Shreya isit print1

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Celebrating Pongal at Tanjavur Pg

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Internship Experience Pg

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2.0

September 2013

Issue One

Contents 9 of a Kind

A Sneek-Peek of the crazy bunch in Foundation-2013.

Pink Boots

Story of a colourful toy- an autobiogaphy.

A Green Retreat

Nature,Hills, Green and 15 minds sharing knowledge.

It’s Manga!

Read to bring alive Japan and its art while unfolding a story!

Behind the Wheel A Walk in the streets of Thrishur,an unexpected discovery and a treasured learning.

Unwind

Jokes, Comic Strips for the funny bone

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Editor Talks Hi Folks, So Isit is back again after a long hibernation!Working on the magazine was a lot of fun. The last three months were quite intresting and heres’ a brief update.

With a host of visiting faculties coming to teach the college was lively. Also, the ID2 had their own light exhibition, for the first time ever, an ID exhibition!

The foundation have settled down, the usual “first Jury” blues are settling in and the seniors are busy giving advice. Amidst all this work, there came the cultural activities and the games. Dressing up, clicking pictures, jerserys, cheering, that sums it up.

I hope you guys enjoy reading Isit 2.0 .

This wouldn’t have quite turned out like this without the contributions and help of a bunch of people.

A big thank you to these guys : Matangi,Satwika and “Moorie” for the illustrations and the poem, Keerthana for the illustrations on the cover pages, Mekha for her articles,Digant, Abdul,Joshmin, Shubham and Niladri for letting me include their concept sketches; and also everyone whose suggestions have helped this magazine. Also a grateful thank you to Menon Sir.

Rhymes and Whines

9 of a Kind Written by: Aditi “Moorie”

Illustration : Matangi V

I must confess A walk in my class Will have you witness A stupendous mess A girl who says life’s nothing without laughter lived happily ever after Say hi to the corner of her eye, she looks at you with an exasperated sigh That boy over by the corner looks cool Until you realize he’s asleep and drools.

Pat a cake, Pat a cake baker’s man, The boy who loves cooking is a retarded sham

The kid with parallel lines for a face Works at a glacial pace.

This skinny girl loves her phone to bits, Her gargantuan forehead houses her wits The Da Vinci of our class struts past you In her flowing locks, nests birds and lot things too.

There,the enlightened one with a lost expression Awaits eagerly for an alien invasion The bounce in her step has you in splits, Her laughter is contagious, it’ll lead you to fits.

Escape is what’s on your mind Don’t leave anything behind.

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Fable Fever

Pink Boots -Shreya Padmasola

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hen I was small…Well I am pretty

there in an adult Human’s black bag with the

darn sure I can hear someone

other green toads waiting to meet our young

guffaw at that and probably think

friends. I regularly came out to say a “Hi” to

“Was? Still is small; small and cute.” Everyone

the young audience but was disappointed by

has fond memories of their childhood and

a small shriek or a push or jeer. Just when I

so do I. In fact, those times were the best,

was about to give up hope on finding a new

it really seemed like I was doing what I

home, a little girl with rather big eyes, like

was really born to do, enveloped in sheer

mine, and really short hair burst out with joy

innocence and enjoying every moment of life.

looking at me and for the first time I didn’t

Yes, I am small; I have a blue body, just a little

scare a young human. I was adopted by this

bigger than the size of an average human

one year old human baby called Shreya. I was

hand, with green face and brown-soft-hairy

the star in this little girl’s house, I made new

hands that reach up to my unusually large

friends like the panda with a distorted nose,

but really hip pink boots. My green face, well

the brown dog, the pup from Zimbabwe ,a

what can I say about my cute toad face, it’s

tiny teddy who always wore a green back-

good and I always peer through my tuft of

pack and a pair of crumpled foreign hand

brown hair. I really haven’t changed physically

puppets! I felt so loved with them, we were

but I knew I was growing old because of a

such a varied group and understood each

lot of other things like those tiny hands that

other for who we were, back then little did I

cuddled me gradually became huge. Growing

know that we guys would go such a long way.

old made me realise a lot of things and here I

Shreya loved me dearly except she always

am sharing with you, my story, a toy’s story!

had a special place for the panda.

I came out blue, green and pink, I still feel

I made it to a picture one day; the camera’s

like I was an accident, otherwise why would

flash nearly blinded me!!The baby grew up

they put together such an outrageous colour

fast, on her fifth birthday she got a bicycle; it

combination especially if they were going to

was purple in colour with a little carriage at

send me to a small human. However, I was

the back and was called Cinderella. She was

Fable Fever “Growing old made me realise a lot of things and here I am sharing with you, my story, a toy’s story!” quite a contrast to Shreya’s character and I

frame these questions a hand reached in and

watched how Shreya fell in love with it, Shreya

LO, Shreya was pulling us all out. Wow, she

even buckled us up so we won’t fall off and

seemed so grown up, and as she hugged me

hurt ourselves. The camera did its job again

tight with her huge hands, she said “Monkey,

*flash* . After this photo shoot she sped off

what do I do, nothing seems to be okay, ”(I

with us in the backseat and LO she sped so

really am a toad but she doesn’t seem to

fast, and for so long that when we finally

realise it.). I realized something; so that’s what

stopped, Shreya was no longer that baby . All

it is, just as we toys feel excluded, humans

the while we were sitting right there all secure

feel it too; maybe much more intensely. I have

as she passed by the primary school phases

been in and out of the wardrobe more often

and we didn’t even realise it. No, I didn’t even

and I began to like this hide-and-seek. She’d

realise how fast she was growing up when

share with me tit-bits about her life-her old

she was practicing how to tie shoe laces on

friends, new friends, fights, anxiety about her

my pink boots. But by the time I did, she was

college admissions, and annoyance at being a

in high school ,I was left far behind; I could

teenager. She played with my pink laces like

feel the buckle falling loose. Sure it did fall

before. It seemed like the little Shreya was still

loose soon, the panda, the doggies, the teddy,

alive in her.

the puppets and I found ourselves huddled

I am sitting right here in the wardrobe but

into a cloth bag. This was the worst day of

with a satisfaction and fulfilment; Indeed, I am

my life, Just as much time it took for me to

one lucky “Monkey”!

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It’s Manga!

By Saatwika K Long ago, in the dimension beyond reality , there existed a magical kingdom, that hid the secret of the Moonstone, a Magical stone that can make you immortal.

The kingdom was goverened by a beautiful princess named Sarayu.

Also living in the same kingdom, was the Earl of Darknes, An Evil Magician who desired the Moonstone. His hobby was to trouble the innocent and to plague the kingdom with Misery....

One Day,

ss! ge n nce Pri challe l ! hal y l b e ss e u r n d i e I h to a er w e you ho ev ses th one W pos st on mo

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It’s Manga!

Finall on the Fated day, the Princess set out for her final show down with the Evil Magician

The princess finally claimed her victory by piercing Earl’s foul Heart with her Golden Arrow of Justice.

And thus saving her kingdom and her people from the clutches of Evil.

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Nature-Teacher

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A storage space for Moped users by Abdul.

A Green Retreat

Away from the city, amongst sprawling hills and nature,14 minds discover.

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s a part of their course, Simple Product

whole bunch was so charged up , they began

Design, the Industrial Design-2nd year (ID

self-initiation to make the studio more lively.

2) students went to Valaparai, a nearby

The studio is more colourful now, one might

hill station in Coimbatore, Tamil Nadu. The trip

mistake it to be a communication design studio.

took the conceptualization part of the project

They also did abstract illustrations of each other

course to another level. Working in a different

and displayed them in the studio

environment and being away from the white

On asking about their experience and what they

walls of the college, relaxed the minds and

did in Valparai, the students immediately zipped

produced some decent results.

their mouths, and said there is something in

Being an outside to the calss events,I saw a lot

store for you guys, just wait for it. We are still

of changes in the work patterns ,the enthusi-

waiting eagerly for the surprise.

asm of the students and the faculty-student

Till they unveil their secret ,here are some con-

bond had strengthened. After the trip, the

cept sketches and a poem by Mekha V.

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Nature-Teacher

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An interactive storage for playschool kids by Mekha

Changing area for women labourer by Digant

The Effect -A Poem by Mekha V. The hills are so green Balanced tints and shades of the same hue.

Welcomed are all sorts of minds Happy, depressed, blank or miserable..

The clouds are soo fast the gardens so vast

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Storage for Mechanic’s tools by Niladri

Felt all the riders while solving the maze Whistles,howling, screams and shouting Yet Stayed calm the hills.

Snaps, click or shouts was just a familiar story Flattered were the hills but knew all was momentary.

Slow went the walkers, but in the admiration.

It was clear...they were just trespassers.

Still so happy the hills are cause that is their life Days,twilight,or night,werer not their routine Isn’t this a great blessing.?

So different and So special.

Storage for spices in Kitchen

by Joshmin

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Artisans’ Corner

Behind Wheel the

A walk in the streets,a discovery, an observation and a treasured learning with a potter, shares Mekha Venkatesh.

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In the lonely streets of a small town of

to pay and people from around the world

Thrissur district, Kerala lives a man who

come to meet him. Appreciation is not new for

starts his day with mud and ends it with mud,

him and yet he is as humble. Nothing can beat

creating pots,jugs,lantern, games and statues.

his patience nor his dedication or interest in

He is an inspiration but his presence mostly

what he does.

goes unnoticed behind the pile of mud. His

He is a family man and loves his family dearly.

hands are never free and never clean and his

However, I remember his wife saying “he is

life revolves around his experiments with

married to his clay and pottery first and then

mud. No technology has ever affected him, no

me”. It was a surprise for me to see his effort

development influenced him. He still manages

and the attention to details in the statues

to live life the same way his great grandfather

he makes. He is a man of less words but his

,also a potter, lived. Maybe it’s God’s grace

hands speak for him, efficient and housing

that he has made a niche in the market

all his brain’s knowledge. Everything that he

without any strain. He doesn’t have any bills

made inspired me , even my lighting design

Artisans’ Corner

“His hands are never free and never clean and his life revolves around his experiments with mud. No technology has ever affected him, no development influenced him.” ,the actual reason why I went to him. He understood my lighting concept and readily started working on it, quite contrary to what I expected. Moreover, he showed some keen interest in my project and my course of study. It was really encouraging; I could see, in his eyes, the eagerness to know how the world worked around. He didn’t seem to be interested in any big theories or explanations but the knowledge of design that he had to share with me was the experience of fifty years, and of trial and error. He hardly talked, but when he did, I was taken aback. He shared with me his life’s dharma which was only to work for oneself, eat for survival and live for work. Indulgence was not in his dictionary.

Listening to such profound thought, coming from an illiterate man, moved me.

I still remember the day I met him, quite vividly and personally, I think such craftsmen are a gift to the field of art. I have since then broadened my vision in my work and in interacting with people. Now I am back in college, and it has been months since my meeting with the potter. I wonder sitting here, how many potters are creating such marvelous works, Who will pay tribute to these creators? Will we ever?

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2.0

Isit back? isit the same? Isit? Isit?

Yes! It is. isit good? is it bad? isit intresting? isit crazy? is it happy? isit moody? isit stressed? isit funny? isit new? isit fun? isit boring? isit a change?

Whatever it is, it is welcome here.

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