At end that’s what I really learnt…

Beyond the beauty of my dreams 
I walk this deserted street
Lonely all alone 
But surrounded by my empty thoughts

Saw many yet rare strangers passing by
Enchanting their own stories
They made me to hear and I heard
Some remembered and some erased

Met loners ,some lost battles of hope
Some were injured by their own expectations
Among them was sorrow,disgust
But I tasted hope

With time came youth
Blood grew warm,fervour
Red added to my colours
Felt like everything to be in hold

The walk wasn’t easy though
Buds of dreams were yet to flower
Wind shook them fiercly
And optimism about to go down in flames

But soon desires turned into passion
Dreams made me restless
My walk was no more idle 
But curved into journey

With this came new me
Steady and bold one,ripe with experience
No obstacle was big enough
No goal that far

There ladden with my own desperation
I landed up in ending my journey
But when i reached my destination
I found success to be nothing
But just pounds of relations…

Eleza Chakraborty

BP Poddar Institute of Management and Technology

It means a lot to me

All good things come in small packets and so to me came the admission in St. Joseph’s Convent…….St.Joseph’s Convent , one of the best schools of Bhopal, a school which is the first preference of every parent for their daughter……

I was admitted there in 3rd std. My blood boils when people ask me , ” How much donation you gave ? “, ” What was your medium of source to get there ? ” I passed 3 written exams and an interview to get there….75 % my mother’s hard work and 25 % my destiny….Trust me nothing more than that…..
When the news of my admission reached the ears of my relatives , they all came like swarm of bees to felicitate my family and me…..

My father being an orthodox was not in the favour of getting his daughter educated in a missionary school.This narrow mindedness of him bewildered me as he himself was highly educated.Peoples praises changed his mind . I still remember when I went to school for some formalities , he met his colleague and said to him my daughter is intelligent.Oh! I was so elated. 

Now coming to interview.My mother made me ratify general knowledge questions like a nincompoop..Sister asked me a couple of questions of which I remember one the most because of my hilarious reply . She asked me about the colors of national flag . I replied and then added in hindi , ” Aur haan wo beech mein blue color ka chakra hota hai , uski 24 dandiyaan hoti hain ” ..Sister grinned…

My first day in Convent turned disastrous and people appeared zombie to me. Discipline , strict rules and regulations choked me.I wanted to run away. My major problem was the language problem. High level English crossed above my horizon.

In the initial days I befriended a girl named Tanya. Kudos to her , she would explain me each and every announcement in Hindi.

Once Tanya was in a mischievious mood . She was constantly pricking my hand with her well sharpened pencil. I would tell her not to do that but she turned a deaf ear.My teacher warned me ample of times not to talk and ultimately punished me. I wanted to elucidate her the entire matter but the so called language problem. I framed several sentences in mind but nothing came more than that – ” Mam she is chubaing pencil on me ” . So I let it go off and preferred standing.

All new comers went for dress measurements except me as I was punished. Later when everyone came back my teacher send me for measurements with a girl.

Sister asked me , ” Why are you late my dear child ? “
” I was punished ” , I replied …
“Whats the reason dear ? “, she asked…
I replied , ” I was talking ” because thats the only thing which I could say in English at that time…In 6 months my language problem solved …Aur haan ab mein theek theek English bol leti hoon….
A year passed . I tried to adjust in that environment as beggars cannot be choosers…

I disliked my 4th class teaher. She was an epitome of partiality. She said rubbish things about me on parents meet.All her allegations were baseless..Study wise I was good but when it came to co curricular activities I was bad…I knew answers but I had phobia in answering…

With low self esteem and confidence I reached 5th…Miss Kiran was my teacher then. Once she asked a question…Gathering all my might I rose hand too low, (probably the first time) hid myself behind the person in front..I was 100 % sure she wouldn’t ask me. But I was wrong..I stammered in between but her humility instilled confidence in me. She was impressed.

It wouldn’t be wrong to say a teacher is a second mother.Her caring and loving nature transformed me..I threw my shy , ill behaviour and started behaving as a true Josephite. She made me a partner of not a so good student . I helped that girl and she passed in finals..My class mates started loving and respecting me, started considering me for class monitoring…

As I reached 6th , Miss Kiran left the school…

So from there started my journey.. I wouldn’t say I m a very talented person or a celebrity…But I a complete individual in myself…

Every year I met wonderful teachers and learnt enriching things from them…

Stupid I am….I don’t know how to express feelings… i wish I could have told Miss Kiran about all that..I was too small to understand and express feelings….

It was my 12th board exam…I was rushing to my centre as I was late…
Suddenly there was a voice calling my name….I turned around and tried to recollect the face…
Again the voice questioned , ” Forgotten me ? “
I said , ” No, Miss Kiran”
“You all have grown up a lot “, said Miss Kiran…
There was lack of time as exam was just about to start…so we went away…

My teacher saw me after 7 years and still recognised me….It means a lot to me….Unknowingly she has helped me to grow….Next time when I meet her I would tell her everything because whatever she has done for me means a lot to me……

Nabila Khan

Peoples Dental Academy

nabila.alikhan@yahoo.co.in

R. A. Kartini, Inspirator and Pioneer of Female Emancipation for Mother

Being a career woman is not my mother’s expectations. However, since the father was no longer provide income to the family, he boldly volunteered to be my father’s bone substitute family. My mother toiled willingly to finance her children’s schooling. While working, my mother is also still complete his tertiary education, master in the field of law. I also felt humbled by her sacrifices and perseverance to the family. I always hope that the Lord may give the best for my mother, both globally and in the hereafter.

However, her career as a female worker has been successful to a higher level. Initially she worked as an ordinary civil servant with a salary that barely making it very difficult to finance her family. And Thank God, she finally climbed her career as head of state high school administration. She was still struggling up the career in spite of distractions and obstacles that must be faced. I keep praying and also helps the mother to work sideline during college. Strangely, though she was old age, she still works hard to support her family for children.

It becomes a question for me is, why my mother would work hard for her children? I knew that she wanted to make us as successful children. And one rational possible answer from her is she wanted to be like a heroine from Jepara, Raden Ajeng Kartini. Yes, I really knew who was this heroine. Apparently he was very impressed with this pahlawan figure. And She was the inspiration and a pioneer for my mother.

Raden Adjeng Kartini or more accurately Raden Ayu Kartini (1879 -1904) was a prominent Javanese and an Indonesian national heroine. She was born in the age when women received little or no education at all because, their parents reasoned, they would end up giving birth and stay in the kitchen all the time, anyway. Kartini rebelled in her quiet way against this injustice and inspired the women of her nation to achieve more than what the society allowed them. She fight for education for women with the principle of equality without any distinction between women and men degrees. Because in ancient times, a woman could only cook and sit at home without work and be educated. This heroine has been enshrined as a hero of women’s emancipation in Indonesia.

The messages conveyed by Kartini in his letter “After Darkness, Light is Born” has inspired my mother. Unwitting of the letter, there is a strong motivation to reach the highest peak in a fixed position in the community with a woman’s ability to realize it’s the same with men. Women have equal rights in various ways as long as it does not violate prevailing norms in society and government.

Kartini’s beliefs and letters inspired many women and effected actual change in her native Java. Taking their example, women from other islands in the archipelago, such as Sumatra, also were inspired to push for change in their regions. The 1945 Constitution establishing the Republic of Indonesia guaranteed women the same rights as men in the areas of education, voting rights, and economy. Today, women are welcome at all levels of education and have a broad choice of careers. Kartini’s contributions to Indonesian society are remembered in her hometown of Jepara at the Museum Kartini di Jepara and in Rembang, where she spent her brief married life, at the Museum Kartini di Rembang. And she has become one part of Kartini.

There are so many figures from the Kartini or woman in Indonesia who had a career in the professional world, including my mother. Indeed, in terms of numbers, there is a balance between male and female labor force. This is what will bring equality between men and women in all things without distinction. From my mother’s experience, women who hold important positions in the company is able to provide a significant contribution in improving the performance of the company or institution. From this I believe that the courage to face fear, convinced that women have the potential to reach their goal. I hope, it can encourage women in top positions.

Bogor Agricultural University

Petrol Talks

Petrol , petrol , petrol rises in your prices,
Is a public crisis.
Dear please shed away your anger,
Come down and save us from this danger.
Middle class family we are,
My college is very far.
Academically sound I am,
“One day I’ ll be a star “, says my mam.
Your hype may affect my attendance,
Henceforth , ultimately my performance.
Pie by pie, my father saves money,
For my sister’s marriage , for her dowry.
Without decent dowry it would be impossible to set her well, 
In fact her life would be a living hell.
This is the irony of today,
Not even education could root out this malaise of yesterday.
I get a limited pocket money,
My girlfriend’s name is Emily.
My father is planning to cut down my pocket money,
With that how will I keep happy my honey ?
As I wouldn’t be able to buy her chocolates , ice – cream and make up,
Only and only you Mr. Petrol would be responsible for our break up.
I am begging you , that doesn’t mean you should be on cloud nine,
This is merely the problem of mine.
There are millions in this country struggling,
Come down or else they ‘ ll go for smuggling.
Since a long time I am waiting for your reply,
God give me wings so that I can fly.
Mr. Petrol I have been pleading,
My knees are literally bleeding.
All right you keep yourself mum,
I should sell my bike and keep that sum.
With that I’ll buy a horse or a camel,
What a perfect idea of reducing cost of travel !
Hey ! by that I ‘ ll revive up the old trends,
Are you all with me my dear friends ?

Nabila Khan

Peoples Dental Academy

nabila.alikhan@yahoo.co.in

who says…IT NEVER TOO LATE !

Just like a million stories around us, some of which we see, some of which we feel and some of which we never care about. From the pages of the diary of my life comes a story which will seem very common to you. I guess am just a common man and yes it was a love story, at least that’s what i call it.

yuk was what i used to call her. coz i never really liked her name, well just another aspect of me [CHOOSY], exactly what she used to call me. Apparently she was my classmate in 11th and 12th std. but i was a SHY person, again as she called me so we never really talked. She was my orkut friend though and we used to exchange scraps, it may sound funny but I even scraped her one day to not take me wrong coz I never talk to her in class, the place i was from was too orthodox, after which she replied its fine with her. 

It apparently began on 9th November 2009,I was in 12th std. now, just after our excursion tour to Mount Abu, on which i was the leader, so you know we had small chats. on that day she called me, i still remember that day, it was Diwali i actually left my no. in her messages and asked her to call as I wanted to exchange pics. I was standing on the roof of my granny’s house helping my grandfather, a wonderful day in my memories.

After that it went from just friends to good friends to close friends to bestest buddies to can’t live without friends, it all so went automatically frankly speaking we never knew how it happened. Apparently after 12th std. we both decided to drop out a year and go to Kota (yes the biggest iit hub), for coaching. our parents didn’t know each other and i opted for IIT-JEE coaching whereas she opted for AIEEE coaching. We both were like 5 kms. from each other, but we preferred talking, coz of different coaching scheduled of ours.Now we were alone in a new city, wanted each other badly. just ti mention we never talked rubbish, though used to flirt sometimes, but most of the times we helped each other with almost everything possible. She even told me that I know her better than her parents,

It was new year’s eve 31st December 2010, around 2 years of our perfect friendship we both partied hard, we both were at our peaks in our institutes things were going just fine, probably the happiest day for both of us. The day i released I just can’t be without her and the day i decided that i will propose her after the end of our exams.

Now the climax, She was complaining me for quite sometime that guy is disturbing her and the same guy proposed her on 25th on jan for the third time and she said YES about which she told me on 29th jan, coz i wasn’t really well during that week, was actually admitted in hospital, she with a lot of fear, a little excitement told it to me, on the day i was very happy coz i was finally back to track on my studies, I was in fact having my dinner at that time, but after that i just couldn’t have my food

What happened next is not very important. I GUESS IT WAS TOO LATE. Though it changed me a lot. They say change is always for the god. I really don’t know if it is, but it taught me a lot of things. Some of the things are still unanswered. Why is it that whenever you are going good or you are just out of trouble, you feel its gonna be alright, life gives you a jerk, a big jerk. I never really liked romantic bollywood movies but after that each abd every moment to me was like it’s just happening to me like that, I guess behind all fiction there is some TRUTH.

So this was me a BIG EMOTIONAL FOOL as my friend call me. I thought I would never get over her, I even wrote a song hoe her. But what my mom tells me, you deserve better, I hope that’s the truth

-signing off
Just another heart broken teen

Archit Khullar

Amrita Vishwa Vidyapeetham

19rocks@gmail.com

Drive Me Crazy… Need For Speed …!

“So this is the clutch, the brake and the accelerator… in order. Those are the indicators.”
I took in each word the bald driving instructor spoke and lended all my eyes and ears completely to him and his speech…He looked worn out in the summer heat. He was barefoot and worked out other pair of brakes and clutch controller on his side. With me on the driving seat and the whole new , New Delhi to be explored all over again felt butterflies in my tummy.

“. . . That is the steering wheel. Grab it.”
“What?”
“THE STEERING WHEEL! Grab it”
“Yeah..Whatever.” I said defiantly.
As if i hadn’t driven a car before. No one including my parents knew that i HAD driven a real car ON ROAD before.
At each lame instruction the bald man, I smiled faintly at him and he rewarded me with a cold look. 
For example,”You need to give a horn at every T-point, at each and every cut over. Okay?”

I didn’t respond 😀

—-A cut over comes—-

I missed blowing the horn
“You missed blowing the horn.”

—-After coming precisely 3 meters away from the point I was supposed to blow the horn—-

I blew the horn xD 😀 3:)

“Why did you blow the horn?”
I didn’t respond smiling wickedly, looking infront and concentrating…

I got bored of him repeating over and over again,”Left indicator, put the knob upwards… Now turn the steering wheel… Press the clutch completely..Start leaving the clutch slowly and steadily… Simultaneously increase the acceleration. . . . BLAH BLAH BLAH”

ACCELERATION! 😀 

The thing is I want a new kind of comedy and frolic from every possible activity I do.
So, Purposely i started increasing acceleration and a point came when he wasn’t able to control it and in no time the car was flying.. . 
I lived the moment. Fully completely. It was like getting the ocean in a drop of life…
The cool summer breeze clasped my body, my small eyes became bigger in exuberance and a naughty grin was added to the facial gesture.

I could hear snippets of “What are you doing?!” “Stop!” “Oh god” from the baldy sitting beside me. I ignored it. Maybe it was due to the adrenaline rush i had, The same feeling i get when i am about to win a race in Need For Speed.

It went down.

I meant the energy levels, not the car 😛
I stopped the car.

“Do you need driving lessons?” He looked at me dryly.
I looked at him back. He looked exhausted and his brownish complexion was a perfect match to the yellow tones of the sun.
“I guess we are done for today” I said throwing it in his face.

While getting off the car, I heard him tell my father… 
You daughter… is insanely creative. She doesn’t need lessons sir.

I was widely smiling. This ride could’ve cost me my life..Yet i finished all the laps… in time.
I could visualize myself standing at the finishing line, the widely cheering crowd serenaded my name out loud…

The dream ended. The reason being i got hit in the face with a football 😀

Anushka Anand

anandnukaa@gmail.com

http://www.anneliseallen.blogspot.in/

The walk of realization..!

It had rained last night, I knew that very well. I could hardly catch some sleep. As the thunder roared at the distance, my thoughts roared within my head. As the rain fell on the parched, dry earth, my tears trickled down my face. Memories kept over-flowing in my mind. It was morning now and it had stopped raining. The air outside was cool and was beckoning me to go out on a walk. All I wanted was some peace of mind so that I could atleast have some piece of my mind intact. Without a second thought I just went out, walking alone at my own pace, not worried about where I was heading.

There were hardly a few souls outside. That was something good. If I there were people I knew, I would’ve had to answer questions as to what I was doing outside so early in the morning. Yes, to them it would all look strange because I never ventured out this early in the morning. But I wanted to be alone. Actually speaking I was alone, because I had closed myself mentally to the outside world. But I wanted to be physically alone as well. Away from the many questions that people asked, away from the noise of the ever active world. And that was exactly why I was a little pleased when I hardly saw people outside.

As I walked, every single step reminded me of a memory. Memories that were happy, memories that were sad but they were memories that we shared. That brings us to the question why did I have tears in my eyes? Why was I sad? What were those memories? It hurts when people you know become people you knew. True isn’t it? And that explains why I was sad. Because someone I know became someone I knew. And it hurt even more because that person mattered a lot to me. And I began to wonder why do relationships on earth have to be like this? They last only for sometime and then they are gone! How I wish they could last forever.

I began to wonder what love is. Was it just another feeling that comes and goes with every passing day? Was it something that was to be proclaimed only on Valentines day and later forgotten and thrown away? Was it something that was so material that money could buy it? Was it something could only be shown in the gifts and flowers given? And most of all was love only the love between a girl and a guy? No… No.. No…!!! I was thinking on the wrong track and I knew I was mistaken in my thoughts. But then I went on to understand myself what love is.

Love is something pure and divine. Love is something that is beyond a definition. Love is lots of caring, understanding and trusting. Love is about sacrifices. Sounds philosophical? It may, but that is the truth. As I pondered on all this, I looked at the nature around. Hadn’t the divine power created all this out of the love for His creation? The world was created out of love and was supposed to be going on because of love. But look what we’ve made of it! We’ve made love just a passing feeling. Committed today and broken up tomorrow! Is that how it is supposed to be or is that right? Definitely no!

But wait all love in the world is not lost. Luckily some of it still remains. But the dark shadows keep it hidden and we fail to see it. Just change your perspective a little and you can see it. And I did change my perspective of looking at things and joy it did bring. I remembered my mother. Yes, the person who loves me more than anyone would. She cared for me before she could even see me. She sacrificed things for me, bore pain for my sake. And my dad even he sacrificed a lot of things for me. And isn’t that love? Yes it is! Precious than anything else in the world. There are people who love me. What about my close friends who are there with me through thick and thin? I was wrong. Relationships do last long and those are the relationships based on true love. True love that is not based on terms and conditions. Love that doesn’t happen today and end tomorrow.

As this realization drew upon me, I wiped my tears away. Folded my hands and closed my eyes and thanked God for giving me a new day, a new opportunity and most of all for this realization. As the sun rose higher, put on a broad smile. Promising myself that I’ll never be sad again and that I’ll try to spread cheer around, I took my steps back home. It was just a walk, but for me it was the walk of my life. With every step I took, I took a pledge to be a better person and to share love, genuine love! The journey had just began!

Reema D’souza

B.V.B.C.E.T Hubli

http://on.fb.me/L4RLc8

Fear

And thy fear commences like a tiny spark
Stays like a gentle flame
And when the time cometh
For destiny and success
The fear rises like a fire betimes
And kindles everything in its neck of the woods…

Sanhita Baruah

Assam Engineering College

http://sanhitabaruah9.blogspot.in/

Sweeping Imageries

Was sitting by the window-pane on one of the innumerable wet days of the season. My lazy vision tried to devour the inebriety drenching the earth till the horizon. Rain reminds me of an insanity that is inscrutable in all possible addictions. Every drop of it brings to us something inexpressible in words…. May be an unadulterated love, or the touch of an unblemished relation, a relation that all share with it. We lose our tears in it, even the recurrent breaths fall in the bait it sets only to lose in the effort of keeping up to its pace….. Only the lyric stays, lyric that is composed by every mind while weaving a collage of many vibrant memories that often descend in after hour downpours…

It seldom showers in my mind like it did that day. Yet, while glancing to the farthest juncture my eyes witness, I suddenly found dida sitting beside me with a smile that had all the years’ love which we had to live without after bidding her good-bye. She did not talk much, but asked a lot through her eyes. I brought back the primitive habit of nestling my head on her lap to let her gentle caress brush my hair. I spoke to her, like I have never spoken before. I spoke through my heart, I spoke through my eyes and then I spoke through my words. I spoke about life as it has appeared all this while. I spoke about the hot rice puddings she used to serve during the customary pujas and I spoke about the palatable pithe-s over which I and dada used to have vociferous combats debating on who will be served the first one. Invariably she never let us know which was the first one to be fried out and served both her culinary gifts that, to our much disappointment, ha d uncanny similarity. I talked animatedly of growing up over the years since she has left the abode and at this grinned with a queer silence which voiced that the very thought of my aging was imbecility to her. Since the days of tiny-tots my age has been a senile entity to her, I’ll always be that little. I told her about how the trees of dahlia and chrysanthemum withered the very next day of her departure and added how I missed watering the flowers that embellished our patio. Dida nodded with a tacit smile as if she knew this all and there was nothing to be prodigal with words to describe it.

I drove the topics from esoteric to those which elucidated our lives more vividly. I fetched each and every relation encircling me and the silence prevailing amidst them. I told her about friendships that were lucidly penned and about bonds that entangle every passing day. I told her about life being an act of mime and she laughed to this. Yet I could distinguish a vague astonishment which was then acknowledging my transition from nursery rhymes and triplets to classic romance. I told her about my pursuit of love and how impaired it has left me at the end. To this she cradled my face close to her bosom. I also explained how my friendships have fumbled throwing people miles apart in ocean of solitude. Tranquillity was much like a quest for pleasant cacophonies these days and she could not miss to appreciate my oxymoron. I recollected those birthdays sweetened by her payassam which now pose as eighteen stand-alone events of life. I continued talking with a sudden vibrancy quite unmatched to the grey that gloomed the world beyond the window. Then came a time when the downpour ceased to descend and a crescent rainbow gleamed elegantly. I pulled my head up and we both stayed speechless for a while, letting serenity to levitate the void which the years have left till this day.

The rain ended and so did the day…. Now an impervious darkness opened up kissing all over my face which was drenched by now, but not by the rain. The stillness was finally interrupted and I found myself lone again. Didahad to leave I knew. But before going she made the honeysuckles blossom. I watered them……

Satadisha Saha Bhowmick

Jadavpur University

A Melodramatic First Year

I remember when I was a small kid, I used to wish I skip school and go to college directly. I watched my cousin step into college and I wished I join him too. Then I watched my own brother get into college and I longed to go too. So desperate I was to get into college. The reason was not because my school life was dull and boring, which was so not true, I did have a splendid life at school but I thought college will be even more fun because I would have turned 18, My friends would have turned 18, limited restrictions and a carefree life. It was then a utopian dream. 

The hunt for colleges begun, indirectly, when I started my 12th boards. It continued for another month or two and finally it was decided, Amrita Vishwa Vidyapeetham. On checking out the images and later the college itself, I thought, alright cool college.

My first year begun unofficially on July 30th and officially on the third of August. It was not a great beginning. Like everyone I was homesick and kinda raped by the shit rules in the hostel. I was kind of lucky to have had some company from my school. Classes were pretty boring and dry. I was dozing off in every damn period and every time I would think if I used to do the same at school. Then I realized that I had perfect company at school, set of friends to have fun with which never made me sleep in school.

By the end of my first month I did find myself friends but it was not that welcoming. Entering into the second month, I made more friends and I started feeling at ease. My homesickness completely went off as I found proper company, yet classes were still boring and irritating. The most fun part would definitely be the hostel life. Group of people gathering in a room and bragging for 2 or 3 hours with eatables and all that, it definitely was fun, that too knowing about each one’s past etc.

There were certain topics which were redundant, few of them being , girls, movies etc.Talking was never boring; we came to know about each other more.

Semester II started in the month of January. It was bloody awesome.

Cage football, practice, vetti talks, anokha, bunking classes for anokha, Green-I conference, Krishna hut, Aleez Dhaba, Boomerang, RHR, City passes, Home passes, Thunderbirds comedy, more vetti talks , fights, patch ups, kalais, birthday bumps, the so called group studies, the renaissance, cage cricket, hand cricket, Sandy dudes, movies, Brookefields, atm walks, the tree outside the hostel, warden mishaps, swimming in the morning, kovai express, cheran express and not to forget the champions league victory…

What a semester it had been! The fun and action packed in one semester and it was indeed awesome.

First year was a combination of fun and annoyance. Semester I was annoying and Semester II proved to be just the opposite.

After a n awesome first year, YB will definitely be missed.

Karthik Margabandu

Amrita Vishwa Vidyapeetham