"Every Talk in It's Humour" - Report of the BA Orientation Program by Syeda Mariya

"Every Talk in It's Humour" — a virtual orientation session filled with love, laughter and learning was organised by the Department of English and Foreign Languages, for the students of B.A. on the 7th of December 2020.

The pandemic has restricted everyone including the teachers and the students to their homes but it couldn't hamper their determination to give the freshers of B.A., a warm and hearty welcome, and acquaint them with the department.

    

The online orientation programme commenced at 3:00 p.m. with a welcoming note by the hosts of the programme, Hiranmayee & Ciri of B.A. final year, followed by the introduction of the Head of Department of English and Foreign Languages, Suchitra Ma'am, by Leena & Supriya of B.A. second year.

    

The coordinator of the programme and  faculty member, Jhilam Ma'am comforted, cheered & encouraged the students with her charming words & graceful presence.

The "Quills Literary Club"— a significant part of the Department of English & Foreign Languages, was  spoken about by Syeda Mariya of B.A. second year, followed by a mesmerizing poetry dance performance by Sahithi of B.A. final year and Pranayanjali of B.A. second year on 'Trapped' by Veda Sri of B.A. final year.

The programme consisted of a series of speeches by the teachers as well as students regarding the activities of the department. The students also spoke about their personal experiences with the college and the faculty members.

Final year and second year students ensured that the programme was not mundane & thoroughly entertaining for their juniors by organising various games, cultural and dance performances in the course of the event, and interacted with the first years to make them feel comfortable throughout the programme.

The beautiful poetry recitation by Aishwarya of B.A. second year left everybody in amazement.

An interactive session was conducted towards the end of the programme in order to communicate with the freshmen and have their feedback.

The programme concluded with a vote of thanks by Pooja of B.A. final year.

Certainly, the final and second year students worked hard in collaboration to make the event a success.

"Truth of Our Love" - A Poem by G. Sai Pranayanjali

Truth of Our Love

You came into my world like a dream,

Turned it as beautiful as you are.

You are the beauty in nature:

Your smile, breezy as the wind

That fades my loneliness away;

Your eyes, bright as the light

That gives me confidence.

Your words, wise as the trees

That make me stronger with positivity;

Your care, like the evergreens,

Reminds me that there's someone waiting for me.

Your heart is the sun

That reminds me that you are a part of my life.

Your love, like oxygen,

Breathes life into me.

Your presence awakens me,

Professing that this isn't a dream,

But the truth of our love.

                                - G. Sai Pranayanjali (BA)

"Null" - A Poem by G. Sai Pranayanjali

Null

No matter what happens,

People will always

Make false statements

To fake forever.

No reasons, no arguments;

But those cold fights,

Widening the distance between them,

Only to lose themselves for ever.

No pain, no cure.

Constantly hurting each other with their actions,

Founding their relation on misunderstandings

To be remembered forever.

No love, no care.

Hating as if they had never loved,

Making their paths divide

To be free forever.

                                     - G. Sai Pranayanjali (BA)

"Epilogue" - A Poem by Tahreen Fatima

Epilogue

The silver moonlight shined through the window, 

Luring me out of my bed. 

Sleepily, I watched the silent show, 

Of the twinkling stars, and the darkness people dread. 

The hooting of an owl and the flapping wings of a bat, 

The chilly breeze, whistling through the trees. 

The dark clouds hovering by, 

And the glimmering stars in the sky. 

An aurora then wiped out the darkness —

A pleasure to a soul in distress. 

The changing colours, a plethora of feelings: 

Sorrow, joy, fear and brave awakenings. 

Uncountable mistakes, made without a second thought, 

Now I see how hard my soul fought. 

A war between wants and wrongs, 

Intensified with unheard songs. 

Childhood and teenage - the wonder phases of life, 

Adulthood, as I realised, is the phase in which we strife. 

The show ended, leaving me dumbfounded, 

I stood still with my feet firmly grounded. 

A minute ago, I was just a child;

Now, I’m an adult, chasing dreams in the wild! 

                                                                - Tahreen Fatima (BtCFs)

"My Cup of Coffee" by Veda Sri

 

My cup of coffee 

Every day, I crave for you. 

You’re the reason people call me suave. 

You’re my partner on sleepless nights, 

and companion on busy mornings. 

You keep me warm during Christmas time, 

and I confess that you were my love at first sight. 

Even though you are bitter, 

you make my memories sweeter. 

I thought love wasn't my cup of tea, 

but now I know that it's definitely my cup of coffee. 

                                                                 - L. Veda Sri (BA)

"In The Air" by Tirumala Tejasri

In The Air

They said love was in the air 

How could it be? 

I couldn’t smell it. 

The rising sun couldn’t banish the chill in the air. 

I hugged myself for warmth and nodded 

To the chirping melodies from my balcony—

Greetings from bird to bird before they flew in hope to touch Heaven.

Then the sky broke to wet the roads, 

A pack of dogs huddled together to protect each other from the rain. 

I heard a baby cry in my neighbour’s house 

Her mother held her in her arms 

And spoke of dreams and the sky and the rain. 

The baby’s smile was warm enough to change my mind. 

Love is abstract and endless.

Love is in everything that lives and doesn't. 

Love is in the air.

                                                     - Tirumala Tejasri (BtCFs)

"Mount Sinai" - A Poem by Christina Joyce Kotha

 

Mount Sinai

Dark sky, twinkling stars; 

'Twas like a never ending journey to Mars. 

Chilly air, giant rocks 

On the path I trekked, wearing Crocs. 

Stopped by the tiny wooden tea spots, 

Where ancient lovers drew many hearts. 

That place gave me utmost warmth, 

Especially when an Egyptian offered me some broth. 

When I reached the top of the mountain, 

It made my heart gush like a fountain. 

Gazing at the moon so near, 

Made that moment extremely dear. 

Learning about the ancient glory, 

Every other thing was nugatory. 

As I walked down from the mountain top, 

The beauty of the sun rise made me stop. 

Thanking God for his splendid creation, 

I wanted to stay there for generations. 

My heart was filled with so many memories, 

That became the cornerstones of wonderful stories. 

Thus, it was one heaven of a ride 

On Mount Sinai. 

                                                - Christina Joyce (BtCFs)

"Because It's You" - A Poem by Sahithi Cheapuri

Because It's You

My day begins with your beautiful name,

and it will forever remain the same.

I thank the almighty everyday,

for your presence in my gloomy day.

My life is filled with your spark,

that my heart accepted as an ever-fixed mark.

The happiness you bring leaves me spellbound.

In that state, I forget the world around.

My life is blessed with the essence of your presence.

With you I live a little more,

I'll love and trust you until I can't any more.

                                                              - Sahithi Cheapuri (BA)

"Truth" - A Poem by Tahreen Fatima

 

Truth

Truth is like the Sun. 

Although it drowns for the night, 

It will rise the next morning 

And shine again. 

Truth is also a lot like Love. 

Often difficult to find. 

But when found, 

Impossible to forget. 

Truth speaks— 

without a tongue, 

without a voice. 

And truth reveals, 

The human crying beneath the very smile you wear; 

Or the monster lingering within your loved one. 

Truth is not just a bed of roses, 

So learn to embrace the thorns. 

Truth is the shadow that dances 

Forever, from dusk till dawn. 

Truth is the only virtue that does both—

Hurts and Heals. 

Hurts the Heart, 

Heals the Soul!

                                                    - Tahreen Fatima (BtCFs)

"Manisha" by Tasleem Fathima

Manisha 

What's the use of making so many highways when there isn't a single street in India where women can roam freely?

What's the use of so many schemes made by the system, when the system itself fails to give justice to the victim?

What happened with Manisha was the death of humanity. The culprits aren't from another planet, they live in the same place we belong.

They could be one of our relatives.


Don't wait for any administration to introduce one more void document to deal with these incidents. Instead, we’ll deal with this ourselves.

Yes we can! But how?

Let not the fire of Manisha's body cool down. Let it burn until the dark night fades out, giving way to natural enlightenment. Let's be the one percent change we want to bring in the society.

Irrespective of your gender, teach your grandfather, father, brother, uncle, professor, boyfriend, colleagues to respect women. If they don't care about that, then tell them to value their own life which came out of a vagina, that belongs to the same community where another woman was raped and received no justice. Where the victim would be remembered as another abused vagina.

Eventually the one percent change will sum up to a hundred, creating a peaceful society to live where everyone is Human. 

                                                                                                           - Tasleem Fathima (MSCs)

"Stargazed" by Sunena Kawle

Stargazed

There were so many questions

How to do it?

Am I capable?

Is it worth it?

The society, my family?

Hesitancy, doubt, fear

Now constant companions,

I gathered my courage

Even as my soul was anxious.

I went on the mat

I fought and wrestled,

I came out, lost and beaten:

Thirteen seconds was all it took.

Days turned into weeks,

Weeks into months.

They are now a collection of

Scars and bruises,

Old and new.

I went onto the mat again,

Willful and ambitious;

I came out

Stargazed and victorious.

                                             - Sunena Kawle (BA)

"The Gordian Knot" by Aishwarya Lakkakula

 

The Gordian Knot 

She ties a knot 

with a snake in the grass. 

She steps in a water—

Sharks waiting in hunger. 

Her life is a feast 

for the vultures waiting for her to sleep. 

Her nine days' wonder 

Ends with a flash of thunder! 

Her blood is sucked 

and the bones are crushed. 

Her breast is burnt 

and the womb is raped. 

No part of her is left—

even the least. 

The music is faced and the bullet is bitten. 

Only because the knot is tied! 

The knot is tied 

to rape her. 

The knot is tied 

to crush her. 

The knot is tied 

to kill her. 

The strength of the three knots, 

I wonder! 

Stronger than a Gordian knot! 

And her seventh heaven never comes back... 

Departing, not to have a way back.

                                                    - Aishwarya Lakkakula (BA)

"A Sigh of Relief" by Ciri Kovida

 

A Sigh of Relief

One September night, my younger brother and I were home alone when my parents were out of town which gave us a reason to pull an all-nighter watching movies. So, we started preparing for a movie marathon and ordered a pizza with extra cheese. We picked movies of the thriller, crime, horror and mystery genres.

We started watching the first movie while waiting for the pizza. The volume was on 80, the ambiance was dark and so was the movie. We were so indulged in the movie that we didn’t realize an actual killer broke into our apartment complex and started shedding the blood of the residents. The whole place was filled with cries of fear while we were clueless.

Suddenly I received a phone call from my friend and paused the movie for a while to talk to her; that’s when I heard the loud screams of the residents. I opened the door and peaked at second floor through the stairway railing.

I saw a person holding a knife, blood dripping from its edge. He was covered from head to toe in black clothes and a black skull cap. He started heading up to third floor leaving blood stained footprints behind.

We lived on the third floor.

I was uptight and filled with apprehension. I rushed back to my apartment and closed the main door, asked my younger brother, who was still unaware of the situation outside, to lock himself in the bathroom while I went to hide myself in my room. I took my phone and called the police and stammered anxiously about the killer. Not a second later, I heard a huge thud on the front door which gave me chills.

After a while, I heard the killer break open the door. We had switched the lights off before playing the movie, so the house was dark, with the mystery movie running in the background as the killer entered.

He placed his bloodied knife on the dining table and started approaching the bathroom where my younger brother was hiding. Fearing for his safety, I mustered up the courage to come out of my room, and noiselessly grabbed a spoon from the dining table and tossed it towards the kitchen to distract the killer. He stopped walking and I took the chance to take the knife that he left on the table and rush back to my room and lock the door.

Covered in sweat and frightened, I followed my instincts and hid the knife in one of the shoe boxes in my cupboard. The killer started hitting the door to enter my room, and that’s when the sound of the police siren was heard and the banging on the door stopped. I still didn’t open the door. Instead, I switched on the lights and started searching for the knife I hid in the shoe box. I rummaged through all the shoe boxes but I still couldn’t find it.

I was too late. Someone opened my door.



Then I heard my mom scolding me about making a mess.

I was in a state of confusion for few seconds and then I realized that my mom had opened the door.

Reality hit me hard, when I realized that it was all a dream. I breathed a sigh of relief, sat on my bed and started pondering on how a dream could be so real that I actually started scattering my shoe boxes, searching for the knife without knowing that I was already awake. Though it was a dream, I experienced the fear of losing my loved ones and trust me when I say that that feeling is the worst.

I wiped the sweat off my face and started cleaning my room with my mom nagging me in the background. I laughed at the fact that my dream was so unrealistic that no one on the first and second floors thought of calling the police, but then again, our dreams are meant to make us the protagonists.

My dreams have always been incredibly vivid. And the fun fact is that this dream occurred when I took a 20 minute nap!

                                                                                                                          - Ciri Kovida (BA)

"I Wonder What We Find in an Empty Classroom!" by Hiranmayee

 

I Wonder What We Find in an Empty Classroom!

School and college experiences become more fun and exciting only when the classroom is filled with a crowd.

The first time we enter an empty classroom, a whole lot of confusion, anxiety, excitement and enthusiasm occupy the chairs.


It begins when we start speaking as strangers. Then, start knowing each other. The relationship starts blooming, we first become classmates then friends. We start sharing and caring. We then start bothering each other. We play, prank, learn and live.

The classroom, on the entry of our friendship, wipes the older emotions we felt. 

Friendship occupies not only our seats but also our teachers' hearts. Between our teachers and us is the most precious relationship that we often forget to notice. They teach. They scold. They shout. They laugh, have fun and support and share. They hold thousands of hands and yet stand still and strong.

"Did I ever thank them?"

That still stands a question that I would never like to answer. I would never like to let go.


Days pass, months flee; the years spent together are never forgotten. We never knew we were hiding a treasure which could never be stolen. We seldom realized we were making memories that would be hidden forever inside the classroom.

And when we look back, years later, "I wonder what we find in an empty classroom!"

                                                                                                                      - Hiranmayee (BA)

"Life-Line" A poem by Aishwarya

Life-Line

Life is not a line, long and straight,

It is a segment, cut short.

It is a two-page book of birth and death

Where experiences are written with many a letter,

Emotions are painted with many a colour,

Passing clouds are reds and blues —

Where blues are downpours in floods

And reds are rains in the desert sands.

                                         -    Aishwarya (BA)

"Don't Bother" by Tahreen Fatima

Don't Bother

You think I'm stupid because I can't converse with people I've just met

But, I've never wanted to be one in any kind of gathering.

Yes, I'm awkward even around my cousins.

I grew up as the oldest girl in my family, who didn't have any friends in the neighbourhood.

As I advanced into teenage and neared adulthood, I was forced to mingle with people and spark conversations with guests I met once in many years.

I was forced, not just because I needed to have good social manners rather than just keeping to myself (which, by the way, is considered rude),

I was forced because otherwise people would give a negative tag to my personality. 

Keeping to myself and not getting involved in family fun, is considered a poisonous thought.

I've learnt that people will call you timid and sometimes, emotionless, if you stay aloof.

Sometimes, I do mingle with my close family and friends,

Only after convincing myself that it's okay to be different.

But it's not me who needs convincing, it's the people who try to change me.

I've learnt the hard way that every person perceives things differently.

When I've allowed myself to accept people's personalities as they are, can't they accept the mere fact that I am different from them?



They are cool with being the center of attention.

I am not.

They're okay with playing any kind of game with anyone.

I am not.

They're bold when they speak their mind, even if they're wrong.

Whereas, I can't even speak my mind without getting judged for thinking differently, or knowing more than other people do.

They have many friends.

And I'm called awkward and stupid for having few friends.

Let me tell you,

The few I have are truer than the ones you talk to.

Yet, people are always trying to change me.



I don't like being too friendly with anyone.

Don't push me to do that.

I have a dark, different sense of humour.

Don't try to pull me to the other side.

I'm awkward around people I've known since birth.

Don't ask me for reasons.

I do sit around and play along with people I know well.

Just don't tell me to talk more.

You do know that I'm always aloof and silent.



You may also think I'm emotionless.

But what you don't know is,

My heart is filled with all kinds of emotions, threatening to burst out.

I keep my thoughts to myself, because I'm afraid of the fact that people will judge me for being different.

My mind is way more talkative than your mouth.

I'm happy in solitude and I like talking to myself.



But now, it's not my turn to understand.

It is yours to accept me for who I am and not try to mould me into what you want.

Because you can strike only when the iron is hot.

I'm a complete, shining sword.

I'm an introvert, not awkward.

So, don't bother changing me!

                                                                                                                 - Tahreen Fatima (BSc BtCFs)

"Let Her Breathe" - A Poem by P. Keerthi Chandrika

Let Her Breathe

An innocent little baby, smelt the earth;

Is my birth a curse? An impurity?

Started fighting a war till my last breath;

The same war that every little girl had to fight.


Why the placards, slogans, marches?

Through how many generations must they be carried?

Let me breathe for once, not suffocated by the society.

My dreams were burned to ashes in the name of security.


God created beautiful lives, no rules.

The shameless society created walls,

Declared me weak.


Present me as a police officer, a pilot, a teacher, a doctor,

The President, an IAS officer, a nurse, a CEO, a farmer, an army officer, a caretaker.

This me has fought against the strong walls,

And stood as the world’s role model.


Never underestimate her dreams because she is a girl.

Don’t just save a girl child,

Let her breathe and be free and achieve her goals;

Destroy the unnecessary walls the society created. 

                                              -P. Keerthi Chandrika (BSc MSCs)

"The Beautiful Past" - A Poem by Shaik Meera Saheba

The Beautiful Past 

If you leave my thoughts, 

I could be free.

You remind me of a cup of tea—

Warm, like you used to be.

But to me, you are 

Like the waves in the sea: 

Letting you go 

Is setting myself free. 

                                                 - Shaik Meera Saheba (BtCFs)

"Sorrow of Birds" - A Poem by Sahithi Cheapuri

 

Sorrow of Birds 

This is the sorrow of birds

For which, I truly have no words.

We’ve cut down trees, decreased greenery

And built to increase the ‘concrete scenery’;

We strove to develop telecommunication,

But ignored the death of birds due to radiation.

The birds are weeping for their life,

Please don’t let them fall prey to the scythe.

Stand up against destruction, increase afforestation;

Remember the birds — make a resolution.

                                                                          - Sahithi Cheapuri (BA)

"They Call It Love" - A Poem by Mariya Fatima

They Call It Love

I am battling with it:
Every minute, every second, every moment of my life;
It is slowly and steadily dripping—
Dripping into my blood, mixing with it;
Entering my nerves and veins, travelling
All over my body, from the heart to the brain.

It's paining; I feel like I might fall apart
It’s paining as if someone has stabbed me in my heart.
I keep running away from it; I don't want to face it
Because the pain is unbearable,
Now that it has entered every cell of my body;
It pricks me to the very core.

I try to escape, to run away as far as possible,
But it ain't that easy;
Because every time I try to run, it drags me to itself.
I can never predict when it's coming,
As it creeps up suddenly, within no time
Making me feel worse with every breath of mine.

And I, I find myself helpless; 

I try to part myself from it,
But it seems never ending;
I cannot describe it enough:
It is much more than grief & pain.
But they, they call it love.

                                       - Mariya Fatima (BA 1^st year)

"My Amour" - A Poem by Nisha Simons

My Amour

Behold his dreamy eyes, they shine

And glitter and glint: an unforgettable sight.

Fascinated and marvelled at such a sight,

I wondered if love started just in time.


Yon adorable eyes I would go mad for—

But I realised, it was just a fervent dream.

The day brought whispers to my ears,

And I heard the whispers of my amour.

                                            - Nisha Simons (BA 2^nd year)

"The Silent Screams" - A Poem by Asfiya Khanam

The Silent Screams


It was time for me to go to bed;
The weather was good; and I, in a cool, pretty shed
Switched off the lights, was waiting for the dawn,
Extremely excited to meet my best friend in a beautiful lawn.

Then the rain got heavier, winds were high—
That was the time for me to die.
I wished to meet her once before I go
And then I heard the dead bodies start to flow.

She completed me; I was a whole,
She was the one with whom I bound my soul.
I was screaming loud that night,
My life was dark, I wasn’t ready to fight.

My heart was bleeding, I was frightened;
I lost everything and my life can never be brightened,
I heard the screams and they were loud,
I started to weep, then I heard the clash of cloud

Nothing was left other than hope
The only thought stuck was, “Should I elope?”
I screamed so loud that I started to cough
And that was a dream that I dreamt of.

                                                                          -Asfiya Khanam (BtCFs 3^rd year)

"A Letter To Upma" - by Aishwarya Lakkakula

A Letter to Upma

    
                                                                                               - Aishwarya Lakkakula (BA 1^st year)


To:

Upma
Kitchen Colony,
Upma Nilayam.


Subject: Request an unending holiday.

Dear Upma,

Beating upon my doll-drums in the acquaintance of mosquito bites, I, the habitual victim of your suicidal attacks during my late mornings, on behalf of all the little patsies, am here to request you to show mercy upon our tiny innocent tummies, for they are bored of digesting you.

A complaint has been registered in the brain by the Department of Food and Digestion, claiming that they might lose the capacity of digesting sophisticated food, if they are provided with only upma. Also, the heart now forgets to sing its tune: instead of 'lub-dub' 'lub-dub', it beats 'upma' 'upma'. All is upma: the blood and the bones. Be it the heart or the brain, every nook and cranny of our body is in vain. Your dance in our plates is everlasting. You are our mothers’ favourite, even more than our younger brothers! Once you were a guest, but now, you aren't welcome. Listen, we want you to be just a rare visitor, leaving us to other yummy friends!

I hope that we have reached the climax of our breakfast drama. Book a ticket to a haunted house in a distant land for a long, boisterous, never-ending vacation, and serve yourself to the ladies in white! Fare you well and kindly get lost, because we want to taste a lot!
Awaiting your departure,


Yours Lovingly,
Upma Go Away Association.

"The Favourite Chapter of My Book" - A Poem by Asfiya Khanam

The Favourite Chapter of My Book

My life is an untold story, a book;
You took over and gave it the perfect look.
The unturned pages are now read as a beautiful tale,
I have won you and you have never let me fail.


You gave meaning to my life, wings to my flight,
The charm to my vision and the spark to my light;
The melody to my music, the blueprint of my hardest mile,
The strength to my wisdom and the beauty to my smile.


I am blessed to be blessed with the best;
You would be the highest score I would get if my life was a test.
Cheers to the book whose chapters tell about you
You are my little world and the happiness you deserve is due.

I have you all! What else do I need?
You are the sweetest fruit of my garden, indeed.
Can't thank you enough for holding on tighter when I asked to leave me alone,
It's you because of whom the breeze of happiness is being blown.


Let our bond always be the strongest of all;
You always held my hand and never let me fall.
My partner, you have never let me down,
If I am the queen, then you are my proud crown.


                                                                                      - Asfiya Khanam (BtCFs 3^rd year)

Pandemic Literature: "The Biohazard" - Flash Fiction by Veda Sri

The Biohazard

Dylan had worked at Hawkins labs for as long as he could remember. The scientists were weird and awkward and it wasn’t a pleasant place to work at, but the pay was good and he never complained.

He was walking through the corridors when he heard hushed voices in one of the biosafety labs. He inched closer to the door to listen.

“The authorities asked us not to tell anyone. And, it was Paul’s fault that the new virus got out.”

“They knew that COVID-19 could spearhead the end of the world. It was their fault for not giving him better equipment to handle it. Now, he’s dead.”

Dylan backed away to the opposite wall with fear. He didn’t know who else was infected in Hawkins labs. He wanted to run away but he had to stay for the sake of the people. They didn’t deserve to die because of one mistake in a lab. He went back to the door again to listen.

“…they are helping. The research labs made and stored the antidote for the infected employees.”

Dylan heard footsteps from the other side of the door, so he made his way quickly towards the research wing. The researchers had left for lunch and the labs were empty. He searched for the antidote in the virology research lab and he found the stock in storage. He stole one unit.

The entry and exit logs would note the irregularity in his shift time if he sneaked out, so he had to wait till the end of his shift to leave.

Dylan made it out of the lab without being noticed and handed the antidote over to the government along with the information that he overheard.

They say not all superheroes wear capes, and Dylan made everyone believe it. 


                                                                                                   - Veda Sri (BA 2^nd year)

Book Review of W. Bruce Cameron's 'A Dog's Purpose' by H. Laxmi Priyanka

BOOK REVIEW

A DOG’S PURPOSE BY W. BRUCE CAMERON

Review by H. Laxmi Priyanka

Touching and heartfelt in equal measure, W. Bruce Cameron’s “A Dog’s Purpose” is an ode to the love shown by our canine friends to their owners or to the ones who take care of them, all of it told through the canine’s point of view. The writer’s puppy protagonist takes the readers on a journey through its multiple lives. More than just another charming dog story, this touches on the universal quest for an answer to life’s most basic question — Why are we here?

The book starts with the pup being born as a stray that has his first interaction with humans in a dog hoarder’s yard. There he learns how to love people but his happiness is short-lived when Animal Control arrives and deems the stray puppies “unadoptable”.  After being euthanized, he is surprised to find himself reborn as a golden-retriever named Bailey, the beloved pet of eight-year-old Ethan. During their countless adventures together, Bailey not only risks his life to save Ethan but also learns the satisfaction of being a “good dog” and after years of devotion to this boy, he is sure of having fulfilled his purpose. But when he awakes again in a new female-canine body, she realizes that she still has a long way to go in her journey.

W. Bruce Cameron’s exploration of the world through the eyes of our canine friends is very beautiful and clever in its humorous touches – Bailey’s conclusions that cats cannot be trusted and horses are completely unreliable, etc., are hilarious in their own ways. This novel forces the readers to reflect on their past pets and the time spent with them, but its greater triumph may lie in changing the way readers think about their current pets.

Lastly, I would like to say that having read this amazing book reminds me of the times I spent with my last dog Locket, who died of cardiac arrest, only to be reborn and come back to me in the form of Maya, my current dog. What a gift!

A Dog’s Purpose is definitely a beautiful celebration of our four-legged friends with big hearts.

Pandemic Literature: "The Hunger Pandemic" - A Poem by Aishwarya Lakkakula

The Hunger Pandemic

The clock struck six,

Painting the sky in a blue-black mix.

The town shined so bright,

Bathing in the silent street light.

The blood-fleshed robots on the roads,

Were busy driving their costly Fords.

I sat lonely in the Gokul Chat,

Typing away in a WhatsApp chat.

On hearing a soft whine and a ‘bow-wow’

I made up my mind to look around.

Skimming across the cigarette smog,

My eyes encountered a grey stray dog.

It neither had chubby cheeks,

Nor food since the past few weeks.

The dog was looking thin and pale,

Reminding me of a poor man in a moral tale.

Its food was at the mercy of a daily customer,

Who was sure to save some leftovers.

The dog was hungry and eager,

To get his paws on the leftovers.

The day came to an end,

And I had a new, grey friend.

The clock strikes four,

Painting the sky in a blue-white pour.

The roads are quiet in a formerly busy town

That now, sleeps in lockdown.

I was alone on the roads,

Shocked to see no more Fords.

Lo! I see the grey face,

Lying down in the same place.

It's the dog!

My friend, my friend... I was frightened.

But the dog wasn’t eager to eat leftovers;

It was neither moving nor barking.

The dog died of hunger,

Having stuffed its mouth with a polythene cover.

I let my heart weep silently

And imagined it was just asleep.

This lock-down succeeded in tackling the pandemic

But failed to fight the Hunger Pandemic.

Novel Coronavirus is an extreme danger,

That eats away at the life of a pauper.

                                                                        - Aishwarya Lakkakula (BA 1^st year)