Message from the Director It gives me immense pleasure to know that the Literary Society of Thapar University is publishing this year’s issue of the university magazine ‘Avant Garde ’ The theme of this year’s magazine ‘LITTLE THINGS IN LIFE’ is a topic that is sure to light a spark within and make you appreciate those moments which you grew up with, when you were ‘little’. It is all about enjoying ‘now’, than to think of enjoying something big in the future. The more we seek the bigger and grander things in life, the more we forget and neglect those little things of which life is actually comprised of. I convey my very best to the students for releasing this fantastic issue of Avant Garde. All the best for your future endeavours.
Dr Abhijit Mukherjee Director, Thapar University
Message from the Dean, Student Affairs The Literary Society have always strived to cultivate the intellectual capital of students and provide them forums where they can test their mettle with others. Over the years the Literary Society has been quite active and was extremely successful in all its endeavours. The theme of this year’s AVANT GARDE is ‘LITTLE THINGS IN LIFE’. I wish the AVANT GARDE team all the best for their endeavour.
Dr.N.K.Verma Dean, Student Affairs
Editorial
‘To be or not to be’. There were two roads in front of us when we started. We could have taken the more familiar and less daunting path, nothing more than a mere discharge of the responsibility bestowed upon us. Instead we chose to redefine everything, to bring about a paradigm shift in publishing a college magazine and to reach the hallowed milestone of creativity in the process. We believed, we persevered and now we gift to you, a magazine that you won’t just read but discover something fascinating each time you turn the page. Every venerated magazine has a theme, analogous to a heart that fills blood into the veins of its body. The previous editions of Avant Garde have touched issues varying from money and religion with “Funding Faith” in 2008, to wandering into the enigmatic depths of human emotions with “Voids” in 2009.And now we embrace innocence and serenity with the theme “Little things in Life “ where we try to explore the ephemeral incidents that colour our life with happiness and exuberance. The beginning is always the most difficult, full of apprehension of your own capability to deliver. And then the ball is set into motion. The real work begins. We were flooded with entries and it was difficult to decide which entry would make the cut. Many of the compositions were outright brilliant, and we took it up as challenge to adorn them with the precise presentation. We envisaged a magazine in which each entry was special, sacrosanct. The thoughts of the author brought to life with art and graphics, for we desired our readers to vividly recall every composition. We exhausted every possible resource and reached a new intellectual high. Our graphics team spent hours searching for “the picture” that would serve as the perfect illustration. The designers have exhibited their prowess experimenting with numerous templates, brushes and thus reaching a new level of creativity. We know that when the writers get hold of this magazine and see our interpretation of their creations, their hearts will swell with pride. This magazine will take you through an enjoyable journey with the myriad of articles before you. The beautiful poems, the thoughtful journals, the wise travelogue, the sweet memories and pieces of writing that would make you feel each emotion ,each expression. You will fall in love with reading once again.
Avant Garde’10 will mesmerize you with the symphony of words and canvas of ideas and we hope you will cherish this issue with the same zest that we had, in bringing it to you.
Harsh Maithani
Rahul Agarwal
table+of contents 5
Art of Listening
30 time and free will
6
One Day at school
32 Shadow fax
8
The reform
36 So
52 Living a thousand deaths, dying a thousand lives 54 When being rest less counts
12 Topsy Turvy love
38 Women
14 Unseal the closet
40 The road taken
16 Randomica
42 The new kid on the 58 The man who knew block
20 Impatient Indian 21 Like silent rain drops Fell 22
44 Elixir’09 Report 49
garIba
26 My voice my road 28 Till the end and then some more
saagar sao gahra [Msaana
50 Reality of an unreal world 51
ek Add p`Sna hO
56 Messing with the human mind 60 My experiments with truth
62 The saint and the tyrant 64 Comic Corner
Message from the President Looking at the mirror, one fine morning, I see that the image is not there. There is no ‘body’ to look at. Later I find that actually the mirror was not there. However, for that very ‘little’ moment, I felt, I had gone back to the days, when I was a child. I had not attained much ‘height’ at that time. I would jump in front of the mirror to see my face. I wanted to see how I looked, whether I have grown a moustache or not....... Well those little things in life.
yaad hO mauJao vaao qaalaI ijasamaoM Kanaa hma Kato qao. jaba vaao GaI AaOr Sa@kr ja,ayaka saaqa maoM laato qao.. vaao CaoTI CaoTI baatoM Aba yaad bahut hmaoM AatI hOM.. maoro mana ko AaMgana maoM ek maIzI TIsa jagaatI hOM.. vaao ek na[- poMisala ka imalanaa mana maoM KuSaI lao Aata qaa. hr na[- pustk pr naama ilaK maOM mauskata qaa.. vaao phlaI baar saa[ikla calaanaa vaao igar kr iksaI kao kuC naa batanaa. vaao CaoTI CaoTI baatoM Aba yaad bahut hmaoM AatI hOM.. hr Saama kao maOdana maMo jaanaa ima+I kI KuSabaU maoM rsakr vaaipsa Gar kao dor sao Aanaa. ifr panaI ko fvvaaro maoM vaao papa ko saMga mastI sao nahanaa.
vaao CaoTI CaoTI baatoM Aba yaad bahut hmaoM AatI hOM.. vaao maa^M kI khanaI rataoM maoM vaao Baa[- sao laD,a[- haqaaoM sao. vaao Kolanaa tptI QaUp maoM vaao h^Msanaa ibanaa KaOf ko. vaao CaoTI CaoTI baatoM Aba yaad bahut hmaoM AatI hOM.. kha^M gae ija,MdgaI ko vaao lamho vaao CaoTI CaoTI baataoM sao irSto. kuC baD,a bananao kI rah jaba sao pkD,I hO hr CaoTI KuSaI sao tba sao ivada hmanao laI hO. Aba iksaI kI mauskana BaI hma sao sahI nahIM jaatI hO. @yaa K,uSaI doMgao iksaI AaOr kao jaba Apnaao kI KuSaI hI hmaoM satatI hOM.. AaAao taoD,oM Ba`ma yao saaro baD,o baD,o sapnaao kao maaro ek CaoTo sao Gar mao hI hmakao ek CaoTa AaMgana BaI banaanaa hO ]na CaoTI CaoTI baataoM kao ifr sao idla maoM hmaoM jagaanaa hO..
So the little secret of life is that life is in such little things. Nobody will ever stop you from going grand but someone inside of you will always yearn for some tiny thing. It is just that you have to find a way to feed the hungry dreams of that ‘someone’. Enjoy every moment by being present in every moment.
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Amen Dr. Maneek Kumar
Avant Garde
Little Things In Life ‘Dude, I seriously don’t know how I will get over this’, of the dispirited and mitigate the despondency. What I said to a friend. ‘Dont worry, you will, by the way you more.. sometimes just listening and not even saying should listen to this song by Radiohead, its amazing’, he anything in return makes the hapless feel a lot better. said taking out an earphone from his ear and offering Is it really so simple? Yes humans are making progress in the fields of science and technology by leaps and bounds, but (another of those) no matter how many iPads we come up with or inch closer to fighting AIDS and Cancer for good, we are never too emotionally equipped to let rationality prevail. As the song from the movie 3 Idiots goes, ‘Dil idiot hai, pyaar se isko samjhale’ so it is.
The Art of LISTENING
it to me. Having always been bound by a moral obligaMoreover it is actually when we are listening that tion of trying my best not to hurt people, I got up and we learn, and whatever we speak is just an outcome of walked out of the room settling for a ‘later’. What does it it. So it is again listening which is important in the first take to patiently listen to a person for 10 minutes who place. As the poem goes: has had a bad day? But no.. what have we got to do if he/she is out of sorts? Yes, we might not say that very A wise owl sat on an oak, explicitly but this is exactly what is going through most there more he saw the less he spoke, of our minds, even though subconsciously. the less he spoke the more he heard, Thinking very practically about it myself, I had a tennis match going on in my mind: what can a person who if at all lends a patient ear to another actually do to attenuate the other’s grief-stricken futility? Nothing substantial or tangible for sure ..but, and there always are buts.. it is here when the emotional angle comes into picture. Come to think of it, when a person is actually sharing one’s broken heartedness, what does one ACTUALLY expect? One doesn’t obviously expect you to go and beat up a rival whom your friend has had a fistfight with, or rush to the person whom your friend secretly has a crush on, and tell her how much he loves her. No not at all.. all one wants is a placebo. And that treatment is simply given by a few consoling words which might make one feel, if not much, but a tad better. It is this very thing which they seek unconsciously. One might deride this connotation calling it false hope. I’d rather call it white lies. A few words of encouragement and hope act like chicken soup to a child shivering with fever. It doesn’t take much to say ‘Dont worry, things will turn out fine’ or ‘may be its one of those testing times, keep the faith’ but these words are sure to lift up the spirits
why aren’t we like that wise old bird? Also there is a common maxim which says that there is no better gift to give to anybody than your time, because it is this only thing which cannot be undone and the memories of which will remain with the person forever.
Art
So the next time you get to be a sad audience to someone’s sagas, be patient, try and cheer the person up, perhaps that is the least and the only thing you can do to him. Try and understand that we all feel the need to express our emotions, both dark and light, and if possible step in the shoes of the person and see what he/ she is going through. Listening is an underrated art.
Let loose the fettered artist in you and see how beautifully he can paint this world. By Abhinav Mathur
5 Avant Garde
One day at school The best thing of being in class XII is that there is no need of going to school as most of the study is done in coaching classes or by oneself. But then why is it that I refuse to miss even a single day of school? I woke up with the first rays of the sun and checked the clock half-asleep and half-awake. “7 o’clock, shit!” I exclaimed as I jumped from the bed. Hurriedly I cleansed my teeth and took out my school uniform from the wardrobe and changed as quickly as possible. All set, I picked up my school bag and most important of all, my comb, which stayed with me 24X7. What? You know even one lock of hair misplaced can create a bad impression on girls. I rushed through the living room where mom was reading the newspaper. Mom: And where do you think you’re going? I: School of course. Mom: I don’t understand (helplessly). Why do you go to school daily when no serious study takes place? You even have your coaching classes in the evening. Why are you exerting yourself? I: I know mom, but today is a very important day. Mom: Each day is important for you. Ignoring her comment I hugged her and ran outside towards the bus stop and caught the bus just in time. Exhausted, I took a deep breath and slumped into one of the seats. “Ah! Mom would never understand” I thought to myself. I entered the classroom and occupied my regular seat, the last row and corner most one. The classes passed one by one as I eagerly waited ,“Only one class to go before recess” I consoled myself. Kukreja Sir entered the classroom with his usual angry expression on the face and carrying a thick physics book in his hands
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and an old tattered bag on his shoulders. “Thud”, he placed the physics book on the table and laid my imagination to rest. “Just one more
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of this ordeal and then I would finally be able
Little Things In Life to see her”, I thought and sought refuge in thoughts of her. I felt myself drifting away from the classroom and to a time when I first saw her. She was walking down the steps with a book tightly held to her chest. The childlike innocence on her face seemed to be demanding love and affection. The sunrays passing through the window and falling on her brown hair, making them shimmer. Her white satin-like skin, ‘ah’, it was a magical moment. “Aaah!”, I cried as pain shot through my back. I looked upwards and saw Kukreja sir standing right in front of me. Kukreja Sir: Are you here or where? (He spoke in offbeat English) I: No sir, I am here only. Kukreja Sir: What is your father? (Puzzled by the sense of the question) I: Sir, what does that mean- “what is my father’s name” or “what does my father do”. Kukreja Sir: You fool; don’t you know the meaning of “what is your father”? (I was appalled, whether to say ‘yes’ or ‘no’. But was rescued by the recess bell) I rushed to the canteen where she usually lunched along with her friends. I entered the canteen and hustled through the crowd, while cautiously looking for her. Yes, there she was, near the table fan, surrounded by her friends. I occupied a seat from where I could see her clearly, without her knowing. Her tresses were swaying due to the fan and she was busy sipping her cola. Her friends were laughing and chatting but she seemed completely engrossed in herself. And her.., “Hey! What! Get aside man”, I said in my mind as someone came and stood before her, blocking my view. After about a minute the person moved aside and proceeded to leave. And there she was - with a rose in her hand and a smile on her face. She got up and left the canteen along with him.
By Anirudh Singhal
Avant Garde
7
The Reform The harsh reality shadowed her mind The clouds of fate stormed her life The glimpses of past flashed before She was back to the time she scrubbed the floors An adopted orphan, she was Being a girl was her plight Life might have been a tragedy But she knew how to catch the roaring tide She had managed to survive all the odds. The constraints and pains could not halt her aim She turned out to be a successful one of her race But the question still arose Had she actually achieved what she wanted? The thunder roared out loud, She was back to the airy yet awry room, The marbled floor and carved doors, The imported chandelier and the silver crockery, The irish vase and the lovely landscape, All haunted her existence.. Was this what she wanted from her life, The compromises had vanquished her desires, The materialistic achievements meant nothing for her, The void in her could not be filled Her desires were frolicsome Her need was fantasy Her life terrificly perfect
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Her picture a substantial one But again the ugly truth was dawned The day brought back d things she pawned on Was it the phone ringing? Or was it the mute tune of being cared for? Was it the invitations coming? or was it the appeal to be doing what she wished for?
Little Things In Life Was going on a tour to paris a work loaded frantic weekend? Or was it that romantic moment to be present in the land of love? Why couldn’t she just understand the wishes she had prayed for Was achieving or the way to achieve more important? was it the gain or loss of her identity?
The raging storm yet another delight Oh yes!! She had become a knight The helpless orphan with the sword of light The lightening flashed the new flame in her She knew her next step was a gateway to be a bird The bells and rings didn’t need to be answered The invitations for fame were to be used as dusters
She needed the change that had got into her The wind whooshed by The rain had stopped and nature shined brighter The ocean roared a sounding sigh The leaves and trees gave a new look to the sky She… stilled by the confusion just stood by The sun had formed a rainbow on the horizon The world.. her world Shackled her existence with a wry The real beauty of nature had shown its miracle The doorbell rang but she was now alive The long awaited reform had finally come astride
She knew she had to live the way it was unlike She knew she had to do what was her inner cry If it was her world she had to fulfill her dreams So that was how she got her real self realized The magical wind had overcome her ambitions to be the best of the tide She could be a normal wave and yet be alive The thunder no longer was a fright
She had turned from royality to reality Maybe late to be real but not not to live life
By Aditi Salwan
9 Avant Garde
Thaparians-Devoted Examinees Who wants to remember the time before exams or the week of exams itself? Everyone yearns for them to end and when they are over, a sense of relief washes over. Nobody wants to recall the extreme agony they endured. Oh well, nothing new in this. But I must admit that I have been blown away by the level of sincerity shown by Thaparians towards their academics. Never before have I seen students who are so devoted and dedicated towards their studies. I believe we all need to applaud their efforts. Time management skills are really in sync with the Thaparians. Just a day before the mid sems were about to start, I was studying outside the library when I say a guy who I believe epitomizes time management. He utilized the 15 minutes out of the four hours I was there, to do some serious studying while his study partner, apparently, went for a telephone break. After she returned, they resumed talking. This is what I call making best use of the gaps of your life. Our fellow classmates are so deeply involved in their studies that they become oblivious to their surroundings. I once saw someone walking back and forth on the road outside the ATM at night, buried in his book. Now, I was finding it difficult to read my ATM receipt on the road, I wonder how he managed to read from his textbook in the dark. The library is a haven for knowledge especially during the onset of exams. I do not know about others but I have gained tremendous knowledge sitting in its silent zone. I remember one particular occasion, a day before my physics exam, when this girl forgot the meaning of ‘silent zone’. Well if that wasn’t enough, I also got enlightened about
Avant Garde
Katherine Heigi’s career highlights till her release ‘27 Dresses’ and also about the ‘must watch horror movies’, where the girl emphasized that ‘Exorcist’ is a movie one cannot miss. So the next time you want to receive knowledge for free, library is the place to be. It serves as an excellent site for constructive group studies and for building high levels of concentration, which is essential during exams. Once I overheard a few friends plan their trip to Kasauli. By the end of their discussion, they had finalized their plan and soon afterwards left. Thus if you want to complete a task which requires undivided attention, you know where to head. Now, we all know how stressful and taxing exams can become. Yoga is a great stress buster. Yet how many of us actually practice it? But, as you know the level of devotion runs high among the students of this college and they take out time from their hectic schedules to do yoga. My roommate told me that during the examinations she saw a girl do yoga on the terrace under the scorching red sun in the afternoon, one hour after lunch time. I was stunned, Bravo!! Hats off to her! Hence I advise you all, if you ever feel overburdened by your studies, start doing yoga in the afternoons when the sun is in its full glory. As the unconsciousness sets in, you shall be relieved of all your grievances. Thaparians are extremely ambitious; they set high goals and strive to achieve them. If they are able to complete only 30% of the mid-semester course, they try their level best to complete at least 50% of the course till end-semester examinations. I salute their never dying spirit. I too detest exams. However in our mad rush to get over them, we tend to overlook those moments which lighten up the atmosphere and make us realize that life would indeed be dull without them. Gear up for the end semesters and all the best!
By Surbhi
The LITTLE Things Fragrance of the soaked ground Sets me free from the welter bound, Drifting of the azure makes me realize That nothing is stationary and I try to mobilize, Mom’s kisses, dad’s hug’s and sister’s love Are symbol of purity just like dove, A sudden childish urge to smell the flowers Whenever I see them kept in the vase, Winking at the moon and the stars at night To reply their gentle winking light, Making faces to see a baby laugh And then priding over that newly discovered art, Looking at the houses through the window panes of the moving train And dreaming of ‘my own’ house in those lanes, Sand and water mischeviously tickling my feet Which revives me even more than an expensive treat, Walking on the dry leaves, rather than the road Hugging a friend tightly, to shed off the burden and load, Silently helping a friend in need Eagerly waiting for the tree from the planted seed, These little things of life have no substitution…
Socialism
Little Things In Life
I Run To Play
The winds warn me to hold the thread firmly, The grace in it soothes my aching mind, Even of the world kept ahead, I get diverted, Moved by an object, so magical in its kind. Sitting alone cursing the dark, This ‘little thing’ illuminates a spark, The fear in me, the anger or any worse entity, Is carried away as I keep gazing its beauty. Time follows with a sudden swing in me, Playful as a child my hands become wings, With a gush of joy my thoughts get purified, And this little thing guides me towards a better present. What was it that took away the concern? Was it the magic of air or a desperate yearn? Neither I know nor do I expect to, Cause times as supportive or of shear loneliness, Of all the good and comparatively bad, I run and run again to reach my cure, Little yet attractive, spherical and effective, I run to play with it.
By Suresh
By Paayal Dhiman
An economics professor at Texas Tech said he had never failed a single student before but had, once, failed an entire class. The class had insisted that socialism worked and that no one would be poor and no one would be rich, a great equalizer. The professor then said ok, we will have an experiment in this class on socialism. All grades would be averaged and everyone would receive the same grade so no one would fail and no one would receive an A. After the first test the grades were averaged and everyone got a B. The students who studied hard were upset and thestudents who studied little were happy. But, as the second test rolled around, the students who studied little had studied even less and the ones who studied hard decided they wanted a free ride too; so they studied little... The second Test average was a D! No one was happy. When the 3rd test rolled around the average was an F. The scores never increased as bickering, blame, name calling all resulted in hard feelings and no one would study for anyone else. All failed to their great surprise and the professor told them that socialism would ultimately fail because the harder to succeed the greater the reward but when a government takes all the reward away; no one will try or succeed.
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“ TO P SY TU RV Y L O V E”
What is the one thing that everybody is after? What is one thing that binds each soul? What is the most powerful force that satiates miserable days with hope?
Ã
That “thing” is called “LOVE”. An ordinary four letter word - doesn’t even occupy a large space while printing but in reality it is something that brims the heart of each one of us in one form or the other. I look around and see everybody in love. I see friends together and observe their love. I remember my parents and feel my love for them. Even after staying so far away from them I can feel it with the same intensity. Sometimes I wonder if this love is even real. How easily have I
temptation of his voice overcomes everything else. Every little message from him, even the ones saying “nothing to display” are safely kept in my inbox. Every night I fall asleep, feeling incomplete if he did not call. But every morning I wake up with the same hope; a hope that arises from simple love and ends in true love. And on days when he does call back, all anger and sadness simply evaporates. And we talk, as if he is just right beside me. There has been never been a
accepted them for who they are? I hardly expect them to do something out of the box; out of the reactions I have gathered by observing them. But such assurance is not always feasible. I wait patiently every day for my brother’s call, to hear his calming voice, to hear him call me “fatty”, which in the past always bothered me, but just the
day when I haven’t imagined my love, they had once expected from parents acting in a certain defined others but were disappointed when manner. Every day I dream of my i t was not reciprocated. But mind mother waking me up and father it, they don’t stop loving. waiting for me on the Loving is a part of us. It’s dining table and I; Loving is a part an evil you may say, but I am there: chata life enriching one. of us. It’s an evil ting happily about It’s the most dyyou may say, but a all the nonsense I can namic part of our life giving one. think of like always. But stagnant souls: the I see myself happy and in most beautiful and love. yet the most hurtful. Sometimes my friends But I have seen that in life and love,
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here forget me. I don’t seem to belong to their world. But the next day I go back to them despite all the hard feelings, and that is love. And I guess everyone feels like that at one point or other. All these feelings lead to the amazing fact of how easily we all can love and how spacious our heart is. I have heard people calling themselves emotionless. I am one of them. But deep within, they are the ones who have loved deeply more than anybody else. And the same
running away never helps. It makes things worse. It makes you worse. Acceptance is the key. You love a person unconditionally- it’s your choice. The other person doesn’t - hey it’s not a product that comes with a star and “conditions applied” written along in the advertisement. The bottom line is that in this life- you’ll find people
Little Things In Life
who’ll love you more than anything and also the ones who’ll put conditions but it is up to you to anticipate the love you hold for them. And remember that you have the ability to love the universe with equality. Love those who love you, and love those you love. For this topsyturvy love has the power to bloom the barren lands. And it will fill your life with a shine. by Aastha
Channa
When Little is BIG There are little things in life. A peck on the cheek from my mother. A gesture of love. Love far too great to be measured. A hug from my friend when I feel miserable, enough to make me feel elated. A smile from a stranger, an act of passing happiness from one to another.
All these are expressions of our emo‑ tions. However, they are impalpable. They cannot be quantified.
And then there is money. Tangible and quantifiable. Most importantly, it can’t be counted in the ‘little things’. Because, money grows. I see an entire race running after money. After all, money can buy things. Huge things. A house to live in. A car to move around. Fame to live by.
The big thing is running the world. It is making people work harder and lose their sleep. But how significant is the big thing? How much satisfaction does it bring? If the big thing becomes bigger, does life get better?’ The little things are often ignored. How many of us would remember the pecks, the hugs and the smiles. Chasing the big thing, people forget their mothers, their friends and the world around them. Then where will they get the little things from? Will the big thing be able to buy the little thing? Can money buy love? Often not. This should certainly make the big thing feel smaller. This leads to only one conclusion. The role of the big thing needs to be downsized. It’s just not big enough. The little thing is far too big to be contained in one’s
The world is divided into little things and big things. heart. It needs to be spread, distributed. The little thing And these divide the world.The big thing divides the needs to become big enough so that it doesn’t slip into world into the poor and the rich. The little thing into oblivion. There is still time for change... those are who are loved and those who are not. By Gaerik Chhabra
You must understand the whole of life, not just one little part of it. That is why you must read, that is why you must look at the skies, that is why you must sing and dance, and write poems, and suffer, and understand, for all that is life.
-J. Krishnamurti, Indian Philosopher
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UnsealTheCloset In a grayish state of mind trying to distract myself, as I try putting my things back to their places in our messed up room. I see a crumbled piece of paper hiding itself in the corner.. Sometimes your own writings come as a surprise to you..
“Whenever I suppressed... It intensified the blast” Bottled my thoughts Tried keeping them under severe knots Conceived that the eyes and ears should do the talking Even GOD stood at the closet of my heart, knocking But I preferred to zip my tongue Better to keep silence in a song , everyone sung Ran from being clicked Ran from being talked about Loved to observe Wished to be different from the crowd Didn’t ever feel that an inch about all I said above is misfigured Wasn’t ever ready for ideals for my LIFE to flicker But the four letter word had mysteries planned Amazed I stood in GOD’S witness stand Wasn’t really easy to twist my bottled seal “Why words to express ,what I feel…??” May be merry and zeal Also suppressing the worst I feel
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Bottled my thoughts Tried keeping them under severe knots By now…to the cork, the bottled thoughts had touched Making the cork un-clutched I made this moment to pause Each moment… an encounter with my flaws. What I saw was erratic The seal had weakend, the notch did break Oh Jesus, I felt my life at stake Bottled was my mind What was pushing to ooze out, was my peace I saw it begging at knees No longer could the moment be paused And as you read this…a moment more has crossed And hence it blew off Though the blast resounded But From within…noises went off If only I could, in that bottle, had made a pin hole.. If I could have sneaked a little into my very own soul If the needle of the clock could be reversed… The bottled thoughts would have skipped the sudden outburst… If I would have disclosed, a part of what I genuinely feel May be the little untouched wounds, would have healed
Little Things In Life Bottled were the thoughts Severe were the knots But who suffered…?? There in HIS COURT...god whispered to me May be a felt smile, full of zeal Why subdue the thoughts , “reveal…” Though rarely, but do Loosen the seal Pour out an expression of what u feel Because Through those mere syllables the world reads you For some, it means a silent blink but also define this silence for few
Cause it Brings u closer to the ones already dear Sometimes an expression missed …and what remains is a speechless tear A speechless tear
By Shalini Chhabra
Life does not give you second chances. either you pick it up or life picks at you… ( Dedicated to my three introvert friends)
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By Rahul Agarwal
A
s I start writing this article, I have no idea how it will finish. Because my mind right now is immersed well into a plethora of ideas regarding the little things which are morelike oysters of happiness in the sea that is my life. But when it comes to writ-
of the day using a major part of our brains we go about carrying activities meticulously with great planning , some essential , some leisurely and some outright useless. We give them so much importance and what do these activities give us in return of our unconditional devotion and
ing them down in one linear fashion constrained by the word limit and confines of this page, I find it ultra cumbersome and futile. As if there are millions of fireflies in the sky and one has to collect them and make a laser beam out of it! The attempt to write this article has made me apprehend this astronomical revelation. The revelation that in the major part
highly precious time. Nothing at all. The reason being no matter how enjoyable it may be, but since our brain has been working overtime to actually make it happen, whatever happiness that should be derived from it is finally considered as mere compensation. So the joy we feel is nothing but a programmed reaction simulated by our mechanic brain which eases our nerve points and flexes the 32 muscles to make us smile. How superficial?
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Avant Garde
Now bite on this. One gets all soft hearted on witnessing the cruelty Cinderella suffers at the hands of her step-mother. But one does not bat an eyelid when it comes to the step-motherly attitude we have to some completely innocuous things all around us, activities we are completely oblivious to. We tend to be totally ignorant to them when they are actually the nano-cells that fuel the existence of our id. Like invisible house-elves dishing out sumptuous food for the occupants of Hogwarts. The reason being they don’t affect our brain, our commander, instead they touch our souls and hence the commander does nothing to respect their importance. But the soul lives for them and longs for more. It’s like you go for a blockbuster movie, yes the one for which you have been sweating your palms and standing in long queues to get a
Little Things In Life ticket. And finally you get one and you go inside. What you feel now is totally governed by the commander in chief. But what if the movie folks decide to give you large complimentary popcorn. Well the brain doesn’t know how to react now and so comes the elusive feeling of euphoria you would have during the entire duration of the movie, just because of that little thing. Little things in life may derive out of uncertainty, simplicity,indulgence or even love. But whatever may be the origin they indeed have a lasting capacity to rejuvenate.It’s because the brain functions out of chemical reactions and the soul out of raw human emotions. So what little thing makes an impact may widely depend on the situation, the mood and maybe the weather too. It’s like the serene voice of Lennon or the magical riffs of Hammet or the exquisite brush strokes of Picasso. A ‘thank you’ card a son leaves for his mother or that one scoop of ice cream for the one who is on diet. That ounce of extra ration for the malnourished or just an untimely hug.
There is no category, no line, no criteria and no prejudiced combination. And this is what makes them beatific and enable one to stop for a moment and think. To breathe in the moment and relish the after taste. To realize the aura and to quantify the orgasmic nodes that connect life. As I finish this article, I still have no idea how to end it. But then divine intervention and Alas! What better than a verse from Solitary Reaper by the romanticist Wordsworth where the poet is all but mesmerized by the enigmatic song on the hill. Beautiful.
No Nightingale did ever chaunt More welcome notes to weary bands Of travellers in some shady haunt, Among Arabian sands: A voice so thrilling ne’er was heard In spring-time from the Cuckoo-bird, Breaking the silence of the seas Among the farthest Hebrides
Its A Spiral World
We all have gone through the the ‘structure of DNA’ in our biology books , and admired its spiral features. Coming out of the books, here is a an explana‑ tion of ; or rather the practical significance of this spirality in our daily life. It goes with our re‑lations. In a relationship , there are times you celebrate , and times when fights are given priority and every other kind of emotion( which basically is energy of motions) appears. What we can understand is that eve‑ ry relationship faces the same ‘spiral law’. Sometimes the views are similar ,ie the two strands are meeting each other. The very next moment they start getting away from each other only to meet again after some time. At times we disagree with a person and there are agreements too , this is what makes a re‑ lation long lasting by strengthening our E-bonds. People who face problems are those who fail to understand this natural phenomenon. Just being aware of this ; a lot of things become easier and a relationship flourishes and thus we are able to maintain that happy state of life. By Nitish
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Avant Garde
A Bottle OF Wine By Abhinav Mathur
the town knew that the time had come for the botsecond semi-deserted weekend of last semester, tle to be finally opened, but alas they were wrong. I thought of paying a visit to the college library. The feast was sumptuous alright, and every other arThe library seemed even more deserted than the rangement was up to the mark. The bottle however hostel or the campus. Scanning the different shelves never moved. I made my way to the last section -“Arts & Literature”. One day the king paid a visit to the town and the I felt we were doing injustice to the books like the residents insisted the bottle be opened but the man autobiography of Nehru, Hinduism by Vivekananda refused and didn’t even bother to meet the king. etc by just reading Semi Conductors and Theory of When the man’s son decided to get married, the couMachine, and turning into one ourselves. Anyway my ple threw a lavish party with the town’s best chefs eyes caught and luckily enough I suppose, a copy of engaged to prepare the meal. The newly wedded a collection of short stories. I got the book issued and were to shift to the city thence and were expecting the bottle as their housewarming gift, but had to setcame back with a sense of satisfaction. tle for something else. After reading a few stories, I concluded that Then came a day when the news of the most of them had open endings and a hidden death of the couple in a road accident message behind them though I might not have spread in the town. The residents assembled outside the house where bidding of Not being able to decide what to do on one of the
been able to decipher each and every one of it.
In one of the stories there was a man who lived in a small town. The man had a reputation of being very rude and testy and was not in the good books of some of the people of the town. The man was said to possess a bottle of wine since long, however he had not opened it till date. Some of his relatives and school friends who seldom paid visit to his place used to return disappointed seeing the bottle of wine kept intact inside the shelf. One day it was the couple’s 25th anniversary and he had a small gathering at his Avant Garde place. People of
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the various household items was taking place. Everything was sold off except the bottle of wine, which the residents decided to share equally amongst themselves. Everyone had their share of the wine and made their way back home. The story ended, in what seemed to me, in an abstract manner. ‘What message might this simple story be conveying?’, I thought. Then the concept of wine rang bells in my mind: the man wanted to keep the wine intact as long as he lived so that who ever drank it after him would enjoy it the most. Had he served it at his son’s wedding or at any other event, the wine would have never tasted as good as it did now. The
Little Things In Life same man who was considered self centered by the others, was thinking about them all the time as he knew that it was they who were going to take the bottle after he had gone. There are people who never vaunt about their goodness or their concern for other hands, while we never notice it and on the contrary go about cursing them without even knowing what they are actually up to. We have got so used to seeing the world through the lens of distrust and negativity, that the goodness that still prevails around us doesn’t affect us anymore. We need to take the lens off our eyes and see the world with our naturally blessed ones. WE DON’T JUST
NEED TO LOOK AROUND, WE REALLY NEED TO SEE. I tried doing the same and have luckily got in touch with such beautiful people, who were there earlier as well, but whose presence I was not aware of till I really started seeing. There is a common saying ’When the student is ready, the teacher will appear’. We just need to make up our minds and take a step in the right direction, the path for further treading will automatically appear with His divine grace.
Generosity
W
hat do we usually do when we see a fat person in front of us ? A normal thought is Man! He must be eating a lot! Actually an out of the shape belly signifies generosity. It sounds a little complicated; so let’s go a little further. A generous person means the one who is kind towards others, one who gives freely more than that is necessary or expected. A large tummy is a visual display of this generosity. Generosity flourishes compassion, love and care. Love grows in the presence of generosity. Ever seen SANTA CLAUSE? He too has a big tummy. We all love to get gifts from him and sing jingles on Christmas (that’s out of love ). This goes even with the ‘laughing buddha’. He too signifies happiness accompanied with love; that’s generosity. Nature also adapts to this concept. The best way to understand this is that for 9 months a baby remains inside mother’s womb; we
are taken care and being loved by her out of generosity. All I want to communicate is that our very nature is to be generous. Time and again there are incidents which blossoms generosity and some diminish it. Truth is that some has to get into it; some just show off. So next time you see a fatty ; take it as an opportunity to remind yourself of your true nature and see the shift inside you that very moment….
By Nishant Lakhanpal
Avant Garde
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The Impatient Indian I t is clever and complex, yet it makes one laugh and finally moves one to tears. A masterpiece, utterly exceptional – the impatience of an Indian. If there’s a buzz in my head this summer, it is nothing next to the bloody pace that has set the streets on fire. I accept defeat as a writer because I fail to recreate the aura of death when it flirts with you, a missed heartbeat, the cuts and bruises in a land where millions trample the roads everyday. No longer do I pick up a fight with my sister for a larger chunk of chocolate or plead with my mother not to make me entertain a guest’s kid. I go out of the way to help my father find stationary in the house and hug my grandma when she laughs without her upper teeth. I might die this year. It could be anyone of my family and friends, and I dread the moment when one of us could count the others on fingers alone.
But somehow, I think it’s me – The Chosen One. On any of the dusty days to come, a speeding vehicle with a dangerous grumble; carrying a rider as ambitious and significant for this world as anyone of us will strike me with such anger that I will end at the spot. Lying broken on the hot road with sparkless eyes and dark blood spilling out of my skull like a secret, I will be mildly surprised at the truth of my prediction. Dead for a reason that only the dead can see. Beneath the red light, vehicles will continue to trample me till no one recognizes me. Why? Because it is the curse of an Indian to be unable to live or die in peace. Why? Because another impatient Indian will trample me underfoot, no, under a metal with tyres, to make sure I am flattened and embedded in history forever. As India races to the top of the global ladder , for once the nation needs
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Avant Garde
By Anuraag Verma
its people not to fly off the handle, but to sprinkle calm and intelligence. There’s a haunting music about our roads that brings death to those who hear it. You too have snatched snippets of it, and you are the one who’s played these notes too.
(Rushrushkillriptear) “I am coming behind you. Honk! Honk! I want to overtake you. Honk! Honk! I am driving on this road. Honk! Honk!” I have never seen a pedestrian in India. I have been searching for him since I was born. You think that person who you saw scuttling and dodging cars (whose drivers can burn a hole through your heart you with one look) is a pedestrian? And what exactly is the person who happens to land himself so close to you while walking in the middle of nowhere that you could almost have driven through him? The Walker has to be literally a good runner or a long jumper to cross the road and dodge the perky traffic. The Cyclist! Isn’t he a poor outcast?It’s time that the Indian grows wings because the meek shall not inherit the earth. The infection slowly spreads beneath our feet. Each time the path gets narrower than the wide roads we spit on and urinate besides, a swarm of vehicles, scraping each other will blast to get to the Other Side (that unseen land of mysteries) that gives way to Another Way. It is with malice that we climb the crest of a speed breaker and crash with pride. Speed™ and Elevation™ - drugs that give us a high from which we cannot return. The Road can show secrets. Of the travesty of a yellow light that is meant to slow down. Of the sheer number of people we have given birth to. Of the romantic-seeming black smoke that leaves you coughing. And none of them has been much of a pleasure to know.
Like Silent Raindrops Fell
itting on my desk against the light of the moon that comes through the window, my thought process percolates to those marvelous little moments, which are a sine qua non for the better part of one’s personality. Be it the faintest recollection of playing cricket in those same old narrow streets outside my house or be it studying the entire night only to escape the exam the following morning. These sorts of feelings are not at all alien to anyone. Amidst the lull, so many things happen that hardly do we wait to ponder upon their discrete subtleties, that in itself have the power to maneuver the things so swiftly yet so inconspicuously. I call them the silent raindrops that fall on a quite winter day. Many a times we ignore them and set our foot to our usual routine, allowing ourselves to feel their presence in the slight wetness. And when along with the chilly wind, the weather looks ominous; we decide to stay under the shelter, watching the same drops drawing a question mark on the glass of the window. “Harsha Bhogle once asked Sachin Tendulkar about his presence of mind, when he is at crease, watching a fierce fast bowler running towards him from a 50m run-up. He replied that 8/10 times the mind is already made, whether to hit for a single or for a boundary. But on a very few occasions, the mind is blank. Those are the times I bat my best. Because those are the times the mind is sub-consciously confident and focused with no fear. “ Every little step that we take, every single word that comes out of our mouth frowns upon snap decisions and impetuous behavior, and it cannot be gainsaid that those tiny adhering to situations bring out the best in every one of us. It takes a long time and most of the world to learn what we know about love and fate and the choices we make, but the heart of it comes in an instant when we are struggling with our backs against the wall. When instead of meditating upon the nature of good and bad, instead of schmoozing through every single if or but, we plunge into that rain. You can be watchful and carry an umbrella, yet you can still listen to the sounds of placid raindrops. There
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Little Things In Life
By Zubin Arora
purpose is not to wet you but to make you feel their fragile tranquility. Unluckily we are not in the moment; we are never in the moment. We are always ahead of ourselves planning for our demise. ‘Cause if we were or if we are, we would allow that raindrops to fall on our head and refresh our mood. And In that refreshed mood, we would be dancing all our way through. Because life is not about one big leap or one big shot, it’s about living every single second as it comes and listening to every single raindrop that falls, so silently yet so conspicuously. If we look at all the great men (and ofcourse women as well!) from the past, the answer is as clearly visible as river bed through pristine water. They had a great understanding of the minute details that held up the big picture on the canvas. They knew those values and they utilized it to good use. Be it Lincoln, Hitler, Socrates, Gandhi or Steven Spielberg.
21 Avant Garde
garIba saaonaU ko bacapna sao baD,o Armaana qao. magar Armaana tao kuC KuSanasaIbaaoM kI iksmat mao hI ilaKo haoto hOM. ifr BaI, saaonaU kao jaIvana sao kao[- iSak,vaa nahI qaa. vah jaanata qaa kI duinayaa [tnaI baD,I nahIM kI sabakao eSaao Aarama kI ija,MdgaI imalao. magar vah yah BaI jaanata qaa kI duinayaa [tnaI CaoTI nahI kI ]saka gauja,r basar BaI naa hao sako. ij,aMdgaI ko saaqa samaJaaOta krnaa ]sanao isaK ilayaa qaa. [saI samaJaaOto ko tht Aba vah ir@Saa calaata qaa.samaJaaOta saIQaa saada qaa. vah maohnat krko ir@Saa calaata qaa AaOr badlao mao ija,MdgaI ]sakao [tnaI [naayat do dotI qaI, kI vah gaa^Mva mao basao Apnao pirvaar tqaa Kud ka BarNa paoYaNa kr sako. magar gauja,aro ko Alaavaa BaI ]sakI ija,MdgaI mao kuC kama qao. samaJaaOto mao kuC kiznaa[yaa^M qaI ijanaka ]llaoK ivastRt $p sao nahIM qaa.bahna kI SaadI ka Kcaa-, ipta ko kja,- ka byaaja caukanaa, CaoTo Baa[- kI pZ,a[- ka Kca- Aaid ka kao[naamaaoinaSaana naa qaa.yah saba pUro krnao BaI ja,$rI qao.[sailae ]sanao ek AaOr samaJaaOta kr rKa qaa.AaOr vah qaa ek va@t ka Kanaa.samaJaaOta mauiSkla qaa, prMtu [sako Alaavaa AaOr kao[- caara BaI tao nahI. sadI- pasa Aa rhI qaI.AaOr ]sako daonaao kMbala lagaBaga fT cauko qao.kmaro kI Ct BaI baairSa ko baad sao marmmat maa^Mga rhI qaI.kiznaa[yaaoM ik fohirst mah^Mgaa[- kI dr ko samaana baZ, rhI qaI.nahI baZ, rhI qaI tao basa AamadnaI.[sa baar Saayad fsala zIk hao jaae tao ]mmaId qaI kI gaa^Mva mao dukana Kaolanao laayak pOsao [k{o hao jaae^M.kiznaa[yaaoM kI toja, QaUp mao [na hlkI ]mmaIdaoM kI Ca^Mva BaI baD,a saukUna p`dana krtI hOM. eosao hI ek idna saaonaU Asala ija,MdgaI kI QaUp sao Cupkr ek poD, ko inacao Apnao ir@Sao pr Alasaa rha qaa.]sao sapnao nahI Aato.[sailae vah sapnao bauna rha qaa.Aama AadmaI jaIvana ko kuC ivalaxaNa sauK [nhIM kilpt xaNaaoM maoM ibatata hO.saustato Alasaato ]sakI naja,r ja,maIna pr pD,I.ja,maIna pr ]sao ek rMgaIna kagaja, naja,r Aayaa.kafI dor tk saaonaU ekTk inaharta rha.Acaanak ]sakI tMd`a BaMga hu[- AaOr JaT sao ]sanao kagaja, ]zayaa.mausa mausaayaa huAa saa vaao kagaja, 500 $pe ka naaoT qaa.saaonaU ko idla mao AjaIba saI hlacala hu[-.AaiKrI baar 500 $pe ko naaoT kao tba haqa lagaayaa qaa jaba caar mahInao phlao vah Gar gayaa qaa.tba ]sanao 500 $pe ko gyaarh AaOr 100 $pe ko baIsa naaoT Apnao payajaamao ko AMd$naI jaoba mao sahoja ko rKo qao.rat Bar ]sakao yah Dr satata rha kI kao[- pOsao caura naa lao.AaScaya- qaa ik ABaI ] sao kao[- Dr nahIM qaa. Saayad maohnat kI kmaa[- AaOr mauF,t ko maala mao yahI AMtr hO. calaao jaao BaI hao, hala iflahala tao saaonaU kSmakSa mao qaa kI ]na $pyaao ka kro @yaa. ]sanao Apnao Aasapasa doKa, dUr tk kao[- vyai> eosaa nahIM qaa jaao kao[- Kao[- caIja, tlaaSa rha hao.Agalao dao GaMTo tk saaonaU ]saI jagah satk- hao baOza rha.[sa [Mtja,ar mao kI Saayad [na $pyaao ka maailak Taoh laonao Aayao.magar Syaama haoto haoto vah qak gayaa.raoja, kI trh vah ApnaI inayat jagah pr caaya pInao gayaa.caaya kI dukana ek rolavao k`aisaMga pr qaI. k`aisaMga @yaa qaI, laaogaao nao Kud hI dIvaar taoD, AaOr laaoho kI CD,o maaoD, kr Aanao jaanao ka rasta banaa ilayaa qaa.[sa rasto sao laaogaao ka kafI samaya bacata qaa, nahI tao basa AD\Do jaanao ko ilayao GaUma kr DoZ, ikmaI AaOr calanaa pD,ta qaa. halaa^Mik rolavao kI saMpi<a ka nauksaana tao qaa, prMtu ifr BaI nagar inagama nao yah khto hue mau^Mh maaoD, ilayaa ik yah janata ko iht mao hOM.]nako pasa AcCa bahanaa qaa Apnao kt-vyaaoM sao bacanao ka.[saI trh sao ]nhaonao Anaok tk- Z,uMZ, ilae qao kama sao pllaa JaaD,nao ko ilae.[nhIM saba trIkaoM sao vah ApnaI kiznaa[yaa^M dUr krto qao. KOr kiznaa[yaa^M tao saaonaU kI BaI kafI qaI.]na pOsaaoM sao vah Anaok kama inabaTa sakta qaa.AaOr kuC nahIM tao paosT ivaBaaga mao hI jamaa kra sakta.BaivaYya mao kuC jamaa puMjaI bana jaae. 22
Avant Garde
Little Things In Life
Mmagar kuC manauYya Alaga hI ima+I ko banao haoto hOM.]na pOsaao kao Apnao iht mao [stomaala krnao ko bajaae saaonaU ka pUra Qyaana [saI baat pr qaa ik [na pOsaao ka vah kro @yaa. ]nhoM Apnao pr Kca- tao krnao sao rha, tao ifr. ]sako mana mao rh rh kr yahI ivacaar cala rha qaa ik [-Svar nao BaI ]sao AjaIba ]laJana mao Dala idyaa. caaya kI cauiskyaa^M laoto hue ]sakI naja,r rolavao laa[-na kI trf, pD,I.laaogaao ka hujaUma lagaatar Aa jaa rha qaa.magar tMga rasta tqaa Anya ivaGna haonao ko karNa saba proSaana sao qao.iksaI ka saamaana roilaMga mao f^Msa rha qaa, tao kao[- ApnaI saa[-ikla laaogaao ko baIca Gausaa rha qaa.iksaI ka pOr p%qar sao zaokr Ka rha qaa, tao kao[- laaoho kI tar sao ATk rha qaa.yah tar saaonaU kao hmaoSaa Acarja mao Dalata qaa.[saka ]pyaaoga ]sao kBaI samaJa nahI Aayaa.rolavao laa[na ko saaqa calato hue yah ja,maIna sao krIba tIna [Mca ]pr hvaa mao ba^Mqaa huAa qaa.laaoga jaldbaaja,I mao [sa tar kao naja,rAMdaja, kr doto qao tqaa k[- laaoga [sasao zaokr Kakr igar jaato qao. prMtu [sa tar sao BaI jyaada Acarja BarI baat qaI ek baUZ,I Ammaa maoM.yah baUZ,I Ammaa hmaoSaa ]sa tar vaalao rasto ko pasa baOzI imalatI qaI.Kud tao A^MQaI qaI prMtu vaha^M baOz baOzo ja,aor sao Aavaaja, lagaatI qaIo,“tar sao bacakr, tar sao sa^MBala kr”.AaOr jaba kBaI kao[- tar sao ]laJa kr igar jaata tao baD,o Pyaar sao samaJaatI, “kao[- naa baccao, zaokr Ka kr hI AadmaI zakur banata hO.” saaqa hI ek BaaolaI saI mauskana BaI do dotI qaI.]sanao kBaI iksaI sao BaIK, nahI maa^MgaI.magar k[- laaoga ]sakI sa(dyata sao KuSa hao kuC $pyao do jaayaa krto qao.prMtu AmmaajaI nao Kud kBaI iksaI sao kuC nahI maa^Mgaa.vah isaf- inayat jagah pr baOz laaogaao kao Aagaah krtI rhtI qaI. raoja kI trh caaya pIto hue saaonaU ka Qyaana baUZ,I Ammaa pr iTka rha.Acaanak ]sako mana mao ivacaar Aayaa, @ya^MU naa baUZ,I Ammaa kao yah pOsao do idyaa jaae. Acaanak saaonaU ko SarIr mao }jaa- ka saMcaar huAa tqaa saa^Msa tojaI sao calanao lagaI.[sasao baohtr tao kuC hao hI nahI sakta. ]sanao naja,r daOD,ayaI tao doKa kuC kcara [k+a krnao vaalao baccao Kola rho qao.]sanao ek baccao kao baulaayaa AaOr baaolaa, “jaa, baUZ,I Ammaa kao yah do Aa.” baccao nao naaoT pkD,a AaOr fT sao daOD, pD,a.baIca Kola sao baulaanao kI vajah sao vah qaaoD,a jaldI mao qaa.rasto mao ]sakI naja,r naaoT pr pD,I.ekaek vah $ka AaOr fTI Aa^MKaoM sao saaonaU kao doKnao lagaa.saaonaU nao KD,o KD,o [Saara ikyaa ik jaldI kr.laD,ko nao QaIro sao kdma baZ,ae AaOr jaOsao hI AmmaajaI ko pasa phu^Mcaa, baohd ]%saukta sao saba batanao lagaa.phlao AmmaajaI BaI caaOMk ]zI.qaaoD,I dor sa^MBalanao ko baad baaolaI, “kaOna qaa vah firSta.” laD,ko nao mauD, ko doKa tao saaonaU jaa cauka qaa. jaOsao hI laD,ko nao pOsao Ammaa kao ide, saaonaU vaha^M sao inakla pD,a.idna ka kafI samaya ]sanao ]na $pyaao ko ca@kr mao barbaad kr ide qao.AaOr Aba baarI qaI ]sa baIto va@t mao hue nauksaana kI Barpa[- krnao kI.]sa idna saaonaU nao raoja sao dao GaMTo jyaada ir@Saa calaayaa AaOr pOsao bacaanao ko ilae raoTI kao namak imaca- vaalao panaI mao Dubaaokr Ka gayaa.tIna mahInao mao bahna kI SaadI qaI.Aaja kma Kaegaa tba jaakr baaraityaaoM ka svaagat kr paegaa. rat kao haqa mauh^M Qaao AaOr baalaao mao kMGaI kr saaonaU jaba ibastr pr laoTa tao ]sao baD,a saukUna imalaa.vaao pOsao baUZ,I Ammaa kao dokr ]sao baD,a AanaMd imalaa qaa.]na pOsaao sao vaao @yaa @yaa kr saktI qaI, yah saaoca ]sao baD,I tsallaI imalaI.jaba ] sanao Aa^MKoM baMd krI tba ]saka (dya SaMat qaa evaM caohro pr hlkI mauskana qaI. garIba kI madd krko kaOna KuSa nahIM haota, ja,ra saaoicae tao.
rjat kumaar Avant Garde
beep.. beep ..!! A Message
Its from my friend who lives in the next room enquiring the syllabus for the upcoming quiz!!!! Lethargically I start to text her back and somewhere amidst that the reminiscene of a conversation I once shared with a teacher of mine pops into my head. He said, “ Both the development of technological tools and the uses to which man has put them have created a modern civilisation in which loneliness is ever increasing.” I vehementally disapproved of the statement ,it seemed preposterous to revile technology. I argued saying mobile phones, PCs, laptops, internet are only a few to mention which has turned the world into a global village. Watching live matches millions of miles away, or the launch of a spacecraft seems implausible whilst technology. My teacher gave me a crpytic smile and encouraged me to continue. So I bragged on about the glory of technology (being a technology fanatic!!) How it has helped us to communicate and be in touch with the people in our lives. How surreptitiously it has crescendoed into our lives and become a part of us. Gesturing me to stop, my teacher asked, “when was the last time you had a conversation with a stranger on your way home in a bus?’’ I opened my mouth to answer but stopped in midair. I didn’t remember! I didn’t even remember when I last talked to a stranger in the bus, leave aside the question of striking a conversation! All I recall is I board the bus everytime and after getting comfortable on my seat I take out my i-pod and thrust the ear-phones into
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Avant Garde
Reclusively Yours By Kangkana Bhardwaj
the cavities of my ears. The music blaring out of the ear-phones occludes any further intervention: The “ DO NOT DISTURB” sign. I shifted on my seat ,perturbed. My visage must have given away my thoughts because the next question almost made me fall out of my chair. He asked, “Do you talk to your parents regularly?” To this I pompously answer a yes. And this is not the question which made me fall out of the chair!!! What followed next did. He asked,” when was the last time you actually had a hearty conversation with your parents?” Concealing my utter surprise, I replied with unwavering confidence, “Yesterday”. Although I don’t know if how was your day, what did you have for dinner and do you need money actually count for a hearty conversation!! My teacher brooded into my eyes through his half-moon spectacles and arched his eyebrows but didn’t comment anymore. Glad to be refrained from his interrogation I breathed a sigh of relief and hurried back. Knock...Knock....and I crash back to reality!! Its my friend from the next room. I realise it’s been more than half an hour since she messaged me. Passing her a tentative smile, hoping she wasn’t furious I gesture her to sit on my bed and mark her the syllabus. Watching her walk out of the room, I realise that it would have taken her less time to come to my room and get the syllabus marked than to type the message for the same and wait for me to reply. I stop her and ask why she didn’t come to my room in the first place instead of messaging me. She candidly replies,” what are mobile phones for!!!” Nodding as if in a trance I stare into the empty space for a long time.Taking off to my personal contempland( a land to contemplate) I reiterate her words in my mind until it all started making sense. The conversation...the accusation...and the questions. Blaming technology for the reclusiveness we were creating for ourselves didn’t seem preposterous anymore...the truth finally sank in. The era of reclusiveness is indeed inevitable.
Desi Beats Ka FILMI Tadka “Kajrare kajrare, tere kare kare naina”
music that was a colourful fusion of classical music and western orchestration. Music was commuted to a The party anthem of 2005, swayed form which everybody could relish. the entire nation to its beats. But do Naturally, the common man could you know that dhinchak song is feel the rhythm when his hero Ambased on the mesmerising raga – itabh Bachchan crooned “dekha ek Yaman ! khab to ye silsile hue” (based on Surprised?? Don’t be. Bollywood the raga Bhupali) or the pain when has always been instrumental in Meena Kumari lamented “Inhi logconnecting the ordinary music one le liya dupatta mera”(based on lover with our rich heritage of clasraga Kalyani). sical music. It is believed that the tunes of The origin of classical music has most of the Indian songs fall withbeen traced to the Vedas. It is said that God himself is a musical sound, the sound that the whole universe. After the vedic period, the tradition was preserved by kings and rulers who patronised musicians and encouraged newer, better gayaki styles. Post-independence, emerged in the ambit of the ragas. This is the most popular form that altered because it is believed that the anthe Indian music scenario comcient creators of our musical system pletely- apna filmi music. Cinema used all possible permutations and transformed music from being the combinations of the twelve basic property of a selected few to every notes. man’s melody. The popular perComposers today are venturing ception of classical music as being into newer genres making the most “too cerebral” or “too heavy” began of Indian classical and folk music changing. with a flavour of modernity creatApart from musicians like Ustad ing melodies that are a rage with Amjad Ali Khan, Pt. Hari Prasad everyone and anyone who hears Chaurasia, Pt. Ravi Shankar who them(youth and senior citizens??) took classical music to foreign Yet this is not always true. Cinema realms and enriched the world of is sometimes blamed for butchermusic, other composers produced ing the soul of music with meaning-
less compositions that are added to spice up movies. It is accused of competing with the classical music for popularity and taking the youth away from their culture. It needs to be realized that Indian films are immensely popular both within the country and outside today as the world has shrunk into one big village and have carried the melodies to new places. External influences in music cannot be overlooked , these in fact give a different flavour. Classical music has a great deal to offer because of its rare depth, dignity, and above all a beauty of mood and expression. It is a reflection of the soul. We always think of classical music as being something “way out of our league” but composers like A.R. Rahman, S.D. Burman,Naushad have composed master pieces by using these very elements and have helped revive interest in this great Indian Art form. The tradition is still there having survived many metamorphosis, still retaining its soul, truly being a divine creation. After all,
is nothing in theThere world so much
like prayer as music is.
By Viveka Sra
Avant Garde
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It’s a world of opinions out there. Be it our parents, friends, far off relatives or even ourselves - we cannot resist the temptation of making everyone privy to our thoughts and ideas. We all consider ourselves to be veritable experts on almost any topic we have even distantly heard of. What is it that makes us so? Are it the readily available tit bits of information that fuel this desire or is it the innate yearning in each one of us to shine and subtly shout out to the world – Notice Me. But do we ever realize that as words have the power to influence, one of our multitude of opinions may actually and accidentally strike a chord with somebody. It can happen with anyone. Let me rephrase – It does happen with everyone and it isn’t always for the better. A large part of what we are and how we think is a natural sum of almost every person we have ever met and talked with in our lives. All of them may not be big contributors to our personality, but they all in some way or the other, in amounts whether trivial or vast do shape and influence our character. And as we go on with our lives, we start implementing these influences – first unwittingly and later involuntarily. But
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by then the boat sails far and unlike Robert Frost, no two roads diverge in front of us. It is just a single strip of land which others have made our destiny. The above I believe is a very natural process. The ones who impart are no more to be blamed than the ones who implement. Such transactions always take place sub consciously and get imbibed into our system. We only realize them years down the line, doing exactly what we knew we would be. We just didn’t know why. Like I said - first unwittingly and later involuntarily. As individuals what we lack is precisely that – individualism. We remain gullible to the society we live in and never really pressure our mind to think for itself. It definitely isn’t an impossible task. And when the day comes when we’ll find ourselves listening to our inner voice more than those from the outside, the day when we let others only be temporary guides and not our masters; then again that day unlike Robert Frost, no two roads would diverge in front of us. This time, we would be running across that single strip of land we desire to be our destiny.
T
Little Things In Life
here’s a broken down soul in a broken down world. The soul is just like the falling leaves from an old oak tree that no one seems to notice as they pass by on their stroll to and from work. The times have changed in all that they are. People are too busy to take in all the small luxuries the world has to offer. The smile the old man sitting on the park bench gives as you pass by. The kids playing on the playground at the park with smiles from ear to ear as they have no cares in the world. The gentle breeze that holds your hand in the softest way, but you can’t feel it because of the modern technology that resides there. It all became his world; a world of forgotten treasures because of the business of life. In those moments that he lie still in bed at night, with no other sound than her breath, that’s when the world made sense. Being so far from her, it was the only time away from the world he could think of her. All you ever needed was silence to show you the beauty that the world has to offer .The simple pleasures that become the unforgettable moments in a man’s life are often the things that are taken too soon. He’s left with an unsteady goodbye on a fragile heart. Her breath in form of a song is all that he has left imprinted on a memory that will never fade. A tear stained pillow substitutes what once was the greatest height of the day. His sorrow comes in all forms, but pours out in words that no one will ever read. Filling a journal of all the things that should’ve been said and done seem to be the only way to communicate with someone lost along the twists
and turns of the world. A notebook that may someday tell his story to a world that would never understand all of the thoughts and feelings that poured from his unsteady
hand by a dim light. His head turns as he watches the light flickering in the window. The dog howls outside his window, almost as if he can feel the lonesome heart of his best friend. The time the world is sleeping he is arising & waking up in a world where he is with her.But
A Fogged Mind just then the wind blows and the leaves begin to turn and fall from their branches that have been their home for the few short months since budding. Sometimes what’s broken can never be healed. What deserves a touch can never be felt. Hearts that need to be mended will never know the truth of what the feeling of being complete once was. Love is never enough for the people who all crave the best, but for those who know the true emotions of one great love or even one failed love never forget the prints left on their heart. Often in life, the best things are the things that are stuck in an old box that rests in a corner of a closet. Those memories are pulled out at some distant time in the future only to be relived for a short time. Real love never dies; it just falls from its branch that used to be its home. It’ll stare up in wonderment of all the things it could’ve done differently to still be connected to the tree from which it fell..
By Inder Pratap Singh
Avant Garde
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Till the end ....and then some more
To Mr. Smith.. Never did I know that a fleeting glance off the 4 walls to the window, could make it happen. It all started when that glance turned into an enchanting view. For you and for me. And since then… P.S . I Love You … “Went up the hill, The scene was still” Clouds looked no less than an art piece As I uttered a word, it echoed back to tease With u, I stood marooned at the peak Creeping in, was a nostalgic streak Wind swiftly glided my hair to rest at my neck First time, I could hear the air, as if on the ships deck As I turned back to bring you to the scene Although I had seen you for long…but that moment you looked so pristine.. I tried putting the scattered strands of hair behind my ear Though passion did grip me…but too did a little fear
Reaching close…you smiled and looked up to sigh… I knew what made you smile…but I still ask “why ?” We sit at the edge together…to witness His creation Watching together, made a mere view on the way our life’s destination Shared the innocence of a child Love of a teen Promise of a responsible mate Promise to be with each other also in dreadful fate A promise for benevolence in all times A promise to accompany each other in life’s sweet crimes That was our day just before we got engaged And in my life’s book…it is still specially paged
Little Things In Life Life sure wasn’t straight…with every footstep ahead, it got curvy At times, it did get grey…sometimes topsy-turvy The first house…the first kid The unsuited job, the cash at times did backslid Our daughter’s biggest day She was engaged…and you were too sobbed to say Through with duties of life which were soaked in the honey of care Tired and relieved…I turn around…and found you just right there
Bliss was around, still a snivel of love dropped from the eye So clueless would be the tear if asked “why did you fill in the corner of the eye?” We sat back again Right there …at the edge Just the difference was Instead of two young people in their twenties We were the uncle aunt’s in their seventies The game of Life did complete its circle, we were the proud players We had jelled our colours…our spectrum was right here
You gripped my hand and closed my eyes I got inquisitive…and my dear hubby runs and sighs And hence we finally paused “Went up the hill… “At the age of 65…what made you run? The scene was still” What’s the cause…?” And you gradually removed your hands from my spec- With love… tacles… From Mrs. Smith AND THERE WE WERE…
At the top of the hill… The scene stood still…
By Shalini Chhabra
I'd rather be a "could-be', if I cannot be an "are'; because a "could-be" is a "maybe" who is reaching for a star. I'd rather be a "has-been" than a "mighthave-been', by far; for a "might-havebeen" has never "been", but a "has" was once an "are'. Milton Berle
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Time and Free Will
H
ow much free will does a Lorenz butterfly need to encompass to make that extra flap that could possibly cause a cyclone a decade after? What force is tangling my earphones all the time? What exactly complots the socks redistribution? Why bread always falls on the buttered side? (Don’t tell me it’s just gravity toppling over the heavier side. There is much more to it!) What makes Murphy law work?
Life, probably, is a complex function of all such infinite parameters. Some of them being quite loud others being trifle enough to evoke a thought about them.
Life is not unfolding at a throw of dice as HE supposed. Laplace, like Him, had reasons (over and above intuitive) to gestate the thought of a deterministicworld. So the prerequisite was the initial conditions for all such parameters and thebeautiful equations would If you have ever wondered the enormity of suppos- crystallize every future second. Reflect the horoscopes edly little things in life, the kind of contouring potent they stitch your history to planetary motions. they hold, you must agree that the smaller and subtler Let’s hold our horses for a moment! Both the above they seem the more happening and more influencing arguments have a fertile resistance. Mind the randomthey turn out to be. Trace the chaotic pendulum with ness. When things go perfectly random, a miraculous slight variations in initial angle or wonder the rule 30 symmetry is always born. Peep into statistical mechan(the chaotic evolution in cellular automation). ics or give some time to Friedman’s universe models. In the words of Vincent Von Gogh – “Great things are Nullifying effect diminishes the atomism or the grandalways done by series of small things brought together ness of individual entity. ”. You can’t swallow an elephant without cutting it into Let’s take a tour of virtual world of the computer pieces. Take the concept of integration. If you can’t games. Nearly all of us are familiar with the Super Mario make headway with something great just cut it down Bros., one of Nintendo’s most popular games. It doesn’t infinitesimally, play with that infinitesimal part the way matter how much more goombas/ koopas does Mario you like and progress all the way to completion. hit or more jumps it make or more fireballs it shoots if it Does our daily piffling stuff behave in a similar fashion? I mean does the apparently toothless stuff fix the final upshots. For instance is my selection in some interview influenced by stuff like colour of my underwear or crisscross of my right palm or numerical equivalent of alphabets in my name or the little amulet slapped against my body like an albatross around my neck or planetary motions or the twenty one omens heavens sent my way? I Avant Garde guess it does!!
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clears the stage with fixed identical final terminus every time i.e. survives the dragon and saves the princess. Extending the analogy to real world loses its composure as we can never be sure of identical terminus. Say, for an interview, I may have infinite histories to traverse such that the whole event can materialize with infinite variations in stuff like hand movements, breath durations, steps and the like such that all histories advance into only two apparently possible outcomes of selection or rejection, which assigns them a fairly 50-50 division.
Little Things In Life Now whereas it may seem plausible with a case of some friend Godel puts a fundamental limitation on logical lottery, it is highly unconvincing for case of interview. explanation of completely everything in this world. But is the probabilistic division such straightforward? These statements don’t limit God but the universal creatures like humans bounded by the laws of physics. Not exactly, let’s check the First digit law. It tells us that in a list of numbers taken randomly from many real life Thus we may still enjoy the assumption of a predetersources of data, the probability of leading digit of the mined world. numbers being 1 is not 11.11% (as supposed considerAs for a predetermined wavy future present infinitely ing fair distribution) but 30+ % !!! in space time, it is just a matter of how much free will With the case of determinism, Heisenberg, a great does a Lorenz butterfly possesses to make that extra personality becomes very uncomfortable as he be- flap that could possibly create a cyclone a decade lieves- “we can’t determine future for sure as we can’t after! determine present for sure”. If this is not sufficient, our
By Vishal Jindal
The Barometer Problem A physics professor asks in the final examination – Using a barometer how will you determine the height of a building. One student writes: You tie a long piece of string to the neck of the barometer, then lower the barometer from the roof of the building. The sum of the length of the string and the length of the barometer is equal to the height of the building. The professor admitted that the answer was technically correct, but it failed to demonstrate any basic knowledge of physics. The student was called and told that he would be passed if he could give a verbal answer in 10 minutes to prove some basic familiarity with physics. The student was silent for 8 minutes upon which the instructor reminded him that his time was running out. The student spoke : Drop the barometer from the top of the building, note the time taken. Height of the building = ½ gt2 . Or if it’s a sunny day , on the roof of the building record the length of the barometer’s shadow, the length of the building’s shadow ,the length of the barometer, and then it’s a matter of simple ratio and proportion to calculate the height of the building. Or swing the barometer like a pendulum , first on the roof ,then on the ground. Note the time taken in both cases.The height is worked out from the gravitation restoring formula T=2∏L/g . Or if the building has a staircase ,you could walk up and mark off the building height in terms of barometer lengths, taking the length of the barometer as one unit ,and then add them up . Or if you are the orthodox type, you could use the barometer to measure the pressure at the top and bottom of the building, and then using p = Þgh, calculate the height of the building. But since we are constantly in search of innovative solutions to problems , the best way would be to go to the basement and tell the sweeper “ Hey, if you tell me the height of the building, I will you give a brand new barometer” . The student was Niels Bohr and the professor was Rutherford. Avant Garde
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The Shadow Fax
So distant in time it seems, As I cross deserts after deserts. My mind urges me to wimp out of my descending the ladder of time. But my heart tenacious as ever, catches the fleeting glimpse of the hour five days ere Epiphany when an angel was born whose visage shone like the dew drops, cascading down from the freshly blossomed rose petal; sparkling in the wee rays of light. He carried a pernickety less aura around him, himself he was the God of small things; an alien to the earthly somberness. He, but not for long, was the father of man. As the halo turned fainter and fainter, and as he confronted the world with its entailing specks. It vanished eventually and he was no different from the horde. His vague attempts to re-establish the wall of moral wall were slaughtered by the society,
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and oft by his own bare hands. He was cwtched and forced to join the march towards the darkness, as if it were his proclivity. ‘It’s hard to take off the garb’, he feels; ‘there is no looking back’, he was hemmed in by materialism. Time flew past like the scorching west wind without moisture, and hither I lie today trapped inside the inky dungeon, bound in shackles large and heavy,
unwantedly breathing the stale miasma. ‘Whose slave have I become?’, I often wonder ‘Who put me under retribution?’ I lie here abjectedly and chafe at the vain attempts to emancipate myself off the walls of compunction. Nothing to mitigate the abysmal ambience. I see the other slaves sitting peacefully: some blissfully ignorant to their enslavement, they revel within the dark chambers with ever insatiable minds. Despondent I have become in this eternal futile race; bound in the shackles large and heavy, unwantedly breathing the stale miasma. But then a ray of light ushers through the window, piercing the darkness of the murky environs.
Little Things In Life
I stand and gaze through the bars a palpable sight I had never seen before: emerging out of the woods, a galloping Shadow Fax, whiter than the snow flakes embellishing the mountain peaks. As I stand here enthralled by the angelic figure, he tosses his head in temerity; a paragon of independence, a seeker of truth, rather the truth himself. The trees, it seemed to bow before him out of obeisance, the wind feeling honored to ruffle his hair and flowers perfuming the path as he passes along. With every stride of his, I can sense my shackles weakening around my neck and my hands. The brightness of the heavenly figure has materialized energy within me and imbued me with gumption like never before, to emancipate myself off this enslavement, to break down the walls of darkness, to soar freely in the sky like a Nightingale. Free will I be from the worldly sufferings, a transgressor will I become. My pact with the inky dungeon is now over never will I confront it again. - ABHINAV MATHUR
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Choice When I didn't have one?? At the moment of intense perplexity giving birth to desperation I seek for tears. My physical strength evolves into a run and my mind camouflages into yet another facet. Hidden under the shades of words and smile I define my presence in the ‘Room Of Judgement’. They say we’ll guide you to choose, to decide and to extract what’s in store for you and is rightfully yours. Strange are the concepts of mankind. We lament over misunderstandings but never try to vanquish its roots. We steal life yet speak of ‘heaven’. We love today and hate tomorrow. In all the virtues we share, we shape our journey with our choices. Its seldom that I acquire pessimism. Standing in the room of Judgement, just one grievance matches my hope, my strength. They say we can always control the outcome but what when we can’t. What when we fight with our own justifications? What when we have to wait for time to settle all issues? What when our next guest is really an unknown terror? Because I was never given a choice. I live in a room of mirrors. Huge mirrors placed adjacently , covering each and every bit of it. I enter the room astonishingly and observe the unconvention, eachtime. These mirrors don’t replicate me, rather they portray each and every Human I’m related to. The mirrors narrate me their stories, depict me their happy times and share the pain which they are unconditionally entitled to bare. I see, I observe but I can’t soothe them. I hear, I introspect but can’t speak to them. Metaphorically, I sometimes see them as thousand of shards thrust in me. They can’t see me watching, but their visible pain hurts me, asks me for patience. And the left adreline in me strikes me as forcefully, and commands me to act, to yell, to eradicate each blot of pain in them. On the contrary I see them as thousand of shinning pieces depicting their smile. It urges me to be happy, naturally. These mir
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Avant Garde
rors play varied roles as people do in normal world. The shards shadows light and the shine illuminates my room, similar to the concept of day and night. Mirrors here are not monotonous, because people in them differ unconditionally in each sphere. The fusion of ‘shards’ and ‘shine’ camouflage this stagnancy which engulfs my room. My diet lives on ‘thoughts’ which originate at the slightest transition possible. Thoughts change, some develop but rarely replicate. No two experiences share the same patterns but do correlate, as I usually observe. It’s been quite some time that I have spent in this ‘world of mine.’ But I don’t feel it any different. Regardless of any materialistic virtue, my room is a ‘world away from world’ to me. I have adapted its flora and fauna. I have adapted that this stage of mine involves only monologues. Sound, feeble yet audible travels only when I respond vaguely through my senses. Choice, a little concept of life, yet masters my Optimism, sometimes. Choice, as feeble as my decisions, yet as effective with time. My justifications shall always overpower me above this melancholy, yet a small ‘yes’ or ‘no’ makes me sad. Of all the air that blows into my room, lifts my hope and drives me to reality, something that can cause will be the thought of the buzzer that I couldn’t play. But yet again my optimism awaits me. I sit in the room silently waiting for someone to knock. I grab hope and allow the realization to master me. In near time(and I do not know how much time shall it be) I will realize that having ‘no choice’ is something for the ‘greater good’ that’s instored form me in the little thing called ‘destiny’.
By Suresh Malhotra
W
atching a butterfly flutter by my window, as I tried to make some sense and reason of the world as I saw it. Childhood was the realm of naivety, merriment and uninhibited cheerfulness, consisting of those little pleasures in life. The times that I lay in bed at night, my mother by my side, her touch more comforting than the softest blankets, her voice most soothing…the elation. Reminiscent of the time that I ran around in rain washed gardens, chasing frogs and trapping bright little ladybugs in your tiny palms. And those moments when joy meant making shadows in candlelight, and then singing happy birthday whenever somebody put the candles off. And then nature took over, and I began to grow, both physiologically and emotionally. Things weren’t the same as they were before, with different meanings, and different interpretations. Butterflies aren’t fun anymore, but instead, trying on father’s old shirts, or mother’s new cosmetic kit. The lipsticks, the nail polish, the blush, liner, the oh so many things! It’s confusing sans in a delightful manner. Joy was the first my mother took me shopping, and let me take my own pick. It was the time when my father handed me some green ones, and allowed me to go out with my friends, without parent supervision. Joy was just admiring myself in front of the mirror for hours at ends, creating a dream world around me, imagining all those things I would do and like to do when I grew up.
And how about when you were first allowed to make a call to your friend, it was short, but it was certainly sweet ! And then I grew, again. Things
Little Things In Life
on, I now had a wife, and a young child. Memories are still abounding of those times when I sat with my son, after a really tiring day, and watched cartoons. How long it had been, since a rat & cat chase had actually made me smile. Since silliness and immaturity had really been funny. And when while flipping through the channels; I caught one of them airing a show that I had watched during my own childhood. Getting out of the idiot box now, it doesn’t really take all that mush to make our day! Just a simple “good morning” early in the day, or a nice workout in the morning. And what could be better than finding a traffic-clear path to work, having colleagues go out of their way to come greet us, getting a good feedback from the boss or coming home to the smell of some amazing supper stirred up for us. And as I sit on my rocking chair, aged way past my prime, I ponder, I reflect and I realize, that all those fellow peers, who complain that the coming generations miss the small things in the greed for bigger fish, are just playing the typecast hypocrites. What they do not realize, is that the world moves, and so does everything along with it.
LITTLE THINGS IN LIFE
make more sense now, and yet they seem so insensible. The components that make up joy have changed now, there are different means, different routines. No more is just sitting around and chatting boring. A second look by a girl is NOT sick now, but rather, sets the heart flickering. I remember how sheepish I felt when a friend came over to remind me that it was his birthday that day, and that I had forgotten to wish him. Also that once when he stumbled upon a Cadbury éclairs in his pocket, and was considerate enough to bite off only half and offer the other half to me. And then I paid back his bigheartedness by posting an embarrassing video of him on the internet. And then it was time to get seri- Things change, things evolve, ous, when one day, I was informed, just as the def initon of : that I had finally become an adult. “THE LITTLE THINGS IN LIFE” It was what I had always looked forward to. I had a degree, a plush job By Ayush Khanna and was finally out of the pocket money stage. Moving a little further
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"So
, what makes life worth it? Worth waking up every morning, worth going to college or work . I sat there, pondering over these thoughts playing roulette with my mind. I sat there, looking outside at the Pole Star keeping its solitary watch, the eternal guide for us travellers and the answers came as if descending not from the heavens but from a part of me which always knew them but chose to be silent. A letter from an e-pal sent eons ago came straight to my mind- a ‘Dear John’ letter with its paternal twist. Here it is, reprod uced with all its emotions save one tiny little one. The piece still missing. Dear John, Its been about 16 years since we last met. I really hope you’ve been doing good. I don’t know what to say here.Should I go along with the usual and say what my feelings for you are and will always be? Or should I skip it all and conform to my duties- and my heart- and tell you the one thing you must know, before you embark on your journey of life? You know, once a king asked his ministers to assemble all the knowledge in this world in one sentence. One sentence that would ensure that the future generations never lost out on the knowledge accumulated over the centuries. After trying for months, asking every wise man they knew, they finally came to the answer... And the answer was simple, just what the king wanted. “There is no free lunch in this world-” This sentence contained the world’s entire knowledge. And, it stands true even now. I wish I was there with you right now, holding you in my arms, something I always wanted to do, to see you while I spoke these words to you. But distance being the limitation it is, I will not be able to do it, though my arms yearn for your embrace and my eyes crave for one look of your face. What I wish to convey, John, is that even though there are no free lunches in this world, there is something more important than just paying for your lunch. It’s the smile in the eyes of the one you care, the laughter of a child playing on the swings, the tears of a mother when she sees her new born, a father’s pride on seeing his child walk towards him for the first time. It’s the love of a sparrow feeding her hatchling. And it’s the love which is giving me the strength I need to write this letter to you. Have you ever woken up to find that your mom put your blanket on you when it fell off while you were asleep?
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Little Things In Life
And when your best friend comes, sees the look in your eyes and sits by you, silently letting you know that whatever life puts you through, he is with you, through
it all? These little things, John, are what matter the most. Ask a dying man, he won’t ever lie to you. When on the deathbed, the only thing a man remembers are all those unsaid words, those moments when he looked into the eyes of his beloved and saw the same affection as 40 years ago and the time when his friend gave him his extra pen in the exam, knowing he did not have money enough to buy a new one those little emotions of the heart that we neglect,but without which we will be nothing more than machines.With this little thing- emotionwe are humans, putting effort and gaining immense joy from the task. A dying person never lies John. Heed that persons advise- for he/she does not want you to go through life as if it’s a mere task, because it is not. It’s an opportunity, an opportunity to love, live and enjoy the wind on your face, the smell of the rain and your beloved’s embrace... As I lie on this final bed of mine, I wish for just one thing- that my son will one day read this and that when he is on his deathbed, he smiles and thanks for a life well loved. Your dad, Jamie Now, reading this once again, I find my doubts going away. For I know what makes it worth waking up everyday- the smell of a challange..... called life.
By Harshdeep Singh
I think we’have all arrived at a very special place. Spiritually, ecumenically, grammatically.
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A poem which I had read as a child intimidates me even as an adult. The poem is a harsh reality and talks about something which is right before our eyes and yet we put a blind eye to it. The moral dilemmas and ambiguities that todayâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s women are facing raises very interesting thoughts to ponder over. The lady in the poem is a victim of oppression by the hands of her husband. She has become weak, physically as well as mentally. Her bones being old and fragile are left with no strength to carry on a struggle. The mental trauma which her marriage has given her has turned her into a nervous wreck. She works by day and weeps by night. Fear is always on her mind, afraid of the dark reality which has constantly hounded her life. Her bleak might, always on a lookout for someone to understand her plight.
Women
Now her husband is no more and she is all alone with only memories to reflect upon. Her entire life has passed before her eyes and after all these years only two images come to her mind. As she holds a paintbrush and sways it around the canvas, she draws two tigers. They appear to be prancing across the whole picture. The tigers are in sharp contrast to her. Elegantly they walk and display a sense of bravery. Pride is reflected in their roar and tremendous strength in every battle they fight. To be like them is an impossible dream that she is nurturing. Contrary to the fearless tigers, she feels scared and alone. If a woman is willing to consciously make the choice to let go of her old stories of doubt, unworthiness and insecurity, she has the
to move into a level of self-acceptance .This is true prisoners of opportunity empowerment. As we lighten up, we discover that taking flight is god much sweeter than squirming around on the ground. Next she draws a ring. The ring symbolizes bondage, a life of a or captive, a prisoner. The fruits of this beautiful marriage ring were prisoners by sour and painful which she had to bear her entire life. She could not fulfill her wish and break the ring. It wasnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t that easy. She men would be looked down upon by the society.
anirudh singhal
38 Avant Garde
And one day she would die, her hands lying motionless and still ringed with ordeals that she was mastered by. The tigers would be set free. Free to rule over the world, proud and unafraid. She accepts her state in the wake of a hope that the others to come
Little Things In Life after her won’t be destined to a similar fate as hers. The very existence of woman is precious and needs gentle loving kindness. No hammer, no chisel and no axe in this midst of chaos or turmoil will force her worth to the surface. Only patience, love and gentle persistence will help her in mustering up courage and to go for it! Courage is not the absence of fear; it is feeling the fear and doing something anyway. Even in today’s date where our country boasts of modernization, economic upliftment for women, reservations for them in institutions, there are many women who act as a silent spectator and are traumatized and oppressed behind those four walls of their house. There are many like them, each living life in misery and unaware of all that life has to offer from its treasury. It is at the domestic level where the problem lies. The true essence of freedom lies in the basic fact that both the sexes live together on equal terms. Change is the need of the hour. If we bring about the change, we need to have the innate intelligence to live the change. Society needs to understand her silence and solitude. Let the winds calm and leave behind a crystal clear blue sky. If more encouragement is given to them and the male acts as a support rather than obstruction for women, then there would be no need to break the ‘ring’ and the society would flourish in terms of equity. To respect her, keep going strong. But tread gently on her path to freedom. And always remember Be gentle, my precious Beloved! SALVATION IN SOLITUDE
Salvation in Solitude Life was a joyful moment once Millions of smiles and laughter of tonnes There were moments to rejoice And share our sorrows and joys But now the time has changed Snatching away all the peace and solace The paths of life have diverted their ends And it is asking the old moments to surrend The place where I was welcomed like an angel Now those eyes stare at me as a stranger Those arms which were always open for an embrace Now I can find no such trace A void is created in my life Which compels me to struggle and strife To find tranquility for my soul Which is full of many dejected holes Now I am lonely Left with those shouts and cries only Which scream and say? To pour out these tears and fill some gay But my heart is in search of peace A peace which is not mundane but speaks A peace which is eternal A peace which is internal I closed my eyes And the hot tears poured down A voice said to me that I am within you I am the voice which always called you But you were deaf to my sounds Now senses are open and you can find me all around It is a new day for me A new life for me I found the happiness in Him the almighty God And I realized that He is the one, who will pull me out from all odds Now there was a smile inside me A thought of salvation which will always walk with me
By Akanksha Anand
Avant Garde
39
The road Taken
alone(which was quite true). They influenced me to such an extent that I actually did reconsider my plan. But then…insanity won!! On the 13th, I disguised myself as a guy. I was partially successful. It did confuse people but only momentarily. The disguise needed improvisation. Anyway, there’s always a next time. I started at 11:00 am and our bus reached Haridwar at 5:30 pm, immediately after which I started to search for an accommodation. All lodgings were full and those which had vacant rooms were charging almost five times the normal rates. Finally, I ended up finding a veryone in this world has dreams…but there are room for Saturday night. I had my dinner and slept well. not many who’ve the heart to fulfill them… I had to leave at daybreak. Ever since I came to my senses(or rather lost In the morning, I walked to har ki pauri, the most them!), it has been my dream to travel the entire world famous bathing ghat. Even at 5:30 am the streets were alone with nothing but a backpack and a road-map. It crowded. I reached there just in time to catch the was naturally impossible while I was staying at home… morning aarti. The sight of the river took my breath but now, when I am far away, I can think of doing away. I went near the water to wash my face with the something. holy waters. I did not intend to take a dip that day, but, It was January when opportunity knocked on my door. as I put my feet in the water and went forward, the river One of my friends who is very fond of travelling told pulled me inside. My feelings at that time were a mix me that he was going to Haridwar to attend the Maha- of exhilaration and fear. Even my cellphone and purse Kumbh. I too wished to go. I asked mom. As expected, took a dip with me; my map was gone. I handed over she outrightly refused. But somehow I could never drop my phone to a police officer standing near-by and took the idea…after all, Mahakumbh happens only once in a proper dip. I saw the sunrise at the river. It was all too every 12 years! mesmerizing to be true!
E
IT WAS NOW OR NEVER. If I hesitated maybe I ‘d never ever take the first step! I decided to proceed for Haridwar without telling anyone at home. I searched the net for auspicious dates as I wanted to make sure to take a dip in the holy ganga on the days of shahi-snan. The first date was on Mahashivratri which I wanted to attend. But it was almost impossible because of celebration of the festival at my home. So finally I selected the next date i.e. 13th March, which was somvati amavsya. On the night before leaving , I got a lecture from my room mates telling me it was mad Avant Garde to go there all
40
Next destination was Mansa Devi temple which was on a near-by hill. From there you get a panoramic view of Haridwar .Unfortunately, I couldn’t click any pictures with my phone as it had a water film on its camera lens, so all that was captured was hazy. Then I moved into the Burra Bazaar- the market is spread over a vast area, just as suggested by its name. Sweet shops, restaurants, shops selling almost everything one can imagine, travel agencies, streets full of pilgrims and amazed foreigners are what one can find there. I got another printout of my map which I had been carrying in my pen-drive. After a brunch of puri-bhaaji, I headed towards Chandi Mata Madir which again is on a hill some 3 km from har ki pauri. On the way, I met a security personnel
from RAF( Rapid Action Force) and we started talking. His name was Shri Krishna Kumar. He accompanied me to the temple. After offering prayers at the temple, we came down via the gondola, enjoying the scenery ahead of us. Next, I went with him to the RAF camp where I explored the camp. I was told of the heavy security arrangements made for the event. At 4:30pm I took leave from them and again left for har ki pauri which was to be my sanctuary that night. People were pouring in and soon the place was shimmering with lighting which was getting reflected in the ganga , a breath-taking view. I offered prayers to the holy river and let the diya flow in the river like many others. I found a place and settled down to rest by riverside. It had been a tiresome day, lying there looking at the river was so soothing, the cool breeze rocked me to sleep instantly. It was a serene sleep, like the one I get into when I am in my mother’s arms. Finally I got up at 3:00am, freshened up and left for the main bathing ghat. One didn’t even need to make efforts to move ahead, so heavy was the rush, one faulty step and there’d be stampede!!! Now that’s the much famed “Mahakumbh!” As I entered the ghat, I was touched by the faith of people.The place was jam packed with people from all over the country who had converged here just to take a dip in the river. This faith is what makes the ganga holy and pious. I handed over my bag and phone to Arvind bhaiyya, whom I’d met on the way, and went ahead to bathe in the river. By 8 am we were asked to clear the area to give way to various akharas. Akharas are huge groups of saints and their followers. They had set up their camps in the vicinity. We found a spot on a slope and watched the exercise from there. It was amazing. There was so much more to see but there were no vehicles available and I did not have the strength to walk. All I wanted was to return. I had already seen the major places. After lunch I took leave from Arvind bhaiya and went to the bus stand. On the way I met Krishna uncle and bade him farewell.
Little Things In Life
The bus stand was nowhere to be seen. It had been shifted further. I was so tired that I was almost on the verge of tears. I wished to die, to be run over by some vehicle. Finally I reached the bus stand but couldn’t find any bus that’d take me to Patiala or even Ambala. I couldn’t take it anymore and got into bus for KulluManali that dropped me at Ambala at 9:00 pm. I took the first bus that’d take me to Patiala. It was the first time I didn’t regret paying 80 bucks for the AC coach for I slept like the dead, didn’t even answer any of the 18 missed calls from my friend who was waiting at the bus stand, ready to slap me(well I deserved it. I scared the hell out of him!). But seeing me in a pathetic state he simply took my bag and brought me back to college. My room-mates gave a sigh of relief on seeing me. So this is how I took the first step towards the fulfillment of my dream. There are some things I have learned. I would like to share them with you. People say that goodness no longer exists in the world…Not true! The world is full of good people. It is only we who see the evil. This is what has been my experience however small it may be. You reap as you sow. One more thing, sometimes you have to go beyond the small things and think big and dare to do them. Else you’d spend the rest of your life regretting your inaction. The trip was meant to be a tour, an adventure but it became a pilgrimage. I was never alone, for God was with me, helping me at every step, I felt his(or her) presence. The beginning was great… let’s see how far I shall reach!!
41 Avant Garde
By Harsh Maithani Indian bapu’s motivation speech before 10th Board exams: “Beta, tere 10th board ka score is the most important one of your life. Achchi percentage aayi , to hi to Science milegi 11th mein” Mata ji’s motivation speech for 12th exams: “Beta, 12th ki percentage hi sab kuch decide karti hai. Competition paper ki tayyari to hoti rahegi…” Coaching sir’s speech for IIT / Aieee: “Beta, achche engineering college mein admission ho jaaye to phir to zindagi “set” hai… agar IIT mein Jo jaaye, to phir to “mazaa” hi aa jayega. Abhi khoob mehnat kar le, iske baad to aish hi aish hai… “ On the first day of college, I started off for the day. Unable to locate my classroom I stopped someone and asked “Execuse me, Hi, my name is Harsh, I am in first year, do you know where is F-108?” “Oh, hi, I am in first year as well, are you in C- batch? I have the same class ...” I replied “yeah, am in c-batch, let’s go together, by the way what’s your name “He extended his hand for a handshake and said “I’m harsh too”. We were late; I entered the class and saw 130 pairs of eyes looking at me which freaked me out. Holy @$#&^) ! , itne saare! Sab hi pahunch gaye…I took a seat in the middle row and the teacher entered. Somehow every teacher finds it a matter of great pleasure to take classes of the first year. They start off with the usual “So...finally, made it to Thapar eh.., kaisa lag raha
42
Avant Garde
hai... “ followed by “ Yeh 4 saal sab se important hain. Achchi C.G. le aana. Ek baar badhiya placement lag gayi, to phir to zindagi bhar aish karoge …” Half way down the lecture, I thought of initiating conversation with my neighbour. “Hi, I’m Harsh from Delhi and you are...? “ “Hi, I’m Harsh from Ganganagar” ... God damn! Kitne Harsh hain is batch mein?? My query was answered in the roll call. Found out that there were 5 more Harsh. More amusing was the fact that there were around 5 Harpreet as well, four of them Singh, and 1 of them Kaur. The first day was a big letdown, completely unlike what they show in movies. I started day dreaming of what image I had of college prior to admission. Aha... College – the ultimate place to be, jannat on earth, where you hang out in canteen the whole day, you roam around on motorcycles and sometimes even stand on them for no reason (remember Ajay Devgan in Phool aur Kaante ) ,playing guitar is your birth right, you have hair styles which defy fashion,gravity,and parental approval. You wear “Che Guevara” T-shirts, Chetan Bhagat is God and Five point someone is Bible... and… Snap back to reality, I found myself with a drafter in hand ,fixing a white sheet on the draft board, and learning how to write all the letters of the alphabet once again ( first class of Egra ). This wasn’t exactly what I had imagined myself to be doing on my first day. And if that wasn’t sufficient, by the last class we were even given “homework” …
Little Things In Life I felt betrayed and held the media responsible for my predicament. Does this happen everywhere? Only in engineering colleges or even worse, only in Thapar?? Mujhe bewakoof banaya gaya hai , I thought to myself. This is no college. It’s the biggest school in “northern India”. That’s all. Back at hostel, there was only one topic for group discussion – the various manifestations of ragging in different colleges of India, with special emphasis on new and improvised techniques of ragging at government medical colleges – “Ek baar ek fresher ko mombati leke shamshaan ghaat mein jaane ko kaha...” There were only 5 girls in my batch, which made the rest of us 130 feel underprivileged, especially since we heard the ratio was better in the other batches...sigh.. zindagi ***** hai (please don’t count the stars to figure out the word). MCA- now that’s a branch to be in if you wish to settle down in college and enjoy the bliss of companionship. There is this unwritten Commandment of
Thapar – First year guys liketh the senior girls, 2nd year guys their seniors, and so on till 3rd year, but 4th year blokes liketh 1st year girls. It’s a perfect cycle. I remember vividly a ppt given by a classmate who would perhaps even murder someone for a perfect 10 C.G). Midway, I raised my hand and asked “Good speech, now tell me your views on Euthanasia (it is similar to mercy killing in case you didn’t know) and then I’ll ask you my question. With confidence in his voice he replied “Yes, my friend, I agree with you (agree to what ??). I believe that the youth-in-asia have a very big role to play in world affairs and...” ( ??? !!! ) The teacher fainted. It was only after 5 minutes that our know-it-all genius finally realized and then admitted humbly that he had no bloody clue what euthanasia was...after all he couldn’t just say “I don’t know” ,he was a dassi after all (no hard feelings my dassi friends, some of you are cool, but then only “some” of you) Competition was inevitable. And I’m not talking about academics. Man’s primitive and evolutionary traits of finding a companion are at their best display in 1st year.
Some attempts to woo the opposite sex were outrageous – Hi Anita (name changed), I’m dash-dash-dash, Aieee rank 3124... (for god sake, get a life man) . Some tried to charm their way in- Hey Preity (once again, name changed) you look stunning, ya.. the boys here are such despots, they use such cheesy lines to impress girls (dekho baat kaun kar raha hai) Some resorted to secret emails and clandestine communication – Hi Pragya, I have no clue whether you know me or not (simply put, whether you are aware of my existence, coz there are 28 more boys who have a crush on you). We are in the same batch, today you gave your OB presentation, it was very good ( naturally). You look good in green (and red and yellow and pink?), can we meet... Luckily, my close knit friend group was able to protect itself from feminine influences. No one fell in love; no one fell out of it either. We did not have to recharge the mobiles of anyone else except ours. But tragedy strikes, and really hard when you (a) take a student who’s been in Kota for two years, couldn’t crack the JEE, is frustrated and has vowed never to study again and (b) give him the book “5 point someone”. You have a perfect recipe, the most potent ingredients for a perfect 5 C.G It’s been a long time since that day when I first came to this place. Met all sorts of crazy people and had even more crazier moments with them. Its been one heck of a time. Disclaimer: The author is well renowned for his exaggeration. Many of the events as narrated in this article might simply not have ever taken place. Adios
43 Avant Garde
ELIXIR ‘09
A
nd they mess up again, but
block- ‘The Bottled Spider’. Both
in the cutest of ways... They
being a step up towards glory.
stared into the crowd that
The awesome thing about
brought with it a fusion of excitement
Literary society is that it strives
and expectations. The general secretar-
to attract audience interested
ies hid their anxiety and started with the
in Hindi and Punjabi literary
first few words of the inaugural speech .
culture as well. The innovative
Beads of sweat worked down the faces
events included Trividha, Quest
of the beings of the admin team behind
for the Pentacle, Quizzes,Giant
the stage. It was the beginning of some-
Wheel,Kavi
thing that would mark the most mem-
many others.
Sammelan
and
orable literary extravaganza. Sighs of
This Elixir experienced the
relief were heard backstage as the Gen
most extensive and splendid
Secs spoke. Finally, as the clock ticked its
publicity of all times. Each team
last second, the audience broke into an
had its own ideas and strategies
applause. Yes, Elixir had begun.
to gain fame and support. Lit-
Elixir is the destination for those stu-
soc got a new high when Elixir
dents with a burning passion outside
received fabulous response on
the realm of their studies and a desire to
the teams’ blogs and and Face-
showcase whatever literary talent they
book pages. It was a feeling be-
may possess.
yond the joy...beyond the suc-
In those 3 days in the first week of No-
cess and beyond the euphoria.
vember of Elixir 2009, LITSOC reached
Be it the compelling literary
rounds that revolved around interesting
new heights .The festival catered to the
arguments that banished ignorance in
taste of a varied audience with events
the Elixir Debate or the entertaining per-
Antakshri proved to be entertaining
ranging from Literary arts to Performing
ceptions of arts like mimicry and mono
and fun. Events like De-Compose, Giant
Arts.
acting during Trividha, each event had a
Wheel and Creative writing proved to
fresh and an unmatched charm to it.
be a milestone as it helped to hunt out
To keep up the glam quotient, Elixir had two amazing and incredible stage plays to unravel. The showcase of the ever renowned and celebrated ‘Arsenic
44
Events like Tellebration added a new
concepts.
credible and talented writers.
flavour to the literary aura and intro-
Another crowd puller was JAM. As
duced the fervid art of storytelling for
the JAM Masters ruled and exuviated
the very first time.
the guts of the participants, the crowds
and the Old Lace’ and
The series of events in the Quest for
a new one on the
the Pentacle kept the participants on the
Moviemaking was a fantastic event
edge of their seats during the exciting
which left the whole auditorium in awe.
Avant Garde
cheered and hailed to the Gods.
Little Things In Life
The mesmerized aura captivated the
The prize distribution ceremony with
further years. And then we show our ap-
audience as the winning movie was
its big trophies and glowing medals
preciation and congratulate everyone
screened.
was surely an emotional moment for all
from the admin team to the year repre-
The Year representatives searched
of us. The smiles of the winners, the un-
sentatives and the participants who put
and showcased the most capable tal-
remitting applause from the audience,
together an implausible event.
ent and brought us many steps ahead
the celebrations and congratulations
We at LITSOC always have new his-
towards a brilliant success. The Admin
backstage will always remain etched in
tories to create and higher heights to
Team heaved a sigh of relief every night
the hearts of all those associated with
reach..The best has been celebrated...
as the events ended for the day.Moti-
Elixir-09. We would like to express grati-
and Litsoc always has better to deliver..
vating text messages, high fives and the
tude to Maneek Sir And Mr. N.K Verma
Always...
excitement of the successful day geared
for their unending support and help to
us up for the next dayâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s events and the
make Elixir-09 a success and in setting
adreline rush that they would bring.
up the best standards for LITSOC for
By Simar Walia
Avant Garde
45
M
arlon Brando -The Godfather.
Photographers would take a close up of his face and people would go awe!! And as he tweaks his mouth to say something, suddenly everyone would erupt in prodigious cheers and boisterous joys! His smile was enough to make a public statement. The eye contact held the intentions so clear that one could not afford to miss and appraise . That was the attention he commanded . And the people , who loved him, appreciated him in a manner, that â&#x20AC;&#x2122;s no longer visible in todayâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s world . They feel happy that they were born in the same generation as he was. By any margin , if someone would catch even the slightest glimpse of him, he would be overwhelmed by his stroke of luck , blessed with fortune . How many children would say they have ever appreciated home until they have left for a new place , say a college? Who respects the worth of a good health
46 Avant Garde
better than the terminally ill? How often do we fail to appreciate what we have until we have it no more? A man may never truly know water until he is desperate with thirst. Educative ambivalent life is a paradigm which inculcates both , the exhaustion after revelry and the rise of a new spirit from the conflagration . Out of the many challenges we confront, the most difficult is to go onstage and please hundreds of people in the audience , waiting for your slightest
Little Things In Life
The least you can do is Appreciate
error to ridicule at. And every time during a dramatic performance , there will be people sitting in the crowd who feel their loud expressions are more important and hilarious than of those on stage who have been practicing days altogether only to give a 2 hour performance .
Imagine - a world renowned Pianist is giving a live performance in London . Thousands of people are there in the hall , watching his every single twitch . It is he who is nervous. It is he who is worried about his orchestration . It is he who is worried where his chords are placed . It is he who has to take care of his sitting posture . It is he who has to handle the stage for the next one and a half hour. And it is he who is anxious as to how the show will turn out. Yet, there are people in the audience who will react all so suddenly and loudly, giving hi5’s to their friends around for every useless comment they make . Then there will be some who would be skittering their way along the hall once the act is over to give their over the top heartiest congratulations to those who have just performed . Among them will be some who will give a standing ovation and still there will be some who will only clap and will make their way along the shortest route to the back door. To be honest, it doesn’t take much to appreciate . It doesn’t take much to make that person on stage feel good , that he has done a commendable job. To make someone’s performance memorable is one of the rare gifts we can bestow as a human being. If you don’t wish to bear the suffering of sitting in the audience , then please , there is always an exit gate at the back begging you to leave , rather than spoiling the ambience for everyone . Many of us will perhaps never get a chance to go on that stage in our 4 years of college life . But instead of being complacent we can behave as mature viewers, as patient listeners, as individuals who respect the effort gone behind a performance , irrespective of how it has turned out to be , for our one honest gesture of praise can motivate someone to go back to the stage once again .
By Zubin Arora
Avant Garde
47
"बचपन"
saDk ko iknaaro yaa basa sTOMD pr yaa ifr Cuk Cuk krtI To\`na ko iDbbaaoM mao nahI tao ifr iksaI caaya kI dukana pr hr pla ijaMdgaI sao laD,ta huAa hr GaD,I ek maaOt marta huAa bacapna garIba bacapna. Saaitr hO Baa[- Saaitr kuC BaI kr sakto hO ApnaI poT ko Kaitr pla Bar mao saamaana ]D,a lao jaae^MgaoM tuma laaK kaoiSaSa kraogao pr yao pkD, mao nahIM Aae^Mgao. sahsaa ek Saaor TUTI maoro sapnaao kI Daor AaOr Saaor BaI maoro pICo kMpaT-maoMT kI Aaor. maOM jaagaa AaOr ]saI Aaor Baagaa ijaQar Saaor qaa laaogaao ka hujaUma cahu^M Aaor qaa AaOr baIca mao ifr ek bacapna ina:sahaya, laacaar......garIba bacapna raota huAa, ibalaKta huAa Saayad ]sanao caaorI kI qaI. maOnao kha baccaa hO CaoD, dao pasa vaalao nao kha Baa[- [nhoM baccaa mat samaJaao BaaolaI saurt tao hO Par A@la ka [nhoM kccaa mat samaJaao. maOnao kha vaao tao zIk hO pr @yaa [tnaI CaoTI galatI kI [tnaI baD,I saja,a daogao? [sa CaoTo baccao sao BaI @yaa kuStI ka maja,a laaogao. laaogaao ko idlaao maoM baat A^MT gayaI kuC hI plaaoM mao BaID, BaI vaha^M sao C^MT gayaI. jaato hue iksaI nao kha Agar [tnaI dyaa idKayaaogao tao ek idna baurI trh pCtaAaogao. maOnao ]sa baccao ka haqa qaamaa AaOr ]sa pla ko ilayao ]sao hI Apnaa
48
Avant Garde
hmasaf,r maanaa AaOr kuC plaao baad ]tr gayaa Apnao gaMtvya pr maOnao ]sasao puCa caaorI @yaaoM krto hao? ]sanao kha jaba sao raoiTyaaoM kI jagah gaailayaa^M KayaI hO tBaI sao caaorI krnao kI saaoca jaohna mao AayaI hO. saaba, Agar gaailayaaoM sao poT Barta tao saaocaao, tba maOM caaorI hI @yaU^M krta? baap ka pta nahIM pr maa^M k[- idnaao sao baImaar hO. ]sakI ija,MdgaI AaOr maaOt ko baIca basa ek ptlaI saI dIvaar hO. yah dIvaar kBaI BaI TUT saktI hO saaba maorI iksmat kBaI BaI fUT saktI hO saaba. maa^M ko ilayao naa dvaa hO naa hI Kanao kao Gar mao kuC hO. Aba Aap hI baaoolaao saaba maOM @yaa k$^M? caaorI naa k$^M tao @yaa BaUKaoM ma$^M? sahsaa maorI naja,r ]sakI naja,r sao imalaI maOnao payaa ]na AaK^Mao mao ek AjaIba saI camak qaI maOM ijatnaa ]sa pla kr sakta qaa maOnao ikyaa AaOr ifr ]sao CaoD, Apnao gaMtvya kI Aaor cala idyaa. qaaoD,I dUr calakr maOnao mauD,kr doKa vaao najaroM mauJao hI doK rhI qaI. pr maoro kdma ibanaa $ko Aagao baZ,to calao gae maOM ijatnaa ]sasao dUr jaa rha qaa maora mana ]sako ]tnao hI krIba Aa rha qaa pr maOM baZ,ta gayaa baZ,ta gayaa [nhIM #yaalaaoM mao Dubao hue ik ]na naja,rao kao iksaI kI tlaaSa hOM Saayad vah yahIM khI Aasa pasa hOM. @yaa vaao Aap hOM @yaa vaao maOM hU^M yaa @yaa hmaara tqaakiqat samaaja hOM ?
AiBaYaok kumaar
saagar sao gahra [Msaana
Little Things In Life
[Msaana sao gahra hO saagar yaa saagar sao gahra [Msaana. ifr rhI qaI maOM Aba tk [sa baat sao ibalkula AMjaana.. khnao vaalao khto hO ik saagar sabasao gahra hO. pr [Msaana kI gahra[-yaaoM pr kha^ iksaI ka phra hO.. maaotI maClaI panaI paOQao jaIva jaMtuAao sao Bara hO samaMdr. Par jaanao iktnao raja iCpo hO ek maamaUlaI sao [Msaana ko AMdr.. saagar kI gahra[- kao tao ifr BaI naap ilayaa hmanao. pr @yaa kBaI pUro haoMgao [Msaana ik gahra[- maapnao ko sapnao.. saagar tao pardSaI- hO, dUr tk panaI hI panaI hO. [Msaana baahr sao kuC idKta hO pr AMdr na[- khanaI hO.. saagar ko AMdr tao panaI kI kla kla ka Saaor hO. pr [Msaana ko AMdr saaO rMgaao kI baura[-yaaoM ka jaaor hO..
pUjaa jaOna
yao safr maora
vaao ibato pla hmaMo yaad Aato hO,M. ]sa pla maoM qaI AaOr hma basa yaadaoM mao hI rh jaanaa caahto hOM .. hmaarI hrkto iktnaI PyaarI. skUla mao k.g. ka vaao phlaa idna. pr QaImao QaImao Aa ga[- baDo, haonao kI phlaI [nT`\vaola vaao phlaa iTiFfna.. baarI.. raoto hue @laasa $ma maoM Gausao qao hma. kuC daostI hu[ AaOr BaI gahrI. mammaI papa sao ibaCuDnao ka vaao gama.. AaOr kuC qaI isaf- matlaba BarI.. TIcar sao vaao phlaI maulaakat. Gar vaalaaoM ka khto rhnaa pZa[- pr dao Qyaana. nanhoM nanhoM daostaoM sao vaao phlaI baat.. pr hma samaJato qao ik`eiTivaTI maoM ApnaI Saana.. laD,naa BaI qaa iktnaa bacakanaa. vaao bacapna kI baoifik` hu[- ifr kuC kma. pla Bar ka laD,naa pla Bar moa maana jaanaa.. idla kI bajaae idmaaga sao saaocanao lagao hma.. pD,aosa ko hr baccao sao daostI krnaa. samaya baZta gayaa baZta gayaa pZa[- ka Baar. Syaama haoto hI pak- maoM Kolanao Baaga jaanaa.. kBaI imalaI saflata kBaI imalaI har.. naa qaI iksaI kI prvaah naa qaa kao[ svaaqa-. pr hma hue naa inaraSa saMga jaao qaa . calanaa Apnao daostao ko saMga Dala haqaao mao haqa.. Apnaao ka Pyaar..
iSap`a caaOQarI
Reality of Unreal World
P
By Ravleen Kaur
rogress was all right. Only it went too long. So much so, that one of the simple but genuine pleasures in life, today, is getting up in the morning and hurrying to a mousetrap u set, just the night before. Rushing t the mirrir, almost always with a fear of being yourself. Yesteryears didn’t hold the same uncertainity.Men were nomads but not wanderers. Unlike today, when everyone says ‘me’, knowing all the while its not him. Today he knows what he is fleeing from, but not what he is in search of. Peace of mind, serenity of thought, was all that existed. The pristine times might have faded away, long lost emotions might today lay forsaken, the truth of the times today, is that the word euphoria has long been eroded of the minds of people. Today ostentatious eyes sparkle with mysterious shades, but only on the outside. Within, extent hollow depths, voids. What an irony; being opulent enough to spend on the shimmer to dress up one’s eye but poor, as to be robbed
it is most difficult to bear the tears, we ourselves have caused. And it results in escapism. A tendency to evade the pain via a simpler route. N o wonder, the skittish child, clings to the dog, weeping the tears of loneliness, ironically, when he is not alone. Dressed up in commands attire, he surrenders to speechless company. What a contrast. What a shame. A child, who has barely learnt to comprehend the fallible world around him, has been deserted by the very same world. The pragmatic world which aspires to spin two rotations in 24 hours, the world which dreams of working 24hours a day, the world which wishes for 65 minutes every hour, the world which ticks twice every second, not knowing that
off their sheen.Silently,a tear trickles down the corner of the dressed up eye. The hands trace the outside of the surface, trying to caress the pearl that left its oyster. But, the hands, too plane as compared to the plastered face, refrain from wiping the tear or perhaps the pace of mad rushing world doesn’t allow the time to soothe one’s own sorrows. Today, man has no enemies, but is intensely disliked by friends.Everytime he looks at his companions; he gets a fierce desire to be lonesome. The fuming eyes hold a mysterious emotion, that of fear. The fear of being told the truth, the truth about his selfish desires, self inspired motives. Somebody Avant Garde has rightly said,
it pulls the trigger of the bomb it has itself planted. The world where a glitch in a machine, spells millions lost.
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Where are we heading? Isn’t the aura emanating from these vacant eyes enough to stir and awakening? Lets hitch the horse to the pole. Let’s muster up the courage to reap what we have sown and recreate the long lost ethereal world; abandon the vindictive instincts, simply by rooting within us, a poetic imagination, an urge to spare the time to “STOP AND STARE”. Lets stop alluding our worries to those who don’t wear any responsibility, whatsoever, for our miseries. Its time to reduce our pace, to care for emotions, for people, for ourselves…infact for the sake of our ownself.Always remember, it is not easy to find happiness in ourselves but it is not possible to find it elsewhere.
Little Things In Life
"ek Add p`Sna hO" ek Add p`Sna hO. @yaa Aa^MKaoM mao Aa^MsaU [sa baat ka p`tIk hO ik hma kmaj,aaor hO? bacapna sao ]ma` ko [sa pDava tk, jaha^M maOM baIsa vasaMt ka caSmadId gavaah hU^M yah A@sar hI saunata Aayaa hU^M ik,“baoTa raoto nahIM.....yah Aa^MsaU tumharI kmajaaorI kI inaSaanaI hOM.” prMtu [sa tk- sao naa kBaI maOM sahmat qaa AaOr naa hI Aaja hU^M. maOM kt[- nahIM maanata ik hr raonao vaalao kmajaaor hI haoto hOM.Aba jaha^M tk [sa pircacaa- kI pRYzBaUima tOyaar kI jaa caukI hO, [sasao Aagao baZnao sao phlao ek savaala Aapsao. Aapko Gar mao sabasao AiQak kaOna raota hO ? maa^M, ipta, Baa[- yaa bahna. navajaat vaga- kao [sa pircacaa- sao baahr rKa gayaa hO.saamaanyat: Aapmao sao AiQakaMSa phlao ivaklp ka cayana kroMgao. maa^M yah saca hO ik sabasao AiQak maa^M raotI hO. prMtu @yaa maa^M kmajaaor haotI hO nahIM .....ibalkula nahIM. yah ivacaar kovala maoro hI nahI hO, Aiptu [-Svar BaI maoro ivacaarao sao sahmat hO. tBaI tao ]sanao BaI ]na piva~ naaO mahInaao kI ijammaodarI maa^M kao saaOMpI, @ yaaoMik vah jaanata qaI ik ]sakI sabasao hsaIna, sabasao majabaUt AaOr ijammaodar kRit Agar kao[- hO tao vaao maa^M hO. @yaa Aap jaanato hO jaba hmaaro idla pr dd- ka baaoJa bahut AiQak baZ jaata hO tao ]sao kma krnao, hma maa^M kI SarNa
mao jaato hO. ]nako Aasa^MU hmaaro idla ko rasto AaK^Mao ko saharo hmaarI plakao kao BaIgaaotI hO, caohro kao nama banaatI hO AaOr kBaI kBaI ija*vaa ka spSa- kr ek K{I yaad ka AnauBava kratI hO. khto hO yao Aa^MKoM hmaaro idla kI iKDkI hO AaOr Aa^MKao mao Aa^MsaU [sa baat ka p`tIk hO ik hmaaro pasa BaI ek idla hO. [sa baat ka nahI ik hma kmajaaor hO. hma kmajaaor nahI hO. maOM kmajaaor nahI h^MU AaOr hr raonao vaalao kmajaaor nahI haoto. AiBaYaok kumaar
idla sao AasamaaM^ kao CuAa krta hU^M hr va@t toro #vaabaaoM mao Kaoyaa krta hU^M. k,sama Kuda kI saca khta hU^M jaba BaI fja` va Asa` kI namaaja pZ,ta hU^M tao torI KuiSayaaoM kI duAa krta hU^M. saaomabaIr Kana mauskrahToM ]na haoMzao pr kBaI kma naa hao. Aa^MsauAaoM sao ]nakI Aa^MKo nama naa hao.. hr pla hao KuSagavaar ]naka. gama ]nako kBaI BaI hmadma naa hao.. hr maaoD pr KuiSayaaoM kI bahar hao. hr camana mao fUlaao kI ktar hao.. Aasamaa^M mao baadla eosao iGaro. jaOsao gaa rho maoGa malhar hao.. AiBaYaok kumaar
51 Avant Garde
Living a thousand deaths dying a thousand lives
T
here were days of reproach, of bitterness towards Him. They said He never played foul. They said He was the ultimate supremacy. They said He blessed his children. They said He didn’t differentiate between the rich and the poor...that all were His children. What an irony!! He was the one who created the differences. I was born poor (in fact poor would be a humble word, the extent of my bareness is beyond the scope of words) and He was the one who gave life to the rich, the affluent and the freedom to proclaim themselves as the superior beings. I have always been the caterpillar, locked up in a cocoon, invisible and of no consequence to the world. And the rich, the butterfly, spread their wings and enjoying the colours of the world. What an irony O’ lord! Caterpillars are the ones destined to become this beautiful winged creation. As I sit outside this bungalow, scrounging every passerby for a penny or two, I wonder if there would be a day when my cocoon would burst and I too would enjoy life, like those inside this bungalow. Funny, how a
presence. I have no idea, why? Maybe to ward off every evil eye which admires this castle. The princess of this castle is the one who has reinforced my belief in Him. They say He is pure...I agree...because I haven’t seen anyone as pious as her. I see her as an angel sent by Him. I see her every morning, peeping through her glass window, to make sure if I have a penny in my hand or if someone has been kind enough to drop a loaf of bread. I have no idea of what makes her heart bleed, why her eyes gleam with sorrow, with anticipation and sometimes with an almost doused flicker of hope. And yet when the motorcar drives away, I wonder what makes her stealthily creep out of this mansion to drop food into my bowl. And as she feeds my aching stomach, I see the ache in her eyes. So engulfing is her pain, that I close my eyes and submit myself to Him, not for my liberation but hers. I forget all the grudges I bear towards Him. All I long for....is her happiness. Today, I finally thank god as I see the mansion decked up with fancy lights and flowers. I am relieved that the day has finally come when my angel would get her share of happiness. I sit down imagining her smile that
mere assembly of bricks, differentiates me from its inhabitants. From months of observation, I have come to know a lot about the people who grace this mansion. I must say, they are a decent lot, for never have they objected to my disgraceful
would put a thousand stars to shame.I am pained too. In fact ‘pained’ would be an understatement. I am wretched, agonised with the mere thought of her leaving this mansion, of not getting to see her stealthy gaze wandering towards me. It smoulders me to ashes...but then I think of not having to see the pain in her eyes. God had finally been fair to my angel. Today is her wedding day. Oh! How badly I wish god granted me my funeral the next day, for I could die, but die in peace. If wishes were horses, even beggars would ride. I try to dilute my pain by fantasizing her hand in mine and as I visualise a delicate and intricately carved hand in a rough, rugged and course skeleton of mine, I shake
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Avant Garde
Little Things In Life away the frightening thought. But even this thought cannot keep me from wandering around the wedding hall, a few steps from the house. This time I advance towards her to give my only belonging. A black thread, I believe, that has been around my wrist ever since I have opened my eyes. I want her to grace the thread by putting it across her wrist for it carries the love and wishes of a man who has been deprived of the same. Entering the premises was the biggest challenge I could anticipate. But god, for the first time ever, seemed to be by my side. Her father wanted to feed the beggars the first serving of the food, for he wanted the entire world to wish his daughter a blissful life. My aching heart knows, no one could have wished merrier. As I tasted the food, I saw beauty in its heavenly form. A car dropped the bride in the adjacent outhouse. Her father rushed to ensure her daughter’s comfort and I stealthily crept to the rear of the outhouse and was elated to find a backdoor. Now began the ardent task of waiting. I waited, anticipating every rush of footsteps, waiting for time to pause so that I could live my moments. The footsteps have now gone silent. I prepare myself to make a move. And as I stand up, I hear muted shrieks. Bewildered, I enter. Some strange force pushes me and I hear a set of footsteps exit the dark room.
My trembling hands search for a light switch but I find none. As I wander into the room, my heart pounding in my stomach. My feet feel something lying on the ground. A void suddenly fills me over as I feel the bangles, my hands touch a liquid and the moment I realise where I am, the lights are put on. I see my angel looking at
me, dying and the only word that escapes her mouth is “why?” Her father frozen beside the switchboard, as if time had really come to a standstill..And as I look at my bloodstained hands I realise the question that my angel had on her lips and as the sudden realisation dawns my urge to live dies forever. ...And what follows...is something I fail to recollect...my memory is washed...all I can recollect is a pair of eyes...brimming with smashed hopes, wounded desires, injured pride...The eyes of an angel...the eyes full of reproach...eyes questioning a beggars intentions...eyes pleading for an answer...from a stranger...from a lover.... I am locked in a dungeon today. A stranger visits me every day. He says I have injured his pride. No one understands. How am I to face god? How will I face my angel whose clothes were ripped apart...with my hands holding the tattered pieces... I sit in a dark corner, living a thousand deaths, dying a thousand lives. There was a day I was proud of myself. Today, the pride has vanished...as if into thin air, I have come to question my instincts, my intentions.I have no idea what happened...it’s all so faint...all so blur... ....only thing that’s remarkably clear is her eyes....my blood stained hands...
By Ravleen Kaur
53 Avant Garde
When Being Restless Counts If you find yourself a non-conformist, ungratified with things around you, rebellious to the notion of monotony and have an underlying passion to innovate, think and create, chances are that you are more of an entrepreneur rather than a social misfit as the plebeian boundaries of prejudice would require one to comprehend. American Entrepreneur and Apple Founder couldn’t have been more erudite when he summed up entrepreneurship as : “Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t let the noise of other’s opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. Everything else is secondary. “ Entrepreneurship is driven by the passion that enables one to swim against the current and come up with fresh new ideas that can catapult aspirations to realization. Entrepreneurship has always been at the forefront of the progress of human mankind and can be more appropriately thought of as economic “gardening” rather than “hunting” (industrial recruiting). Think of it as tending to the seedbed in one’s own backyard as opposed to going out to hunt that one trophy animal. Some surveys show that most of the entrepreneurs are aged between 45 to 60 years barring the few benefactors of the Dot-com revolution. Which means that the young don’t stand a chance. Well, here is some food for thought. Another survey provides a startling fact that 33% of the entrepreneurial start-ups fail in the first years. Yes, surveys are always misleading as is the common notion but when looking at the two statistics together one can safely say that youngsters are missing the queue here. So if the largest entrepreneurial age segment is Avant Garde over 45 years old
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and if one-third of all entrepreneurs fail in the first two years, why aren’t younger people reading between the lines and following the blueprint for success. The answer is simple, that most of us are bridled by the apprehensions within. Also most of us don’t know what all is needed and are lured by the prospects of job securities, the one aspect Indian families never fail to accentuate. That is true in some way because having just the restlessness and the desire are not the only ingredients. They have to be backed by confidence, courage, clarity and above all smartness. Going hand in hand with it should be a strong value of perseverance and competitiveness. One should also realize that a real entrepreneur is one that does not have a safety net beneath him, a tight rope to walk on and numerous balls to juggle all at the same instant. The steadier and earlier you reach the other end coupled with the elegance and the willpower the better are the chances of you catching the entrepreneurial bandwagon. And once you do there is no looking back. Why ? Because, entrepreneurship is important. Firstly it furthers innovation to find new solutions to existing and emerging demands. Secondly it offers far greater opportunities for wealth creation for self and the society than anything else, coupled with bountiful of independence, flexibility and self-fulfilment. Added to that satisfaction of having large financial rewards and the vision to having a long lasting mark. Simply the sky is the limit for a motivated entrepreneur. In a guest lecture conducted by the Entrepreneurship Development Cell (EDC) here in Thapar, Mr. Sameer Guglani- a serial entrepreneur and Thapar Alumnus very adeptly remarked that as an entrepreneur one learns to do everything, from interior decoration of one’s office to
Little Things In Life making the marketing strategy, to recruiting people and to his dismay firing people at times too. What he wanted to say is that being an entrepreneur one faces a myriad of internal and external challenges that leads to a wholesome development of business acumen and one’s personality. On a lighter note he stated that one gets to be the CEO of his own company and gets to mingle with the CEOs of other companies at such a young age. Connections , he explained , are very important for the sustenance of an entrepreneur. The entrepreneurial attitude goes a long way as well. One’s ability to enterprise is widely appreciated in all spheres of the corporate world. Depending on the job, many employers will want their employees to demonstrate at least some entrepreneurial skills. Employees who are well motivated, thinking ahead, seeing new opportunity s can all help to provide a business with a competitive edge and thus remain profitable in the market place. Successful entrepreneurs are able to effectively wear multiple hats and shift from role to role as neces-
sary. They surely won’t be an expert in everything, but they know how to find talent and opportunities around them and leverage them in the best possible way to boost their own performance as well as free themselves up to pursue other endeavours as well. While not all may be cut out for the entrepreneurial lifestyle, for those that are, it can be extremely rewarding .It will, however, take discipline and a great deal of self-control. At the end one has to realize that the world is an oyster waiting for them to seek and open. Entrepreneurship has no magic formula and it doesn’t guarantee success. But for the ones, who can think beyond, take chances and work hard for their goals, can definitely achieve them, no matter high they may be. Remember, if you want to take your boat well into the sea of success, get ready to do and dare !
By Rahul Agarwal President EDC
Love is in the Air The day went fine Sun didn’t shine As I was feeling lonely I got from my bed Found my throat red The syrup too didnt do any good nor was it tasty Cupid again struck As i was hit by truck I was conscious but still dazed Coudnt speak who was he Does he too like me?? This thought made a gaze Love exist in stories It ain’t realistic But i don’t wanna let it go off my memories Or i’ll b nostalgic When its there Your mind is in the air You feel like a free bird
The experience is so heavenly Guys too stop being manly It makes ur head swirl and swirl If you are in the class You’ll wonder for a chance If you get to talk Will it be a mock? From sensible to confused You’ll be always amused Without a reason you will smile At times laugh for a while Become crazy to infinity Even if you are witty This is not less than a disease For one’s thinking would obviously cease Then you’ll say that you are addicted to this drug Your class performance will rug But then too you want to continue This craziness won’t help you
Every thought of his will make you fly Then you’ll hide your face to blush and shy Then one day clock ringed The mind thought whats this zing Then I started my day with a zeal Which was brand new and sheen lovely was the thought which made me independent Else i would have lost a way to vent Sun had shined as I looked up the day Friends were happy and celebration was gay Sittting in the dark still I think Then I stop myself by a wink!!
By Atika Aggarwal
Avant Garde
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Messing with the Human Mind Here at Avant Garde we understand the wisdom of our readership. Your intellect sets you apart from the rest of the population, and we are lucky to have you hold our magazine in your hands. As someone of exceptional judgment and readership taste, we know you will be interested in subscribing to our exclusive online material, appropriate for only the most intelligent of the human species, the elite of the elite, and available to you for only 100 rupees /month. Smell something fishy? Someone’s trying to flatter you into subscribing to their product? Don’t be. Most people take pride in their ability to distinguish flattery accompanied with obvious ulterior motives from those which are genuine and sincere. But then, what if this really works? What if you could really use flattery to influence people’s judgement inspite of them being consciously aware of your motive, such as –“Oh thank you sir, your excellent lecture on the subject has widened my horizons and redefined my whole understanding of the universe “or “Sweetheart, I’ve met more beautiful girls but I haven’t come across anyone as charming and smart as you”
56 Avant Garde
The stunning fact is that flattery does mess up with the human decision making capability, and not just of those losers who can’t differentiate between the sincere and the insincere, but also of those who can clearly see beyond the sweet honey drop words. A study published in the Journal of Marketing Research pointed out some interesting stuff. Participants in the study were asked to highlight the merits of a new department store based on its advertisement. The ad lavishly praised the readers for their impeccable sense of style and knowledge of fashion. Though the participants clearly termed the ad as having an ulterior motive of making the reader purchase their product, however the question arose- was it possible that the participants might subconsciously develop a positive association with the product based on the flattery? Would this mean that even those who are wise to cunning advertisements might still end up at the cash counter with bags full of new clothes and a credit card in hand ? The study showed that a positive association was indeed established no matter how smart you may be over the rest of the population. The underlying cause was simple – people’s simple desire to feel good about themselves. Each year hundreds of path breaking studies are carried out all over the world which challenge ,test and redefine our understanding of human psychological behaviour, individually or in a social group both at conscious and sub conscious level. In the bestselling book “Blink”, Malcolm Gladwell explains how an experiment proved that it was possible to determine the future of a young couple’s marriage to a good degree of accuracy simply by observing a 15 minute conversation between the husband and wife. In the experiment, the couple were asked to start talking on any topic that they would usually do in their daily
life. Sensors and electrodes were connected to both the individuals so as to know when the heart beat had increased or the temperature of the body was changing. In one such conversation the wife spoke about the new dog that she had acquired as a pet. As the conversation progressed the husband expressed his displeasure with the new family member, albeit mildly. Evidently the couple had differences over keeping a pet. To any ordinary onlooker the conversation would seem like any normal couple talk. However in the experiment, the researchers divided the 15 minutes into 15x60 = 900 frames. They then studied the facial expression and the tone of the voice of both husband and wife. Each frame was then allotted a “quality”. Twenty such “qualities” were used in the experiment, the prominent ones being – defensiveness, stonewalling, criticism and contempt. To their amazement, the researchers found that the future of the marriage was directly proportional to the ‘quality’ which appeared most frequently in the 900 frames. Even amongst these qualities it was “contempt” that was regarded as the most dangerous “quality” for a successful marriage. For most of us distinguishing criticism from contempt would be impossible, but to the trained eye as in the experiment, researchers know from experience when a smile is to be taken as loving and when as sarcastic. With half of all first marriages ending in divorce in the U.S, two researchers, Editor in chief of the Scientific American- Dr.Mariette Christina and Robert Epstein set out to investigate whether it is possible to make two humans come close together i.e. fall and stay in love? A presentation was held in an auditorium in lower Manhattan, all the participants being curious of the experiment. Four random volunteers were called onto the stage and paired off into couples, none of them having met the other ever before. They were then asked to give a score from 1 to 10 to their respective partners (1 being low and 10 being high) for each of the following questions; I quote the exact lines – (a) how much they “liked” each other ( b) how much they “loved” each other (c) how close they felt to each
Little Things In Life
other and (d) how attracted they were to each other The
participants
were
then asked to perform a simple exercise. Each individual had to look deeply into their partner’s eyes for 2 minutes (the researchers termed this exercise – Soul Gazing).Initially the participants found this humorous, but after a brief period they under took the task seriously. Then the numbers were asked again for the questions listed above – liking, loving, closeness and attraction. To the amazement of the researchers, the numbers had gone up for all the four people. Somehow the simple task of gazing into each other’s eyes had raised the level of intimacy between the couples. Numerous studies in past few decades have revealed interesting facts regarding behaviour that can increase the emotional quotient between two people ,some of the most intriguing ones being – people tend to emotionally bond when they are in frightening situations together , people feel closer when they try out new things collectively . Vulnerability also acts a catalyst in intensifying one’s feeling for another. If you see someone vulnerable, insecure, you are likely to feel protective of them. On the other hand, if you are vulnerable yourself and someone comes along to comfort and protect you, you will tend to feel closer to that person. And if both the people feel vulnerable simultaneously, coalescence of two souls is inevitable. Our conventional and orthodox understanding of the human mind is being challenged every day. With increasing scientific evidence that the thought and decision making process of an individual can be manipulated, it remains to be seen how long it will be before the human brain finally unveils all its well guarded secrets.
By Harsh Maithani
57 Avant Garde
The Man Who Knew.. And how the world called upon him in times of economic distress. by rahul agarwal
A
n art lover pursuing mathematics at King’s a monetary economy people college in the picturesque city of Cambridge, can try to accumulate cash in the primitive years of the Twentieth cen- rather than real goods. And when everyone is trying to tury , never would have imagined that he would play accumulate cash at the same time, which is what hapmore than a pivotal role in saving the modern world pened worldwide after the collapse of Lehman Brothand pulling it out of its deepest abyss. Nor would he ers, the result is an end to demand, which produces a have ever contemplated that his name would be on severe recession. the lips of every notable economist and world leader The basic flaw in classical approach to economics , as nearly a hundred years later. When he said the famous pointed by Keynes was that this neglected the emowords “Ideas shape the course of history”, little did he tion or affect which influences human behaviour and know that it were his ideas which would indeed make can be measured in terms of consumer confidence. history. That man was none other This he termed as “animal spirits” and than John Maynard Keynes , widely thus proposed that there is a lot unreputed as the father of macroecoIdeas shape the certainty in the world – uncertainty nomics. course of history that cannot be reduced to statistical What Keynes did in Economics can probabilities. According to him the be very well be analogous to what Einstein did in the traditional divide between macroeconomics and mifield of Modern Physics. Where Einstein’s theory of rel- cro economics which is based on whether one focuses ativity compelled physicists to suddenly look into an on individual markets or on the overall economy is all entirely different direction to find enigmatic answers. wrong. In fact the two are like massive tectonic plates Which they are still finding, to this day. Keynes revolu- which should never collide. In this way macroeconomtionized the way economists used to think about mac- ics should be defined as the field that studies those arroeconomics with theories that still make fodder for eas of economic life in which irreducible uncertainty, thought in the annals of famous economists world uncertainty that cannot be tamed with statistics, domover. inate. Keynes spent much of his life deeply focused What he did was to provide the world with a different upon, even obsessed with, the question of how one perspective from Classical Economics which till that acts in the face of uncertainty. time was loosely based on the Say’s law that “supply creates demand” or in other words that market has a And the solution to this, according to him, is a greater self heeling power. This is based in the thought that role of the government through its policies to crewhatever income earned is automatically spent and ate balance and stability. The Keynesian school of that all that matters is aggregate de- economics thus gives more importance on the fiscal mand and aggregate supply. Keynes policy and how the government can stimulate the agshowed, however, that Say’s Law isn’t gregate demand and crawl out of recessionary phase. For eg: investing more in infrastructure and thus Avant Garde true, because in
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Little Things In Life creating more demand in the market with the advent of more avenues being available. To sum up Keynes was a strong believer in the role of the government for the greater good and advocated government intervention in defining the economic contours of the state as well as the world. The Keynesian revolution was brought by the publication of the magnum opus- The General Theory of Employment, Interest and Money, which Keynes innovatively wrote in prose form rather than citing mathematical information and thus paved for a new form of thinking. The book was written during the Great Depression , a time when the world was grasped in the rudimentary arms of classical economics. The book was like a breath of fresh air and opened up many possibilities. Following the outbreak of the World War-II almost all western economies adopted the Keynesian philosophy and it remained a major influence till 1970’s. The greatest criticism which this theory faced and which ultimately resulted in its non-acceptance was in the 1970’s when ‘stagflation’ happened which means high inflation accompanied with high levels of unemployment. Stagflation was believed to have taken place due to inappropriate macroeconomic policies triggered by the sudden increase of oil price rise. And this fuelled the emergence and acceptance of a diametrically opposite school of people called the Monetarists led by Milton Friedman. They targeted the only flaw in Keynesian economics– inflation and vouched for minimal government intervention and more of economic liberalism. They advocated that Keynesian theories act more like big chains of steel, hindering economic progress. Thus began an
era of free market and declining financial regulation. This decline, started in 1970’s due to the Monetarist movement , showed its worst form in 2007-08 with the breakdown of ‘goliath’ like banks and brought in a phase dreaded most by Keynes himself. Economic liberalism though had a gleaming appearance but was hollow from within as it led to dubious practices of shadow banking and thus plagued the markets and the banking sector with mistrust and enormous fiscal deficit. And thus we saw massive bailouts by the governments of all the leading countries of the world starting with the USA . The world realized its mistake and immediately fell back on the ideas of the great man . The intervention in fact was justified by the leaders and the economists of the world as being based on the Keynesian school of thought. Drowning in the sea of financial mess the world leaders once again took refuge in the Keynesian boat of ideals. This simply exemplifies the brilliance of the man .The Times magazine did the obvious when it included him in the list of 100 most influential persons of the twentieth century. Few can contest that as he still drives enormous influence over world affairs that seeps into our day to day lives. He once famously said “It is better to be roughly right than precisely wrong”. But it would be definitely fitting to say that you were precisely right Mr. Keynes, precisely right.
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My Experiments with Truth -- A Classroom session.
- APOORVA SAXENA
tual expression and act as if they are following every word trying to remain in his good books. They pay the price when incomprehensible questions are fired at them. The back benchers stick to their careless attitude, hardly bothering with the very existence of the lecturer. The President of the Backbenchers Association takes I am yet to find out what goes in the class. Turning black- the lead (that is, if he is present in class in the first place) board to the back benchers we can perceive the full in entertaining the class with his usual pranks. The stueffects of the professor’s monotonous tone. Everyone dents are much more interested in his antics than what wants to leave the class fifteen minutes early even after is going on at the front of the class. Many heads turn coming to class some ten odd minutes late. I would pre- back and smiles are exchanged between different corfer to remain in my dreamland rather than come back to ners of the classroom. the tiresome monologue of the professor. The same old dull lesson being taught in class and the now familiar Scene 3 response of the bored disinterested class. No one even The Professor is suddenly aware of the disturbance in bothers to greet the teacher – they just make a cursory class. He shouts at the usual suspects, closely followed attempt at standing up when he enters the class room. by ample of questions fired them.
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Scene 1The teacher enters the classroom and without pausing to say a word, starts off with his usual routine on the blackboard.
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Scene 2The teacher turns around and lectures on the topic.
Poor chaps! They never tried to interrupt his lecture. They were more than willing to leave him and his lecture alone and hoped that he would be kind enough to The majority of the class is unaware of even the name reciprocate. According to them, there is nothing wrong of the chapter being taught (Sir, you could at least write in class proceedings moving along two separate lines. the name of the chapter on the blackboard!). Half the On further examination, they quote Robert Frost to exclass stares blankly at the teacher totally plain their philosophy – completely unable to comprehend a word he is saying. The other half as- “Two roads diverged in a yellow wood sumes intellecAvant Garde And I took the one less traveled by. ”
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(Simple translation WE DON’T WANT TO STUDY!) Of course, they win the sympathy of the entire class. After all, they managed to waste a few minutes of the lecture hour (Less class time = More fun: Thapar Equation). The affair closes with few arguments and soft pleading on both sides. The teacher realizes (rather late) that he is wasting his lecture hour, ends his reprimand then and there and resumes teaching.
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Scene 4 A hand rises from the crowd and this time around, the roles are reversed as a student rises to ask the teacher a question.
Little Things In Life
intend to take attendance, he is expected to inform the students well in advance so that they do not commit the cardinal sin of turning up for his class. As teachers are well aware, free attendance can transform a populous class into a desolate land. During attendance the students’ fun and the lecturer’s wrath vie with each other as usual, with the latter always proving helpless. Soon afterwards the teacher is besieged by students asking for hand written notes and important questions for the exams. As a result some of the saner students manage to get their hands on the students’ equivalent of the philosopher’s stone i.e. the necessary material for the exam. As for the rest….well never mind! The class is over and for the moment ‘All well that ends well’.
This is what is called pandemonium! Sir, with profound regret I have to inform you that a game of Truth AND SO ON TO THE NEXT CLASS WHERE MONOTONY and Dare is probably in progress in class and the victim AND REPETITION PREVAILS.. would have been made to ask the teacher some nonsensical question There is very little chance that the student is trying to clarify a genuine doubt. So do not be under the illusion that at least someone is following My legs are aching , unable to bear my weight. what you are teaching ! Confusion prevails all around as So is this system , unable to bear our country great. the professor does not understand the question propMy leg tissues are tearing me apart, erly and nor does the student understand a word of the Hinting that my bad time is going to start. answer (Not very surprising because he asked the quesSo are the leaders of this nation, tion only for the heck of it!).This unfortunate situation is Ignoring the country’s interests is their fashion. cause for great hilarity to the rest of the class. Unable to stand, i want to fall... And here communalism is cutting INDIA into parts Scene 5 – quite small. The Professor winds up the class and takes attendance. But i know its my determination that will pick me,
PAIN
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A sigh of relief goes up from each student. It’s as if the lecture session is the Matrix and Neo (the students) has been dodging the bullets (questions) during the battle (class). The professors never forget to take the attendance because that is the only reason why students sacrifice their morning sleep and come for classes (Students falling short of 75% attendance will be gifted “F grade”: Thapar prospectus). Of course, if the professor does not
And its we the youth that will grow the sapling of vision 2020 into a tree.
Nishant Lakhanpal
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“You read the Bible Brett? Well there’s this passage I got memorized. Sort of fits the occasion. Ezekiel 25:17 The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the iniquities of the selfish and tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he who, in the name of charity and goodwill shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness, for he is truly his brother’s keeper and finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know my name is the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon thee.” – The exact words of Jules Winnfield in the movie Pulp Fiction (1994) before he unloads a whole 9mm magazine into Brett. Samuel L Jackson’s character from this movie as Jules Winnfield is ranked second in the ‘coolest movie characters of all time’ poll by the Empire Magazine, UK. This was a movie which has been called a path-breaking film – it got critical acclaim all over. When I first saw the movie, the only thing that stuck with me was that line – a rather cool thing to say to a man you’re about to kill. Moviemakers and writers sure have a way with words – writing dialogues like these that catch our fancy and linger on in our minds for a long time. But sometimes – most of the time, there’s more to such fancy lines that we initially realize…we remember the line word-toword and the cool way in which the actor delivers it – but more often than not, we miss the soul of the idea behind those words. That character of Jules from the movie narrates those words with the greatest conviction every time before he shoots someone. To him, he is indeed the agent laying down the lord’s vengeance upon evil. From his perspective, that is the truth. Later in the movie, some events transpire that make him think again – and he realizes maybe he is the tyranny of evil men, maybe he’s not the shepherd – his brothers’ keeper. But up until that point, he was convinced he wasn’t in the wrong. Throughout history we have met such ‘righteous’ men. Most have died but their legends live on amongst us – legends written by their deeds, whether right or wrong is questionable at best. They live through their ideologies that they created which have made a place in our minds and thoughts; the veracity of those ideologies too is equally questionable. Are there any absolutes that could prove the ‘righteousness’ of people like Mahatma Gandhi and Martin Luther King or could disprove that of those who have been incriminated in the pages of the history forever. Hitler’s authoritarian Nazi and Fascist views have been questioned all over. In better words they have not only been questioned but condemned strongly all over. There are more deaths on his hands than there ever were on somebody before his time. But if one happens to read his book, Mein Kampf, one might see how he was convinced that he was indeed fighting a righteous war – he was that convinced with his beliefs. In a recent movie by Quentin Tarantino, Inglorious Basterds, a colonel of the SS division of the German Army brings forward an analogy whereby he shows the actions and beliefs of The Fuhrer in a different light – in general, people have a natural dislike for rats and other rodents. But somehow, the cute little squirrels are spared the same dislike – even though they too, are in fact, rodents. Try real hard and you may come up with a logical reason for this difference. Rats and squirrels – both rodents, people hate and kill some while they admire the others. Jews and non Jews – both humans, the Nazis hated and killed some…with reasons about as clear as the previous one. The wars waged by the Americans over the past few decades are about as justified as the war by the Nazis. Civilians, including women and children, were set on fire with napalm during the Vietnam War by the Americans
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Avant Garde
Little Things In Life – that qualifies as about as humane as the Nazis’ treatment of the Jews. Yet somehow, their reputation is not even remotely similar to that of the Nazis. The hard truth is, history is written by the victor – and had the result of the Second World War been different, the Nazi views might well have been the popular ones today. Mahatma Gandhi, the ‘father of our nation’, rose to fame by influencing the masses by a never before heard methodology of fighting a war – not fighting at all. A fight without weapons. A fight with silent determination and courage. A fight against the iniquities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. He was well loved, heard and followed by the country for 3 decades. But many military experts and historians agree that had the revolt of 1857 gone according to plan, the nation would have been freed ninety years earlier. It is also argued that had the huge number of followers of Gandhi supported the ways of Bhagat Singh and Chandrasekhar Azad, independence would have been won much earlier than 1947 and with a significantly less loss of life – and this would have happened before the seeds for the division of the nation could be sown, saving the many lives lost during the violent partition of the nation – lost lives which may be attributed the ways of the Mahatma. Was Nathuram Godse, the man who shot Gandhi evil? There were many who used to swear that they would kill him if they had to. But one man did it and went down in the history books as an assassin. He had been a revolutionary for the country and had worked just as hard to attain the ends that the Mahatma had also desired. His status as a freedom-fighter was well established before his final act. And all that the history books of our curriculum have done is to taint him as an assassin over a conflict of ideologies. People say it wasn’t merely a conflict of ideologies but an action of violence against a defenseless and innocent man. Isn’t lack of action, when required, equally responsible for a crime? If so then Gandhi was guilty of a crime against millions who died because the one holding the sword gave two hoots to the ‘show the other cheek’ philosophy, before killing them. But there is no law that could incriminate a person on these grounds. There are no absolutes to decide upon the righteousness of Gandhi or Godse. But everyone remembers the one who held the gun as evil. Looking back – there seems to be a stark question that has remained unanswered – what could be the measure of a person’s righteousness. Hitler was a decorated war hero who went to Jail when an attempted coup at the government in 1923 failed; but was pardoned and released within a year. His German nationalism, anti-Semitism, anti-capitalism, and anti-communism views gained him much support. How could we comment on his totalitarianism when we have seen socialism failing miserably in USSR? The regime under Stalin in USSR has been termed by historians as a Revolution Gone Wrong. It remains a mystery as to what can lead a man to have beliefs as radical and different as those of Hitler or Gandhi, and what can lead a man to have such concrete convictions about the righteous path. To quote Jules again: “But that shit ain’t the truth. The truth is you’re the weak”. And so is the story of the world – what we know about who was the righteous, who was the shepherd and who was evil in history is almost always governed by who was the strong – because history is written by the victor.
Note: Ezekiel 25:17 as stated in the movie Pulp Fiction is not the exact passage as it is in The Bible and the original does not in any way suggest the killing of people in the Lord’s name.
Avant Garde
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The Comic Corner Dilbert
Credits Dr.Maneek Kumar President , Literary Society
Editors in Chief Harsh Maithani Rahul Agarwal
The Graphics Editor Zubin Arora
The Creative Arts Editor Samarth Gulati
Cover Page Design
Moderately Confused
Sahil Khanna
Other Art Contributions by Degant Puri Kartik Jhanwar
Editor (Hindi) Rajat Kumar
Editing Team Simar Walia Aastha Channa Shalini Chhabra
Calvin and Hobbes
Headquarters D-212 and B-225 A Hostel Thapar University Patiala Š Universal press Sydnicate
TOaSt tO tHE LItERaRY SOCIEtY What used to be a niche community only some years back, is now expanding and showing new horizons to students as it takes them in its fold. The intellectual highway of the campus has never been so busy with a plethora of speakers,writers,poets,actors and designers working in cohesion to reach the pinnacle of creativity and widen the realm of the unthinkable. The LITSOC has evolved to that level where all the societies under its banner are ascending to greater heights with such fervour never seen before. These are signs of good times and sky high expectations are more than justified. The grey cells couldnt have been more grey and LITSOC takes pride in this fact. We have absolutely no qualms when it comes to swagger. Its because we dare, we deliver, we inspire.