Poems
Mind Matters
Vanisha Srinidhi.K BBMT 3rd Year
Mind Matters
Vanisha Srinidhi.K BBMT 3rd Year
This day may be filled with smoothness,
This night may beget nightmares.
This day may be to rejoice,
This night may be to mourn.
This day may be a choke,
This night may be a start.
This day may be to cherish,
This night may be to perish.
However the situation is-
The Only required Element:
To Overcome all Hurdles-
CONFIDENCE
Eventually, the mind that matters the most
LET IT GO!
My Heart's New Dawn
Juveria Tabassum B.Com Ist Year
I awoke one morning with a mind in a mess too deep.
After a stormy night and a stingy sleep.
On my bed, I lay,
Just tossing and turning,
My heart simply lamenting. My eyes burning.
This night may beget nightmares.
This day may be to rejoice,
This night may be to mourn.
This day may be a choke,
This night may be a start.
This day may be a celebration,
This night may be reprobation.
However the situation is-
The Only required Element:
Eventually, the mind that matters the most
My Heart's New Dawn
Juveria Tabassum B.Com Ist Year
I awoke one morning with a mind in a mess too deep.
After a stormy night and a stingy sleep.
On my bed, I lay,
Just tossing and turning,
I had learnt that night, a hard tough lesson:
That a broken heart's no lullaby for any alive person.
I knew not whether,
"About the heart breaks of the day by-gone;
"Did past failures, ever haunt their secret slumber?"
The answer as I watched them,
Was a conclusion, so foregone!
That their will to survive the day and live,
As long as they could,
That a broken heart's no lullaby for any alive person.
I knew not whether,
I wished for a night's sleep.
Or maybe never to wake
From a slumber too deep.
But my heart, it's a stubborn fellow.
It woke me up while all was dark.
However, I saw,
The starlight fading,
As I felt the breeze rustle my hair,
As I watched the first drop of dew falling,
I sensed it, quite miraculously,
Drowning my despair.
There it was,
The first flock of pigeons,
Preparing for another day of flight,
A determined hunt for food,
Was the only thing in their sight.
"Did they care?", I wondered,Or maybe never to wake
From a slumber too deep.
But my heart, it's a stubborn fellow.
It woke me up while all was dark.
However, I saw,
The starlight fading,
As I felt the breeze rustle my hair,
As I watched the first drop of dew falling,
I sensed it, quite miraculously,
Drowning my despair.
There it was,
The first flock of pigeons,
Preparing for another day of flight,
A determined hunt for food,
Was the only thing in their sight.
The answer as I watched them,
Was a conclusion, so foregone!
That their will to survive the day and live,
As long as they could,
Surpassed every despairing feeling, every sorry thought.
And as I watched the sunlight,
Peering through the clouds
I just plainly, understood
Peering through the clouds
I just plainly, understood
That just like the mighty sun,
Cared not for the storms of the past day,
And turned up to shine, hard and bright,
I knew, I should let,
My sorrows take a flight.
I am ready to fight,
Cared not for the storms of the past day,
And turned up to shine, hard and bright,
I knew, I should let,
My sorrows take a flight.
I am ready to fight,
I'm prepared to be happy
And to make others glad too.
Like the rays of a bright, young,
Morning light...
And to make others glad too.
Like the rays of a bright, young,
Morning light...
Home
Juveria.T
Never felt so left out before,
So alone and so ignored.
Never felt so left out before,
So alone and so ignored.
This place is so new, so unknown.
Just too different, Oh so forlorn!
"Bring back!” wails my heart,
"The haven you've left behind",
"The lordly palace, the lovely companions,"
"The place that felt so divine"
"Where life I saw through beauty's eye,"
Just too different, Oh so forlorn!
"Bring back!” wails my heart,
"The haven you've left behind",
"The lordly palace, the lovely companions,"
"The place that felt so divine"
"Where life I saw through beauty's eye,"
"Where I strolled unstrained,"
"Unbound by panic or by strife"
"With a fearless spirit that soothed all pain."
And each time now my heart cries this lament,
It does through my memories completely comb
And come up with that honest answer,
"It is not, after all, easy, to leave Home."
Book Review
Vanisha Srinidhi.K
Published in The Hindu, Metro Plus 2nd September 2013
With coarse dialogue filmmakers are spoiling the teacher-
student relationship in real life. The portrayal of the teachers
shown in films, such as flirting scenes between student and
teacher, using the double meaning dialogues and sexual
innuendos are so sleazy. It is not necessary to project such
things onscreen which ultimately leads to cynicism. Because
of this, students are behaving worse while responding to
teachers and their respect for teacher in society will dip. Not
only the present generation but the impact also falls on the
coming generation.
"Unbound by panic or by strife"
"With a fearless spirit that soothed all pain."
And each time now my heart cries this lament,
Book Review
Incredibly Funny and Thoroughly Enjoyable
Review of Anurag Mathur's The Inscrutable Americans (1991)
Chani, Department of MBA
I enjoyed reading Anurag Mathur’s depiction of American culture through the eyes of Gopal Kumar, the naïve, Indian boy. I have many things to say and share about this widely read and analysed novel. However, in the following article, I have collected and represented some of my favourite reviews on the novel. All of them together, highlight the important aspects of the novel in an interesting, perky and creative way.
The author describes the experiences of Indian student Gopal Kumar in the American Heartland, as he comes to the US to continue his university studies. A good student from a family that has been very successful in the hair oil business for generations, he comes from the boondocks in India, too- even if his hometown is known as the “The Paris of Madhya Pradesh”- and hasn’t been exposed to much. Barely ever having had any contact with girls, much less being intimate with one, he nevertheless anticipates that penthouse letters will prove ‘’the finest possible guide to surviving in America’’ (Orthofer 2012).
Gopal complains in a letter to his brother about the local language: “It is not English, it is American” (Orthofer 2012).
This is a fairly typical tale of a naïf abroad. Mathur (author) who spent some years as a student in Eversville- like Tulsa, Oklahoma) does a reasonably good job of presenting how Gopal sees and navigates this foreign word, from the first time he sees snow to his shyness to go to a party. Gopal also learns a little about America’s racial problems (Orthofer 2012).
If you want to laugh out loud then this is the book for you. The cultural reference to an Indian boy’s upbringing is bang on. The letters written by Gopal, the protagonist are hilarious. Mathur’s description of New York City will flash right in front of your eyes. His experiences of cultural shocks and immigrant experience will make it hard to put this book down (Nijhawan 2015).
The novel is a discovery of himself and of America, with a little of Christopher Columbus and a lot of Eddie Murphy, where shallow humor rubs shoulders with touching observation (Shetty 1990).
It is an amusing variation on the way too familiar theme of the innocent abroad, and remains of some interest, both how foreigners see the United States and how Indians (of a particular time and class) fared abroad. Gopal is sure to find a soul mate in every Indian arriving by the planeload at American airports every day, head full of preconceptions and heart full of hopes(Shetty 1990).
Sources:
M.A. Orthofer. http://www.complete-review.com/reviews/india/mathura.htm. 6 February, 2012.
Surabhi Nijhawan. http://www.indiatimes.com/lifestyle/self/12-books-by-indian-authors-you-need-to-read-now-230548.html?fb_comment_id=833732943364005_941632899240675#f1801c0d0ad5261. April 23 2015.
Kavitha Shetty. http://indiatoday.intoday.in/story/book-review-anurag-mathur-the-inscrutable-americans/1/316036.html. December 31 1990.
Note on Author
Remembering Enid Blyton
Juveria.T
"It is partly the struggle that helps you so much, that gives
you determination, character, self-reliance – all things
that help in any profession or trade and most certainly in
writing".
you determination, character, self-reliance – all things
that help in any profession or trade and most certainly in
writing".
–Enid Blyton
Her
stories taught us just that and so much more.
Blyton’s world of adventure,
friendship, wonders and of
course, baskets upon picnic baskets loaded with
delicious food, introduced millions of children
worldwide to the joy of
reading.
Enid
Mary Blyton was born on 11th of August 1897 in
East Dulwich, London,
England. As a child, she was
fascinated with nature and often took long walks
along
the scenic English countryside along with her father.
Enid attended St.
Christopher’s School in Beckenham,
where she enjoyed physical activities and
was quite an
active lacrosse and tennis player, though her academic
exploits,
were relatively modest.
Enid
loved writing even as a child. She participated in
a poetry writing competition
for children and her
triumph there, encouraged her to take her talent for
writing further. She trained to be a teacher after
finishing her school as head
girl. She qualified in 1918
and accepted a post at Bickley Park School. By this
time, she was writing continuously in her spare time.
Though she was repeatedly
rejected by the earliest
publishers she approached, Enid was never
disheartened. Her
first book, Child Whispers,
a 24-page
collection of poems, was published in 1922.
The Enchanted Wood,
the first book in the Faraway
Tree series, published in 1939, is about a magic tree
inspired by the Norse mythology that had fascinated
Blyton as a child.
According to Blyton's daughter
Gillian, the inspiration for the magic tree came
from
"thinking up a story one day and suddenly she was
walking in the
enchanted wood and found the tree. In
her imagination she climbed up through
the branches
and met Moon-Face, Silky, the Saucepan Man and the
rest of the
characters. She had all she needed."
In
the year 1942, Blyton published the first novel in
the Famous Five series, Five on a Treasure Island. Its
popularity resulted in twenty-one books between then
and 1963, and the
characters of Julian, Dick, Anne,
George (Georgina) and Timmy the dog became
household names in Britain.
In a letter to the
psychologist Peter McKellar, Blyton
describes her writing technique:
I shut my eyes for a few minutes, with my portable
typewriter on my knee – I make my mind a blank and
wait – and then, as clearly as I would see real children,
my characters stand before me in my mind's eye ... The
first sentence comes straight into my mind, I don't
have to think of it – I don't have to think of anything.
Gillian has recalled that her mother "never knew where
her stories came from", but that she used to talk about
them "coming from her 'mind's eye '", as did William
Wordsworth and Charles Dickens. Blyton had "thought
it was made up of every experience she'd ever had,
everything she's seen or heard or read, much of which
had long disappeared from her conscious memory" but
never knew the direction her stories would take. Blyton
further explained in her biography that "If I tried to
think out or invent the whole book, I could not do it.
For one thing, it would bore me and for another, it
would lack the 'verve' and the extraordinary touches
and surprising ideas that flood out from my imagination."
Blyton herself wrote
that "my love of children is the whole foundation of all my work".
Blyton's health began to deteriorate in 1957. Her agent George Greenfield recalled that it was "unthinkable" for the "most famous and successful of children's authors with her enormous energy and computer-like memory" to be losing her mind and suffering from what is now known as Alzheimer's disease in her mid-sixties.
During the months following her husband's death, Blyton became increasingly ill, and moved into a nursing home three months before her death. She died at the Greenways Nursing Home, London, on 28 November 1968, aged 71. She was cremated at Golders Green Crematorium, where her ashes remain.
The story of Blyton's life was dramatized in a BBC film
entitled Enid, which aired in the United Kingdom
on BBC Four on 16 November 2009. Helena Bonham
Carter, who played the title role, described Blyton as "a
complete workaholic, an achievement junkie and an
extremely canny businesswoman" who "knew how to
brand herself, right down to the famous signature".
during her 40-year career. Her books and the worlds
she created ignited the flame of imagination in the
minds of millions of children all over the world. Despite
a lot of criticism about her work, she remains widely
read even today.
People who knew Enid, often described her as emotionally immature, unstable and even malicious, to some extent. However, it is for her stories and her incredible talent of drawing in the minds of young people into reading that Enid Blyton is remembered for. Blyton's daughter Imogen has stated that she "loved a relationship with children through her books", but real children were an intrusion, and there was no room for intruders in the world that Blyton occupied through her writing. These statements do not exactly show Blyton in the greatest light. She appears to have been very self-absorbed and cut off from the world
around her. Her literary genius, however,
cannot be doubted. She was, and still remains one of
the world’s most beloved writers.
Source of Image/Text: Wikipedia
Published Article
Vanisha Srinidhi.K
Published in The Hindu, Metro Plus 2nd September 2013
With coarse dialogue filmmakers are spoiling the teacher-
student relationship in real life. The portrayal of the teachers
shown in films, such as flirting scenes between student and
teacher, using the double meaning dialogues and sexual
innuendos are so sleazy. It is not necessary to project such
things onscreen which ultimately leads to cynicism. Because
of this, students are behaving worse while responding to
teachers and their respect for teacher in society will dip. Not
only the present generation but the impact also falls on the
coming generation.
No comments:
Post a Comment