My Rambles

An English Literature Workshop with Myself, Age 14

Humbling, funny and cringeworthy – that was my experience of writing this scene imagining myself as a mentor to a teenage version of myself. For all the earnest young writers and English students out there!

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Breathe In Dawn, Breathe Out Starlight: A Poem

Breathe in Dawn, Breathe out Starlight – some poetic observations on the endless intelligence and regeneration of the natural world around us.

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The Dress: A Fairytale…Or Is It? – A Short Story by Shreya Manna

In childhood, it’s possible for us to see, even believe, in the magic of fairytales. But as we grow older, there’s no reason why we can’t take our grown-up problems and laugh at them, thanks to the superpower that being human gives us: the power to tell stories. This fairytale is really a story I wrote for myself, to capture the circus of our minds that only we can hear.

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Vile Bodies by Evelyn Waugh

One more exam, and then the freedom to write blog posts beckons! (can you tell that I snatched some time for this one between French revision sessions?). So, let’s talk ‘Vile Bodies’ by Evelyn Waugh. It sounds like an apt name for secondary examination organisations. It is in fact a comedy, and the satirical type.…

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Requiem for 2019

As the exams are around the corner, I thought I would take the opportunity to write the quintessential ‘what a year’ post. And an explosive year it has been for the class of 2019. My graduation year has been everything I needed it to be, but nothing close to what I imagined it would be.…

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Sapling in the Woods (A Poem)

Beneath my feet are crunching leaves, martyrs to the world’s law,  And above me the canopy, shaking leafy branches in a tribal dance, Like a million green eyelashes in the sky’s eyes  Nobody is listening. The gnarled limbs of the trees spread to claim the sky  Gather the sun like gold, loot, I look up…

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Waterfall (A Poem by Shreya Manna)

Sometimes I feel like a waterfall wrestling with gravity I am heavy and torrential and endlessly crashing against granite. Somehow I spill into the canals dug by words,  Slowing, a stream, rolling along soft clay. What I see is a stream of consciousness moving forward. What I see is the endless play of elements as…

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Paradise Prose is Sleeping (Again)

After successfully negotiating AS Levels in French, English, History and Psychology, lo and behold, here comes the onslaught of Year 13. Homework, university applications, extra reading, an EPQ are just a few things on my never-ending to-do list for the moment. In following with Paradise Prose custom (thanks to schoolwork, this has happened before), the…

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Thoughts on the Poem “Mirror” by Sylvia Plath

‘Mirror’ appears like a relatively simple poem. However, in no way does it lack depth: narrated from the point of view of a personified mirror, we witness the coming and going of a woman who looks in and reacts bitterly to what she sees. What I found most stunning about this poem were the contrasts.…

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