Random thoughts by Nishita Karun

ABOUT THE BOOK

hen you start college as a fresher it is very hard to make a mark in a crowd where everyone is trying to get involved in something or the other, and stand out. The idea of this book was formulated in an Introduction to Communication Class where our dear teachers Rakhi Ma’am and ____ Ma’am noticed the writing talent that was present in the first year students. One thing lead to another and the Idea of a First year’s book was readily accepted by everyone. This then started the formation of a

book which would showcase the talent of NIFT Mumbai’s 2015 Freshers batch. The book is a step by the Literary Club to give every first year student a chance to come forward and make a mark. The book not only gives a chance to budding writers but also gives a platform to aspiring photographers, illustration artists and graphic designers.

The compilation of the entire fresh fresher’s works is this book called RANDOM THOUGHTS.

Ideation and Compilation By Arpit Anand, Literary Club President Nishita Karun, Literary Club Secretary

Content By

Foundation Programme

Editing By

Akansha Bhatia Anurakti Srivastava

Nishita Karun Nadiminti Sarvani

Cover Designed By Meher Malhotra

Foreword By The Director

he Youth dreams of places that have never been ventured into. It has the capacity of rendering old theories obsolete and form groundbreaking new ones. Its perceptions vary differently, in a multi-hued, multi-faceted manner. And this is the same Youth which is the bridge of tomorrow that leads us from ‘today’ into the ‘future’. And this youth is represented by our talented freshmen. It gives me immense pleasure to welcome you into the inaugural launch of ‘Random’, the annual college book published as the first of its kind, by National Institute of Fashion Technology, Mumbai. With hours of dedicated efforts and innumerable hours, days and

months later, we finally have the much awaited and celebrated with us. As the Director, it is with great pleasure, I say that it is the combined efforts of our young freshmen, respected teachers, my fellow colleagues and the ever so active and diligent literary committee, that has led to the successful journey of ‘Random Thoughts’ from merely a bunch of articles to a full-fledged book covering numerous topics and opinions, displayed in an extremely creative and resourceful manner. With great delight and humble satisfaction, I present to you ‘Random Thoughts’, and welcome you to an enchanting insight into the Young Mind.

Nilima Rani Singh (Director, NIFT Mumbai)

Foreword By The Joint Director

t is my sincere pleasure to welcome you all to the first edition of ‘Random Thoughts’, the annual college book of National Institute of Fashion Technology, an endeavor undertaken to showcase the exemplary writing skills of our first year students. This attempt is the first of its kind, and shows the successful integration of the importance of writing displayed here, at NIFT. The pieces featuring in this edition were written in the academic year of 2015-2016. The involvement in writing has been diligently done by the newest addition to the NIFT family, the young and talented freshers.

Each section of ‘Random Thoughts’ has a thematic focus and has been presented in contexts of myriad fields. Students have been allowed to explore and showcase different perceptions of reality and their opinions in a humble and consolidated manner. I would like to take out this time and congratulate the sincere efforts of the Literary Committee and the active participation of the students who have successfully led to the publishing of ‘Random Thoughts’. After much anticipation we welcome you to the inaugural edition of ‘Random Thoughts’.

Brijesh Deore (Joint Director, NIFT Mumbai)

Foreword By The Chairperson, Foundation Programme

ith great pride and pleasure in my heart, I welcome the readers to the very first published edition of the annual college book of National Institute of Fashion Technology which is the culmination of the thoughts of young minds. This has been the result of hours of devoted efforts and enthusiastic participation of young talent, the budding fresh faces of NIFT Mumbai. As the chairperson of FP Department, I believe that it is within the youth lies immense potential and

the fire to conquer the world. This book has been the first of its kind, with a picture that these young minds have painted about the world of tomorrow. It is a combined and devoted effort of the FP department of NIFT Mumbai, the team of the hardworking literary committee and various faculty members who have made ‘Random Thoughts’ into a success that it is. I welcome you all to the enthralling experience of ‘Random Thoughts’, and wish you, a very happy reading!

Prof. Jomichan S.P. (Chairperson, Foundation Program)

EXTRAORDINARY BY CHOICE

he’s in her late forties. She’s beautiful; she’s the epitome of modernism. How do you picture her, when you read those words? Here’s my guess: a tall, slim, middle-aged woman wearing a pair of trousers and a classy button-down shirt, sunglasses perched just above the hairline. You’re notw even close. As appearances go, she is an Indian female corporate-worker. She lost her youth years ago, in the laugh lines that now surround her dark eyes. But even today, you can see a determined young woman peeping through them; the young woman who dreamt of a successful future and worked towards it with all her might. This grown-up lady smiles down at her past self, thinking, ‘Just you wait, little girl; life has a lot in store for you.’ She has experienced struggle, luxury, failure, success, grief, happiness, and other things, of which she seems to regret none. If ithasn’t yet become obvious - she is my mother. At least, that’s one of the many roles she plays. When she goes to work, she dresses in a crisp ethnic suit, with her shoulder-length hair let down, a no-nonsense brown tote hanging from the crook of her arm, and a determined look on her face. The friendly domestic help carries a laptop bag as this woman trots up to a well-worn sedan that’s about to complete its decade. The car may give in any day now. But, she settles in behind the wheel, starts the ignition and that’s how you know she’ll make the car survive yet another day. Together, the woman and her ride zoom off into the buzz of morning traffic, towards another office day packed with hard work and caffeine. She’s not perfect, but she’s nothing short of remarkable. She spends her weekends

Kanika Kalra

juggling her various responsibilities, yelling at anyone who interrupts her when she’s hurrying about the house. She takes it upon herself to ensure that everybody goes about the day as per schedule, which involves making her youngest child do basic things like bathing, and negotiating the day’s chores with her older children. Yet, somehow, at the end of the day she manages to gather enough patience to sit and listen to her kids talk about their lives. I wonder how an ordinary person can do all that. When you are a daughter, a wife, a daughter-in-law, a mother, can there be enough of you left for you to be your own person? This thought induces varying emotions in me. First comes pride at the fact that I was born to a woman of such calibre. It almost makes me believe in myself. Then, panic with a pinch of dread. Will I be expected to achieve all that? The realization makes me want to burrow into the ground and hibernate for the rest of my life. As the panic dies down, I feel a dull throb of sadness, mixed with a sense of loss. There are so many things I want to do in life. Surely, she must have had dreams of her own? There is so much about her that I don’t know. Her childhood hopes, her teenage dreams, and what became of them as she began to shoulder new responsibilities. I promise myself I’ll ask her. For once, instead of telling her my stories, I’ll ask her to narrate hers. In the end, from a tangle of emotions, one emerges victorious: respect. Respect for the girl who chose to shed her sensitive skin and don the toughened hide of a woman. Respect for the woman who decided to become an extra ordinary one.

“The light that came through”

“Little Celebrations of Joy”

Harshita Gaur,

Swani Kulkarni,

FEMINISM AND WOMEN EMPOWERMENT

o, don’t run away, don’t avoid the term. Don’t treat it like a taboo. It is about time we talk about it. What is feminism?Feminism by definition is the belief in equality of both the sexes; belief that men and women should have equal opportunities, privileges and rights. People often mistake feminists for ‘man-haters’, which is not at all true. I am a feminist and I don’t hate men. I surely do hate people who believe in the patriarchal society, that believes women to be inferior and that they “belong in the kitche India has experienced horrifying rape incidents and injustice towards women. Female infanticide, domestic violence, molestation at school and work, unequal pay, dowry, acid attacks, eve teasing, the list just goes on and on. Why does a three year old girl need to worry about her skirt flying while she plays in the park? Why does a woman need to worry about giving up her career when she gets married? Why does a young college going girl have to feel conscious about her short skirt while she walks on the street when married men, double he age shamelessly stare at her bare thighs? Why does a rape victim need to hide within the walls of her house while the rapist roams on the streets without guilt? This needs to stop. Punishment should be granted to rapists, eve teasers and molesters. The judicial system needs to show such people that sexual harassment is not a forgivable offence. The society needs to stop accusing the victim. The rape

Neelam Kudale was committed by the rapist intentionally, and it is not okay. “She was asking for it” is not the right approach. No matter what clothes she was wearing, she cannot be blamed for that. Mothers need to teach their sons to respect women instead of limiting their daughters from growing. ‘Boy’s will be boy’s’ is no way to approach a boy’s nature. The boys who are given the liberty to act as and how they like, rape and molest woman, are those who easily get bailed out of the police station. In Delhi, Jessica, was killed, shot in the head, in a club, everybody witnessed it but they withdrew from helping her get justice when they were threatened by the convict. Let me give you a simple example: how many lady drivers do you usually see on the road? Women drivers are criticized, stared at, looked down upon. Indian women need to be empowered. We need more women drivers on the road, more lady employees at offices, CEO’s, pilots and AIS officers. We need to educate the girl child, employ women in industries and factories. Indian women can grow with the right opportunities. With more opportunities in hand we women can prove the patriarchal society wrong and soar to greater heights, making India proud. So join me in my struggle to promote Indian women. India is my country, and these are my people. It is my job to do my part to make it a better place to live in.

“There is a world where hope and dreams can last all time....quoted Ariel” Sethu Lakshmi, Group

GOING HOME

Mehar Malhotra

onfused young people turning into adults; still kids at heart. This previous line aptly describes the personality of most candidates at the first day of admission counselling. My mind knew that these were the last few days before I went off to college - the last few days in which I could enjoy being with my parents - but my heart denied it, refusing to accept reality. I wanted time to stop. It surely wasn’t some kind of disaster; a part of me knew it was all for the good, but most of the time, the fear of leaving my parents behind overcame the feeling of elation that came with getting an admission in college. The days seemed ordinary enough on the surface, but the mixed feelings filled me with anxiety. I am reminded of this today because I currently have similar feelings filling my soul, for today I am going home. I miss my bed, and I miss the food over which I used to argue with my grandmother; I long to have good old, home-made dal. Perhaps material comforts are not what I should be missing about home, but I do. This has made me realize that the easy-going life, full of comfort, which I have enjoyed since birth, is nothing short of a gift to me from my family. That is not to say that I wasn’t considerate or grateful for it before coming here, but now, the realization has deepened. I do enjoy being more independent, and doing my daily chores myself provides a sense of satisfaction, yet, somehow, the thought of going home brings with it tears of joy. Yesterday, my mom called me and said, “I will put your favourite bedsheet, baby. Your room will be as you left it.” I don’t remember my mother ever before giving a thought to which bedsheet I prefer. As for my father, I know he misses the 3 AM coffee I used to make for him, and I am dying to be able to whip him a cup again. Even though my sister and I never did anything but fight, I’m surprised to realize that she is the only one I have bought any gifts for. I can just imagine her jumping with joy when she sees them. It’s just beautiful, the feeling of going home. It’s not that I am sad here, and it’s not just me; we are all happy here, but home is home. Maybe it’s because it’s the first year, and I am fresh out of my cocoon; maybe the feeling would fade away as time passes. But for now, I can’t wait to ring the doorbell at midnight and say, “Dad, your parcel has arrived at the gate, please collect it.”

“In journey we never know what may be our next destination.” Ruchika

“The Mornings are so much different when you get up at home.” Sourav Mandal

OUR MOTHER, OUR MIND

Jessica Toppo

other Nature, just like a mother, sacrifices her everything for our happiness and comfort. She gives selflessly, nurtures us lovingly, heals us naturally and overall gives us the opportunity to live our lives. However, even after stripping her of her resources and exploiting her glory, we have failed to return her favour, which today many take for granted. Starting from the NIFT campus itself, it’s sad to see coffee cups scattered around the campus café despite the availability of dustbins. In the girls’ hostel, girls dump their litter right outside their doorstep, making the hallway dirty. On the roads and in parks people blindly litter just to save themselves the trouble of reaching a dustbin and throwing litter into it. It seems that the biggest possible monument that we possess is the dustbin, which people have perhaps mistaken to be meant for visual satisfaction or outdoor décor. What people fail to comprehend is that the environment deeply affects our thoughts and emotions. Cleanliness is neither just a matter of respect or gratitude towards nature nor is it the rectification of our bad habits, but it is a matter of tranquillity, it is medicine for the mind. People should not only keep nature clean for their physical well-being but for their mental well-being as well. This is a wake-up call for everyone to extend the fences of their gardens, open the doors of their spiritual houses wider and apply the principles of cleanliness beyond their homes, gardens and religious places.

â&#x20AC;&#x153; Nature is the silent care taking friend.â&#x20AC;? Arnav Bhandari

THE HEAT AND DUST OF MEDIA TRIALS Damini Joshi

lirting with the dark side has always been fascinating to us, maybe because we live in the light. Taboos pique our interest and murder, is the greatest taboo. Death, conspiracy, desire, shock and horror when served on a platter by the idiot box, creates a dramatic atmosphere. We, consider it our duty to understand the motive behind the crime to predict, prevent and protect. With every new murder case in the country comes a new storyline to be called ‘The breaking news’ for the next month, a new family deprived of privacy, a new national villain and a new ‘Trial by media’. Sometimes we sympathise with the killer and call it a ‘crime of passion’ and sometimes we judge the killer on every aspect possible, enough to entertain ourselves and the social media. The first responsibility of the media is to report only facts and not telecast a panel of so called “experts” feeding their skewed opinion to the viewers. A recent example is the Sheena Bora murder case – “The mother of all murders”, as called nowadays. With every new news telecast the nation gets acquainted to Indrani Mukerjea, the most horrendous, greedy and ambitious social butterfly. Is Indrani an irresponsible mother who

gave up her own children for a good life? Why not? A single mother with an uncertain future who went through the trouble of giving her children to her parents for adoption to ensure their secure future, instead of resorting to the easy option of an orphanage, is highly irresponsible, isn’t it? Our prejudices touch heights when we trust Siddhartha Das’s (father of Sheena Bora) statement that “Indrani can do anything for money” who himself never cared to acknowledge his fatherhood until the gruesome murder of his daughter. Presenting a character sketch of the killer provides fodder to the media like nothing else, but considering the basic fundamental rights of the killer while doing it seems absolutely unnecessary to the reporters. Yes, she has committed a heinous crime, but judging her on her personal choices is not justified on our part. We can never forget the contribution of media in cases like that of Jessica Lal or Priyadarshini Mattoo, but media is at the verge of losing its high moral ground if it indulges in highly opinionated analysis and hurried comments. We need to ask ourselves, what is the role of media? Is it to play the prosecutor and the judge or is it to report the facts?

â&#x20AC;&#x153;Somebody gets hurt when you change colour.â&#x20AC;? Arnav Bhandari

LGBT RIGHTS

ne of the Fundamental Rights of the Indian Constitution is the Right to Freedom, which includes freedom of speech and expression. But, is this right really available to all? Take a minute to think about it, and you would come to the same conclusion as I did – not everyone does. The Lesbians, Gays, Bisexuals, Transgender + (LGBT+) community enjoy all their fundamental rights. Or so it would seem. We talk about making our nation a developed nation, a super power, even. We feel pride in new schemes, like Smart Cities, that we believe will make us a successful economy. But is development really possible, when citizens of the country are not free to be who they are and love whom they want to? A major chunk of society views LGBT+ people as suffering from an illness – something that can be cured by a priest or a pundit - simply because their preferences are unconventional. Is this the mentality we expect from the citizens of a so-called developing nation? Some of the most influential and famous people belong to the LGBT+ community, including Dominic Dolce, Stefano Gabbana, Jim Cook, Jessie J, and Ellen DeGeneres.

Nikita Goel

We need to understand and accept that it’s their choice, their life, and their feelings. Who are we – or the Government, for that matter – to judge them for that? Are we really so insensitive as to deny somebody the very personal choice of whom they can love and marry? Where did we, as a society, go wrong? In my opinion, every person should have the freedom to love, and to marry, whomever they want to regardless of gender, because in the end it’s their life, and they should get to live it however they choose to. To the people against LGBT+ rights, I ask you this: can you imagine constantly having to pretend to be someone you’re not, to be pressurized into living a life you never wanted for yourself? Keeping that in mind, is it really surprising that many LGBT+ people suffer from depression? Try putting yourself in their shoes for once, and imagine having to live that life. For us all to live in harmony, for our nation to go from developing to developed, each and every citizen needs to be granted all the basic rights – including the right to love, marry, and be the person they want to be.

“Herritage and culture don’t teach to deny.” Arnav Bhandari

WHAT GOES ON IN AN ARTIST’S MIND? Priti Bhengra

rtists are born from imagination. The more we let our imagination run wild, the more we find a hidden artist in ourselves.

Most of the time artists are born in the boredom of a class when the notebook becomes the platform of creating something new using God’s greatest gift of finding beauty even in a drop of water. Finding a different world in everything we see is an artist’s greatest talent. This change that comes over a student in a boring class might seem like a waste of time but is metamorphosis from a bud to a flower.

â&#x20AC;&#x153;In admiration of the beauty i found in an ancient egyptian artwork called head of Nefertiti- 3300 year old bust of a queen who was considered to be the most beautiful woman at that time â&#x20AC;&#x153; Yasheeka

THE SOUND OF MUSIC Apoorva Chaudhary

was once walking down the Park Street, feeling off. In a lost moment, I looked around to hear a mouth organ player pass me by. Within a second I felt uplifted, and hopeful. Little instances like these are enough to understand the power music holds - power to entertain, influence & heal. In terms of social influence, it is no secret that many cultures, subcultures & movements were centred on the theme of music. The Heavy Metal scene; the Rock n’ Roll scene, with The Beatles originally being known to have popularised it; the Hippie movement which holds its roots in psychedelic acid music - artists like Janis Joplin & Bob Marley aimed to spread the ideals of Peace and Love to a larger population; the Grunge scene, and Nirvana being the band synonymous with the subculture. Such influence is not just limited to specific groups. In the 80’s, Gloomy Sunday, now known as the Hungarian Suicide Song, was a depressing song which was believed to be the reason for 18 suicide cases all over the U.S. Its depressing lyrics were supposedly found on the suicide notes of the victims. Ever since, the original version of the song has been banned & banished. Talking about music as a therapeutic tool, nowadays its heeling effects are very much acknowledged. Music Therapy is being used to treat various psychological & mental ailments, most commonly for curing depression, Bipolar Disorder, Generalised Anxiety Disorder, etc., and the statistical success rate is very high. Of late, in spiritual practices like meditation, Space Music is being used to enhance the state of mind induced by the exercise. I once visited a rehabilitation centre and I noticed that music & chants were being used by people to keep themselves sane. Recreationally, as we all know, music is the number one choice all over the world. When you’re eating out, food automatically tastes better when there’s good, loud music playing along. I also remember going out for late night drives with friends; the windows down and speakers bursting. There would be no better way to make my day. To conclude, I don’t think life would be “life” without music.

“ Infected Dj smoke “ Prahlad Singh

“We will never achieve the shades of nature.” Sourav Mandal | Group C

THE LATENT LOVE Ashima Singh

little girl, whose love was confined to chocolates and flowers, she was too young for “the love”. But there was this boy she had a strange feeling for. She wanted him to visualize her as a rock-star, his dream girl. Ah! Childhood fantasies. She was thirteen when she had her first heartbreak. Drastic changes flooded her life. She lost her innocence and was more aware about the cruelties of life. But through her hazed teary-eyes, she could see his face. She could feel the warmth of inner happiness. She was sixteen when she was home for a few days during her summer break. Her dream came true; she met him…after seven years. The meeting was flawless .He sat there and gazed at her, she nervously shifted her eyes. Her heart was happy. She realized how much she loved him, how much she longed for him. Those eyes, the smile and the voice fascinated her. She recalled how they used to play together and how he came to the station to bid her farewell when she left for a new city. She was a kid then, but somehow, she remembered. She tried to fall for other boys and she did. She fell in and fell out. But he was her covet. He had a girl and they both were very much in love. His girl was beautiful and everything he longed for. Our little

girl knew they were made for each other. She didn’t want them to break the bond. How it would have felt, she had been there before. Her heart blessed them although her mind cursed them. She turned twenty four. It was dusk and she was listening to the chirruping of the birds in the veranda when her mother came in. She handed her an envelope and left. It was a wedding invitation, his wedding invitation. Yes, he was marrying the girl of his dreams. She felt numb, closed the door of her room and sat there on her bed staring blankly at the floor. She tried to hold back her feelings but at the end emotions came crashing and slid over her cheeks. She could not help but cry even though she knew it would happen. She tried to kick these thoughts off and tried to make herself feel happy for him. Somehow she made up her mind to attend the wedding. She went on the stage to congratulate him on his happiest day. In that one moment, she knew he was gone forever. She managed to fake a smile as he hugged her. The photographer asked her to smile for a photo. She tried to smile, but tasted her tears instead.

“In the war between religion and commitment, love always loses” Priyanka Tiwari

SURVIVORS Katyayni Raj Sharma

‘No doubt they’ll soon get well, The shock and strain Have caused their stammering, Disconnected talk... Men who went out to Battle grim and glad, Children, with eyes that hate you, Broken and mad.”

n the 12th grade I had the privilege of reading this poem, SURVIVORS by Siegfried Sassoon. Through this poem Sassoon talks about the life and trauma of being a soldier. He shows the view of a combatant and that of a non-combatant in a satirical piece of literature. He talks about how civilians assume that soldiers would come back unaffected after war. Post-traumatic stress disorder or PTSD occurs following a life threatening event like military combat, natural disaster, terrorist attacks, serious accidents or violent personal assaults. People who suffer from PTSD often experience nightmares, flashbacks, difficulty in sleep and emotional numbness. Every one in three returning troops is diagnosed with serious PTSD. In 2009, 245 soldiers killed themselves. On an average, five duty troops attempt suicide every day. Is this normal? As non-combatants, we have very stringent opinions about the world on the other side of the rainbow. We assume that because they are strong and have experience, they would come back unscarred from war. But in reality, if not physically then mentally they are just wounded birds who need our complete and absolute support. As a responsible citizen and a sensitive human being it is our duty to understand the plight of our soldiers who risk their own lives for our well-being,

“Warriors survived not because they were lucky but because they didn’t know the meaning of defeat” Arnav Bhandari

THE READING BUG Aesha Shah

“Read, not to conflict or confute, But, to weigh and consider…”

appy indeed is a person who has inculcated the habit of reading in his schedule. Such a person is never lonely or sad, for he always has books with him, in his solitude. Reading, they say is ‘food’ for thought. She grew up in a family wherein her father was a writer and her mother, a teacher. Never did she like reading or even glancing at the images in fairy tale books. Every night before bed, her grandmother would pat her head while she slept in her lap and recite stories of kings and queens of different lands. Not even one night did she sleep before the tale was over, she was so interested! As days passed by, her grandmother grew old and eventually one day, passed away. There was nobody now who would read her stories. Every single night, the emptiness in her heart grew. One fine day she picked up the same book granny used to read to her. As she read word by word, her eyes got drenched in tears. Droplets from her eyes fell on the paper and she realised that it was reading that kept her connected to her grandmother. Nostalgic, she recalled all the days spent with her grandmother, as if her grandmother was right there, reading along with her. Since that day she read every night. Even the fragrance of paper mesmerized her now. Through reading, she grew, not only as an individual but also helped others grow by inspiring them through her thoughts. Therefore, each one of us must grab that book we want to read, not only to attain knowledge but also to gain experience. To grow, to flourish and to develop.

“A ray of hope even in the shadows.” Priti Bhengra

“Smallest things are the most beautiful” Sourav Mandal

CHILD AGAIN R. Mallika Iyer

always thought that I have an aptitude for design. And since I joined NIFT, I was given so many assignments where I could portray my quality, but ironically I could generate absolutely no ideas. Facing this dilemma, I recall my coach telling me to always think like a child before I left for college. Throughout my childhood I was eager to become an adult, but now that I am one, I realize that being a child is much better. An adult has many pre-formed opinions, thoughts, fears etc. And this is a hindrance to their autonomous ideas. “Think like a child”- It is such a beautiful advice. Indeed, we won’t feel burdened if we think carefree without worrying about the judgmental eyes staring at us. Also being in a fashion college, it is expected of me to look presentable at all times. But when I was a child I never worried about what I wore. I had this one rainbow colored frock which I extremely adored and I used to wear it to every other occasion just because I loved it! It never bothered me what other people thought. Life is changing, not that I am complaining! I surely do like this adulthood, but I always miss the innocence in my eyes that made everything believable and exciting. I miss that part of my childhood when I believed that Santa Claus and Tooth fairy were real. I miss that part of my childhood when I didn’t even know what judgment was and that people do it. I miss that part of my childhood when I could be me for me. I miss it all; I wish I could be that naive, humble, carefree child again.

“Let us unveil the real faces of wonder beneath those masks of pure ignorance.” Rachi Aggarwal

“When happiness is not late night parties but high swing rides.” Arnav Bhandari

TALKING ABOUT POVERTY Shristi Sheron Singh

he major issue but something that is very really discussed by youngsters today is “Poverty”. This is a major issue in which people living is a country lack even basic amenities like food, shelter and clothing, and this condition is very prevalent in India because of the inequality that is present on the name of caste, religion and region. But only few people want to be involved this topic because it isn’t that easy to be involved with the poor people as we consider it to be the dirty work that the government is supposed to deal with. Their living conditions only break our heart when we see them in movies or read about them in books. After all in the end it is not actually their fault that they are born and brought up in an atmosphere that is not even fit for stray dogs. The whole issue today lies because of unequal wealth that has been passed on in generations so who are rich are very rich and who are poor don’t even stand a chance. There should be some kind of balance in our society in order to reduce the gap between the rich and the poor. In India because of poverty the whole country is lacking many fields such as in the field of development as you all know that because of large amount of poor people in the country as the major proportion is either slums or village area. These areas are highly under developed because hygiene is not present, education is skimpy and houses just are four walls of bricks. Many national and international organizations are working for this agenda and maybe will make a difference in the future years. But it shouldn’t be just them, but us too because I’m not saying that we alone can make a difference but a little bit always counts. If these major issues are solved India will become a more powerful and a more developed country than it is today.

â&#x20AC;&#x153;Even today some people are struggling to live.â&#x20AC;? Arnav Bhandari

COMPLEX HUMANS Ananya Gangakhedhar

e humans are the most complicated beings roaming on the earth. We have the most complexed brain which functions in bizarre ways that leads to different consequences. But it’s not just that, each brain follows its own, making us all unique individuals. As the brain has different parts to focus on what we feel, we sense, we think, we talk, and with all this we judge not just the world around but even our counterparts. This is the reason, why man-even after being a social being has problems with him around. Life is not black or white but is a wide range of colors. It can’t be right or wrong, because all these terms are very relative and life mostly lies in the grey regions. A thing may seem right to a person but on the other hand it may not fit in terms to someone else. We all are unique and we all have a different perceptive to look at things. And with different perspective the not so existing concept of right and wrong changes. Then how can we judge people still being in our shoes? Though traces in history prove that we have evolved-which is the product of adaptiveness. Are we really adaptive and adjusting in the true sense? Let’s ask this question to ourselves. We all try so hard to imprint our choices and opinion on people and not accept the way they are. If we want everyone to be likes us. Why try so hard to be different from the rest. We are complex and complicated to designer. And that is the only reason why we still haven’t deciphered the actual working of the human brain. With all this, let’s be proud to be what we are as individuals and respect others the way they are, because if we try to be all similar we will soon call each other clones.

â&#x20AC;&#x153;No two people think in the same direction.â&#x20AC;? Arnav Bhandari

PENPALS

Divya Padmanabhan

“So do you use facebook?” someone had asked me once. They were a little startled when I said that I don’t. “But I write letters”, I said.

hen I first got into junior college, I had a hard time making friends. I was terrible at conversations, and a complete introvert. There was so much to say but no one to speak to. That is when the idea of having penfriends struck me. Ever since I was a child, my grandfather used to tell me stories about his hobby of collecting postcards from all those places he had been to, because he did not have the money to buy a camera. My father irked an interest of collecting coins and soon I became a compulsive hoarder, with bus tickets, train tickets, stamps, currency and souvenirs from different places. Letters are little gift boxes (except that they are flat!) with words that people use exclusively for you, and of course weird handwritings and addresses. Suddenly even names like “Aditya” sound exotic. There is something in writing letters that gives a funny satisfaction. No fonts, no font sizes, no emojis or hyperlinks. Plain old words, all broken down to mere feelings and thoughts. Today, I have received letters from different countries of the world with postcards, stamps, coins, pictures and small snacks too (how cool is it to taste Slovak yoghurt flavored tea, or Canadian maple flavored candy?) Most of all, you get to know that no matter where people are from, what race or religion, they’re mere skin and bones and brains. You know so much about them, but never really meet them. Just like facebook.

“Not all those who wander are lost” Sethu Lakshmi

SEEING LIGHT THROUGH DARKNESS Trupti Pange

ow many of us really think about others, about those less fortunate than us? I guess not many. We always want things we don’t possess because of the human quality of greed. Once upon a time even I was among those who are never satisfied with what they have. Around that time, my friends from junior college decided to jointly start an NGO for the elderly, along with an environment club. I decided to subscribe and become a member of the NGO. Till date we have visited two old-age homes and, one orphanage and initiated a tree plantation drive. The most recent visit was to the Andhakshi Ashram, a home for destitute, blind and mentally challenged women, in Andheri West, where I learned something important about life. Two of my friends and myself, we were allotted the work of talking to the blind while the others played games with the kids there. We approached a woman in her late 20’s. While we were having a conversation with her, I realized that she sounded so happy about everything. She had completed her Bachelors in Arts, worked at the State Bank of India and knew almost all of the latest bollywood songs. Her parents lived in Uttar Pradesh while she lived in Mumbai. I was awestruck at the fact that she could be so happy in spite of all the darkness in front of her eyes. That’s when I realized cribbing over a small thing was shallow, when we have a thousand reasons to smile and thank God in our life. We need to stop complaining about everything in our life. If a woman like her is able to see the light through the darkness, we are capable of much more.

“Those beads of light that connect reality.” Pujashree Vatsa

“Aiming towards the sky, rising very high. No obstacles can stop, from reaching towards the top. Sun is alone, not anymore, never stop rising,keep asking for more.” Rachi Agarwal

SEMI-BIDAAI Sakshi Sangai Funny, Mother had never hugged me like that before. On that day there was nothing that I could abhor. And on the next day when she made two rotis less, No tears, but I knew that she was in a mess. It is my last day at home, Out there I will be all alone. Grandma looked at me and started registering my face, It was the arrival of my semi-bidaai date. It isnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t so sad after all, Two hours a day, I spend attending their calls. A part of this new place is mine now, I miss home, a little less. I donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t know how. Will I ever miss them, the way they miss me? Call me selfish, but let things just be.

“She was like the moon. A part of her was always hidden” Sethu Lakshmi

THE LAST YEAR OF MY SCHOOL LIFE Akshara Khare Holding my motherâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s hand in mine Dabbing my eyes with the other This is the first memory of my school life My budding days I remember Moving from school to school each year The above meaning of school life grows transient I now had to cope with Maths, Science, English, and Hindi These thoughts are still persistent Even as I write this poem, my eyes begin to cry The reminisce is full of joy How I wish I could hold on to these days Slipping out of my hands as I sigh With blessings showered upon me Knowledge & values embedded in my mind I open doors to a new world Saying fond farewell with a smile In a few months Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ll be an Ex- Student NCS my Alma mater & me a part of Alumni As I treasure all what exists I promise to keep the flag flying high.

“Everybody has a wild side that they keep hidden.” Harshita Gaur

“Every road is leading somewhere good or bad.” Pujashree Vatsa

LOVE

Divya Padmanabhan

Because of you, I am here, Or here at all, honestly. On those cold winters days, There is someone, Who’d sit next to you, And the warmth when your knees rub, Is enough to melt the snow away. Your irises, Aren’t just eyes! And your lips, Aren’t just lips. They make you, And break me. For, Every time I see you, My heart breaks, Because this work of art that I see, Isn’t exclusive to me. Yet, Just like the seas stay still, And billions of stars and hearts admire them, Only the fishes know, Their depth. Your rhapsodic voice elates me, Even when times are tough, Just an aloha, Keeps my clock going. Sometimes I wish, You get to see all that I see, Even though it’s just our first step, There are a zillion conversations to keep.

“Those paths that make you happy with memories.” Rachi Aggarwal

“True love lies in nature.” Sourav Mandal

DARWIN’S THEORY FRUSTRATED

Akshara Khare

Three monkeys once sat on a tree, Discussing things as they ought to be Said one to the other, Mow give me an ear you two, There is a certain rumor, That seems to be untrue, That man descended from our noble race, This very idea is an utter disgrace. As no monkey ever deserted his wife, Slaved his babies or mined HIS LIFE, Or passed them on from one to another Till they scarcely knew who is their mother Now there is another thing, That a monkey won’t do, Is to go about everywhere, And get in a stew. Or use a gun, a club or a knife, To take a fellow monkey’s life. True! Man was created without any fuss, But Brother! Surely he never descended from us.

“In a world where they may be studing the humans.” Arnav Bhandari

“Balance is the key to everything” Arnav Bhandari

THE DRESS

Diksha Sachan

“Oh so short” as he whispered Her mother came forward and called all the misters To give him a lesson, the chivalrous men came to her rescue To respect a woman, they indeed knew Empowerment is this what I call, she thought When the men came forward and really fought This is the world where we want to live in Where dresses don’t portray, what is really within Passion, compassion, love and power You have what the world needs in this hour So stand up for yourself and don’t follow the herd Wear the dress of courage and move forward Let the count of your endeavours exceed all limits Until it’s effortless to keep high our spirits.

â&#x20AC;&#x153;Blues are not always depressing, they have a certain cool and calmness to it, which should be lauded.â&#x20AC;? Aishita Johri

STILL WAITING FOR YOU Priti Bhengra Another day has arrived, Another lonely one for me. I’m thinking of you still Why does this matter to me? Thinking of you, I still laugh. Thinking of you, I still cry. This matters to me so much, But I really don’t know why. I guess I still love you. I guess I still care for you. I don’t know whether it’s right or wrong, But, I’m still waiting for you.

“Textures are proof of memories washed ashore” Prahlad Singh

“Life is a mirror and will reflect back a thinker what he thinks.” Swani Kulkarni

BOUND FEELINGS

Priti Bhengra

Popped open with the victory speech was the champagne, But what from the victory had he gained, Deep in his heart was the pain, Since hung from the rope, was his wife with no hope. The torchlight only showed the fungus on her body, While he was away impressing the company’s CE The next day’s newspaper highlighted his gain, But not his more deeply felt pain.

REWARD Priti Bhengra The picture on the wall of the house showed history, But a new life began outside the house under a tree. She sat down to write a story, That talked about the world’s glory Even though the many emotions in her, Her thoughts could not stir For she sat through the storm and rain, With no food and in pain. Finally she found her heart settle on a happy couple Even in their old age they found happiness and protected each other from trouble The story she wrote was neither for her exam nor to gain a reward, But the lesson she learned was more valuable than the marks she had scored.

““Almost nothing need be said when you have eyes.” Unati Shaurya

MY BEST FRIEND Shraddha Rao My dearest friend, you’ve left me Standing all alone. My body’s numb with sorrow, I’ve forgotten my way home. I’m lost, depressed, and frightened, For you’re not here with me. And somewhere deep inside my heart, My best friend you’ll always be. I know you couldn’t help it, And you didn’t want to go. But, nonetheless, you left me, Sad and all alone. Although I have my parents And other friends so close, I don’t know why it is But I love you, friend, the most. Your kindness unto others Has rubbed off on me. You helped me out when times were tough, And you helped me to truly see. You have been so good to me But now I let you go. I know you were a true friend And for that I love you so. For as long as I can remember You’ve helped me to be strong. And given me the courage and faith To keep moving on. So with my sad and heavy heart, This part comes to an end. But I will not say goodbye; You’ll always be my friend.

â&#x20AC;&#x153;Friends make the journey worth travelling.â&#x20AC;? Arnav Bhandari