CONTENTS Vice President’s Note…………………………………………………………………..3 Editorial Heads Speak Up……………………………………………………………..4 आवाज़ - Dhriti Bafna…………………………………………………………………….5 Little Things - Srushti Swain…………………………………………………………6 Telephonic - Samridhi Bundela……………………………………………………..7 Raise Your Voice - Lichi Sharma……………………………………………………8 Unheard Shrieks -Jatin Jindal……………………………………………………….9 Voice of the Earth - Deeya Jain…………………………………………………...10 Sunsets Could Talk, Too - Meena Priyadarsnee K………………………..11 Voices - An Article - Tanya Bahl…………………………………………………..12 Freedom of Speech - An Illusion?...............................................................13 Homecoming - Naionika……………………………………………………………..14 Voices - Aayush Kumar………………………………………………………………15 Silence - Nandini………………………………………………………………………...16 Voices - A Compilation - Skandh Gupta………………………………………17 Pipe Dreams - Shivika Singh……………………………………………………….18
VICE PRESIDENT’S NOTE
I am proud to be associated with National Service Scheme, a body that works on the ground level in the true sense and strive to work for the society every single day. NSS has been one of the constants I have in my entire college life up to date. My experience in NSS has been like a roller coaster ride where I underwent myriad of emotions. NSS has made me a person who is more mature, confident, vocal and is certain and confident about her abilities and capabilities. I firmly believe that NSS will always continue this never-ending cycle of endless service. The theme for this newsletter is ‘Voices’ and I hope that after reading the beautiful pieces inscribed in it, those voices will certainly echo in your minds and inspire you to lend your voice for things that matter. Wish you a happy reading!
- VEDANSHI GUPTA
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EDITORIAL HEADS SPEAK UP
The journey as the editorial head of NSS is something I will cherish throughout my life. Here we bring out our newsletter,with the theme "Voices". From being unheard to actually being able to speak to everyone you know through the medium of your literary work is commendable and that journey teaches you a lot of things. Voice has the capacity to make huge impact in the society. This newsletter is the collation of beautiful pieces by our team members. Happy reading!
The beauty of the theme of this edition is the multiplicity of interpretations one can gauge through it. A voice does not needs to be vocal, it can be a thought as well. For a teen, it could be voicing his/her opinion to pursue an unconventional career path. For the parents, voice could be the concern for that kid's security and the lost connect if he/she moves out. It can also be the voices of several women that came out during the me too movement. It could be the voice of a man who was falsely accused by a pseudofeminist. The editorial team has made every effort to delicately touch upon various aspects, and I hope that the readers will enjoy ipping through the pages of this newsletter!
VOICES UNBOUNDED!
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आवाज़
आईना वक़्त का ये आईना एक नई झलक बतला रहा है ।
दल की दास्तां
रश्तों के यथाथर्थ से ये मेरा प रचय करवा रहा है ।। वृद्धाश्रम की दीवारों में मन मेरा सकपका रहा है ।
अल्फाजों से ये वा कफ नहीं, है ये दल की दास्तां।
क छोड़ा सब िजसके लए वह मुझको ही ठु करा रहा है ।।
एक डर इसके ज़हन में है , है प्रश्नों का कारवां।। क दमाग से जो जंग हो, क्यों हार मेरी लखता जहां? िज़न्दगी की कश्मकश में , कहां खो गई मेरी ज़ुबान? समझदारों की इस भीड़ में , मेरा बचपना बस खयाल है । इन सुलझे लोगों की दु नया में तो मेरी उलझन पर भी बवाल है ।। लाख सही होने पर भी, मेरी “आवाज़” पर एक सवाल है ।
िजसे चलना मैंने सखाया, वो मेरा सहारा भी ना बन पाया। िजसकी आहट पर भी फ़क्र की वो मेरी चीखें भी ना सुन पाया।। िजसे सारा संसार मैंने दखाया वो मेरी आंखें भी ना बन पाया ।
मुझसे हर बार जीत जाता है , ये दमाग भी कमाल है ।।
िजसकी खामोशी तक समझी थी मैंने वो मेरे शब्द भी ना समझ पाया।।
इसकी आगे बढ़ने की चाह में , मेरे जज़्बात पीछे रह जाते हैं।
वो यादें भी क्या मथ्या थी ये अब तक भी मैं ना जान पाया।
इसके यथाथर्थ में जीने हे तु, ये नयन स्वप्न भूल जाते हैं।। फर भी दमाग को चुनकर सब मेरी “आवाज़” ठु कराते हैं। 'एक दन मैं बस दल की सुनुगा' खुद को यह समझाते हैं।।
लहु के इस बंधन का उसे एक पल भी ना खयाल आया।। िजसके जन्म पर बस खु शयां थी वो मेरा शोक भी ना मना पाया। दल की बातें तो बहु त दूर है वो तो मेरी आवाज़ भी ना सुन पाया।।
- DHRITI BAFNA
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LITTLE THINGS
“To give real service you must add something which cannot be bought or measured with money, and that is sincerity and integrity.” To serve others means to help others in various ways, it is not to do it for the show or publicity, but simply to enrich and help the lives of others and your own life. I believe that if we took the time to do something, a small act of service for others, once a day, we would all be better off. Your service can be something small like holding the door for someone, writing a thank you note or merely keeping your surroundings clean. Abstaining from throwing wrappers here and there, weekly cleaning your immediate neighbourhood and installing separate dustbins for recyclable and non-recyclable waste could be your contribution to cleaner society and healthier population. A while back we learned about ‘externalities’ in economics. Externalities refer to the impact of ones’ actions on a bystander. Needless to say, externalities can be of two kinds- positive, when there is a positive impact on the bystander and negative when there is a negative impact on the bystander. the most practical example of a negative externality would be the pollution caused by industriessacred rivers left stinking of industrial effluents, smoke hanging low in the air and world heritage sites yellowing to disintegration. But it doesn’t have to be this way, a small act by you can save millions from deadly diseases. Not allowing water to collect in containers kept out in the open, using dustbins and merely spreading the word a huge contribution to the movement towards a healthier future. In this sense, cleanliness is the greatest service to mankind, it matters to those of the high society as well as those living in slums. Maybe you can’t help everyone, maybe you can’t touch everyone’s life, maybe you can’t make a difference to everyone- but you can help someone, you can touch someone’s life and you can make a difference to someone and maybe that someone will be you someday.
- SRUSHTI SWAIN
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TELEPHONIC “Hey, it’s me! Called to say ‘Sorry’” “You don’t have to say sorry, it’s just that she didn’t like it” “I got that and I understand, not every time it should be me who cares for you, after all She is your Wife.” “Exactly, she is my wife and the one who has given me several reasons to be happy! While you have been the reason to my worries from past 8 years”. (She sighed, he resolved) “Yes, I understand, you have to live with me forcefully. The thing which you hated the most. I know it was my fault when I made breakfast for you and waited for you at night. I should have just slept and ignored the drunken you.” (The man prepped himself to speak) “Hope you are not being sarcastic! After all what you did for me was for your own greed. You wanted me to give you shelter, love and my name, because after your husband ran away, you only had me. But, to your misfortune I found her and I moved in with her. She is compassionate and caring. She can scold me like a mother, care like a sister and love like a lover. She never complains and never ask questions.” (The woman understood she had no place in his heart) “Well, if she has flourished your life with such emotions, I am happy for you and I am ready to leave you for good. Also, I promise that in life or death I will never come back to you! So be happy and be safe. I bid you farewell.” “Very well, Hope this is our last conversation and I never get to hear from you ever again! Bye.” (Beep..beep..beep..conversation ended) (The woman who was on a call a few seconds earlier stood up from her chair walked towards a photo frame, picked it up and looked herself 26 years back with a kid in her lap) “I never thought time would fly like this. Old age home would be my shelter for leftover years, I never imagined my own son would treat me like a pain in his neck. He would reckon his father a disgrace. Now, what all I can think is, maybe this last call with you is the last time somebody heard my Voice..” (Silence is spread)
- SAMRIDHI BUNDELA
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RAISE YOUR VOICE
Let it come out, Which is buried deep inside, Because of the fear of some forces. Be it emotions or views, Feelings or ideas, All these strive beneath to transpire and emerge. Come and hear the voice that comes from within. No one sees how you suffer and struggle, You are the one to make it known to everyone. Give an end to the shy fellow, Mould yourself to a new being. Come up with such grit, That it's just you who speak, Prove your mettle before anyone could. Stitching your mouth will take you nowhere, The world is of those who lead the path through their words. Believe that perceptions and perspectives do change the world, So let your voice come out.
- LICHI SHARMA
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UNHEARD SHRIEKS
An aura of pain, full of company continued to create love, but vain.
Why didn't you groan right then, when I ruthlessly pierced ecstatic purity to rags, rags that did moan!
Just can't know what souls they are blessed with, asking even a sin it's pain.
The spear, powerful? Nah!, but those poor delicate threads, each had rumbled, shivered, every bit remorseful.
Why so generous? You creator, giving it excellence in each sphere it likes But why no sustenance, sustenance with love? The sin, how creepy it is? Transparent to joys and quite a good, actually the best absorber to the griefs. Loving a sin is a sin Thwarts you from your peace. Loud but silent shrieks, silent to this world but me
Angels did repent for each woven ďŹ bre. Even the cupid half died on the gold he spent. O poor cruel spear, Yes, you did tear much. But, the eternity kept even the rags pure, dear. Rags, pure yet rags!
Me, me is a sin
- JATIN JINDAL
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VOICE OF THE EARTH
My beautiful mountains, rivers and trees, adorning me, like jewels on a woman. Today, lie injured, from your merciless deeds. O human, by harming his creation you forced even Almighty to wail, still your hunger for money stands undated. Flaming forests, smoky air, dry streams The modern day gifts to me by world progress. Every time you have robbed me of my very own plants, animals and gems still I have given fresh air, water and fruits. O human, you have failed to understand Once destroyed, the beauty of these jewels can’t be repurchased at any price. I endured with patience, you misused me I gave everything, yet you devoured me. It’s time you see my belligerent and vengeful form. When extremes will melt, When the land will break, When poison suffocates your lungs, When your construction flows down, You will realize that a Paradise is lost. You exploited me but lauded yourself, You called me mother Earth But with your own hands ruined the motherly lap to grow. I wish you could hear my cries, begging to cease the destruction and ensconce the beautiful bounties bestowed by God.
- DEEYA JAIN
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SUNSETS COULD TALK, TOO
It was the dusk. A tiny end of the big chase. There I was, longing for silence, amidst the berserk. The sea was to swallow the glowing orange, Only to bring back the darkness, And the silence this heart yearned for. Running away from the rhapsodical reality, In my endless search for Solace, The Solace, nowhere to be found,I stood there facing the Sunset. And the sun faced an embodiment of Regret. She gave me silence Silence, they said, it had no voice. But there I stood, realizing what the silence could radiate. I had wondered, Could Sunsets talk? My lips were closed, with no one around. Yet, I felt, this voice, muting all the Unrest. Was it the sound of silence? Was it the melody of the sea? Was it? No, it was the sun, drowning into another world. With each and every step-down, she said something, that soothed the pain within. It was the language of silence, only to be articulated by me. In the end, there was this Voice, which merged these diverging thoughts of mine into the silence. And there, I realized Sunsets could talk.
- MEENA PRIYADARSNEE K
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VOICES- AN ARTICLE
The reason why we are turning insane is because the voices in our head won’t let us rest until they have made us do what they wanted and what we didn’t. How many times does our mind go over all the things that happened during the day, analyses it and speaks to us as if telling us our faults and good deeds? These are nothing else but voices that make us talk to ourselves and understand what we are doing. No one is a better judge and no one knows better than your inner self what is right for you and what is wrong. You are your best critic and these voices your writing aid. Often these voices make us confused between our mind and our heart. There is an internal conflict going on between these two organs which puts us in a dilemma and we often spend hours thinking about what we should listen to. This is also the time when the voices within us start sounding like Greek to us and start fighting as if we weren’t even in the same room. Many a times these voices start on a journey of their own. It would start from thinking about what to eat today to some actor’s affair to the economic conditions to a limitless journey. We often have no control on these and later realize how did we even reach this point of discussion. I’m not saying that it’s good to have voices in your head like Harry Potter had in his but eventually even they led him to a place where he would eventually have to go and whom he would have to face. The victory is ours when we are able to filter these voices and listen to those that would guide us ahead and don’t allow others to mess with our peace of mind.
- TANYA BAHL
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FREEDOM OF SPEECH - AN ILLUSION?
Freedom of speech essentially means the right to articulate your ideas and opinions without fear of any kind. It is a fundamental right guaranteed to every citizen by the Indian Constitution. Article 19(1)(a) of the Indian Constitution says that all citizens have the right to freedom of speech and expression. The very spirit of it means 'fearless voicing of one's viewpoint'. Liberty to express one's own convictions and opinions freely by words of mouth, writing, printing, pictures or any other mode. However, freedom of speech is just an illusion nowadays. The censorship rights hardly allow any content to be free of bias. The media known as the best platform to raise your voice is no longer 'independent'. Different news channels can be seen working as puppets of different political groups. Censorship of press has crippled the idea of freedom of speech. Even social media handles are a facade of freedom of speech; the options of spam and report no longer let you express yourself in the raw form. Freedom of speech has actually become synonymous with 'ideas that are pleasing and tolerable to others'. What is the point of calling it 'free speech' when you can't voice your views freely afraid that u might hurt someone's feeling? Why name it 'free speech' if you don’t have the right to say what you feel like just because people do not want to hear? When an honest opinion is stated as being offensive or attacking, is that what free speech is? Freedom of speech is as equal to an illusion as a mirage in today's world.
- KAAVYA CHAUDHARY
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HOMECOMING
The voice oscillates Between a mother’s caress and a frosty lie It sounds treacherous Like the warmth of the sunshine that falls Upon the windowsill of the dandelion adorned house On a winter morning, where memories lie unaltered And then the warmth of childhood leans its unmoving arms As it cascades over me, a child silent and vague in sleep The voice subsides for a moment suspended in time beyond all infinities I know My world spins now on an axis of silence Where spilled memories have become the art There lies in the vestiges of my memory the canvas with hues and pastures of the forgotten past The voice softens, like its beckoning me Similar to a mother’s lullaby The sweetness that mellows the longing And suddenly the smog lifts, the pink sky now unveiled The sunshine dances on my fingertips As I finally trudge there To visit after aeons my childhood home The tiny castle of now frosted glass.
- NAIONIKA
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VOICES
You saw it happen, You wished it didn’t, You stood petrified on the barren, You tried to speak, but couldn’t. The dead silence of the night, Only a distant bark, brave spirit You wished to fight, knew what’s right Guts, not just conscience, quiet No help whatsoever in sight
When you choose to stay quiet, When you accept the wrong, over the right, When things don’t go your way, When you feel you have no say, When it gets suffocating around, When you feel your voice is bound, Your eyes scope out, and ears cold When you are done acting cool and bold,
The four legged beast they say Took down the two legged ' beasts' God came down to serve his mercy While your voice struggled tween audacity or courtesy.
When words spurt out like short breaths, There have been around 40 deaths, Since you starting reading this piece, Souls quiet, rest in peace, It all comes down to a choice,
A thousand words, been
Be Quiet, or Free your Voice.
Scrambling In your mind,
Speak up, Shout, Yell, Whisper, Gasp, Thunder
Your upbringing gathering,
Every masterpiece follows a blunder.
To a nucleus of guilt, Don’t like the ending? Speak up, be a rock, or sleep like silt.
- AAYUSH KUMAR
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SILENCE
Is silence the absence of all sound? Or just the absence of noise? Is it positive or negative? I believe it can be both but more positive than negative. We conceive of silence as a void — an unsettling condition that begs to be resolved. Silence in most social situations is perceived as uncomfortable. ‘An awkward silence’. ‘A pregnant pause’. A fleeting condition through which we pass, not moments we relish. Seconds can feel like minutes or the pause in the action can feel like nothing more than a blip. Silence leaves us with nothing but our own thoughts. No prompt to answer or through line to follow. But that is just one way to look at it. Silence, though deafening, is enlightening too. It has the power to draw our attention to our breath, to our body, and to our impulses. It makes us supremely aware of everything around and inside us. Instead of considering it as lack of communication, silence must be treated as a very powerful form of communication. During a speech, if the speaker pauses in between he is trying to mean something. If the pause is very short, it means that he is trying to recollect what he is going to speak next. If he pauses for a long time, it means that the speaker wants the audience to either think about the matter he said or he is looking for some kind of response from them. It can also mean that the speaker is seeking the attention of the audience because he is going to say something very important next. In a regular conversation too, silence often plays a part. Often much more effective than any voice modulation or gesturing. It can be taken that by remaining silent; a person is trying to say that he is upset. More often than not silence as an answer to a question is perceived as a reluctant or shameful affirmative. Silence can also be used to admit defeat. In debates, if the opposite party gives his views and we are unable to give counter points and remain silent, then it is that we admit defeat to him. But all through these silences, one thing remains common: communication. Understanding and appropriately using silence as well as comprehending that of others gives you an opportunity to grow as a communicator. In this process, you’re creating a new way of talking, a new way of listening and a more connected and successful way of relating. Never underestimate the power of silence!
- NANDINI
16
VOICES
She wasn’t born dumb. Her mother made her so She said to her, “keep quiet!
Your voice was the most familiar
Girls don’t speak much”
sound to my ears
She wasn’t born weak.
but it seems so numb now
Her granny made her so.
telling me how less you care!
She nudged her, “we have a reputation! What will people think?”
Your quietness keeps telling me
She wasn’t born unromantic.
of the growing distance between us.
Her brother made her so.
The voice within your silence continuously
He cried deeply, “shut up!
Reminds me that it is only I who cares
Don’t marry the one you love.” Today, she won’t raise her voice
Your silence seems like a noise now, A noise that keeps making me feel small.
because she thinks she is fragile. The searing acid scar on her face was the symbol of patriarchy.
I admit that I’m struggling With each passing day. How can someone talk so much, Yet say so little? Drowned in the sea of noise, Yet neglect the real voice! Let me bear until it’s done And regard what can be won.
- SKANDH GUPTA
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PIPE DREAMS
I sit back and contemplate. Contemplate on my dreams and the woebegone reality. The kind which does not intersect with my aspirations and plans. The kind who’s regions of similarity on a Venn Diagram would be negligible. The chasm between these yearnings and the existing actuality is perhaps the reason why lethargy and wretchedness roots inside me, sinking me within my dreams, creating a hollow, and later, just absolutely shunning and weakening it. But as I sit back, taking a deep breath against the back rest of my bed, I see how big of a vacuum there is between my pragmatism and my dreamy self. How this vacuum can be removed with the same effort that will be required by me to take a leap of faith. It’s like I am a palette no painter has to paint from but me. It’s like I feel, unpredictably, enough, full and ample. It’s like colours rise from within me, exposing my temperament painting a masterpiece where everything falls into place. And these colours, these combinations and mixtures, with their own individuality and novelty, bring out the hope that the unachievable is in proximal reach and castles can be built, even in free space with no gravity. What is needed is just the whole encompassing essence of attainment, called courage!
- SHIVIKA SINGH
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