty comes and wipes out my fears. Oh, what joy a pet can bring, I can’t live without this tiny thing. On the floor he is quite slick, Off he goes and does a trick. This my pet, so very naughty, Let me make it clear, his name is Scotty. Ariav Rana 7B Full Poem:

My New Skates My new skates shine. I fall, then try. I get up smiling. Now I skate, flying. Syed Hisham 1D

Articles

The Beauty In Disorder Life rarely unfolds in neat lines or tidy boxes. Our rooms get messy, our plans slip through our fingers, and the world often feels louder and faster than we can handle. Yet within this disorder, there is a strange and quiet beauty. The scattered papers on the desk, the coffee stains on a notebook, the songs that drift from a forgotten speaker: they are proof that life is happening, in all its imperfect, unpolished glory. Beautiful chaos is not about destruction; it is about energy, motion, and possibility. It is the laughter that breaks through tension, the moments of creativity born from urgency, the small victories hidden among setbacks. It reminds us that perfection is overrated and that sometimes the most meaningful memories come from the unplanned, the messy, and the unfinished. This chaos teaches patience and acceptance. It encourages us to notice the sparks in disorder, to appreciate the lessons in mistakes, and to find warmth in things that don’t fit neatly together. It is in these moments of unpredictability that life feels most alive, most human, and most full. Embracing beautiful chaos doesn’t mean surrendering control; it means opening our eyes to the world in all its vibrant, messy, and brilliant truth. It is a reminder that life’s real beauty is rarely orderly, but always unforgettable. Athena Mukherjee 8C

The Mess That Made Me Who I am Sometimes, life gets messy. Like the time I messed up my lines in the school play, or when I struggled to finish a hard project on time, or when I wanted to apply for the student council. At first, I felt frustrated and a little sad. I wanted to give up and just hide, but later, I realised these messy moments were teaching me something important. I learned to stay calm while I was nervous, to keep trying even when things were hard, and to ask for help when I needed it. Every small mistake, every little challenge, helped me understand more about myself and made me stronger. Life isn’t always easy or perfect, and that’s okay. The chaos, the small messes and problems, help me grow, learn, and become more confident. Now, when things feel tricky or confusing, I try to remember that even in the mess, there’s a chance to learn and become better. As Albus Dumbledore once said, “Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if only one remembers to turn on the light.” And as Sirius Black said, “We’ve all got light and dark inside us. What matters is the path we choose to act on, that’s who we really are.” Both quotes show that while chaos can be disturbing, it remains a part of life’s beauty. Shonaya Sahni 6A

Beautiful Chaos Life isn't ever straightforward or smooth. Sometimes, everything feels like it’s spinning out of control: plans disintegrate, people change, and nothing works the way we'd like it to. It's chaotic, unpredictable and confusing. But maybe, in a way, that’s what makes it beautiful. In retrospect, the moments that made me who I am the most were not the quiet ones. The lost moments, the unsure moments, the hurt moments. Essentially, the moments that forced me to grow. It is the hard days that teach us patience. It is the failures that push us to go on even when things get tough. Every scar and every mistake is part of our story, proof that we survived. There's something reassuringly strange about that. The storms we endure shake us but also make us bloom. Because in the end, life isn't about having all the answers. In fact, it's about finding the beauty in the mess, the strength in the struggle, and the grace in the chaos. Soha Hassan 12C

Beautiful Chaos Middle school is one of the biggest obstacles to overcome in life. People often say that “being yourself will suffice,” but the truth is, middle school pushes you to change. At first, these changes may seem small, unimportant, or even harsh and difficult, but upon closer inspection, they mold you into someone stronger, someone who can fall and come back up, someone who can take life’s hits and endure the blows. Life isn’t always fair, but hard work yields satisfying results. Middle school is a phase of life, a chance to test yourself and see if you can survive the challenges of the world. Now, you may be thinking: if middle school forces you to change, doesn’t that sound cruel? The trick, however, is to accept those changes while staying true to your spirit and personality. When you first begin middle school, we all tend to feel overwhelmed by the sudden increase in homework, the stress to earn better grades, and the constant doubt of “Am I good enough?”. While this may sound sad, it’s true that almost everyone will find themselves stuck on this question. It’s human nature to compare yourself to others, to envy their talents or looks, and to underestimate your own worth. Instead of acknowledging your own fascinating attributes, you focus only on what you lack, making those flaws seem far bigger than they truly are. Something no one realises is that everyone is just thinking about themselves and wondering how they appear to others, so if we think about it, no one is really taking much notice of your shortcomings. What truly matters is whether you learn to feel secure, confident, and proud of who you are, or if you become insecure, start overthinking, while constantly second-guessing yourself. At the same time, it’s equally dangerous to let ego grow too big, because life will quickly humble you. Don’t worry about what others think or how they treat you, because no one truly knows you as you do. You alone know what you’re capable of. So, accept the mistakes and strive to achieve higher goals and polish your personality, not for anyone else, but for you. It will be hard, but these moments when you challenge yourself and step out of your comfort zone to make the impossible happen are the moments that truly define you. To come out of middle school as the best version of yourself, many factors play a role in your accomplishment of this feat: the friends you choose, the effort you put into your grades, the way you handle rude or obnoxious people, and even your daily behaviour. All the negative and positive ways are there to approach it. The real question is: How will you choose to face this hurdle? Neha Zaheen Shabeek 8C

A Hurdle Overcome There are many great scientists: some who are still emerging, others who prefer to stay quiet, and a tiny 5% who show their inventions, changing the world. This small group can spark more developments, proving that life is forever changing but still clings to the past for guidance. Stephen William Hawking is one of the most influential figures in the history of cosmology. His theory of black holes emitting radiation sparked further investigation and research into the matter. His discovery was at first controversial, but the research following his theory made his discovery widely accepted as a colossal breakthrough in the field of cosmology. His concept was an inspiration not only to England but to the whole world with his books on space-time relativity. Like everyone, Hawking started somewhere. He was born in Oxford, England, into a family of physicians. He started his academic journey at University College, where he earned a first-class BA degree in physics. He specialized in relativity and cosmology. But tragedy struck… Hawking was diagnosed with an early-onset, slow-progressing form of motor neuron disease which, over time, paralysed him. After the loss of speech, he communicated through a speech-generating device. However, that did not stop him. Even in the darkest times of his life, he continued pursuing his passion, even after doctors told him that he had little chance to live. He achieved success with his book, A Brief History of Time, which appeared in The Sunday Times. This just shows that even if the world is against you, fighting back is not a choice; it’s a requirement. Nikethana Sarawanan 8B

From Mess to Magic Sometimes, beautiful things come from messy places. Think about a thunderstorm. It’s loud, wild, and scary, but also amazing to watch. Lightning lights up the sky, and rain makes everything fresh again. That’s chaos, but it’s also beautiful. In life, chaos means things don’t go as planned. You might fail a test, lose something important, or feel confused. But those moments help us grow. We learn new things, become stronger, and sometimes even discover something great. The beauty isn’t just about perfect sunsets or neat drawings. It’s also in the messy stuff, like a painting with wild colors or a story with twists and turns. Chaos makes beauty more interesting and real. Artists use chaos to create. They splash paint, break rules, and try new things. Writers twist pain into powerful stories. Musicians turn heartbreak into songs. Even scientists face chaos. Experiments fail, ideas change, but new discoveries are made. Nature shows this too. Volcanoes erupt and shape new land. Forest fires clear space for fresh growth. Even messy gardens bloom in surprising ways. Chaos doesn’t mean the end. It can be the start of something better. So next time things feel messy or out of control, don’t panic. Look closer. Chaos isn’t always bad. It can lead to something beautiful, something new, something you didn’t expect. Sometimes, the most amazing things are born from the mess. Saharsh Satheeswaran 8C

Uncertainty, discipline, resilience, overthinking, and chaos basically describe hurdles and how to overcome them (according to me). For any individual out there, there can be numerous amounts of barriers that they have to come face to face with. Whether it be writer’s block, academics, job hunting, financial struggles, being your true self, mental, physical or emotional challenges, etc. Jumping over those barriers requires a process, a pathway, or just simply a thought on how to find the solution instead of just pondering over how bad the situation is. Come to think of it, how long are you going to stand next to that barrier instead of finding ways to remove it from your path? Realistically, facing an obstacle is so much more difficult than just talking or writing about it. It’s nerve-wracking — fibers and threads of anxiety, the pressure to just get over it already, the stress, and all the negativity. Being a teenager is one big hurdle, one that I find myself facing. It is, indeed, a blessing in disguise and something to be grateful for, but it is also a phase of life which challenges you in many different aspects. Teenagers all go through the same things emotionally and mentally, although at different points and in different aspects of life. Namely, peer pressure, social anxiety, stress, impulsive behaviours/decisions, self-esteem and mood swings. Through my own experiences of dealing with negativity and stress, I have come to understand how easily impulsive decisions can follow, cloud your judgement and thoughts, and trigger unwanted mood swings. Experiencing all of that has made me the individual I am today, and I have learnt to look at things more positively along with thinking about the decisions I have to make, more rationally. After all, it doesn’t hurt to be calm and think with a positive viewpoint even when life is throwing curves at you. Hafsa Abid 12C Full Article: Obstacles and chaos within

The Haida Way When we think of environmental conservation, our minds often drift to modern laws, scientific policies, or sweeping international agreements made by governments and global organisations. These are, of course, important pieces of the puzzle. But one of the most profound lessons I’ve learned about sustainability didn’t come from a textbook or a policy document. Instead, it came from a small Indigenous community thousands of miles from where I live, whose way of living has much to teach the world. During a recent school research assignment on Commonwealth countries, I was introduced to the Haida Nation of Canada. Their story changed my view of the relationship between people and the natural world. The Haida people live in Haida Gwaii, an isolated archipelago off Canada’s west coast. It is a place where rugged forests meet the sea, and the lives of its people have been connected with the environment for thousands of years. For the Haida, their traditions, culture, and very identity are inseparable from the forests, waters, and wildlife that surround them. One of their key beliefs is summed up in the phrase, “Gina waadluxan gud ad kwaagiida,” which means “everything depends on everything else.” It’s a simple yet powerful idea. It shows how they see nature and life as interconnected, perfectly showing their holistic approach towards nature. Every part of it, plants, animals, water, land, and people, affects each other in some way. This way of thinking is very different from how a lot of modern society sees nature, where it’s often treated as a resource that can be used up quickly without thinking about the long-term effects. One of the most remarkable examples of this philosophy in action is Taan Forest, a Haida– owned sustainable forestry company. At a time when deforestation threatens ecosystems worldwide, the Haida have shown that it’s possible to develop the economy without harming nature. Instead of clear-cutting large areas of forests, which damages soil, water systems, and wildlife habitats, they harvest trees in ways that maintain the forest’s health and biodiversity. This approach ensures that the forest can revive and continue providing for future generations. At the same time, it allows local people to earn a living and support their communities. Riddhi Sandeep 8E Full Article:

Life is a long journey with NEW experiences and learnings that have no end. If you feel that there is nothing NEW in your life, you may have to rethink What are the NEW experiences and learnings? They are little steps in our lives that improve us as we move ahead. They often show us a NEW stage of life. NEW learnings and experiences can be from making mistakes, trying something different. I was lucky to have a NEW experience during my recent visit to Georgia. During our day of sightseeing, we visited Mount Kazbek. One of the most famous sightseeing places in Georgia. It was famous for its breathtaking landscapes. The motive of our visit to Mount Kazbek was to do a dangerous but fun sport, paragliding. I always had a fear of flying and paragliding. In cartoons and movies, I have seen birds tearing the parachute and people falling to the ground. I thought it might happen in real life, too. Imagine you are paragliding, enjoying the fresh air hitting your face and the beautiful view. Suddenly, a giant bird comes, tears your parachute, and you fall from a height of 1000 feet with no chance of surviving! Would you have fun? I would not, as This Beautiful Janya would become The Late Janya! When we reached the site, I saw a beautiful landscape: breeze blowing, white and fluffy clouds in the blue sky, and greenery all around. Recalling Emma's story, I got inspired. I decided to try the stunt. With all my courage, I was able to have a NEW experience with this beautiful sport, flying around the mountains and experiencing the cool breeze. I felt amazed and never imagined the world could look this beautiful. If I had kept on thinking about what is in the cartoon and not have found out more about this sport, I would have never experienced this moment in my life. Janya Bhatia 13D Full Article: Jumping” Out of the Comfort Zone

Beautiful Chaos: Finding Harmony in Disorder In a world that often demands order, symmetry, and predictability, chaos is typically cast as the villain: a force of disruption, confusion, and fear. Yet within the swirling unpredictability of chaos lies a paradox: it can be breathtakingly beautiful. From the fractal patterns of nature to the emotional turbulence of human experience, “beautiful chaos” is not just a poetic phrase; it’s a profound truth that challenges how we perceive disorder. The Science of Chaos: Order Beneath the Surface Chaos theory, a branch of mathematics and physics, reveals that even the most erratic systems can follow deterministic rules. The famous Butterfly Effect, where a butterfly flapping its wings in Brazil might set off a tornado in Texas, illustrates how small changes in initial conditions can lead to vastly different outcomes. This sensitivity doesn’t mean randomness; it means complexity. Beneath the surface of chaotic systems lie strange attractors — intricate, repeating patterns that defy traditional logic but remain consistent over time. Nature is full of these chaotic yet ordered systems. The branching of trees, the spirals of galaxies, and the flow of turbulent rivers all exhibit patterns that are mathematically chaotic but visually harmonious. Artists and designers have long drawn inspiration from these forms, using fractals and asymmetry to evoke emotion and depth. In this way, chaos becomes a muse, not a menace. Emotional Chaos: The Beauty of Human Complexity Beyond science, chaos lives in the human heart. Grief, love, longing, and transformation are rarely linear. They twist and turn, collide and collapse, often leaving us breathless. Yet it’s in these moments, when life feels most uncertain, that we often discover our deepest truths. Consider the journey of someone who has lost a loved one, wandered through emotional darkness, and emerged with a new sense of purpose. Their path may be riddled with pain, but it’s also rich with growth. The chaos of heartbreak can lead to the clarity of self-discovery. The unpredictability of relationships can foster resilience, empathy, and creativity. In this emotional terrain, beauty is not found in perfection but in vulnerability. Ranuthi Vihasna 8C Full Article:

Beautiful Chaos Last year, I left my old school and house and came to live in Al Nahda, and I started going to Al Diyafah High School. I made many new friends but still, I missed my childhood friends: Krishay and Nishka. I still remember how we used to laugh, how much we played and talked, and how much we fought. I used to have very less friends but now my new friendships became strong, and now I have many new friends to play with. I visit Nishka and Krishay whenever it’s possible. Kiara Vernekar 3B

Stories

Beautiful Chaos: My Diyafah Story When I first joined Al Diyafah High School, I felt like a shadow in the hallway. I was quiet. Awkward. Unsure of where I fit in. Making friends felt impossible; it felt like everyone else had already found their place in a world I didn’t understand. I watched from the sidelines, convinced I wasn’t capable of being part of anything. For five years, I carried that weight. I smiled when I had to, spoke when I was asked, but inside, I felt invisible. Until Manha. She didn’t just talk to me—she saw me. Her kindness wasn’t loud but constant. She checked in. She listened. She made space for me in a way that felt safe. Then came Arnika. Sarcastic. Hilarious. Unapologetically herself. She brought chaos but the good kind. The kind that made me laugh until my stomach hurt. The kind that made school feel less like a battlefield and more like a sitcom. Her obsession with food, her witty comebacks, her energy—it never got old. With them, I wasn’t just surviving; I was becoming. We started as three. Just three girls trying to make sense of school, life, and everything in between. But something beautiful happened: more people started joining. One by one, our little circle grew. From three to five. Then seven. Then ten. And suddenly, I wasn’t scared anymore. I was laughing louder, speaking up, and joining in. I found myself in group chats, inside jokes, birthday plans, and spontaneous lunch table debates. I wasn’t just part of something; I was part of everything. We learned something simple but powerful: everyone can be a part of anything. You just need someone to open the door. Now, when I walk through Diyafah’s corridors, I don’t feel like a shadow; I feel like a spark. And that’s what Beautiful Chaos means to me: not perfection, but transformation. Not silence, but connection. Not fear, but friendship. Zahabia Ghotawala 8D

Last month, our teacher said that we, the children of Year 3, will be going to Super Park Dubai. Since then, I couldn’t sleep properly. I kept talking about it with my friends and parents. I was super excited when the day arrived and in fact, I reached school very early. We stood in the queue and boarded the bus. Everybody settled in, busy chatting, singing, sharing snacks, and our faces were full of smiles. The bus was filled with laughter. Finally, we reached the spot and had a great time doing all the fun activities. A few of us fell down and got hurt but still, our excitement was high. We didn’t realise three hours had already passed when the teachers announced, “Children, it’s time to go back to school.” We came back tired but thrilled. I made beautiful memories to cherish throughout my life. Varnika Neelesh Tewani 3B Field Trip Frenzy: A Beautiful Chaos

Unforgettable Tour with My Cousin It was a sunny Sunday. My cousin came to stay at my house for a couple of days. So, my parents decided to go somewhere. We all thought for a while and decided to go on a tour. At night, we packed our bags. We were so excited that we felt like jumping on the bed. My cousin and I talked for a long time and eventually fell asleep without even realizing it. When Mom woke us up, I was horrified; it was already morning! But when I looked out the window, it was still dark outside. That’s when she told us we had to leave early, or we'd get stuck in traffic. So, we all got ready, full of energy and excitement. My cousin and I wore matching outfits. We packed all our bags and loaded them into the car. Then we all got in, feeling calm and happy, ready for the day ahead. On our way, we munched on snacks, sang songs, and had a great time. As we drove, we admired the beauty of nature, the winding roads, the curves, and the mountains blanketed in lush greenery. Everything around us felt peaceful and mesmerising. After we were halfway through, we saw a pleasant and beautiful garden. The garden was full of flowers and trees. We saw so many beautiful, colourful butterflies. I couldn’t take my eyes off them. We all explored the garden, and the scent of the flowers was amazing. The sweet scent filled the air, and it felt like the whole garden was smiling at us. Then my father wanted to take us to a waterfall. On the way, we got hungry. We saw a grassy plain, so we stopped the car and went to have lunch at that place. While everyone was still eating, my cousin and I finished quickly because we couldn’t wait to play. We started tossing a ball back and forth while laughing and running around. But while we were playing, the ball accidentally rolled deep into the forest near the open field. We both went inside the forest to get our ball. I saw a rabbit with a golden eye. When we were following the rabbit, it ran very fast, and we eventually lost track of it. After that, we realised that we were deep in the forest. The bushes, well-branched trees, and creepy sounds terrified us. My cousin started to cry, and I got really scared too. We slowly turned around, and there it was! A big elephant was coming towards us, making a loud noise. It looked right at us and started walking closer. Then we both screamed and ran fast. Fortunately, a forest officer heard our sound and came towards us. He quickly got down from his jeep, and he helped us to get in. The forest officer helped us and took us safely out of the forest. Our hearts were beating fast! When I saw my parents waiting outside, I finally felt okay and could breathe normally again. My parents ran to us and gave us big hugs and kisses. We said thank you to the forest officer and left that place with memories we’ll never forget. Zainab Mohamed Nifraz 5E

The Messy Morning One morning, the sky was pink and orange like melted candy. I thought it was going to be a perfect day. But then my brother spilled cereal all over the floor, and the cat ran through it, leaving tiny paw prints everywhere. Mom screamed at me, and my toast burned. It was chaos. But then, as I helped clean up, my brother laughed so hard he got hiccups, and the cat chased a rolling cereal loop across the floor. Even Mom started laughing. The kitchen was a mess, but it was the kind of mess that made everyone happy. I realised that sometimes beautiful things don’t have to be perfect. They can be beautifully chaotic. Eshal Sabin 6D

The Silence Between Stars The countdown began: 10... 9... 8... 7... 6... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... 0. The rocket stood tall, trembling not from fear but from the weight of hope and chaos it carried. No one knew what would happen or what it would find. NASA had mapped the coordinates: a new star hidden in a cloud of storms and dust. A place no one had discovered. But it wasn't empty; it was filled with silence. It roared through the sky—past satellites, past coordinates any rocket, satellite, or astronaut had explored. Somewhere beyond the limits of the sky, hidden inside, there was a small newborn baby star forming. Not shining, not calm, but alive. It pulsed strong like a heartbeat. It roared with chaos, but it was beautiful. Back on Earth, no one cheered like usual. The whole world paused, admiring the beautiful chaos. There were no fireworks. No clapping. No loud voices shouting success. Instead, the world paused. Screens froze mid-frame. Scientists leaned closer. Children stared at the sky with wide eyes. Teachers stopped mid-sentence. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath. Because what the rocket had found wasn’t just a star; it was a moment. A truth. A reminder. That beauty doesn’t always arrive with perfection. Sometimes, it comes wrapped in silence. In static. In chaos. This moment defined us—because our most beautiful memories are born from chaos. The rocket drifted onward, carrying fragments of dust and light, leaving behind a trail of wonder. And somewhere, deep in the storm, the star kept forming. Not perfect. Not finished. But beautiful. The star didn’t shine to impress. It didn’t roar to be heard. It simply existed: raw, wild, alive. And in that moment, the world understood “Beautiful Chaos”. Author’s Note: I wrote this to show that even chaos can give birth to stars. Every storm carries the spark of something beautiful. Evania Joseph 6B

The Cracks in the Mirror My mom always told me that broken things still reflect light. I never really understood what she meant until the day the mirror in my room shattered. It happened on a Thursday morning. I was running late, frustrated, and tired of pretending everything was fine. My reflection looked back at me—the same messy hair, the same tired eyes—and I just… lost it. The mirror fell, splintering into pieces that scattered like ice across the floor. For a long time, I just stared. I saw a thousand versions of myself: some upside down, some twisted, some clear. None of them were perfect, but together, they looked like a mosaic. That’s when I realised: maybe that’s what life is. Not perfect pieces, but broken ones that still catch light. I spent that afternoon picking up the shards, careful not to bleed. When I placed them back together, the cracks didn’t disappear but somehow, they made it more beautiful. It didn’t look like a mistake anymore; it looked like a story. Now, every morning, I face that same mirror. The cracks remind me that chaos isn’t always destruction. Sometimes, it’s transformation. Sometimes, the mess is what makes the masterpiece. Muhammad Zeeshan Niyaz 7C

The Day I Learned to Swim! One beautiful day, I thought, “I want to learn how to swim!” So I went to my brother and asked, “Can you teach me to swim?” He smiled and said, “Yes, of course!” We went to the swimming pool together. But when we reached there, I looked at the big pool and felt scared of the water. My brother encouraged me, saying, “Don’t worry! You can do it!” I slowly stepped into the pool and tried to swim, but I started sinking! Water went into my nose and mouth, and I got scared. I quickly came out of the pool, coughing and afraid. My brother gave me some swimming tips and told me not to give up. His words made me feel brave again. I took a deep breath, motivated myself, and went back into the pool with courage. This time, I followed his tips carefully. After some practice, I finally learned how to swim! I was so happy and proud of myself. Moral: If you stay scared, you won’t be able to do anything. But once you face your fears, you can do anything! Anaya Mallick 3C

Last summer, my friends and I went for the most exciting trip of our lives. It was the most awaited trip of my life. Exploring nature was one of the best feelings ever. Since I was a kid, I’ve always wanted to do something like this. When we reached the spot, I was so nervous that I almost quit but I made a bet with my friends, so I persevered through it. As we started to climb the steep hill, I remembered that when I was little, I wanted to do this. I gripped the rope so hard that my hands started to bleed. But I didn’t even notice. I was so focused that nothing could stop me. My arrogance was too high. As we began climbing the mountain, blisters started forming, and I knew I was wearing the wrong shoes. It was so painful, but I still had to go. Giving up was not an option. I climbed higher, but the weather was so hot, and I was out of water. It was good that one of my friends had extra. After a short water break, we started to climb higher. There was a cramp in my knee, but I endured the pain and kept climbing. As the sun descended, I reached the top. The view was magnificent. It was so good that no one could ever show me that again. As I came down, I grew humbler each minute. With the pain in my hands and the blister on my leg, I finally reached the foot of the mountain. This experience taught me to always research before agreeing to do something new. Burhanuddin Ali Asghar 7A Climbing Through Chaos

The Rose of Dubikis Madhav Karira 8B Once upon a time, in a village where the air smelled of clay pots and honey bread, a boy named Migas was sent to buy groceries for his family. He had to travel all the way to the far end of the city, where the food was cheaper and freshly grown near the fields. His mother handed him a cloth pouch filled with coins and a short list: rice, beans, flour, two eggs, and, if anything was left, a treat. The city was buzzing that day, loud and crowded like a stirred-up hive. But Migas had walked this path before. He passed stalls with soft colors and slow sellers: not like the wild, decorated booths back home. Here, no one sang out offers or tossed glitter in your face. The silence was stranger—and somehow deeper. But one stall caught his eye. It wasn’t really a stall at all. Just a man sitting on a stone beside a large black cow that chewed on mint slowly, thoughtfully. There was no table, no sign, and no crates of goods. Just a basket at the man’s feet, filled with glowing roses that shimmered slightly even in daylight. “Hello, my child,” said the man with a voice like warm tea. “What are you selling?” Migas asked. “Roses,” the man said. “But only to those who truly need them.” “What’s your name?” “Dubikis.” Full Story:

A long time ago, Greyvale made a deal. The people were tired of sorrow. So, when the Crow of Dusk came offering peace and silence, they accepted. In return, they gave him time. Every hundred years, when the moon hangs lowest in the sky and the air grows cold without warning, the village of Greyvale falls asleep. Each century, one was spared—chosen to solve the riddles that would lift the enchantment for another hundred years. The village simply slept, and a child awoke to buy the village another century of peace. This time, it was Venus. She wasn’t the bravest child in Greyvale. Nor the smartest. But she remembered everything. Her grandmother used to say, “Memory is the sharpest kind of blade, child. Never let yours rust.” Maybe that’s why Venus was chosen. The village square was quiet as a bone. Venus stood alone. Her wool scarf clung to her neck like a nervous cat. Her best friend, Tomas, sat mid-laugh on the edge of the well, a raisin bun halfway to his mouth. His eyes stared right through her. A wind stirred but no leaves rustled. And then… the crow came. It dropped from the sky like a shadow breaking loose from the clouds: feathers slick as ink, eyes like mercury. It landed on the sundial, lifted one wing and spoke, “I’m tall when I’m young, and short when I’m old. What am I?” Venus let out a breath. That one was simple: “A candle.” The crow’s wings ruffled slightly. “Good,” it said, though its voice carried no joy. “Find it, then.” She knew what it meant: the Eternal Lantern, always burning in the chapel’s alcove. Then it vanished, as if swallowed by the shadow of its own wings, turning into a gust of feathers and ash. Riddhi Sandeep 8E The Price of Peace Full Story:

A New Year’s Miracle The first snow had come early that year. It dusted the roof of Saint Elaria’s Orphanage like ash, turning the old slate grey to white. Inside, the heating pipes throbbed and hissed, and forty-three children waited for the night to fall so they could do the only thing that still felt like tradition: release the lanterns. It was an old tradition. Miss Hallow, the caretaker, said it began when Saint Elaria herself had lived: a woman who once sent her prayers into the sky so the stars could carry them to heaven. Every New Year’s Eve, the children of the orphanage followed the same ritual, lighting paper lanterns and letting them rise into the night sky. Miss Hallow, their caretaker, moved between them with scraps of paper in her hands. Torn notebook pages, faded flyers, and old forms were all that was left. “Write something,” she said, her voice raspy from the cold, “Anything you want this year.” She looked at each child for a second, long enough for them to feel the weight of her eyes. The children finished their lanterns in silence. Some of the candles wobbled and melted unevenly, dripping wax onto the paper, but nobody cared. The lanterns just had to go up. Agnes picked hers up carefully, glancing at the others. Some of the little ones were shivering so badly; their hands couldn’t hold the paper straight. Locke helped steady one of them, muttering something under his breath about gravity, but the child just laughed, spilling wax on their sleeve. When they finally stepped onto the roof, the city below roared with fireworks and shouting, but up here, it felt like the world had shrunk to just the orphanage and the cold night air. Snow clung stubbornly to the edges of the roof, wetting their shoes and making the lanterns tilt and wobble with each gust of wind. Agnes crouched for a second, checking the candle flame, and felt it buzz against her palm. One year, the wind had caught hers at just the wrong angle, and the flame had leapt, scorching the sleeve of the youngest boy before anyone could react. He had cried, and the fire had been smothered in seconds, but she still remembered—the smell of burnt cloth, the way everyone froze. Even now, her fingers trembled slightly whenever she lit the candle, checking and rechecking to make sure the flame stayed small. Riddhi Sandeep 8E Full Story:

Beautiful Chaos Darish Sadhis 7A It was the middle of the night, and the forest was quiet. No bugs or animals disturbed the silence. There were no birds, no chirping. His house lay lonely in the vast woods; no other house surrounded him by any chance. He glanced at his surroundings, checking to see if, by any chance, anyone was secretly watching him. “No,” he told himself. Who would be wandering around this place at this time? He got up from the hard maple tree he was sitting on and walked around the woods. His flashlight lay in his hands, shining like the sun on a dreary day. Except, today didn’t feel dreary; it was rather dull. Nothing bad of any sort, just a normal day, but it just felt dull. He now lay far in the woods, not caring about whether his parents were searching for him or not. He just wanted some free time, some peace to think about what had happened so far in the 14 years of his life. Marcus, the young teen who seemed like a nobody to people outside: just a normal boy, a normal lifestyle, normal everything. He wanted to be more than that, way more than that; he wanted to be exceptional, brilliant, talented. He wanted to be like those superheroes every kid once dreamt of, except he knew he was not one of them—neither of them to be frank. His deep brown hair ruffled against the wind; a nice breeze relieved him for a second. He had green eyes, a majestic face, and was rather handsome: in fact, very handsome, to fit his description. A fit boy: not too bulky nor too thin, the perfect blend between the two. His father had brought him up to be a good and strong man in the future. So did his mom. But he just never found interest in it. He just wanted to be alone, not wanted; he didn’t care what other people said. Full Story:

The Cycle of Silence I take my seat in the quiet hall. Silence feels alive here: breathing only between a hundred held breaths. Not one of the hundred speaks: their stillness almost serene, like a painting moments before it shatters. They all look calm though. I, on the other hand, look anything but calm. My fingers tremble slightly, as I place them on the small desk in front of me, and nervousness courses through me. This is a government exam, but apparently our future relies heavily on it. And me being… me, I tried revising for every single topic they sent out from the hundred-point list. Pulling me out of my thoughts, I hear a noise. Loud, since no one else talks or even moves. I’m seated somewhere in the middle row, so from afar, I can see a teacher making her way to each one of us, handing out the papers. Her hair is twisted into a bun so tight it looks painful; each strand pinned with military precision, a crown of beautiful chaos she doesn’t seem to notice. After what seems like an eternity, she finally reaches me, and hands me mine. I smile up at her, which mostly comes out as a grimace because I’m so anxious. She doesn’t reply though. Not even a small lift of her lips. Nothing. That’s… strange. She walks away and I finally look at the thick exam paper in front of me. “Begin now,” comes a voice—the teacher. She’s already reached the table at the far corner. And then comes the ruffling sounds of everyone opening their papers all at once. I read through the first question. Then the second. Then the third. None of them make sense! I glance up, scanning the room, but everyone just keeps swirling their pens on their papers, writing something I only wish I could see. Looking back at the questions in front of me, they are impossibly difficult, have no literal meaning, and have no answers that seem to fit. I suddenly raise my hand, glancing at the teacher. She doesn’t look at me, but somehow knows my hand is up. She only says, “Keep going,” which does nothing but build my frustration, since no one else around me seems bothered. So, with nothing else to do and no better choice, I answer the questions. “Answer” is hardly the word I would use but nothing makes sense right now. I feel like it’s been hours since I started the test. The clock in front of all of us has been ticking. The pencils and pens scratch and whisper against the paper, and the air hums its low, endless tune: an orchestra of order, playing through my unravelling mind. My sense of claustrophobia has only been increasing, however. Hours have passed. And no one else seems concerned! Every other student continues to write, completely absorbed in their work. Their pens move in unison, like synchronised dancers tracing madness in ink. But when I finally look at the clock, it’s only 3:30 pm. Just 30 minutes since I started the test. Naisha Mehta 10D Full Story:

The Wind of Blessing Hanni stood at the edge of the sea, the wind combing through her hair like fingers from a forgotten dream. The tide whispered secrets to the shore, and her eyes, heavy with memory, lingered on the seabed where she and her grandmother had once sat, legs folded, hearts open. It had been a year since the old woman vanished into the wind, her final breath woven into a spell, cast to the ancient spirits that guarded their world. A sacrifice born not of fear, but of love: a beautiful chaos. Far inland, in a cottage stitched together by ivy and time, lived Lily: a girl whose eyes had never known light. Her parents, ashamed of her blindness, had cast her out like a broken toy. But fate, ever mischievous, placed her in the path of Hanni’s grandmother, who took her in and called her precious. The old woman taught Lily to read the world through touch, through scent, through the rhythm of footsteps, and the hush of rain. For years, Lily bloomed in the quiet sanctuary of that cottage. But one spring morning, as she wandered the yard, her foot slipped into a forgotten well, its mouth hidden beneath a blanket of moss. The water swallowed her whole. Her grandmother, hearing the splash, ran—faster than her bones allowed—and pulled Lily from the depths. The girl lived. The grandmother did not. Grief settled into Lily’s bones like frost. She wandered the house alone, tracing the edges of furniture, whispering to shadows. Until one day, a boy arrived. His name was Elias. He came with his father, an ophthalmologist, to inspect the cottage for restoration. Elias found Lily curled beneath the fig tree, tears streaking her cheeks. He knelt beside her, unsure of what to say, until she whispered, “I miss her.” He took her hand. Elias’s father examined Lily’s eyes and sighed. “Her condition is severe. But there’s a surgery. It could restore her sight. It’s expensive: nearly a hundred thousand.” Ranuthi Vihasna 8C Full Story:

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