Do you know what is the sexiest and the ugliest thing in the world?

It is the seductive and destructive power of neatly placed words. It has heavenly and dreadful powers of being sexy and ugly at the same time.

It can change minds, souls, and people. It can spread love, blossom the atmosphere of warmth, and cherish the likelihood. It can create war, hate among communities, envy and wrath among people.

Look what Mark Antony is saying. Look at the eyes of the crowd. How colour of their eyes changing from white to red while listening to his speech.

Look carefully, what Alexander is addressing to his disheartened army. The army who was just talking about rebellion against him is now calm. They were angry, even now they are angry, but reason has been changing. Now they are ready to fight immortal.

Look at the Hitler; he is giving a speech in Germany. I am telling you, I didn't understand a single word from his speech. But that enthusiasm made a goose bumps on my hands. Someone just told me that he talked something about winning the world. I know this is disastrous but I still want to believe in what he just said.

I am listening to the speech of Winston Churchill on radio. All my Englishman wants to end this war and surrender. But see, what magic is happening. They now want to fight till the last man lives on the land Of England.

Look, Abraham Lincoln is announcing the emancipation Proclamation. I can see the confidence and freedom in the eyes of my slave Negro brothers.

Look, what Barack Obama is saying in presidential campaign. I can clearly see hope in eyes of people.

Look at the Charlie Chaplin, he is not even speaking, he is showing some expressions. But I don’t know why I am getting attracted towards him? I am the slave of the words, but he is not even speaking. Why I am feeling that the world’s most beautiful words coming out from his expressions.

I am going to catch these words. Will you come with me? I will put them in world’s safe locker and hide them in the deep ocean of books to hand over to future generations.

I am a true believer of God, but what just Mark Twain said, changing my beliefs. Am I atheist now? I don’t know. I really don’t know.

I like to hear war history, stories of the great warriors, their Hugh empires, their beautiful queens, astonishing palaces and uncountable wealth. But oh God! Suddenly I lost my all feelings about these materialistic things. Is this a impact of Gautam Buddha’s book I read yesterday night? Maybe. Maybe not.

Please someone come and release me and my brothers from prison of the words. The more I want to come out of it, the more and more it is seducing me to stay. I am the victim of this seduction. I am telling you stay away from it. It will swallow you too.

After all the experiments on my life now I am learning what is sexy and what is ugly. I am realizing the seductive power of neatly placed words and destructive power of neatly placed foul words.

At the end of the day, oh lord, I am asking for only one thing. Give me power to differentiate, virtuous and evil, good and bad, heaven and hell, true and false.

Amen!!

- Digvijay Sanjay Patil

LOST

I am lost by the cacophony of events going in my life. I am trying make sense of all the events thinking that they are for the best. But inside, my defenses have crumbled and I have lost the energy to persevere. I thought that I was strong to face all the difficulties in life, no matter how big it were. I thought that I will emerge from the chaos in my life. But instead, I am withering away while losing the brightness of life.

I am lost. There is no sense of direction to the place I am going. There is no savior to help me from this dreariness.

When life did became dull and uninteresting?

I was a child once. A single sight of dewdrop was a reason to celebrate.
I used to chase after the dragonflies in the warm autumn sun. The breeze carried the silks of red cotton tree. They floated in the air for a long time before gently landing on the ground. The nights were always accompanied with bonfire. We used to tell folklores embracing the warmth of fire and wishing that everyday would be as enjoyable as this one.

But, I had to grow. I needed to get good marks in 10th Standard. So, I was send to good boarding school in 8th standard to fulfill those expectations. I missed my house, parents and my old school friends. But, I had to leave them to get good marks. I understood that my father worked hard to get into good school. He wanted me to become successful.

Slowly, I was getting far from my parents, relatives and friends. Every year I kept distancing them more from me because I wanted to concentrate in my studies. I thought that everything would turn to normal once I finished my studies.

But, it didn't. Today I live alone in a room. I call my parents once a week. I still love them. But, there is no one to share sorrows and celebrate success.

I have cut myself aloof from society. The increasing pressures of work make me feel like leaving the place and go towards home. But, I can't do it. I have to make name for myself. I have to establish my name in this world of cut-throat competition.

But as I do that, I am becoming more and more lost. 

- Gautam Pradeep

Little Things

The old man stood at the dock, cutting a solitary figure amidst the ruins of the ancient port that once was the only portal that connected his village with the world outside. Since then many new ports have sprung up and the river that flowed by the village was frequented by several merchant ships, especially during the seasons when the water was high and the weather clear. Clad in a cotton vest and using his oar for support, the old man looked dreamily at the buoyant waters of the ageless river which ebbed to the invisible tunes of the winds and danced feverishly having sensed the impending monsoons. Taking in the patience of the old trees, the freedom of the chirping birds and the mystery of the river in one long breath of the refreshing air the enveloped the river bank, he proceeded toward his rusty boat to find a family of three seeking his service.

“Sir, could you take us to the village on the other side?  My son has been sick for weeks now and I hear that the healer there is the only one who can help”, the man said with a pleading voice made soft by concern. The old man nodded solemnly and ushered the sick child and his parent into his visually dilapidated boat and forced it into the open waters with a strong push at the muddy river bank with his sturdy oar.  The journey wasn't going to be a short one but with the river aiding the course it needed minimal effort from the old man to keep true to his direction. Once the boat steadied and the waters deepened, the old man sat down at the far end of the boat and occasionally broke the surface of the water with casual and non-exertive strokes.  About five minutes into the journey, the old man turned his dull gaze away from the transient froth and looked up at his passengers – the little kid was fast asleep on the lap of his mother who bore a pensive look while his father was looking at the receding river bank with a curious eye. The father was the first to break the silence “Are those river oaks or swamp oaks?”, he asked pointing at the tall trees that bordered the river. The old man shook his head and continued, “ I wouldn't be able to tell. I am new to this place.”  Evidently his knowledge about trees weren't as deep as the wrinkles on his face.

Halfway into the journey, the child woke up with a yawn that seemed to last forever and snuggled deep into his mother’s warmth. His tired and weak eyes remained half open and traced the   motion of the turbulent water that laced the involuntary motion of the old man’s oar.  With an impatient countenance he looked at his mother whose attention he gained with a sharp tug at her flowing garment. Understanding the silent words of her son, the mother asked, “How much longer?” The old man, who was now trying to make up for a sleepless night, stirred and muttered an incoherently reply. Realizing that she didn't catch his words, he cleared his throat and repeated, “No more than twenty minutes with the river on our side.” The answer did not seem to satisfy the worrying mother but then again no answer can ever do justice to a mother’s concern. There are times in every man’s life when simply things evoke emotions and actions alien to one’s age and nature and for the old man this was the moment.  With a toothless smile at the little kid the old man got up, gripped his oar more firmly than before, and began rowing with renewed intent. He completed the journey in the next twelve minutes.

“Thank you for the ride. How much need I pay?”, asked the father as he helped his wife and son get off the boat and onto the slippery river bank.  The old man stole a quick glance at the sick child nestled in his mother’s arm and with an enlightened expression said, “ I do not have a grandson but if I did he would look like him” as he pointed to the child. “Pay me with the news of his improved health.” Then with yet another strong push he heaved his boat back into the water and started rowing. This time the current was against him but that was not what the old man felt.

-Aniruddha Dey

             4th Year Student Of
             The Department of Metallurgical and Materials Engg.

NASA's Rover

A conspicuous absence of thermal activity in suspiciously similar regions of the Indian nation has prompted NASA to spend millions of dollars of taxpayers’ money to understand the reasons behind this phenomenon. A rough sketch of the map of the country has shown that these regions are no other than the lush, green campuses of the esteemed engineering colleges which every Indian parent aspires to join his kid in. Alas, wild conjectures have sprouted to explain this genocide forcing the government to outsource the investigation to a space agency.

Scientists at the NASA explain that the rover detects a spike in the thermal readings of the surroundings and immediately takes a picture of the source of the disturbance. While there has been no disturbance as such in the activity of the region, the truth itself is far more disturbing. The videos sent by the rover show that there is definite movement in the area, although,shockingly this movement is not accompanied by life. The students visible in the picture are devoid of this entity that people in the other well-known parts of the universe take for granted and callously call life. Another video showed a boy spending nearly his entire day inside the confines of a classroom, only to be followed by expending the rest in rooms so small they can put the slums of Mumbai to shame.

A deeper understanding of these readings, the scientists say, is that this is simply because the students have no intention nor desire to be restricted to such disappointing conditions. The sluggish pace of classes coupled with the animosity of professors have led to a sharp decline in the willingness of students to pursue science. Furthermore, ceaseless nagging by their parents has numbed their brains begging the question, are they so different from the machines that humankind invented to do things that they themselves weren’t capable of doing? Clearly , the life has been sucked out of these harmless beings.When NASA presents its findings to the Indian Government, it would be interesting to know if NASA demands an explanation for these abysmal results. Are they simply byproducts of their previous generations’ incomplete dreams and ambitions or, a potential war-instigator, if they are the next generation of military technology brought up to go on and infiltrate the different systems of USA and bring it down?

-Vaishnav Tadiparthi

2nd Year Student,
Department of Aerospace Engineering,

The Sea

This is a poem showing things are present only for a moment and how we should leave some decisions to nature. It will choose what's best for us.

I walked slowly towards the sea,

Leaving my footprints on the sand.

There was a strange attraction that I felt,

With every step I took towards it.

I sat down in the shallow waters,

Leaving my body loose,

Letting the sea decide

Whether it was to allow me in or not.

Soon, the waves rose, and took me along with them.

The water was deeper and colder,

Yet I felt welcome there,

Rising and falling with the sea.

The waves grew larger and stronger,

And were rather resilient,

For several boats pushed down on their crest,

And yet they broke only when they wanted to.

And there I was, floating in the sea,

Leaving my fate to nature

And the sea kept me where I was,

Well positioned, floating, stagnant.

I placed my feet on the ground,

And stood up, but slipped,

And just as I was about to fall,

A huge wave put me back on my feet.

The same sea that caused me to fall,

Was now helping me stand up again.

I wanted to go back now,

But I let the sea decide again,

And it was as if the sea read my mind,

For slowly and steadily

The waves pushed me back to the shore,

Till I was seated in shallow waters,

And the mighty waves reduced to mere ripples.

I stood up and treaded back,

To firm land where I belonged,

And as I crossed the same spot on the sand,

I saw that my footprints were gone.

-Naitik Jain

First Year Undergraduate Student

काकू दा के क़िस्से

पिछले कुछ दिनों से मुझे एक बात बहुत परेशान कर रही है| वो यह कि बालों की लंबाई और शेविंग का अनुशासन से क्या संबंध है ?
जब मेरे बाल छोटे है तब मैं अनुशासित और जब मेरे बाल बड़े हो गये तब मैं अनुशासनहीन | अब कम से कम NCC के अधिकारियों को तो यही लगता है| तभी तो वे लोग महीने में कम से कम तीन बार काकू दा से मेरा अपायंटमेंट रखवा ही देते है| आपकी जानकारी के लिए बता दूँ, काकू दा मेरे छात्रावास के पास चौराहे पर स्थित केश कर्तनालय के मालिक और मेरे रेग्युलर केश कर्तक हैं| (अपने पॉकेट फ्रेंड्ली रेट्स की वजह से)
शनिवार आने वाला था और इससे पहले कि NCC अधिकारियों को मेरी टाँग खींचने का मौका मिले, मैनें दो दिन पहले ही काकू दा के पास जाना उचित समझा|

गुरूवार का दिन है, शाम के पाँच बज रहे हैं और मैं बैठा हूँ काकू दा के सलून में| चारों तरफ लगे आईने, एक बड़े आईने के सामने रखी लंबी सी गर्दन वाली कुर्सी और कुर्सी पे बैठे व्यक्ति के कानों के आस पास अपनी कैंची और कंघा लेकर किट-पिट करते काकू दा| सुबह से शाम तक उनकी दुकान में यही दृश्य होता है|

एक कोने में पुराना सा 14 इंच का कलर टीवी रखा हुआ है जिसकी नाम किसी जापानी बच्चे के निक-नेम से मिलता-जुलता लगता है| टीवी पर सेट मॅक्स लगा हुआ है जिस पर नागार्जुन की कोई फिल्म चल रही है| वैसे मुझे आश्चर्य होता है कि जब भी मैं काकू दा के सलून जाता हूँ तो टीवी पर सेट मॅक्स लगा होता है और नागार्जुन की ही कोई फिल्म चल रही होती है|
आज भी दुकान में काफ़ी भीड़ थी और अपने जीवन के सत्तर से अधिक वसंत और KGP के अब तक के सारे वसन्तोत्सव (Spring Fest) देख चुके काकू दा के काम करने की गति देखकर लगता था कि आज भी कम से कम एक घंटा तो मुझे नागार्जुन की फिल्म देखना ही पड़ेगा|
मैनें कुछ देर तो बहुत कोशिश की लेकिन मैं जल्दी ही उस फिल्म से बोर हो गया| बेंच पर चार-पाँच साल पुराने ‘Filmfare’ पत्रिका के कुछेक अंक रखे हुए थे, उन्हीं की मदद से मैनें जैसे-तैसे अपना वक़्त काटा|
फाइनली मेरा नंबर भी आ गया और फिर शुरू हुआ काकू दा के क़िस्सों का दौर|
काकू दा हमेशा यही करते थे| जब भी मैं कुर्सी पे बैठता था, वो मुझे अपने क़िस्से सुनाया करते थे| सिर्फ़ मुझे क्या ? शायद हर किसी को सुनाते होंगे| उसी टेंपो के साथ| उनके पापा से लेकर उनके पोतों तक सारे क़िस्से वो सुना देते थे|
वैसे तो अपने पोपले से मुँह से वो मुश्किल से ही कुछ बोल पाते थे लेकिन फिर भी अपनी क़िस्सागोई की आदत उन्होनें नहीं छोड़ी थी| हाँ, कपकँपाते हाथों की वजह से बाल काटने की उनकी स्पीड ज़रूर धीमी हो गयी थी,लेकिन ज़बान तो अभी भी उतनी ही स्पीड से चलती थी|
काकू दा ने बताना शुरू किया कि कैसे 60 साल पहले उनके पिताजी ने उस दुकान को बनाया, और फिर कुछ सालों बाद पिताजी की मृत्यु के बाद कैसे काकू दा दुकान चला रहे हैं| वो बताते है कि दुकान के सामने लगा नीम का पेड़ उनके पिताजी से सन् 1955 में लगाया था जब दुकान के नाम पर वहाँ बस एक छोटा सा आईना और कुर्सी हुआ करती थी| उस दौर में काकू दा अपने पिताजी से काम सीखा करते थे| 1966 में पिताजी के स्वर्गवास के बाद से वो अकेले ये दुकान चला रहे है|
वो कहते है कि KGP के कई पुराने छात्र 25-30 साल बाद जब वापस आते है तो उनसे ज़रूर मिलते है और कहते है, “काकू दा, आप तो अब भी वैसे ही हो|” मुझे आश्चर्य होता है कि क्या 30 साल पहले भी काकू दा ऐसे ही बूढ़े, पोपले मुँह, कँपकपाते हाथों वाले रहे होंगे|
काकू दा के क़िस्सों की सबसे अच्छी बात ये है कि उनके क़िस्से सुनकर वक़्त का पता ही नहीं चलता और क़िस्से बताते हुए उनकी खुशी देखते ही बनती है|इन्हीं क़िस्सों को सुनते-सुनते मेरे बाल NCC अधिकारियों के लायक हो गये | और दादा को पैसे देकर मैं अपने रूम चला आया| इसी उम्मीद में कि अगली बार फिर कुछ नये क़िस्से सुनने को मिलेंगे|

वैसे हिन्दुस्तान के हर गली, हर चौराहे में ना जाने कितने काकू दा रहते हैं| सबके अपने-अपने क़िस्से, अपनी-अपनी कहानियाँ हैं|
कभी वक़्त मिले तो आप भी किसी काकू दा को ढूँढ लीजिए और उनके क़िस्से सुनिए| अच्छा लगता है| 

-Lokesh Deshmukh

I want to run

Today,

I want to run;

Run as hard as possible;

As fast as I can;

As far as my legs can take me.

I want to run

Away, far away,

Where reality doesn't follow me.

Yes I’m hungry!

I’m starving to death.

I have no energy left.

But still,

I want to run.

I have had enough,

I can’t endure any further.

The screeching pain is deafening.

It’s too loud to be neglected.

And before it eats me up,

I want to run.

The frustration will feed me,

The reality will repel me enough

To lend me the power

To crush the high boundaries

That separate reality and ecstasy.

Today,

I want to run.

-Devavrat Walinjkar

  Sophomore Undergraduate Student,

  Department of Metallurgical and Materials Engineering