Archive for June, 2013

Out of the phase…

Posted: June 27, 2013 by CampusWriting in Daily Quotes, Writes...
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“I am out of the phase of being hurt by any Homo sapien”

 

Nabila Khan

Peoples Dental Academy

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Life at B-School… My INMANTEC Days…

Posted: June 27, 2013 by CampusWriting in Videos
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Hussain Ahmed

 Integrated Academy of Management & Technology, Ghaziabad

Solemn Notes

Posted: June 26, 2013 by CampusWriting in Writes...
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 “And when I look back, I wonder why, you let it all slip awaaaay, yeaaa …” rest of the words faded away, giving way to the shrilling notes of the guitar solo that  followed.  And instantly, he became oblivious to everything else. His aching eardrums, the furious sun and that long and lonely road all slipped into ignorance in that moment when he had ears and consciousness solely for the intricate and impossibly fast string of high, shrieking notes which he simultaneously played in his mind on his imaginary electric guitar. He felt the familiar surge of pulse when the notes flowed in a crescendo to reach that peak when the music almost seemed alive to him. He was almost rushing by the time he reached his home, eager to pick up his guitar and recreate the addictive magic that he was listening to on his way back home.

It was then that like always, the spell seemed to vanish. When he placed his sore fingertips over the strings of his guitar and experienced that sudden stab of pain he knew would hit him. After all, he was yet a rookie, his finger-tips were still too soft and his control still too clumsy to manage a progression of barre chords or a solo like the ones he himself worshipped. As he started practising the progression, fumbling over the chords and feeling his hand muscles begin to ache, he started thinking. He thought about the little he had learnt and the enormous lessons he had yet to begin. But he kept practising and began to feel bit more in rhythm every time he played the progression.

Thus went his evening, the way it did most of the time now, practising with his guitar, playing chords and notes. He made progress of course, his strumming became more uniform, his transitions between chords more smooth. But these little milestones were separated by long paths of monotonous practise. Perhaps they were not so long as he thought; you need to have some degree of patience. But how could he be patient? How could he possibly be with that malignant tumour in his … No, he would not think about it. He could not think about it. Because every time he did, all he could feel was utter desperation and fear. Fear that his hand might stop strumming sooner than he wanted it to. Fear that he may die with his desire to play those lightning fast solos still unfulfilled. From the outside he might have looked like a hero, racing against time to be like the rock stars he worshipped. Ignoring the inevitable halt his cancer would put on his existence. But he did not feel heroic at all. His body was failing him, his illness was eating into his physical and emotional strength. There were days when his fumbling fingers gave way to furious desperation. When he could not play as well as he would have liked to. Doctors had given him maximum 5 months. Too small a time for his impossible dreams. But he dared not believe that. Why did he feel so compelled to learn, he could not tell. It was not even a compulsion that he felt. Rather, it was something really vital to him. Ironical as it was, he was afraid of failure like one would be afraid of death. So he practised, to play better, and faster.

His illness, his fast approaching end and his desperation slowly drew him crazy. And that craziness aided him. On the slightest hint of progress made, his imagination soared right up to its limits and in that moment, he was confident of his ability to reach there, when his fingers would be dancing on the fret-board of his guitar, the amplifiers wailing out a harsh melody. So complete was his imagination that he would pour out more and more vigour from his withering body and not even notice the effort that he had to make. All he could feel was that familiar surge of pulse when he bended and released frantically on a high note. His practises intensified to the extent of a trance sort of state when he would lose memory of time, hunger or sleep. His crazed mind pushed him to practise harder, the resulting pace of progress feeding more and more hopes to his madness.

His fingers grew faster and bolder, playing with such speed and accuracy that he could not help but laugh out in delight. His madness had paid off. All that mattered at that moment was the solo of November rain he played. Not his cancer, not even the frightening skeleton he was reduced to, all that mattered was the long, wailing note that he played, the moaning of amplifier as he released the note, the life he had given to his music. The melancholy notes saddened him so much more than his own state. It did not even matter when his knees failed him and he slipped to the floor, for he had played to his satisfaction. Even his failing consciousness could not scare him. And the last thing he could feel were the lyrics, “nothing lasts forever, even cold November rain.” And everything faded into darkness. 

Akash Singh

Hallucinating Reality

Posted: June 25, 2013 by CampusWriting in Writes...
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A man shouts out to far off messiah standing under the cold moon,
Whispering light into the man’ eyes,hoping to see the sun soon.
Insanity lingers through the air with aliens smokin’ in the background,
The man plays a Spanish guitar, re-kindling spirits,
Repetition of things, they call it the pattern of their life bits,
Messiah’s voice echoed around the cave, a cave deeper than his voice,
Man shouted god!!… So was the birth of it, such was the man’s choice,
Insanity closing down on him now, the man ran towards the messiah, insane….
it was the man, it was the end, it was the end of the cave…

Shubit Rakshit

HCL Infosystem

shubitrakshit@gmail.com

When It Rains

Posted: June 24, 2013 by CampusWriting in Writes...
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When times in life are hard enough,

all we have to be is really tough.

Worries and torments make us drain

that’s the moment when it rains…

Keeping oneself away from fear,

does not always make it clear…

Trying to avoid n hiding pain

but somewhere sometime it has to rain…

Not knowing when all this dries,

secretly telling that everyone tries,

to welcome that pleasing thought train,

that’s the time when it rains…

People try to settle things n cheer,

but the desire of mirth is never near;

as the thundering n lightning gains,

at-last the cloud breaks and it rains…
Priyanka Desai

मुझे अब लौट जाना हैं,

अचानक टूट जाना हैं,

के मेरे देश से आगे कोई परदेश मेरी मंज़िल हैं,

और मेरे दोस्तों ने हाथ मे सफ़र का दाग भी बढ़ा दिया हैं ॥

 

वो रिश्ता करके कल की बातें भुलाएं जा रही,

जो रिश्ता सम्भालतें  हुऐ जा रहा,

पर वो बातें, जो तेरे हंसीन सा चहरे पें नुमाया थीं,

वो सारे लब्ज़, यू ईस्क के आँखों पर उतरे ॥

 

तेरे खामोश ज़ुबा में छुपें गुमराह के अफ़साने,

तेरे गुफ़्तहार कि रिमझिम, तेरे रफ़तार के मौसम,

तेरे ईकरार कि वो नज़ाकत,

तेरे दिल से ऊबलते खून के पाक नग्मे,

तेरे चहरे के खामों-खद में छुपें आँह ॥

 

तेरे एहसास कि सिद्द्त,

तेरे जज़्बात कि हिम्मत,

में सब कुछ याद रखूँगा,

तेरी खामोश आवाज़े,मेरी जीवन में याद बनके ऊभरेंगी ,

 मुझे अब लौट जाने दे,

अचानक टूट जाने दे ॥

दीप शंकर घोष

KIIT School of Biotechnology

deepsnkr.ghosh@gmail.com


कैसी है पहचान तुम्हारी
राह भूलने पर मिलते हो !

पथरा चलीं पुतलियाँ, मैंने
विविध धुनों में कितना गाया
दायें-बायें, ऊपर-नीचे
दूर-पास तुमको कब पाया

धन्य-कुसुम ! पाषाणों पर ही
तुम खिलते हो तो खिलते हो।
कैसी है पहचान तुम्हारी
राह भूलने पर मिलते हो!!

किरणों प्रकट हुए, सूरज के
सौ रहस्य तुम खोल उठे से
किन्तु अँतड़ियों में गरीब की
कुम्हलाये स्वर बोल उठे से !

काँच-कलेजे में भी कस्र्णा-
के डोरे ही से खिलते हो।
कैसी है पहचान तुम्हारी
राह भूलने पर मिलते हो।।

प्रणय और पुस्र्षार्थ तुम्हारा
मनमोहिनी धरा के बल हैं
दिवस-रात्रि, बीहड़-बस्ती सब
तेरी ही छाया के छल हैं।

प्राण, कौन से स्वप्न दिख गये
जो बलि के फूलों खिलते हो।
कैसी है पहचान तुम्हारी
राह भूलने पर मिलते हो।।

दीप शंकर घोष

KIIT School of Biotechnology

Unforgivable Pains…

Posted: June 8, 2013 by CampusWriting in Writes...
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Twisted and tangled, are my emotions

Up- down, right- left

Every day a new reason

To keep my eyes wet.

A misery deep down

Every Moment when I was alone

Remembered her promise

To make it a home.

 

Those dreams- terrifying

Those realities- horrifying

Puts my soul on dying

And I end up just crying

Lips yelling for your help,

Reached no where

They are silent now

And yet unheard.

 

My soul’s painted blue

Now you have made me stand in the same queue

I am trying

to fix myself

with shivering soul and body

but my heart’s at your custody.

 

Your thoughts keep hurting me deep

And in the dreary nights

Your painful words

Perilously lull me to sleep

Moon the magnificent spectator

Of our love

Now portray

What you refrained to say.

 

Dawn breaks with my wet eyes

Lips comforting me with your lies.

Hide yourself

Don’t uncover my soul

Unheard my lips

‘cause they might never stop accusing you

For your nips..

Stop calling you as god’s creation

There’s nothing as heart and soul

You chose but

God never assigned you those role. 

Some time you will be brought out of those fake lanes

and then you will be forced to see your sins

how deep you left me

with those unforgivable pains.

Deep Sankar Ghosh

KIIT School of Biotechnology

A Letter to God

Posted: June 7, 2013 by CampusWriting in Contest, Writes...
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On one Sunday night
I decided to write
A letter to the Almighty !
But What to write!
Had I everything to fulfil my needs
But pursuing my desire
I thought over and over
In perplexity
Went away a day or two
And I remained confused
Then I resisted the ideal idea
Of writing a letter
On Wednesday evening
I went to my cousin’s house
Travelling across the city
And observing the febrile atmosphere
Suddenly I encountered with
Some poor people
Felt embarrassed
On seeing
Thy pitiable condition
My mind struck
And I wrote the letter to God
Which I floated in the holy river
And prayed him
May these poor people
come out of their miseries
and come across cheers
In their life
As I was carrying
A bunch of bananas
Other fruits as well
I offered them
To those Poverty stricken people
With whom I encountered………

Amrita Kulshreshtha

Unbendable Scars

Posted: June 6, 2013 by CampusWriting in Writes...
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Sitting alone by the window

And outside its raining

Nature is crying today

Because my heart is paining.

 

About my terrible condition

Now you are not going to bother

My heart was deeply struck with pain

When you insensitively yelled “it’s over”…

My swelled up eyes remind me

What you used to say

‘I’ll never let you cry’

And made me smile each day.

 

Why you didn’t stick to your words?

Why did you hurt me?

Did I commit any crime?

That you left me with a heartless glee

Completely shattered I am

With my mercilessly wounded heart

Because of those unbendable scars

Which are now my unwanted parts.

 

In all your lies I believed

And all your targets you achieved

With my innocent heart you played

God was watching, why you didn’t get afraid ?

 

When you said you love me-you lied

When you said you miss me-you lied

Tell me, what was my fault?

that you left only pains by my side

Here I am, thinking of you

Gazing at the ever so shining stars

wondering will you ever realize

you ruined me with those unbendable scars..!!

Deep Sankar Ghosh

KIIT School of Biotechnology