Archive for January, 2013

A Love Letter…

Posted: January 31, 2013 by Ankur in Writes...
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I often used to say “Let’s go “& after that you were always like “Where? “. I wish I could say “Come with me, be mine forever I really need you & you are just made for me ……” But I just wish that; don’t know when this thing is going to turn into reality, so that I can feel the love around me. I wish I could say, it’s just you who fills the space of my life, I wish I could feel you every right moment beside you in your lap, but these all things I just wish. Living this life is now a pathetic deal for me, which I use to make with this fake world around me.
Once as always when you asked me “Where ? , I replied “ to my wonderland ”. Instantly I thought will she? And just 1 thing stroked my mind “Why would she “. She can be someone’s life but I may not. But ironically she missed my words. Everything went into her ears n then to her mind n then to her heart except this “ to my wonderland “.What more I can do for this thing apart from laughing on my fate again. 
Sometimes I was left speechless to your words, to your feelings for others, your love for others because I knew somewhere in the corner of my heart I had a kind of feeling which I will be confessing fearlessly cause that was not other than “ I was desperate “. Yes, I was. Well I will say yes, I am & can also even say now “I will be “. Who knows may be in a next fraction of second I will be out of this world & will be sitting above my grave and will be looking at you crying. Who knows yes, who knows? That was something special what I always felt for you dear and I really don’t know what exactly that was. Dear you always made my day by not just wishing me a good morning but by making me to feel that you care for me. That was never when I became harsh to you, you know why? Because it drives me crazy when you at least for a moment behave as my girl to me & not even in my nightmare I will commit the mistake of ruining that feeling. I wa nt you to feel the same for me for my whole lifetime. 
Counting of the days and the nights & the every second that I spent talking to you forces me to wish that if I can cherish those moments throughout my entire life. Why every time after talking to you for a long I used to feel I was with you, beside you? Dear this is the thing which really screeches me out of my thoughts, when I used to sit alone and think what I got exactly from this life. You mean a lot but what if one day I will lose you for my own mistake only? This thing only kills me every day, every night and every hour. I was often pulled out of my flawless life and was carried into a world where I can literally see nothing except this one thing called “fake “. The world around me will always be counting the days which I spent happily but will never the days which I lived just crying deep. I am a human too, I too have a heart n which is unfortunately deep drowned in pain and cursing for a hand to pull myself out. How it feels if I found that hand as no t other than yours. I wish dear, I just wish certain things but don’t have really that guts to turn them into reality because I am afraid of losing hope again. You might have heard people often saying ” I am so lonely”, I am too one of them howling for a place than this emptiness…..

Love of your life

Nikhil Das

College of Engineering Bhubaneswar

Hey buddy “What’s up……..Enjoy dude. Have fun.”Often we came across these words in our student life both in schools, colleges and our locality. Even you can see those words appearing in the beginning and end of a conversation in the digital world viz. facebook,sms etc. What is this enjoyment for us now? Is there is some part of enjoyment and fun alike for all the boys and girls of our age?  Whatever it is; I am trying to give my views regarding this.

Some people live for enjoyment. They would like to eat, drink and be merry without caring for tomorrow. For them, life is not a serious journey through ordeals. It is a light comedy. They might mean “kal kisne dekha hain”. In actual life however, there are a few who enjoy so easily, for life is not a bed of roses. It has many thorns around.

The Hindu religion, which believes in “karma” and “rebirth”, proclaims that it is rare to be born as a human being and rarer still to be free of deformities and illness. It is due to good or noble deeds performed in earlier births and owing to grace of GOD, that an individual is born as a human being with good health. Having attained this wonderful gift of being born as a normal human being what should one do with his life? The preposition-“The principal business of life is to enjoy it” appears to be sound and nice. But difficulties arise when one attempts to define the word “enjoyment”. It is related to one’s environment, to the habits and ideas formed in childhood, experience and knowledge. It is a highly relative concept. What is found enjoyable today or in the past might prove to be uninteresting, distasteful or even painful at a later date. Enjoyment is conditioned by time, place and circumstances. One can enjoy certain things at certain places on certain occasions and in certain conditions only. But when the time, place, circumstances or conditions etc. changes, they may produce quite opposite effects.

Another important aspect of enjoyment is that it happens to be highly subjective. One man’s food is another man’s poison. What one individual may regard as most enjoyable, the other individual may find it as extremely boring or tiring. Take the game of bridge or rummy. To those who are fond of it, it may be most absorbing and interesting to sit for hours and continue playing the game. But many find it very dull and uninteresting way of occupying oneself and quote “kaam nai aru…” Thus enjoyment is related to one’s personal preferences and interests. We have seen many people sitting in music halls glued to their chairs for three hours at a stretch listening to musical performance. To those who love this music and understand it are interested in it. This is an enjoyable experience; but there are millions who may regard music, particularly the classical varieties as mere violent exercise of vocal chords. An individual, who enjoys European music for hours together, might be unable to stand the Hindustani music even for a short time. Comment might be like: “Boring….” What the hell is he singing….? “Music  suzic nai…..” etc. Thus the concept of enjoyment remains highly selective and subjective.

Again, when an individual lays emphasis on his enjoyment, he may be causing misery and unhappiness to others. In his efforts to acquire wealth and power as the means to his enjoyment, an individual might be hitting hard several innocent people. He might be enslaving and exploiting the poorer and weaker sections of the population. If each one is to regard that the principal business of life is to enjoy, it is most likely that they may attain this object only at the cost of sufferings of others. This will lead to the prevalence of law of the jungle where “might is right”.

There are quite a few who subscribe to the view that one can enjoy by doing what comes to him or her naturally. This is again a sweeping statement. As long as the natural instinct does not come into conflict with the well being of others, it may be permissible. “Har chiz ka kimat hota hain”i.e. “Everything has its price”. One should pay the price and have it. If one wants to enjoy the fruits of wealth and power, he should work hard and earn them. The exercise of power must be in the interest and benefit of the community and the country. If it is exercised in one’s own self interest, it is not likely to last long. Soon there will be revolt and his authority and power will end. This is what precisely happened to the previous regime in India. If one wants to reach the summit of the mountain, one has to start from the base and climb up. If one wants victory, he must fight and conquer the enemy. If a student were to concentrate on enjoyments only and spend most of his time in playfields, cinema halls, restaurants and neglect his duties then his enjoyment might be prove deceptive. Now a days in our society we see people mostly teenagers addicted to smoking, drinking or drug addiction. They consider it as a mode of enjoyment. Smoking is considered cool and a mode of attraction. But they harm one’s health and shorten individual’s span of life (needless to say see the back side of a cigarette or gutkha packet or at the beginning of a movie before the names of hero – heroine appears). And these practices might cause mental hurt to his wife, parents and well wishers and bring dissatisfaction to everyone.

The approach, that the principal object of life should only be enjoyment lays emphasis on material comforts and values at the expense of one’s family, social and other responsibilities. It ignores the importance of psychological or spiritual values. The principal object of life should, therefore, be to make the best use of life that has been given to one by God. Only by living a meaningful life, does one enjoy it to the maximum extent in doing his duties and discharging his responsibilities in an efficient manner. When people are motivated by lofty ideas like patriotism, sacrifice for the sake of one’s honour or welfare of his countryman, we find them facing thrill, pleasure and enjoyment. Enjoyment comes when one develops interest in what he must do. He should seek enjoyment in such a way that he does not cause pain or hurt, physical or mental to others.

As Mahatma Gandhi quoted, “I eat to live, to serve, and also, if it so happens, to enjoy, but I do not eat for the sake of enjoyment”

Madhurjya Pratim Kashyap

Department of Mechanical Engineering

6th Semester

in collaboration with The AECIAN; Assam Engineering College


Posted: January 30, 2013 by Ankur in Hindi Write-ups, Writes...
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बहुत दुःख दिया था मैंने उसे,
खुदा ने माँ को शायद इस खातिर बनाया था 
ताकि इस धरती पर भगवान के साक्षात् मूरत रह सके।।

भूल गया था मैं की ये वही माँ है,
जब भी आँसू आते थे हमारी आँखों मैं,
सबसे पहले वो ही आती थी इस कम्बख्त के आंसू पोछने को,
आज भी रोती है वो हमारे चले आने के गम में,
शायद मैं यह भूल गया था की 
“माँ तो माँ ही होती है आंखिर”।।

जब भी मैं निकला करता था धुप मैं,
अपने आँचल से छाँव दिया करती थी वो,
और खुद चिलचिलाती धुप मैं जला करती थी वो,
कितनी भोली होती है उसकी सूरत??
खुद के ऊपर धुप और मेरे ऊपर प्यार का छाँव,
आज भी रोती है वो हमारे चले आने के गम में,
शायद मैं यह भूल गया था की 
“माँ तो माँ ही होती है आंखिर”।।

हर पल उसने ख़ुशी और प्यार दिया,
बदले मैं मैंने सिर्फ और सिर्फ गम और आंसू दिया।
अनगिनत दुःख दिया था मैंने उसे 
पर फिर भी हँसते-हँसते सह जाती थी वो,
आज भी रोती है वो हमारे चले आने के गम में,
शायद मैं यह भूल गया था की 
“माँ तो माँ ही होती है आंखिर”।।

आज मुझे एहसास हुआ है खुदा,
क्यूँ देता है उसे तू एक जुकाम भी??
वो तो कभी भी इस दुःख का हकदार न थी??
क्यूँ देता है तू दुःख उस??
मेरी दी हुई दर्द क्या कम कष्टदायक थी??
माँ का क़र्ज़ तो संतान ही अदा करता है ना?
आज भी रोती है वो हमारे चले आने के गम में,
शायद मैं यह भूल गया था की 
“माँ तो माँ ही होती है आंखिर”।।

हर रोज़ तुम्हारे दर पर दीये जलाया करूँगा,
फिर कभी न उसे रुलाऊंगा,
कभी मन न भरेगा हमारा प्यार से उसका,
माँ की जरुरत भला किसे न होगी??
आज भी रोती है वो हमारे चले आने के गम में,
शायद मैं यह भूल गया था की 
“माँ तो माँ ही होती है आंखिर”।।

उसके हर मुश्किलों को हमारे पास भेज दिया कर,
आंखिर माँ की जरुरत कब और किसे कहाँ-कब न होती??
आज भी रोती है वो हमारे चले आने के गम में,
शायद मैं यह भूल गया था की 
“माँ तो माँ ही होती है आंखिर”।।

मेरी हर ख़ुशी मुझसे ले ले तू ,
पर बदले मैं मेरी माँ को हमेशा खुश रख तू।
मेरी तन्हाईयों का और कोई साथी न हो सकता,
आंखिर माँ किसी को भला थोरे ही बार बार मिलती??
आज भी रोती है वो हमारे चले आने के गम में,
शायद मैं यह भूल गया था की 
“माँ तो माँ ही होती है आंखिर”।।

Sujeet Kumar

NIFT Bangalore

The Incomplete Conversation

Posted: January 30, 2013 by Ankur in Writes...

Evrytime i get time with my self…i find something missing ,
its not something…its the someone whom i pretend to forget…but the memories are some stuff not under my control….
And to add to the fire there are lot many sad songs and when u are in such circumstances u feel the song is just for u… God knows why they make such songs…
And if u are a smoker , then a ciggarette is must to add to the mood…and then u go…pick the cell…get d number think twice , cut the almost made call thrice…and with last puff of ciggarette there u go….
The phone rings and suddenly u feel u have calmed 390 percent… And then it goes like this….
The phone rang almost to its last ring….and when felt to hang up the call , suddenly ring stopd …and there was it the most sweet and beautiful “hello” in world… Atleast for me…and like always her voice panicked me …evry plan in mind was put into and mixer and got a whroom…
I wanted to say i miss i said how are u ?
Fyn she said…
I wanted to say i am dying without u bt i said how are studies going on ?
Reply was same as previous just a bit low than before…
I wanted to say i cant be widout u…
I wanted to say u r in my mind…
I wanted to ask why are u nt wid me was my mistake so big ?
I wanted to shout…i wanted to open my heart before her…
But i didnt …she said she has to study and i said take care…
All my thaughts were buried back…and got myself back to my pretend to forget life with some movie named doomsday ,..
But more than dialogues i could hear the incomplete conversation i just had….consoling my heart…consoling my mind….
And them sum1 tags u in these lines…
“Naa jane kab se…
Ummeedein kuch baaki hain…
Mujhe phir bhi teri yaad …
Kyu aati hain…

Anurag Kumar



Posted: January 29, 2013 by Ankur in Writes...

Isliy hmene mahfil me jana chor diya e sanam
ki tere naam ka koi jaam hum pi na jae,

teri galiyo me aana chor diya isliy
khi koi shaam tere naam ho na jae,

bhula jana muje shaam-o-sahr iss kadr
ki bevakt teri yaad muje aa na jae,

roz krti thi jo mulakate tumse ab talk
milna na rah me,mulakat khi ho na jae,

jo aag buj na pai h abtalk
kuch esa kr ki uss aag me ab jal na jae,

tu chala b gya to gum na krege hum
mgr kuch ess terh jaa,
ki hum tuje bhula na pae||<3

Gayatri Choudhary

SPSU (udaipur)

The Girl in Golden Zardosi

Posted: January 29, 2013 by Ankur in Writes...
Tags: ,

I woke up to shafts of rain whizzing down the window pane that dispersed into tiny water droplets tracing the wholesome of the drenched glass pane. The gray sky above those rain soaked olive lawns never fails to denture the euphoric monsoon; it resembled more of a misty winter morning. I stood stark against the faint glare of the rain braving window gazing at the ‘wet world’ stretched to the farthest extent of my sight. It was quiet cold. The prolonged shower had evaporated the realms of torrid summer to be condensed by joy of relief. I saw through the canopy of the massively built palm tree surging to shelter the grey necked falcon as tickling water drops sent fits of cold through the predator’s scales. The boisterous streaming of the rain by now had got through my lousy genes. The clamminess of the setting pleaded to unnerve my bolts, I wanted to go out and relish the torrents hit my body shoving off decades of reluctance. I wanted to walk those muddy lane s bare footed. I wanted to cajole with her strolling in deliquescence through the heavy downpour, hand in hand on the shores of a ripple faced Ganges. The erring silence within and the downpour outside…left me cradled in the clasp of romance…

The phone ring blissfully nudges the serene silence. 
“Hey, what’s up baby? Missing me in the monsoon??” Amrita chuckled.
“Sooooo much” I replied clearing my throat.
“Hmm…You sound sleepy! Not going to office today? “She asked.
“Nah, took a leave…will go out with mom for some shopping. By the way where are you?” I spoke trying to scrap off the remnant sleep.
“Just reached office…Was caught in rain…I missed you too…” she said cozily.
By then my mind was galloping down the tracks of imagination for nothing could be more beautiful than a rain sodden Amrita. I loved the way her silken strands of hair stuck to her dimply cheek and I never felt tired to put it neatly behind her ears. Every touch of her made my ‘feel good’ hormones squirt into every possible ducts. Drops of rain that rolled down her face only to tangle amidst her undulating eye lashes making her wink it out; multiplies my desire to smooch her. She looks so kissable whenever she winked. She winked often, I loved kissing. Her jovial smile steadily creeping up to those crimson lips transformed every single melancholy of mine to heartfelt melody. She was my most precious belonging. She was the reason for my happiness. She was the vision for my dreams. She was the shelter to my soul…

“Where are you dear??” she spoke anxiously.
“Here itself” came my apt reply, I was still so much taken into fantasizing her.
“Umm…Okay…You can feel me later” She said and I could almost visualize her lips curving into a smile on the other side of the phone and finally she broke into laughter. ‘She reads me so well.’ I wondered.
I was also smiling and then I remembered something to say. I wish I wouldn’t have said so…
“Amrita, I think you should quit your job now…It’s only three months to go before we get married…” I spoke mind calculating so many consequences of the same.
“Two more months’ baby…Please…I promise in one month I shall learn to cook all your favorite dishes…Please” She spoke like pre school kids and that had set my heart melting into blobs of emotions.
“It’s not that dear…I am serious, you HAVE to quit…” May be for the first time ever, I chose to modulate my voice to sound stern to Amrita. 
“But, why??” 
“Because my mom doesn’t prefer her bahu working even after her marriage is finalized” I said sounding like a nineteenth century Indian.
“What do you mean?? I work here; I am not here to check out guys, that I cannot work after my marriage is fixed.”
I found myself locating equilibrium between my mom’s ideologies and Amrita’s pleading behavior. I was clueless.
“Please dear, just two months nah…Anyways, got some work, I will hang up now. Bye.” She hastily spoke and ended the call.

I still stood their with images of a pleading Amrita, whom I can’t say a ‘no’ to…I never had till date and my mom’s ‘what-will-people-say-if-they-get-to-hear-bahu-going-out-everyday-when-she-is-supposed-to-get-married-in-a-while’ concept towering up to my full height and almost choking me. Amrita and I had been in a relation since my college days. Currently she is working in some not so renowned private sector compared to my big named INFOSYS. I worked my ass off convincing my people to agree to a love marriage and now when things are set, new problems appear in the picture.
‘MAN PROPOSES AND GOD DISPOSES’ this much used idiom now appears so true to me. I was standing to numb senses gazing at the rain that had turned drizzle by now. I wanted to jump into conclusions but consequence loomed large and heavy. Nothing seemed going my way. I walked out of my room frustrated.

I saw my mom putting up breakfast on the table. I didn’t say a word. My silence was noticed.
‘Any issues beta? , You look upset.” She questioned to my agitation, standing at the reason of it.
“Amrita won’t quit” I said splashing cold water on my face and in the mirror I looked at her face draining its color. She stood robbed off life glancing at me.
“She has to” she added and headed towards the kitchen.
“Why is it so necessary??” I said with a ‘please-let-it-go’ tone in my voice.
“Look beta, firstly we are allowing you for a Love marriage. There is already lot of talks going around in our family regarding you being a spoilt kid marrying his own choice of girl. We are already facing so much of humiliations and above it we cannot afford our bahu to go out and work at this stage. People will spread rumors.” She paused for my answer. But I was speechless. I was going nuts in my head trying to digest whatever she said; she made me feel guilty for being in love. It felt like someone struck my heart with a hammer. I wanted to get out of that place immediately. I wanted to get back to Amrita; the only person whom I can be at peace with. I stood their holding back my tears because shedding them won’t affect my mom. I felt like standing on a quick sand hump that pulled me down every second. 
“Have your breakfast and get ready. We need to shop as well.” She left out a blatant order.

I went back to my room and was standing affirmed by the window as tears rolled down my cheeks. I was sobbing like a kid who had lost his favorite toy. My phone rang back. It was Amrita.
“Hmm bolo….” I spoke managing to dissolve the lump in my throat. I didn’t succeed. 
“Why are you crying baby? Kya hua tumko?” I could sense her discomfort at my grief and then how can I afford to go against someone who cares for me so much. I just can’t..!!

“I want to see you today…please…” I almost begged to her for she was the one who holds my hand when the entire world waves to me.
“Sure Honey….but please don’t cry nah…please…tell me what is the problem??” She nagged for the reason. 
“I will let you know” I replied her controlling any further hiccups.
“Okay; then see me at South City mall at six. I too wanted to see you and that’s why I called because the client meeting is cancelled and I shall be free by five.”
“Oh! That’s great…See you then. Take care.” I let a sigh of relief.
“Love you. Bye” she said and hung up.

Once again silence prevailed in my room as I wiped the tears of my eyes. The drizzle had stopped by now. Everything seemed so rejuvenating. The soft sun beams in the western sky glistening off the rain wetted grassy lawns; the unripe buds swaying in the tenderness of the cool breeze, the vibrant spectrum adorning the soft texture of strangling creepers, the clatter of innocent hearts to the somnambular movement of the paper boat as ripples hit its edges over the water held streets, the maiden aviation of those chirpy birds into the saffron laced cobalt sky and the abhorrent me perched on the face of an ecstatic morning timidly brushing away the haze of pardon only to inculcate me with the saga of undiminished love…
The placid welkin gradually soaking into shades of red; I just wish my fate could also drown in those bright hues…Just a wish… 

An hour later I was driving through the sun impended city with my mom to some shopping complex. She was supposed to finish up the mile long shopping list of a customary Indian marriage. I felt so kicked from within to be part of this shopping spree. She was gearing up for an event where the groom sucks to clip the wings of his beloved’s wishes; parallel to it was his family who was yet stuck in philosophies of Ram Mohan Roy. My heart ached whenever I saw couples walking by the footpath coaxing love out every single moment. I missed my moments with Amrita. I never knew marriage can take away the love…
In Indian terms marriage appeared to be the legal license of having wage free sex. Love is just another syllable occupying the pages of dictionary…
I was just a bit short of being called as ‘Henpecked’. The tears had somewhat left their stains in my life, I felt drowning to anchor myself between my love and my family.

We reached the very popular Garia Bazaar to romp away with the mile long shopping list of MY marriage. Shopping with ladies is like spending a day on Neptune; it seems endless and sucking; but still I loved shopping with Amrita and ogling at her while she trialed over skimpy skirts and deep necklines never let my grin fade. 
“How may I help you mam?” the sales man said to my mom’s attention.
“Show us some Zardosi.” (A Persian variety of handloom). She replied as the sales man courteously steered us to the right section with elegant Zardosi’s screaming to us to be purchased.
“Mom look at that golden Zardosi with Prussian embroideries…Amrita will look stunning in it.” I said to her secretly venting my wish of getting that for Amrita as I found her concentrating over a red saree.
“What do you say about this for your masi??” And now I totally lost interest in it.
“I don’t know, you check out.” I gave way to my irritation and was heading towards the exit.
“Where are you going??” She asked.
“Need to make a call. Catch you up in few minutes. You carry on.” I said using my thumb and little finger to gesture a call from the exit.
‘Momentary relief’ I said to myself lighting a cigarette standing at the parking lot.
I sloshed myself into the stimulation nicotine made every time it inflated my lungs. I reclined on to the concrete pillar cozily letting out flakes of dense smoke as I found the security march towards me and it was then I caught myself standing beneath the hoarding which said “NO SMOKING”.
‘Oh! Shit…not again’ I mind spoke.
The wide, five feet five, moustache bearing guard came and stood a foot ahead of me. He was about to say something as I made a narrow escape. I took out the pack of cigarette, flipped it open and extended it towards him. He winked at me in partial shock.
“Have one” I said to make him feel free.
He took two and disappeared without a word. I ended the last of my puffs and headed back to the Zardouzi adobe. 
To my good luck, the parking lot didn’t have any smoke detectors.

I saw my mom near the billing counter finding it difficult to manage with almost five packets loaded to its full capacity. My heart sank imagining the bill.

“Done or anything left?” I queried with loaded sarcasm.
“Amrita’s part left; just did with the give away part.” She replied to my absolute astonishment.
“What!” I exclaimed as her words slogged me into insane orbits.

“32450 sir” the guy at the counter said as I slipped into coma for a few minutes. I was sure my heart stopped. But I was happy to be alive, not for anyone but for Amrita.

I let HDFC bank take care of my shopping and handed him my credit card. I did the formalities and left through the exit managing loaded bags with a gloomy heart. I regretted having spent a month’s salary just to make my relatives look sexier…

“No more shopping today…STARIGHT HOME” I told my mom with a lot of dominancy in my pitch as the pain of a zero return investment of my month’s salary jittered every cell of mine.

“Okay…as you wish but Amrita’s part is left.” She responded with emotional blackmailing. She knew I will prioritize Amrita’s part but the fear of losing few more bucks over relatives on that very day had enough goods to drown the shopping session temporarily.
I drove like a lunatic over manholes and speed breakers till mom shrieked- “Slowlyyyyyyyy.”
I had to abide. I obeyed.
I dropped mom at home around five and was driving en route South City for a brief encounter with Amrita, my fiancée. Yes, now I am bored using the term GIRLFRIEND. She had been there for five long years, not anymore. I need to step up against any odds; after all she deserves that stepping up. She had been the perfect girlfriend one can ever imagine. Standing by me in all the joys and sorrows that I had been through in the past five years she made sure that I am never left out. Every imperfect moment had seen the light of joy in her presence and every precious moment became unforgettable. I drove through the boisterous evening traffic as history rewinds itself in the subtle part of my brain. I was atop the resonating Vidyasagar Setu of Kolkata and the twilight amazed my senses. Apart from the pollution, the environment was serene as heaven. Who cares about the ambience…the setting sun gleaming off the choppy waters of Ganges was more than enough.

I attended the call as the phone bell drilled into the subtle mind engrossed in revisiting the history. Reliving the love…

“Coming angel…” I replied.
“Jaldi aao nah…” said the innocent Amrita.
Ten more minutes amidst the honking vehicles and I then I find myself snuggled on to the leather finish couch at Barista. My disheveled hairs getting finger combed by Amrita as I sat obeying silence letting myself slosh into feminine care. I so loved that…!!!

“Didn’t shave also…Why?? Looking shabby.” She spoke as her fingers lingered over my chin.
“Baby I am so screwed…mom wants you to quit your job for the moment, sit back and learn household stuffs….their is so much of talk going around our affair…and I am the culprit amongst them……” I was talking as she interrupted.
“For god’s sake please let me work…and why is your mom so possessive??…What is the damn fault if people fall in love and get married?? Is it a crime?? Grow up dude its 2012….” And she continued with me sitting and admiring my girl. She looked so beautiful in those creaseless formals. Her indigo colored shirt tucked into straight fit black trousers sculptured her neatly beyond the races of mortal beauty. She was talking her heart out and the Italian coffee delight did full justice to our session. I sat fiddling with her identity card giving a patient hearing. I loved hearing when she talked; I basically loved when she talked. The acute movements of her heavenly lips made me revisit our kissing sessions in the college dorm and inside my car in the parking lot of all the malls in Kolkata.
She paused. “Listening…?”
“Oh…!! Yes…” I fumbled as I was lathering her lips in my imagination.
“Hmm…Good” she complimented.
“But tell me why don’t you quit working?? What will you achieve by working two more months…?? After all you are quitting then why not early….?? “I was still rooted to the same post even after she talked invariably for fifteen minutes thrusting a mug full of Italian beverage.
“Please allow me, you will come to know the reason very soon” she spoke over a lump.
She clutched my fingers and hung her head. All I could hear her say was a ‘please’ before she broke down. 
Feminine tears and attractive looks make the world go around. I was just one such specie in that world abiding by this universal truth.
I went and sat beside her putting my right hand around her shoulders and the left remained tucked by her.
“Don’t cry baby please…cool…you can work…I shall handle mom…” I consoled her.
“Ritz you trust me nah…?” She said looking into my eyes. The ‘love me’ look in her kohl eyes sets everything straight for me.
“Ritz always does that…” I said wiping the tears of her cheeks. I was happy to see that priceless smile and her charming dimple that wove heavens for me. She was happy. It made my world. I was happy being her Ritz for these years.
Ritesh to the world and Ritz to Amrita.

The evening had dawned up well. And no ambience in this world can win over this-the dark sky jeweled with stars-the vapor lamps cutting through the vigil darkness-the clamor of mobs-and-you sit beside your girl friend who rests her head on your shoulder. It’s priceless. I added to it by turning up the stereo volume to some unbeatable hits of Kishore Kumar-“O-Hansini”- it was and I find her snuggling up to me. I whisper in her ears- “Easy baby…I am driving”
She was caressing my hairs and planted a warm kiss on my neck. The wetness of her tongue eluded me out of this world. I was walking the moon…!!

I dropped her and drove myself home. The day had opened to the sanctity of nature’s oblivious tantrum and it couldn’t have ended better…I was cherishing the moist imprints on my neck as I entered home. 

“Where have you been??” Mom asked enjoying her daily soaps.
“With Amrita.” I confessed. I was one such kid who seldom lies and my decency makes me suffer the churnings.
I got a dirty look in return as if I had done something to disrupt communal harmony. I only kissed my girl…!!! Just enough to disrupt my mom’s harmony

Later in the evening at dinner table, I confessed to my mom and dad that- “Amrita is not going to quit her job till a month before marriage and I don’t give a shit to what people speak about me behind my back. She is going to be my wife and I know how much space I should give her.”

Mom was left awestruck at my decision. She only rated me as her son and never as Amrita’s would be husband. I was somewhat too grounded being ‘so much of a son’ for so long a time. I needed a change and now I was ardent over my decision.

“Why won’t she quit? She works in some cheap diagnostic institute not in some MNC’s.” Mom strangely revolted.
“It’s not about being in a renowned organization, it’s the responsibility she has to carry” I defended US (me and Amrita).
“That means she does not have any responsibility towards her family. I know all these girls. They go about in those chote chote kapde and trap men in the name of working….” She continued as I lost my decency.

“Mom….STOP IT….ITS ENOUGH…Don’t you dare talk anything about her like that…if she didn’t had any responsibility towards the family she wouldn’t have regularly called you up to know about you people’s health.” I shouted and got up from the dinner table pushing my plate aside. The cutlery toppled and mom stretched to hold it. She failed and it went crashing on to the ground leaving behind a dead silence.

I saw dad look up to me placing a sliced cucumber in his mouth. “You seem to totally disrespect your parents these days.”
I couldn’t take more. I was done for the day and my temper had already given up.
“Dad please stay out of it…You hardly know what’s going around in the family…All you care for is your profession…Did you ever cared for your family?? Did you ever take us out for a dinner?? Forget us; did you ever bother to care for mom?? In all these thirty years did you care to wish her on her anniversary and birthday…Bringing gifts is something which I can’t imagine…Do you have a heart?? Do you really deserve to sit on the ‘head of the family chair’ at the dinner table??”

I had not been so angry for a long time. I vented everything that was taking shape in all this years. I saw mom crying. I saw dad hung his head. I was proud to instill some realization in them. I was proud to make them understand what relation means. I was in tears too…I disappeared into my room and slammed the door hard. I could hear my mom holding back repeated hiccups. She was sobbing violently. I was breathing in a terrible air of living where “Passionate Love” was battling out its existence in some “Demonic domestic environment which had lost its aroma of affection”. I was the one fighting heart and soul trying to instill it once again. My cell phone beeped, Amrita dropped me a message.
“Good night Ritz. Love you. Take care. Had a great time with you today. Muaawaahh….”

I replied back-
“Good night. Love you too Angel.”

Amrita always has a role to play in my tough times. The message consoled me to some extent. The tiredness of the day loomed heavily on me. I rested my head on the edge of the couch and my mind raced back to those golden times we spent together.
I never knew when I felt asleep. Amrita is my morphine; just her images are enough to get me out of these mortal pains. I comforted myself on the couch.

Probably the third date and the first make out with Amrita; we were in the second year of engineering:-
“Stop ogling…bohot ho gaya “, she chuckled seeing my jaw drop at some wild beauties. Yes, I actually did that. I was that one lucky guy to have walked the planet who had the liberty to check out other girls on date.

“Ah! I love blonde cheeks…” I replied and I earned myself a slap for that. It didn’t hurt, it won’t hurt ever. Once you are in love everything else ceases to exist. I was obsessed by Amrita. We were in Pizza Hut; we went their having bunked our college to celebrate our relation that completed two full months.

“Two chicken splendors” I said to the bell boy their.
“No, One…I will take Cheese Margherita…Chicken has huge fat content.” Amrita butted in.
‘As if cheese is calorie free’ I wondered.
“Cool, as you wish” I said and shrugged my shoulders.

Deep down I was damn hungry; pizza was not at all sufficient. It needed a naked Amrita. My hormones had been starving for two months. They need to be flushed. Ever since we got committed she is all the way like-‘we shall do it…we have got ample time….blah blah…’ I was on the gateway of my skiing orgasms. ‘If she is not getting out of her clothes today; I am done, I will go home’ I assured myself. I was quiet a nerd to miss physics lectures just for chicken splendor; it needed something more elegant and what better can it be than a seducing Amrita. I sat their tucking my twitch in between the legs, she was fucking hot. Yes, I mean it. And the perfume she had put on was more effective than any biological pheromones…It was damn inviting!!! 
I longed to get out of pizza hut.
I longed to get laid.
She wore magenta colored spaghetti top and some kind of skirt. I was not interested in what it was rather I loved the fact that her skirt ended inches before her knees. The dress was beautiful but I really don’t care; I just waited for her to get out of it. I wanted to explore her….!! Her open strands were an icing to an already delicious piece of cake. It just made her look more ravishing…
Unclipped hair manifolds the pleasure of sex…!!
“So what’s your plan after pizza hut??” I queried to confirm my chances.
“Nothing much” She said. I thanked my stars.
“I have a plan.” I said, inching closer to my goal.
“Umm…Okay” she acknowledged crushing Cheese Margherita to its sub atomic particles before thrusting it down the food pipe.
“What Okay??” I queried in utter naughtiness. 
“I know your plan” she giggled as I placed my right hand a little above her knees. What a feeling that was; I wish I could keep it forever. I wish I was equally feasible with my left hand to help myself munch over Chicken Splendors and just when I was about to pull away my hand, I found Amrita feeding me. ISSUE RESOLVED…I can enjoy both the flavors at a time. The delicious pizza and Amrita’s silken adobe.
But why did she start feeding me?? Did she love THAT thing??
I don’t know. I let my fingers maneuver the region…!!!

We left pizza hut after Amrita had consumed Margherita to its subatomic state and I completed maneuvering her DOMAIN and headed to the parking lot…!! I never said anything but then Amrita chose to enter my car through the rear door. Now who on earth can resist such a temptation…at least I can’t.
I went and sat beside her and checked that all the glasses were rolled up. I pressed the ‘central locking’ button of my car and the roof light went out.
She leaned forward and came near…My heart was beating to its maxima. She closed her eyes and was breathing heavily, I removed the spaghetti straps from her shoulder and the dress dropped down naughtily. We locked our lips…..
….”Ahh…!” I shrieked and my back was hurting like anything. I had toppled over from the couch while sleeping. I managed to get up and checked for injuries; there wasn’t anything visible. The table clock said- 3:15 am.
I crept on to my bed and slowly snuggled up under the quilt and soon fell asleep after having dropped Amrita a message; it read-
Was making out with you on the couch. 
P.S- In dreams…. 

The morning was usual; I could feel the tension in the air. I prayed for things to get better as I left for office.

The much awaited day, 30th November 2012-MY MARRIAGE
We sat at the heavily decorated mandav in traditional attire. Amrita as usual was looking like a heavenly angel. Oh!! Wait, she is wearing that same Zardosi saree I spotted on our shopping spree. Golden Zardosi with Prussian embroideries.
Did mom bought that for her? But when? I had a zillion questions popping in my head as I saw mom standing at a distance smiling to me. The smile said it all…I felt like running away from the mandav to my mom, give her the world’s tightest hug and say to her that she is the world’s best mother and I love her a lot…!!
Amrita looked so adorable in that saree and under those miniature lamps of various hues her jewelleries shone brightly; she was just majestic and I cannot express the euphoria within me.

“Hey’, she said to get my attention amidst the clatter of so many invitees.
“Yes, tell”
I saw her take out a bright red box from her clutch and extend it towards me.
“This is for you from my end for making my world so beautiful till date…I know there is a long way to go”, Amrita said to me.
I opened the box and the sight amazed me. There was a gold ring, on which it was inscribed with diamonds “LYR”. It meant- “Love you Ritz”. I was numb for a moment. The dazzle of diamond almost blurred my sight.
I looked up to her and she gestured with her fingers-‘Put it on’. I obeyed.
“This is the reason I wanted to work for those last two months, I had been saving for this since a year and the last two month’s salary fulfilled my need” Amrita added.

I was in some jovial shock. My lips didn’t carry a word. 
All I managed to say was-“I really love you Amrita”.
She smirked- “I know baby”.

We sat opposite each other in the back drop of Sanskrit slokas. The priests went on-
Mangalam bhagavan vishnum….
Mangalam garudadhwajah…..
Mangalam pundareekaksham……
Mangalaya tano hari…….

…I caught sight of mom and dad at a distance and what I saw sent me dancing. I saw dad romancing mom; breaking into some imperfect steps of ball dancing. 
The track went on- Baho ke darmiyaan….do pyaar mil rahe hai…

I held back those tears of joy…!!!

Sobhan Pramanik

प्रेम में होना 
क्या होता है ?
क्या नहीं होता है ?

क्या मिलन की अकुलाहट का
है प्रेम ??
(तो मिलन के बाद प्रेम समाप्त हों जाना चाहिए)

या सहारे का ही पर्यायवाच्ची है
(तब तो मिलता होगा
वो हर एक संस्था में
परिवार से अनाथालय तक)

या फिर एक खोज है
सतत ,निरंतर
पहचानने की ,
समझने की , जानने की. 
(फिर तो वो विज्ञानी भी होगा प्रेमी
जिसने खोजा था अणु सिद्धांत
करता गया उसे परिष्कृत
और बनाया
अणु बम)

या फिर है प्रेम
बस होना
हर प्रश्न और उत्तर के परे
शब्दों और संज्ञाओ की सीमा से बाहर
निजी अनुभव 
उतना ही निजी
जितना रहा हों
या रही हों
सुजाता* की खीर
या होती हों
प्रसव की पीड़ा 

*Sujata, a maiden who, in Gautama Buddha’s life, offered the Buddha a bowl of milk rice before he gave up the path of asceticism following six years of extreme austerities.

Neel Parmar

University of Delhi


Posted: January 28, 2013 by Ankur in Hindi Write-ups, Writes...
Tags: ,

नींद न आ रही थी कई रातों से,
न ही आसमान मैं तारे गिने जा रहे थे,
ऐसा लग रहा था मानो देश में अकाल परा हो
शायद ये पहली बार था की ये अकाल अनाज के लिए नहीं था 
अकाल परी थी राजनीति का,
अकाल परी थी सोच का,
अकाल परी थी इंसानियत का,
एक जगह लोग प्राण गवां रहे थे दूसरों के भविष्य के लिए 
और एक तरफ लोग अपने स्वार्थ मैं मदहोश हो रहे थे ।

आज के लोग प्यार में जहर के प्याले पीने को तैयार होते हैं ,
पर उन रूहों का कुछ नहीं जिन्हें पानी भी नसीब नहीं ,
लोग होटलों में हजारों का खाना छोर देते ,
उन रूहों का क्या जो अनगिनत रातें भूखे पेट बिताते??
आज सिर्फ हमारे ही अरमानों का मोल है,
पर उन अरमानों का क्या जिन्हें किताबें भी नसीब नहीं?

उन्हें तो ये भी भी सोचने का हक नहीं की 
ये काली दुःख के बादल पिघलेंगे और सुख का सागर आयेगा।
आज मिट्टी की भी कीमत मिलती है,पर इंसानों का कुछ मोल नहीं 
हर बात को पैसों में आकने लगे हैं हमारे राजनेता।
कितने अदभुत हैं हम लोग,कितने महान हैं हम।
कितनी निष्ठा और धीरज है इन मानवता के राजनेताओं में,
इनको शत शत नमन हमारी!!

हमारी शान झूठे और नकली सिक्कों से तोली जाने लगी है,
हरेक रात के बाद उजाला आती है,
उम्मीद है वो सुबह जल्दी आये ,
ख़ुशी होगी यदि ये हमारे जीवनकाल में ही आए।।

Sujeet Kumar

NIFT Bangalore


Posted: January 27, 2013 by aecsws in The AECIAN @ Assam Engineering College, Writes...

‘Corruption is the cause of all evil in our country’ is the answer most learned and socially conscious citizens of India would give if asked about the cause of various socio-economic problems galvanising the country. While we are all fashionably outraged at the way politicians misuse public money with impunity, a small look at the way we lead our daily lives is enough to show that what happens in the order of millions of rupees is just a bigger manifestation of a phenomenon that is integral to our everyday life. We readily pay money to cut corners; we regularly try to cheat the system and feel proud of it. Worse still, we rationalize most of it by telling ourselves that this is all because the system is corrupt—as if multi-million dollar scams in Delhi force us to ask our kids to lie to the ticket-collector about their age.

The problem is that, in India, it’s incredibly unfair to expect otherwise. Most of the public transport in Germany (and many other countries) works on a self-help basis. You buy tickets and punch them yourselves; if you are carrying pets or bicycles, you buy tickets for them as applicable. There are no ticket-collectors in most trains, nor are there any turnstiles or other setup for verification of tickets. It’s tempting to skip buying tickets when simple probability tells you that the expected value of cheating the system is in your favour. Why buy tickets then? To feel that you are doing the right thing? The problem is that doing the right thing can make you feel incredibly stupid. What matters is not whether there are enough ticket-collectors, but whether there are enough commuters around you who buy tickets.

Before punishing wrong, it’s important to foster a culture where people recognize the wrong.  We live in a system where not letting others copy your assignment brands you as anti-social and unfriendly. The key then to ensuring less or no corruption is that people who want to do the right thing are not made to feel incredibly stupid for doing so. This is where the critical mass comes in. Once enough people opt for the right means, the rest would not be able to rationalise their misdeeds by referring it as collective corruption.

Every once in a while, we hear news reports of a public officer’s life being ruined because he was caught taking a paltry sum as bribe. It is fun to make sport of such people and to make them face public ignominy. It works beautifully—the ‘higher ups’ can give themselves a pat on the back for ‘exposing corruption’ and punishing it. The holier-than-thou common man who has been taught to feel victimized by corruption smells some kind of sweet revenge. We now have a suspended police officer, and a nation that feels slightly better. Perfect. When we foster a culture of corruption and then arbitrarily punish a few offenders, we are not being wrong in punishing corrupt people, we are being irresponsible. It does work as a one-click solution; the work has to be intricately exhaustive and inclusive of everyone.

 Abhinav Bhattacharyya

8th Sem (Civil Engineering)

in collaboration with The AECIAN; Assam Engineering College


Posted: January 27, 2013 by Ankur in Writes...
Tags: ,

Beshak humne pyaar na jataya tha,
Par humne pyaar nibhaya tha,
Alfaso ko kabhi humne bhi aajmaya tha,
Par humare alfaso mein unhe itna bharosha nazar nahi aaya tha,
Tab se hum Alfaso se jayada dil ki gehraiyo ko ahemiat diya karte hain,
Kyunki dil ki baat to dil mein rehne wale hi samzha karte hain….

Sumit Keshan