Angry Kya?
20:25 - Posted by Shilpa K - 0 comments

Here’s a quick fix recipe to deal away with the blues of an overtaxed day, one that leaves you bamboozled about life with a deep feeling of emptiness inside. I’ve resorted to it time and again for it not only curbs those hunger pangs and tantalizes the taste buds but also effectively revives and teaches what life is all about or rather offers a paradigm of it from a chef’s point of view!

Let mom create magic with her secret culinary formulae presenting you with a dollop of freshly kneaded dough filled with oodles of love giving you a chance to manifest your culinary skills just like He has created us with the same basic but mystique ingredients and given us all a fair chance to make the best out of it, never caring about issues like origin or race because no matter how the dough is baked- round, oval, thin, crispy, over-baked or even chewy- it would still be a pizza base!

It’s about choosing the right toppings to make it a mouth-watering, lip-smacking, delicious, delightful food fiesta. First, you make an assortment of all the flavors of life. ‘Spicy’ for the heated conversations and for times that made your blood boil with rage; ‘Tangy’ for all the naughty pranks you loved playing as a teenager; ‘Cheesy’ like when your heart melts out of pity; ‘Mellow’ when you’ll ripen with age and sit back in your rocking chair pondering over the good old days and ‘Mushy’ to raise a toast to the beautiful moments so filled with love, mirth and ecstasy that time seemed to stop.

So often things have left us feeling dejected, helpless, vulnerable to circumstances, compelled to bow down before the situations posed with absolutely no options to choose from. Just like that, reach out for all the vegetables you can find in your refrigerator, then slice them, dice them, toss them, grate them or chop them and while you sauté them you’ll be gripped with apprehension as in most of life’s situations. But just keep holding on and it wouldn’t be long before you’ll savor the tempting aroma. After all everything comes in a passing phase!

Once the pizza’s done, garnish it exotically and cut it into eight pieces, four for the diet conscious. Call your chums over for a pizza party and enjoy a hearty conversation. They don’t say ‘Good times start with great pizzas’ just like that! And after relishing it all, there would be crumbs still left on the plate. That’s how life is. You pluck a cord and the melody continues to linger even when you are gone!

That’s one of my favorite dishes- a pizza. Something I cannot resist to devour before it’s even set on the platter. It’s not just an epitome of ‘Bon Appetite’ or an outcome of Italian serendipity but every bite of it is a celebration of something larger, something real. Something called LIFE!


Mind and Matter
03:07 - Posted by Shilpa K - 0 comments

A perpetual gaze at the distant horizon,
A ceaseless stare at the crimson sky,
A zephyr sweeps the restless mind,
A drapery drawn on the mortal world,
A pristine moment of solitude,
A close proximity to Him…

A soul clenched to vacuity,
A pure spirit levitates,
A radiant body unperturbed,
A heart calm and unruffled,
A soft glow from the halo,
A clear azure firmament,
A likewise mind…

A flash upon the inward eye,
A blurred vision of wants and longings,
A tapestry of unfulfilled desires,
A hallucination of lost opportunities,
A figment of towering wishes,
A haze cast out of nowhere,
A likewise mind…

A mirage at a distance,
A wrinkled forehead,
A twitch of a muscle,
A throb in the heart,
A spasmodic leap into reality,
A zap into to the earthly world…

A moment of ephemeral placidity,
A fleeting time gone in a jiffy,
A fidgety mind wanders again,
A dodging dream it chases,
A withering body bears it all and,
A soul swallows suffering…

A trice of proximity to Him,
A rejuvenation of spirits,
A rebirth of hopes,
A fire of vigor kindled,
A state of dynamism reached,
A thrust towards triumph gained!


Identity
03:03 - Posted by Shilpa K - 0 comments
"I"
They stand at the gate to welcome us in,
Greeting us without the slightest signs of a grin,
And when someone tries to break the ice,
Has to pay too heavy a price,
The cold response only leads to conclude,
They have had their sense of humor surgically removed!

Once again there is a heroic war of words,
Between the laathi armed gentlemen and the bunch of nerds,
The latter rack their brains for a king size whopper,
To somehow escape wearing their Medals of Honor,
Rules they believe are made to be broken,
And always the authorities for granted to be taken!

The game begins at nine, at the bugle’s blow,
Not far beyond the horizon does their network follow,
Blinding which the wittiest hero rises,
A victory over a thing the cult so much despises,
He roams scot-free having crowned a brave winner,
He, The Czar of all dungeons and a whole 16-acre!

Unlike his comrades who succumb in vain,
To the ‘Wear you ID-card’ campaign!
Who’ve called it everything from dog tags to name plates,
An embarrassment that every morning awaits,
Its funny and strange and also a pity,
The changing phases of the student mentality!


Slurrrp!
02:54 - Posted by Shilpa K - 0 comments


Dreamers can fascinate about the shooting stars, poets can immortalize incomplete love tales and painters can paint their imagination. But mediocre people like me (I doubt if I qualify for even that for I’m an engineering student!) who can live a lifetime in that much awaited day after every grueling paper, can only pen down the real world (That’s a concept you would be privileged enough to learn if by misfortune you happen to be a computer professional) and believe me unlike the assignments which are yet another way of honing your writing skills, this one’s the original master copy! So here I was at the Indian bistro- Urban Tadka. And yes, it deserves every bit of sizzle in its name!

They say, ‘Winners don’t do different things, they just do it differently!’ That is the success formula of this very ‘Indian’ restaurant that’s become the hot favorite of foodies like me. Good bye to dim lights, spanking white linen, fresh rose buds on table, a maitre d’hotel whose tie is better matched to his shirt than in your case and that sweet saxophone music playing in the background amidst the chime of crockery (almost a sedative when I was kid) coupled with clandestine whispers of people who are fervently battling against the last grain of rice armed with half a dozen pieces of cutlery! Let’s get wild. Let’s do away with pretences. Let’s celebrate! Let’s smell the soil of Punjab and feel the pulsating vibes of the land of makkai di roti and sarsoon da saag! Oye chukk de patte!

A narrow alley with sawdust in lieu of a red carpet welcomes me to this tinsel world where dining is truly an ‘experience.’ From behind the mysteriously huge heavy wooden door a whole new world waits for this aesthetic with wacky tones in her idea of beauty. And try as I may, I can’t help but flash a spontaneous ‘kya aap closeup karte hai’ smile on my face while admiring the knick-knacks that embellish the craggy walls- sewing machines, kites (not of the bird kinfolk…thank Heavens for that!) and tawdry posters of movies that are best suited for stumping your opponents in a game of dumb charades! The magic just keeps unfolding at every twist and turn of that lane (a crazy walk on the wild side should I say?)

This tavern-like restaurant will take you back to simplicity with all opulence and lavishness! Sounds antithetical, doesn’t it? (It was meant to be!). All those elite kids who have been born and brought up in bustling metropolises to mutate them into city slickers to the extent of being tired of the cliché hangout zones of coffee bars and pizza parlors could definitely buy the idea of substituting a glass of refreshing chilled lassi for a cup of lip smacking hot mocha or a stuffed paratha for a stuffed thick base extra cheese double topping (are these meant to be tongue twisters?) piece of Italian cuisine (and then of course dig into it with fork and knives…why not try chopsticks next time? Globalization on the plate! Don’t know about the world, but the plate sure is flat enough to prove the point!) And all though you must have steered you way to this place in your Mercedes Benz, the ambience would leave no stone unturned to make you imagine you have your ‘horn OK please’ parked just outside. Let me refrain myself from enlisting all the curios and animated culture that one comes across here, for although some may have told more than they can see, I can see, feel and experience more than I can tell! And about the ‘Meenu’ etched on the wooden slate you can ‘seafood’ like rotis and kebabs and enjoy ‘child bear’ too amidst some desi foot-tapping Punjabi ‘musik’ with a touch of folklore interspersed with the sound of drums which in my opinion are a cool way of replacing the bell at the pizza parlor and yes the Punjab-de -puttars in their colorful jazzy jacketed kurtas offer the Ritz Carlton pause too!

So, the only way to be distinctive is to be you. Do not jump on to the bandwagon and follow a blind alley for what may look like a light at the end of the tunnel could be that of an incoming train! See what makes you special, what you can offer to set you apart, to be recognized, to be known, to be heard, and to be understood by others and most importantly by you yourself. We all dream, but how many of us wake up to live them? Furthermore, let’s stop bickering about everything and anything Indian. No, I wouldn’t mention those great Indian achievers and contributions, which flood your inboxes and you still have no clue what they talk about. Personally, I haven’t read them either, for it’s time we stop rejoicing in our past glory and work out the present to change the picture of what seems like a bleak dogmatic future. How can a nation that has half a billion people without an ounce of vanity, ever make it big? Of denizens who would know what the 50 stars on the flag of the US of A represent but are oblivious to what the 24 spokes of the Ashoka Chakra are for?


Confluence of ideas, cultures and practices never demands the slaughter of nativity and self-worth at the altar of foreign hysteria. Why can’t it be hep to go out for an evening of classical dance recital once in a while rather than to groove at a discotheque so regularly? Why do our souls no longer spiritually connect to the beats of the tabla but follow a rock concert so religiously? Why have we stopped watching the national channels on the television, which once got us so addicted to the He-Man series and the Mahabharata? Why are we unaware of the importance of the red-letter days on our regional calendars except for that they guarantee a day off? Yes, agreed that the grass does look, and may be at times even is, greener on the other side of the fence. But while we kept looking there, we forgot to even scythe the one our side! All it calls for is a self-renaissance, to have a vision of our own, a mind that can think rather than blindly ape, and most importantly to search within than to search around. Well that restaurant quite provided me with food for thought! Burp!


The Antithesis called Life
02:46 - Posted by Shilpa K - 0 comments
A gush of emotions felt again
As another day comes to an end
The dawn of a night awaits
And I drift into pensive mood…
I look back upon the day, if only I should
Wondering what made it special,
Wondering was it anywhere close?
In a swarm of indifferent faces and ignorant existence
Living by the clock, hurrying for patience
In a race against myself
I run again, faster and harder
Sailing upwind,
The tide doesn’t cease
Ravaging, it blows, the violent breeze.
The shards, they splash,
The waves, they soar,
Teardrops trickle
And in torrents they pour.
From whom am I to hide?
What am I to seek?
To where am I to escape?
Captured in illusions, a blinded self it is,
A broken heart never at ease.
The nadir of self-esteem reached
The acme of dissatisfaction conquered…
And now the soul comes to life
Forgoes every whit of truth in the lies
Lays bare the spirit of being me,
Of living each day as it comes
And finding Heaven right within;
Soaking up the joy that each day brings
Aim not to achieve something big,
Life, I’ve realized, is made of small things!


If you may…
02:39 - Posted by Shilpa K - 0 comments
You may stop calling it a rose,
But you will never forget how it smells…
You may stop believing in fantasies,
But you would still hear Santa’s bells…
You may stop loving and caring,
But you would always know how it feels…
You may stop admiring the beauty of Nature,
But the sun would still shine from behind the hills…
You may want to be anyone but just you,
But your shadow wouldn’t ever change…
You may question your own faiths and believes,
But there are truths you cannot challenge…
You may stop listening to music,
But your heart won’t change its beat…
You may find the sky too far,
But at the horizon, it’s bound to meet!


Thank You Baby!
02:26 - Posted by Shilpa K - 0 comments
Words they don’t come easy,
When I most need them
But it’s just my heart,
Who else am I to blame?

It keeps vacillating, weighing
The rights against the wrongs,
In an endless search for codas
For unfinished songs

Songs of euphonious melodies,
Intertwined with euphoric memories,
With smiles and laughs that interlude
Sounds of chimes and violins

What would I be without these,
But a listless a cappella,
That I don’t have the courage to say it,
Is sheer mea culpa…


Midnight fantasies…
02:18 - Posted by Shilpa K - 3 comments
11 o’clock in the night
My mind’s filled with a thousand thoughts of you
As you lie next to me
Dressed in sparkling white, with blue sequins
Looking as mysterious as ever
Waiting to be explored
And I wish to hold you in my arms
But my hand just can’t reach out
My heart has decided to just let it go
And my mind…it doesn’t even have a say.
I look outside
The world’s asleep
I don’t want to end it all this way
Here we are, just a crease of a bedsheet apart
And yet so far
While you are lost in yourself
And am caught in your thought
Spending a sleepless night
Tossing and turning
With no memories of holding you close
No hopes of doing it ever
No dreams
No fantasies
Just reality biting back.
The clouds now drifting over the moon
The cool breeze gently kissing me goodnight
One last look at you
And I dim the lights
I have no regrets
But yes, I do have a confession to make
When you happen to be a fat 904 page book
You are simply too much to take!



~Eyes~
02:05 - Posted by Shilpa K - 0 comments


Personifying vigor, exemplifying courage
They are the soldier’s eyes
So filled with rage
No martyrs too brave
No sacrifice too great
He sees it all,
And names it fate.

He sees no light, the darkness haunts
Tipping his stick
Through lonely lanes, lonesome he jaunts
He knows no fear
He knows no sorrow
He feels the warmth and names it ‘morrow
A shallow life, a deep sixth sense
Stranded in the crowd, filled with reticence

They see the future, a Xanadu they envisage
Past the fear and the stigma
The world they would change
They are, the eyes of the visionary,
Lost in thought
To end this disgrace they have ought
The cynics as they are,
At these thoughts they jeer
To value whose worth it takes many a year

Low and sunken, they hold no hopes
His estate and his pride
Is now on the ropes
Indebted to the last count of a penny
A painful guilt now pricks his vanity
Having played foul games to make big bucks
In a cocoon of embarrassment he shamefully tucks.

The eyes hold nothing but the blatant truth,
With the twinkle of childhood
And the spark of youth
With a glint of happiness,
Sometimes a speck of penitence,
Tacitly reflecting the heart’s silence.


…Show me the meaning of being me…
01:46 - Posted by Shilpa K - 0 comments


Yellow attendance books, black lists, blue days…who ever said life isn’t colorful? So as the world keeps spinning (along with my head), the night giving way to the day (taking it from an optimist’s point of view) and the black hair giving way to the gray ones (some experts believe it’s due to ‘stress’, the next step towards old age that sets soon after you blow those 21 candles on your birthday and see it all go up in smoke and after battling the bahmbahmbahm effect) and I have to face yet another evening without the internet, I sit down to write what am best at…pure unadulterated nonsense!

After contemplating for long if I should buy Peter Norvig (sorry to the fellow author for I couldn’t mention your name, it’s always that when one’s under the spotlight, the other has no option but to settle for the shadow) or some tech-max book (how we love the Indian authors…ardent supporters of swadesi ideas aren’t we?), I finally marched to the bookstore today; giving him the details, the author, the semester, the branch and the subject and I waited. Then I waited again. And finally after waiting for some more time he bangs a book that reads Instrumentation Sciences!!! That is when I realized that IS could mean different things to different people! And at that point of time it spelled Irritated Silly! And as the ‘uncle’ went back into his lair of books a girl drops in…she had stopped on her way to the moon with her shuttle driver not ready to wait long…and the ‘uncle’ decides to preempt the hunt for Peter Norvig’s. She had come to get a 12th std. Hindi guide!! Such a thingy!! I wait there admiring the fat books and more so the ones who had all the time in the world to write them for those who always complain of not having the time to read them and still have no alternative but to buy them!! You see, a foreign author’s name that you manage to pronounce with that added dash of indianised syllables just sounds too hep during the vivas! Chirp chirp!! Oh she was talking to me! “So which standard are you in?” Did I look too young to her? Well going by the latitudes, maybe I did? But this tired face couldn’t be of a school going kid! No chance. No way! Hmm…girlie was trying to be funny :-/! “What…uuh?..am doing engineering…final year”, I snap back. “Ooooh!” comes the reply. Now what’s that? Kiddo! Wait till you get into an engineering college I curse her! And she disappears. With a screwed up face I ask again for the book. Yeah, right, the book is unavailable! Life has become as predictable as the K-series sagas! So try another store…when one door’s closed knock on the other! No use! Talk about knocking on the wrong doors??

So after that earnest hunt for Peter Norvig…I return empty handed and empty headed! And this is the best way to pour out my emptiness!

Hanging on in the over crowded trains, confronting the pig-headed ‘aunties’ who refuse to budge and the taxi-wallahs who literally don’t miss an opportunity to take me on a ride, the whistling ‘watch’ men, the mundane lectures, the stuffy labs, the undefined practicals, the quantified assignments, the pains of eating deep fried noodles with a spoon and those of eating half fried chips in a state of trance, the dilemmas, the ever prevailing predicaments, the days when even the radio stops playing my favorite songs, the ones when I begin to question the very path am traveling on or should I say pulling on, the days when everything seems topsy-turvy- you and the world around you, trapped in a whirling spiral! Gimme a break!!
It’s weird. The world’s set out to sail on the same boat. Nobody has had the time to carry a compass! We are lost! When will we stop living in the past and stop wanting to leap into the future and never live the present? When will we start writing in our diaries about the unknown faces that offer us a fourth seat in the train or about the little girl who amused you with her questions, about how it felt when you saw the rainbow stretched across the sky, of how it feels to fall asleep listening to the rain outside or how it feels to wake up to put your best dress on, how you felt when you sat by the window looking at the peach sunset, how it felt to have danced all by yourself when no one was watching, how it felt when you read all the good things that filled your scrap book, about the reminiscence that the old photo albums bring with them, of how it feels to lick at the melting hot chocolate layer on a chilled vanilla ice-cream, of how it feels- the soft touch of a woolen blanket as you snuggle inside it on cold night in the light of a burning fireplace, mesmerized by that old song you always love to listen to? When will we learn to do away with the to-do lists, the schedules, and the reminders? When will we learn to shun the violence, the hatred, the jealousy, and the pathos that we ourselves are responsible for? When will we start living a life that matters…that we can call our own…that we can cherish…that we can look back at and just smile from cheek to cheek! Time is ticking! :P


The Stroll
01:40 - Posted by Shilpa K - 0 comments


Through the frosted glass window
Draped with plush upholstery
She reckons a green paradise beyond
From the flawed silhouette of a tree

Loneliness she incarnates,
For seclusion is her companion
Solitude she personifies,
And freedom is an illusion

The Mozart of splintering raindrops
The delicate scent of wet clay
The outside summons, she declines
For indoors she must stay

A picturesque world lies somewhere close
Of olive meadows and vines of sweet smelling rose
Of crystal clear ponds laced with shingle
The hope to be where still hasn’t stopped to linger

To follow the trail to nowhere
And tread along the winding riverside
To chase the fleet of birds in the sky
And reach the fields after a tiring stride

To leap over timber fences
And step into puddles on the way
To skip over hurdles of tussocks
And hop into the bed after a tiring day

A ballet with the whirling wind
That rattles the window pane
A tango around that very tree
In the invigorating rain

But in a strong mansion walled against delight
She lay ridden on the bed day after night
The room may be pretty, full of grandiloquence
But her mere presence there, hints of reticence

She gently closes her soft hazel eyes
A tear rolls off and mercilessly dries
She feels within, the freedom of a thousand doves
Even as she lies there anchored to her woes

She paddles with great vigor against the turbulent tides
For the body may wither but the spirit never dies
In search of an unseen miracle to free her from the clutches
Even as she lies there unmoved, as lifeless as her crutches…


The Last Goodbye
01:10 - Posted by Shilpa K - 0 comments


The road ahead was an uphill climb, but not once did I whine
'cause all through the endless ride you were there, my sunshine!
Having walked a few miles together, it's now time to part
Pick up the emotional baggage and leave with a mellow heart!

I would hate to leave this place dear
Where I found friends for life
I would love to just be here
And freeze it all in time!

It was here we took our friendship vow
For testimony stood the dome
Who would know me so well now
As they did back at home?

We've seen them paint it all- blue green and red
We've seen it getting washed with the very first rain
But on the desk and on our hearts what we once engraved
Will stand the tests of time friend and forever will remain!

Pens and chalks won't be swords
And cows and bulls will go into slumber
For in the grid the 9-lettered words
Would now always spell 'I REMEMBER'

And when we meet next pal, would there be time enough
To share like the good 'ol days a cheerful hearty laugh?
And when we meet next pal, will it the same ever be
A warmer conversation over those hot cups of tea?

This hand would still wave out to all planes that go passing by
'cause in one of them would be my friend with success soaring high!
You may never see me again and chirp a chirpy 'Hi!'
But deep inside I'll be happy, having said The Last Goodbye!


What lies inside the VJTI dome? (fiction)
00:44 - Posted by Shilpa K - 1 comments
The crescent moon shone brilliantly from it's celestial abode to hurt the vanity of the gurkha's just sharpened khukri at the mortal hands of a nearby churriwala (which he admired for long moments before allowing himself into a trance), with it's edges defined with impeccable perfection, carved against the velvet black sky but somewhat marred when the pinnate and wedge-shaped leaves of the tall mysterious trees that circumscribed the vicinity of the architectural grandeur cast their ugly shadows on the achromatic beauty. The wind moved as if to manifest the uneasiness that had begun to ferment in one of the trio as they slithered in through the narrow opening of the cracked creepy wall with grim growths spreading across it creating an eerie mosaic of little leaves, ruddy roots and tendrils that probably had never made it to the labyrinth of botanical jargon.

Man is a strange animal. He intermingles his pettiest desires with surmounting dreams, with his ignorant existence gives it the buzz word karma and sets out to achieve the unfathomable goals with a homogenous blend of insanity and mindlessness making life less life-sized. But this trio had always taken the road less traveled (Is that why their elbows were brushing against the crevices of the damp wall?) and had set out to unravel the small mysteries that dotted their everyday lives and answer the questions that bid a subdued adieu with the dusk but never failed to resurface with the break of every dawn. Tonight what they were about to quest would leave one less question for the following dawn. It's amazing what a bunch of sophomores in their salad days can do!

While one of them had sworn to just touch and go because he had taken up the gauntlet, the other two knew they were on a ride of their lifetime. In the cold dark of that night as they traced their way to the first floor, almost with an instinct, they could hear the faint howl of the canines in the background that were as much a family to the familiar surroundings as were these young men. The howl was soon muffled by their own breaths as they gasped for the thick air filled with the peculiar archaic stench. They stood at the foot of the winding rusted staircase that coiled mysteriously before it disappeared somewhere in the darkness of the poorly lit and flaky cathedral ceiling that probably was never mended since the time it was built in the early 1800s. They let a moment pass to capture in their minds the last visions of the enigmatic structure which had baffled them hitherto and whose secret path they were now about to explore. Curiosity thy name is young mind!

Then they took it... the first step on the dilapidated stairway, one small step for them but a giant leap for the curious mind! As they ascended the stairs the metallic creak of the forbidden stairway reverberated and bounced back on their ears as if the echoes had no where else to go. The snaky climb of a good 20 feet had left them feeling vertiginous in the abysmal darkness they were led to. The place smelled dusty, damp and dizzy all at the same time. His nose twitched. He knew it was coming. An earsplitting sneeze that sounded like a cannon that had been fired at them point blanc. There was something unusually different about the echoes they heard this time. They lasted longer and sounded like the entire town hid itself in the pitch-black darkness and unanimously sneezed to scoff at the frail figure that couldn't take the smell of dust that had settled there just two hundred years back. Even as they whispered they felt that a million microphones were hung from somewhere to amplify every single syllable they uttered and broadcast it on the radio to make the world aware of what three curious extraordinary minds had set to discover on that ordinary night and how the truth they were to ferret out would not astonish anybody as much as to even raise an eyebrow. They knew they were there- in the heart of The Dome! The gargantuan, majestic, mastodonic, colossal architectural masterpiece!

His hand fumbled into his pocket and dropped a dozen things that would have tinkled and rattled on the stony floor had it not been for the soft carpet of dust, till he gripped the torch and switched it on. The beam could not penetrate any deeper than a few inches through the thick air that was misty and hazy with clouds of dust and when it did it only revealed the intricately weaved cobwebs that were carefully set to play cat's cradle with anybody who dared to venture that far. There were queer looking canvass paintings of wealthy aristocrats that seemed to live to dress dandily in cropped coats and high boots. Peeling off layers of dust to emaculate one of those art works revealed in fine print
Proprietors- Victoria Jubilee Weaving Mills 1889

It was a warehouse of arcane artifacts that seemed eager to tell a tale about the mystic and obscure past after being silenced and shut in the dark corners for an aeon under the eclipse cast by nothing but time itself; so enormous that archaeologists could spend their lifetimes digging into the treasure and one day add up to the archives themselves. Neatly lined against the arched walls were lofty chests of dull tarnished heavy metal with embellishments that promised to encase nothing but rich heritage and untold secrets. Ignoring the established belief that opening boxes out of curiosity had always plagued people, he advanced, with the same amount of curiosity which Hera had given Pandora, casting on the trunk his eyes which were now heavy having fought the smoky air just like his choked lungs and signaled his accomplice to give him a hand at it.

Lo behold! A thunderous outburst swept them off their feet like a storm lifts a maple leaf, out of the squalid confines of the dome, back tracking the path, dashing against shafts of tall pillars, thumping against bricked walls, squeezing through narrow slits of ajar doors and broken sashes of fanlights, rolling on rusted railings of old staircases, through dingy corridors, at neck breaking speed traveling through space and time, defying boundaries of the fourth dimension, catapulted in a split second to land on a wooden bench, staring at mathematical derivations that looked like encrypted messages received from outer space just when the words "That's all for today's lecture!" fell on the numb ears and brought the wandered mind back to the present. He looked out of the window and it stood right there in broad daylight, looking as enigmatic as ever and a thought crossed his mind... What ever lies inside that dome? Surely, a thing of mystery is a haunt forever!


Enthusia '05 Jingle
00:37 - Posted by Shilpa K - 0 comments

Life seems to take a new meaning
When it’s time for Enthusia
Like a refreshing summer breeze it comes
This sports mania!

It promises fun n endless excitement
On every participant’s agenda
So get yourself noticed
And become a super nova!

And there you may be trying to ‘escape’
The blitz of the media
Just like any other sports star
Need mention Anna Kournikova?

So flaunt your unfurled flag and hold high your mace
Come be a part of this amazing race
Let cool jerseys dot courts and placards create a maze
Let slogans shoot up to deafening decibels
And cheerleaders add more grace!

The best lay their lucky hands on trophies so strongly coveted
Winning and losing is part of the game,
Only participation leaves you elated
Ups and downs sportsmanship foster
Do you have what it takes to ride ENTHUSIA
-The rocking roller coaster?


Only Sports. No games.



The Art of Living
00:33 - Posted by Shilpa K - 0 comments
Time flies away and before you even know,
The moment you've been waiting for, is now no more!
Moments add up to what we call History,
They leave behind a trail of junk in the memory;
Something we cling to all our life
We weep and we cry and nothing in it seems to be right!

From this very moment make a fresh start
Live each moment that forever will last
And stop brooding over the old, wicked past.
Let the winds of change storm your heart
Take up living as a work of Art!

An inside voice you soon will hear
That will fill your heart to it's brim with cheer.
Life would be enjoyable as if a sweet song,
And nothing in it would ever seem wrong!


Struck
00:30 - Posted by Shilpa K - 0 comments

For him it must have been just another ordinary day,
In the vast ocean of time, those moments must have simply drift away.
But for her they were golden moments that she'll always cherish,
They are now a part of sweet unwashed memories!

He came up to her on that day so lovely,
Sang his heart out truely, madly, deeply.
Suddenly there arose a riot of glee
They shouted,"You successfully completed the dare given to thee!"

Life since then was never the same,
She too was then a part of the foolish lovers' game!
Little did she know that she had a crush,
And everytime he was around she couldn't help but blush!

Never had she imagined she would fall for someone
But she did 'coz he wasn't just anyone.
He seemed to her what worlds failed to hype,
To her he was simply larger than life!

That sudden outburst of infatuation
She feared would be a fatal attraction.
At a time of life like this,
She didn't wish to mess up with prorities!

So all those feelings she's hidden in deep boxes,
Would only open when time provides the keys.
All over again she'll face the cupid's attack,
And she's so sure someone would 'dare' to come back!


Without you...
00:14 - Posted by Shilpa K - 0 comments
Lonely and alone I sit in the dark
Try as I may, those memories do come rushing back..
Of the times when you and I were together
We had sworn we would make it last forever!

It was only destiny that did us apart
And shattered into million pieces this fragile heart..
But there is something that keeps me going on
The faith that we won't be apart for too long!

An angel would come for me as for you it did
And of this pain I'll once again be rid...
It'll take me to the place where I'm meant to be
To the Heavens above...just you and me!


Once on a rainy day...(26th July 2005)
23:53 - Posted by Shilpa K - 0 comments


The sky had opened up and all the hell had broken loose. It was pouring cats and dogs and if I were to say, even elephants and whales! The lecture ended and the look of bliss on each one’s face was enough to give a big time complex to someone whose death sentence had just been cancelled. Little did we know we had a long day lying ahead!

Within no time every corner and corridor was vacated and the college bore the look of a marooned island far off the coastline. Albeit the heroic Trojans were still there making decisions (you know how good we are at that!), which at that hour of the day seemed more difficult than deciding if India should sign the CTBT. But some Daniel came to judgment and the battalion made a move, advancing in squadrons to their ultimate destination- Home Sweet Home (Respective homes is implied)!

But three war heroes stayed back. One, who was probably highly stimulated by the atmospheric changes to carry out an 11th hour duty for the upcoming tech fest, second waiting for the dolphins to come cruising and take her home and third, the angelic demon, only to give a drop to the first and company to the second in spite of not being in the pink of health himself. Now that I think should earn him some extra brownies! Speaking of brownies in a different context, we had devoured plenty of them already. This was one of those days when the quiet girl with her silence makes her presence felt almost thunderously!

The weather had almost cast a magic spell. Gusts of wind that swayed the trees in the campus brought with them a spirit of divine freshness. It seemed to bring to life everything inanimate. Felt like Seventh Heaven. But beyond it was a different world. The city of seven islands was in deep waters.

The cellular networks, which otherwise connect people to their dear ones, like an umbilical cord running across the city spanning every inch of it, were jammed. The ‘future’ didn’t quite seem ‘bright’. Those were the first signs of the catastrophe that followed.

News of the transport system breaking down spread like wild fire. So off we were on Shanks’s pony. The paranoia of disappearing in thin air gripped us. Who knew if the BMC was kind enough to leave a few manholes open for the water to seep in? (For those of you who felt it would be safer to be gobbled up from down below and come out of the tap the following day, let me tell you that the city has been facing a major water crisis since then. So you were lucky you didn’t venture!) Wading through the water-clogged lane, with gushes of water in the opposite direction (Nature follows Murphy’s Law) we reached Kapol Nivas junction.

It looked more like an ocean where every sea on the face of the earth had come to empty it’s water. Not even a trace of a moving vehicle. It was a bad hair day all right! First you make one of the biggest sacrifices of your student life- two hours of sound sleep, to attend a lecture which gets cancelled (You don’t expect me to know which lecture was it, do you? Grow up! We are in TE! We don’t even wear our ID cards any longer!), then surviving a mundane lecture to jot down a syllabus so full of jargon that even Hebrew would have made much more sense to us and if all that wasn’t enough, there we were, as stranded as a crew of sailors who have abandoned their sinking vessel in the heart of the sea with no life boat around! But as though a prayer was answered long ago (exactly two semesters back) we had the girl living next door. So all roads on that eventful day lead to her house. Dripping and drenched from head to toe we flocked at her place frantically trying to establish a connection with the missing pals. Wild thoughts flew like bats in the belfry until we could find their whereabouts.

We got a Royal treatment there as if we were the Maharajas from the Orient. After sipping steaming hot cups of tea and having gulped down plates of deep fried pakodas we were once again in a mood to get wet. I mean more wet. You could see us coming out of the cocoon to turn into freaks! Some went across the road, battling against the water and behaved as if it was the Sea of Tranquility that they had just crossed! A cabbie woke up with a start. Something similar to spider man had just crept up his half submerged taxi. Was it really spider man who’d come to save the city? Was it an ET? The day had brought enough surprises not to believe this one. Nah! This guy was just trying to get a bird’s eye view of the havoc that lied ahead.

The butthawala on the corner must have surely made a fortune! Who, remotely human (that was necessary to counts us), could resist the tempting aroma of the fresh corn as it sizzles on the tongues of fire? The corns were sold like freshly baked hot cup cakes! And it was there that we met the only guy we couldn’t contact (well it’s a long story I’m so trying to keep short) munching on his share of corns. (I’ll bet this corn corner drew more crowd than the corn club on the other side of the road did through the year) Got news about the water level in college there. Stairs in the quad were serving as watermarks for a change!

Now the story takes a different turn here. It’s one o’clock in the morning. A time you would otherwise be in bed. All cuddled up and cozy. But I was making an unsuccessful effort to relax in the cramped space inside my car as I switched stations on the radio. A tiny blue spec in the labyrinth of motionless vehicles. Time lost it’s meaning even as the digital clock flashed every single second to keep track of it. The songs on the radio (the only means of entertainment apart from the foggy windows) were nonetheless adding insult to injury. “Zindagi bhar nahin bhulenge yeh barsaat ki raat…” ,“…Aage hai barsaat, peeche hai toofan……ghar hamko jaane na dega” Could very well sense the mockery in those songs. I got down slamming the door behind me and stood with my arms akimbo. That didn’t make the situation any better. Outside it was cold enough to freeze the tail of a brass monkey! And I wasn’t even made up of brass! Damn!

As of others, some were enjoying good forty winks at a place called ‘home’. (Now ‘respective’ isn’t implied!). Some others were enjoying over a game of cards at a place, which as the ever-effervescent host puts it, is a perfect hangout zone with the best collection of music and movies. To raise a toast the least I could say here…

“I’ll be there for you,
When the rain starts to pour,
I’ll be there for you,
Like I’ve been there before,
I’ll be there for you,
‘Coz you’re there for me too!”

Despite of repeated urges to join the party (I’m sure it wasn’t anything less than that!) I kept fervently holding on to the forlorn hope of the water receding all through the night till the break of dawn. Now I’ll just skip the details of the following day. (After writing journals I can proudly say I’ve mastered that art of skipping unnecessary details!)

27th was the day that never was on the calendars of many. I’ve vowed not to focus on the ugly consequences of the rains, that washed away anything and everything but the ‘hope’ of the million victims, the only thing that has kept the human spirit all alive and kicking and helped it survive Nature’s wrath. The media has enough to tell and show you to keep you from having your meals for days on end. The hard facts of life!

That week has seen lives change over night and flip a complete 180. We are amongst the blessed bunch and let’s thank the Almighty for that. On a concluding note, wonder if the 26th is indeed jinxed? It’s all in the mind! Didn’t it promise a week’s holiday for us?


The Hourglass
23:43 - Posted by Shilpa K - 0 comments


She wore a pony tail and always dressed in pink
She was so unlike any girl at the age of six you can think!
Never was she keen about going to her kindergarten class
'coz rhymes and tales never fascinated her as much as the Hourglass!

This thing of beauty was treasured, being a gift ancestreal
The slipping white sand shimmered in the glass like a crystal!
As she looked at it spell bound with her eyes turquoise blue
She let her thoughts go wild and her fancies too flew!


Thanks to the mischievious gleam in her eye
They feared and kept it on a shelf way too high!
How she longed to grow up some day
And find her hand reach this marvel kept at bay!


Then whenever she pleased she would turn it upside-down
Go back in time and undo all those frowns!
She would even loop in time all happy moments
Especially the ones when they got her great presents!


Time kept slipping away and she became old enough to realise
That what she awed at as a kid wasn't any magical device!
She blushed at her innocence and with sarcasm she said,
"If only I would have tilted the hourglass to this time instead!"


Nature
23:08 - Posted by Shilpa K - 0 comments




Far away from this maddening crowd, free from melancholy,
Lead me to a distant land, to seek Nature’s harmony…
Usher me to a whole new paradise, full of tranquility,
Where all I can ask for, is divine serenity!

Where nature plays the choir that hums a sweet song,
To hear which these vexed ears ‘ve been waiting so long…
Where the soft rustle of the autumn leaves creates jazz,
Enriching body, mind and soul with the charismatic power it has!

And on the roof-top when the raindrops would begin to pour,
Tapping on those music beats I would make it to the dance floor…
Where I’ll get to hear chirping on every bird’s call
So also the roaring waves as they rise with every fall!

These dull drowsy eyes wish to behold Nature’s beauty
Just a glimpse of joy that would last an eternity…
Let Nature paint its canvas in vivacious, vibrant hues
Sketch a timeless masterpiece in shades of scarlet and blues!

Where at the break of every dawn, with the very first streaks,
Like a million stars they’ll dazzle- the snow capped peaks…
And from behind the sun-kissed hills will rise the great ball of fire,
To bask in its eternal warmth, is all that I desire!

Lush green meadows, wild flowers and butterflies
Where Heaven descends in Nature’s disguise…
Carpets of sepia sand and grass laid in jade,
A tequila sunset and in darkness they will fade!

Till a million starts peep out from the black velvet sky
Bathing in silvery moonlight, the darkness they’ll defy…
Bewitching me with all their splendor, a spell they would cast
Mesmerize my senses and fill up voids of the past!

Show me the way to where the wind won’t cease to flow,
To soothe a burning soul, is there a place you know?
Let me tread along that path, on these trembling weary feet,
And listen to Nature’s symphony with every heartbeat!