Another Beginning by Keertana Kuchipudi, BSC, FSCCS, III Year 

Picture Credit: Special Arrangement

 ANOTHER BEGINNING

Shredding the robe of irresolution,

Suit up with resolution.

Burning to ashes - the despondence,

Rise up a phoenix - of desire.

Evading the gloom of benightment,

Enter the bliss of enlightenment.

Shedding the wings of fear,

Fly - a victor, into the new year.

 

Like Cricket Like Life by P. Navya Sri, BA, III Year

Picture Credit: Special Arrangement

LIKE CRICKET LIKE LIFE

I wish I were a batsman,

In my cricket-like life.

I wish I treat - as a ball in an over,

Any problem in my life.

I wish I do not end up - a run out,

As it is not just a game, but my life.

I wish to score a six or four,

Hitting at success through my problems.

I wish not to lose my wicket,

As it would be the end of life.

I wish to have the opportunity to play,

All my favorite parts of life.

I wish not to play for the audience,

But for self-assurance.

I Miss That Part Of Life by Rapolu Nancy, BBM, II Year

Picture Credit: Special Arrangement

I MISS THAT PART OF LIFE

When we talked -

It was like, I were talking to

A shining star at night.

 

When you taught me -

It was like a child, learning from a teacher.

When I were ill, you cared for me;

It was like a mother, taking care of a child.

 

When you annoyed me teasingly;

It was like a sister, fighting with another.

When I were fearful, you encouraged me,

And motivated me, to become stronger;

It was like a father, supporting a child,

In all of life’s situations.

 

When I were sad, you made me smile;

It was like a friend,

Changing my heart and mind.


You were, a beautiful gift of life!

But you haven't taught me,

How to live without you.


I miss you so much!

And I, shall carry you in my heart,

For the rest of my life.

So Close Yet So Far by Sandugula Yathirajasri, BSC, FNZC, III Year

Picture Credit: Special Arrangement

SO CLOSE YET SO FAR

So close, yet so far -

Like the Sun and the Earth we are!

I feel your eyes,

Assessing and absorbing my essence.

Yet I cannot meet your gaze,

Fearing I can no longer feign nonchalance.

You are always around,

Just within an earshot.

Yet I never take your name aloud,

For I can never again, say something so close to my heart.

You are just a few steps away,

Like the setting Sun, glowing on the horizon.

Yet I cannot let my feet sway,

For that surreal horizon is never close.

So close, yet so far - 

Like the Sun and the Earth we are!

 

My Secret Desire by T. Anurupa, BSC, MSCS, III Year

Picture Credit: Special Arrangement

MY SECRET DESIRE

You are my Luna and Solis,

Conferring on me the faith for a quotidian life.

You are my untold truth,

Cannot be disclosed to folk.

You are my beacon in a dark room,

Enlightening my soul with grateful potential.

You are my dream that haunts me every night,

Cannot be reached until you greet.

I Miss You by Snehitha Gudipati, BSC, MPCS, III Year

Photo Credit: Special Arrangement

 

I MISS YOU

 I miss them, dearest.

The spark in your eyes;

Every time I see them, 

I'm carried to another world.

I see them everyday, 

But the spark is lost.

I miss it.

The love in your words, was evident.

Magically, it was not only for me.

They are special to me.

I hear them, but I miss them.

I know.

I know that I am special to you,

I know that your love for me is unchanging.

Yet, I want to be loved -

Every minute, every second; 

Until my last breath.

The End - A New Beginning? by Prabha Tiwari, B.Com Regulars, 2A

Photo Credit: Special Arrangement

THE END - A NEW BEGINNING?

I retreated, the day I realized,

That here - I never belonged.

My haven was decided, 

And it wasn't this.

It was only me, in the void around.

Darkness, consuming my mind;

Terrible gloom, in it I drowned.

I closed my eyes,

As I recognized myself.

My power and potential,

My might and wherewithal.

My lips cast a smile,

As I graced on, ethereal.

After what seemed like an eternity,

I found what my soul longed for.

And now, I have reached Hamel - 

My haven.

I am here, it all seems real.

This, is a better place.

Better than the cruel world, 

I had to vacate.

This is my journey;

Was it an end, or 

Is it a new beginning?

My Emotional Support by P. Navya Sri, BA, III Year

Photo Credit: Special Arrangement

MY EMOTIONAL SUPPORT

Every day as I wake up,

I want you by my side.

You are the one that knows my emotions,

You offer love without conditions.

When I am by your side,

I fall in love for hugs so tight.

You're mine – a swain,

that belongs to me.

You’re not just a pillow,

as the world thinks so.

You, are my cute munchkin.

Enigma by Yathirajasri Sandugula, BSC, FNZC, III Year

Photo Credit: Special Arrangement

ENIGMA

I'm an enigma.

One part poetry, 

one part kindness, 

and 98: wilderness. 

It'll take a life time 

just to figure me out; 

leaving no time 

for anyone to contemplate. 

And that's okay.

It's more than okay!

I prefer being a mystery unloved,

 rather than solved to be loved.

 I'm an enigma

 and I intend to be so. 

 

Melting Memories by Deepshikha Patangay, BA II Year

 

Photo credit: Dr Jhilam Chattaraj

Melting Memories 

Primary schooling brought us together,

Though being classmates,

We never neglected each other.

High school changed our lives,

Though as classmates again,

We needed each other.

 

Friendship turned into an unbreakable bond,

No matter how many entered,

They failed to part us from each other.

Growing older in life,

We found our ways,

To stay with each other.

 

Kids who turned up into adults,

We saw the vision of tomorrow,

Of living with each other.

Daydreaming of something big,

The wild storm arrived,

To depart us from each other.

 

The journey came to an end,

Just like the way two sailors,

Who sailed the boats without each other.

Was it a mirage or fate?

Was it the past or the new venture?

That forced us to live without each other.

 

Wish! We lived up to the title,

"The Greatest Friends"

Just like Antonio and Bassanio,

Who stood beside forever.

But these feelings had to be buried,

Beneath the Earth forever.

 

Just like Behrman's last painting,

I pen down my feelings for one last time,

Paying a small tribute,

For the uncountable memories,

Which permits me to walk away from the past,

To start a new journey without her.

"Breeze and Blossom" - A Poem by Pitla Ruchitha

Breeze and Blossom

Nature is the plant that grows so tall.

Nature is the essence of beauty everywhere;

Nature is excitement and wonder that needs our care.

Nature is the blessed sight

Of the rolling hills at noontide,

The skittering squirrel and the bumble bee.

Nature is the eclipse—bright and piercing,

Or the gloomy one, with a silver lining.

Nature is heaven's reflected glory.

Nature is what we hear:

The Bobolink and the sea

Thunder, the cricket—

Nature's harmony!

                                    - Pitla Ruchitha (BA)

"I Am Not What You Want" - A Poem by Aishwarya Lakkakula

I Am Not What You Want

Seek me not in your heart.

Dig me not deep in your thought.

Darken me not with your dart,

Write to me not with your citrine font.

Touch me not to your nine day part,

Love me not for your desire—

For love is not what you want.

                               - Aishwarya Lakkakula (BA)

"Bangtan Bomb" - An Ode to BTS by Veda Sri

Art by Vedasri (BA)
Instagram: @_art_cart07_

Bangtan Bomb

Thank you for making me believe that I'm the one I should love 

And I promise that I won't let you down.

You are the cause of my euphoria,

The reason for my self reflection

And because of you my inner child always has a sweet night.

Whenever I listen to Daechwita I just dance without any fear,

Because you told me that we don't need permission to dance.

You are my wings, which make me fly;

You are my legs, which make me run.

You are my first love,

The one who told me I should spend my blood sweat and tears for myself and no one else.

So what if you don't know I exist?

Because I know when I go to the magic shop, 

You will always be there to hold me tight when I need you.

I know this isn't fake love because you are my idol who taught me to love myself.

                                                                                                         - Vedasri (BA)

"I Am A Girl" - A Poem by G. Sai Pranayanjali

I Am A Girl

I am a girl,

Brought into the world,
To only ever be perceived as a doll.

I am a girl.
No place in the world
Is constant for me.

I am a girl
In this vast ocean of democracy—
Locked up in spite of it.

I am a girl,
No person could bear
To call me theirs.

I am a girl,
Told to smile to be valued—

I wasn't valued for my heart,

I wasn't be respected for who I am.

                        - G. Sai Pranayanjali (BA)

"Melancholic" - A Poem by Hiranmayee Srinivasan

Melancholic

It seems blue everywhere,

like the bodies of the dead.

I seem to be scared of it,

as a child, of the boogeyman.

It urges me to doubt

the reality of this dreadful dream.

What is it that I bore

so seamlessly within my mind,

that hinders all the thoughts within?

Is this an end like Hamlet's tragedy?

Or am I the Abhimanyu in the Padmavyuha —

for my heart possesses no hope!

                                               - S Hiranmayee Srinivasan (BA)

"Epiphany" - A Poem by Tahreen Fatima

Epiphany

Take my hand and walk with me,

Trodding upon the autumn leaves.

Pause in front of an abandoned house,

Admire its chipped paint and overgrown vines.

Then walk through its open doors and enter a wonderland,

Discover new things, left behind.

A desk overflowing with test papers,

And another with scattered stationery.

The hall is a palette of colours,

The walls, a collection of fame.

Trophies and medals, all screaming victory,

Lab equipment seen in its adventurous glory.

Then we see the canteen with lunch boxes, all empty,

And a cute cat, strolling by.

As we reach to the exit, music overflows,

And fills the air with the fragrance of joys and sorrows.

Voices cheering on each other,

And some uttering farewells.

Showers of confetti and glitter on our last step out;

Ahead of us, another new world, waiting to be conquered.

Smiling through the tears we look back — Oh! how we've grown —

And realise, love, indeed, transforms a house into a home!

I had a lot to say and write,

But I hope this poem will suffice.

Because scary aren't the goodbyes,

'Cause they mean, "Take care, till we meet again!"

The people I've met here will forever be gems of that part of my life, in which I've transitioned from a teen to a young adult.

Every teacher, every friend, have been helpful and godsent lessons in life.

To my juniors, take life as it comes, but leave a path behind.

And never forget to be kind, it'll come back to you in unknown ways.

And to my batchmates, let's continue to become better versions of ourselves while learning to love ourselves.

Because we've learnt the hard way that people's opinions should never alter how we see ourselves!

To my lecturers, I wish there was a phrase stronger and more meaningful than "Thank You"

But nonetheless, I'd want you to know that you've helped us bloom and encouraged us to do things we never thought we could do!

May Allah keep us the same, all tied together with the bond of love and keep us safe, especially in the current situation of the world!

                                                         - Tahreen Fatima (BtCFs)

"Sorrow of Nature" - A Poem by Sahithi Cheapuri

Sorrow of Nature

This is the sorrow of Nature.

We've failed to recognise her selfless nature —

Her deep-rooted earth is terribly polluted,

Her wings of fresh air are broken,

Her green plant children are murdered,

Her wet eyed rivers are lamenting,

Her baby birds can't remember to chirp.

This is the sorrow of those feathers,

Which were brutally plucked by the butchers;

Those innocent creatures were weeping for their life,

Until their last breath under the butcher's knife.

The flowing water lets out a deep melancholic cry

As we heartlessly pollute the heart of a river;

And we still assume that we are clever.

Eventually we try to overpower her —

Her heart sunk in hopeless sorrow,

While we ruthlessly over use and borrow.

Her body is submerged in pollution;

At least now, we must think of a solution;

Let's stop the cruel destruction

And encourage green construction.

                                   - Sahithi Cheapuri (BA)

"A Birthday" - A Poem by Shaik Meera Saheba

A Birthday

The minute we are born we cause a family's happiness

And we live, commemorating the day each year by adorning new clothes,

Giving away chocolates and a celebratory handshakes,

Playing with friends during the early birthday parties

And stealing all the balloons decorating the walls,

Fighting siblings for that tempting piece of cake,

Blowing out candles and eating our favourite dish prepared by mom,

Playing musical chairs — all when we were children.

We grow up, only to miss all the fun.

                                                             -  Shaik Meera Saheba (BtCFs)

"The Truth" - A Poem by Aishwarya Lakkakula

The Truth

The very life beyond the Satyuga,

The very thirst beyond the Dharmachakraparivartana,

The very violence beyond the Satyagraha,

Is one - the Truth - a popular make up.

I am not Harischandra, Buddha or Gandhi.

It's me and to me,

The Truth is not selling the better half to the grave

As if that Half was not heartfelt but just a 'Rebecca'.

To me the Truth is not leaving the promised Rahul

As if it was the child's mistake to land in the cradle by himself.

To me the Truth is not hanging the revolution with a feather of dove

As if the bloody silence was to hoist the monarchical peace in the dark.

To me the Truth is to be Humane.

To me the Truth is to tie a cent-knot to the word.

To me the Truth is the Equilibrium of 'Do' and 'Say'.

Truth is that I hardly speak

As it is to me the Ban love for you in the Pacific trench of my heart

That the coy cannot be expressed now and ever.

                                      - Aishwarya Lakkakula (BA)

"Lockdown helped me give wings to my words" - An Article by Hiranmayee Srinivasan

The article "Lockdown helped me give wings to my words" by S. Hiranmayee Srinivasan was first published in Times of India, Hyderabad, Citizen: Reader's Corner on February 3, 2021

Lockdown helped me give wings to my words

There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story within you. – Maya Angelou

The coronavirus and the consequent lockdown were realities that none of us could ever imagine. However, for a person like me who has lived adventures, primarily in her mind, the sudden pause offered more time and space to relax and nestle between the unexplored terrains of my own self.

I have always wanted to learn many things but couldn’t do it, probably, because of lack of time or opportunities. This time, I figured out my interests. In the first few months, I took up a one-month certificate course on ‘My Captain’. I learned blogging, content writing, photography and got to know the basics of psychology, and also short film making through an App.

I met different people virtually, interacted with them, exchanged ideas, and gained quite an experience. Some months passed this way and slowly idleness started to consume me. I was not sure of what to do next. So, I decided to bring my new skills into action. I started a personal blog on my life experiences, lifestyle choices and also micro fiction.

At first, it was not easy for me to write down and edit my thoughts. It was time consuming and each post challenged my writing skills. I had to invest time in reading and improving my writing skills, I learnt things slowly and gradually and though errors are unavoidable, yet, I have learnt to rectify them with sincerity and humility. And today, because of my will and motivation, I am better at what I always wanted to do.

After 10 posts – seven on my life’s experiences and three fiction – I now have 23 followers. The blog has reached my friends, family and some other bloggers too.

I have also taken up sketching with pencil. Drawing and sketching were my childhood hobbies that brought me a balance of mind and body; peace and action and kept me away from over thinking. I am glad that the lockdown gave me a vision, a purpose, a passion to let my words take wings and bring back a positivity that can make me a better person.

                                                                                            - S. Hiranmayee Srinivasan (BA)

"Duality" - A Poem by Keertana Kuchipudi

Duality

She was a storm with the potential to calm,

She was melancholy that could make someone joyous.

She was chaos that could transfigure someone's life,

She was a melody that could invigorate someone's thoughts,

She was a spell that could liberate someone's soul.

                                                   - Keertana Kuchipudi (FsCCs)

"Her Semblance" - A Poem by T. Anurupa

Her Semblance

She is as beautiful as dayspring, but as scary as gloom.

Her voice is euphonious, and her heart is benign.

She is the voice to unknown tunes assembled by her soul.

She is a boost to others, but she needs to be cheered up.

She creates an aura of love, with the essence of eternity.

She is an enigma you crave for; she leaves you sleepless until you win her.

                                                      - T. Anurupa (MSCs)

"Would You Know?" - A Poem by Keertana Kuchipudi

Would You Know?

How will you know how wonderful joy is,

Unless you know how dreadful sorrow is?

How will you know how beautiful light is,

Unless you know how terrifying the dark is?

How will you know how blissful love is,

Unless you know how baneful hatred is?

How will you know how liberating clarity is,

Unless you know how incarcerating oblivion is?

How will you know how invaluable prudence is,

Unless you know how dispensable imprudence is?

                                                   - Keertana Kuchipudi (FsCCs)

"Without A Sound" - A Poem by Ciri Kovida

Without A Sound

Never made a sound, never made a noise.

Never knocked on my door, never took my permission,

You made your way into my life every single day.

Gleaming with joy, you wake me up, 

With your bright smile in an upward curve;

Making me realize there’s a bright day after every dark night.

I ask how you entreated me to leave the past and live in the present,

Without uttering a single word.

I ask you how you made your way even under sway,

Bringing in enough hope to last the entire day.

I ask how you radiated the warmth of a mother’s embrace

Without the melody of her song or her presence.

I ask how you left a mark on a lark,

And helped me embark my existence.

I ask you, ray of sunlight,

"Why do you enter my bound without a sound?"

                                                       - Ciri Kovida (BA)

"Revolution" - A Poem by Aishwarya Lakkakula

Revolution

Dark clouds collide with pride.

Lightning that gushes out of my perennial crown

Kisses my free hands, drenching them in the ichor of a scion.

I am proud that the white theft of milk from my dark breasts is bombed in red.

I am proud to be bathed in the burning blood of my youth.

I am proud that thine only love is this mother draped in the tricolour.

I am proud that thou shalt wed the bride of death to decorate the garland of martyrs.

Thy lion marches towards the end of the licking alien dogs at my feet.

Thy saffron graces through my crown of stars that shine to sacrifice.

"Jeena hai toh marna seekho,"

and your mother cries, " Inquilab Zindabad!"

                                                         - Aishwarya Lakkakula (BA)

Book Review of Ravi Theja's 'The Time Space Love Story' by Aishwarya Lakkakula

BOOK REVIEW

THE TIME SPACE LOVE STORY BY RAVI THEJA

The Time Space Love Story: A Metaphysical Romance

Review by Aishwarya Lakkakula

We often complain of insufficient time to complete our work and the optimists readily hit us with - "You and The Prime Minister have the same 24 hours in a day."

Now you have a punch-line to counter the clichéd statement, thanks to author Ravi Theja. You can just tell them that Mr. Aaradhy has 28 hours per day!


Aaradhy, the 19-year-old (but a 21-year-old) unique protagonist of the story "The Time Space Love Story" by Ravi Theja, experiences an awkward 28 hours per day. He starts experiencing a long day and a short night from the day he meets a friend, alone, in a field in his village at the age of eight. Inspired by his late engineer grandfather, Aaradhy aims to go to the city to pursue his passion for engineering. Here, he meets Pranav, who later turns out to be his best friend. One night, Aaradhy on his casual 1o minute walk (that is also 2-3 hours), sights a charming lass and falls in love with her. Later, he comes to know that Hima, the girl he loves, is none but a spirit! The story ends with a surprise, after their first and the last kiss ever.


Tighten your seatbelts. The Time Space Love Story takes you on an enthralling ride, along with the childhood innocence and the emotional teenage. Words are not enough to describe the excitement the readers feel when reading this book for the first time. Readers feel like they are in every scene along with the characters. The cinematic introduction of the heroine as she skips in a puddle, is worth mentioning.

The typical love-centric narrative is demonstrated by the protagonist, when he feels that everything on the earth seems to be nothing in comparison to their love and that the road that had shown him his love - is lifeless when compared to his charming beloved.

The poetic skills of the writer are scattered in the story with vivid and pretty phrases such as 'nature's great shower' and 'silent road', of which, the most attractive is the smiling math curve, that causes an involuntary smile to appear on the reader's face, the moment they read it.

I wonder if one has to be an engineer to pen down a story as creative as Ravi Theja's 'The Time Space Love Story'. The concept of S.P.I.R.I.T. is beyond the confines of an ordinary mind! The author breaks the walls of stereotypical male-dominant storytelling and makes the male protagonist helpless and lets him cry, whereas the knowing female protagonist is seen with an immortal smile; though the tradition of depicting a woman as a spirit is classically continued.

The leads are grateful to their writer for naming them Aaradhy and Hima. These names seem unique and rare, unlike the usual names we come across in various forms of storytelling.


The Time Space Love Story runs in playful and colloquial language, moulded colourfully yet, not enough to please the readers that prefer sophisticated language. The irony of the writer being an atheist yet, thanking God in the voice of a character for giving him a good friend, proves his capacity of storytelling which marks him as one of the greatest storytellers of today.

"Meant to Be" - A Poem by Keertana Kuchipudi

Meant to Be

We were a dream, beautiful momentarily;

Intense as we unfolded, tangled as we moved ahead.

Bound by improbabilities, striving to clear complexities;

Keeping at bay imprudence, yet turning naïve in company.

We weren’t meant to deliver a meaning, we were only meant to be;

Unfinished as we are, improbable as it had always been.

With beauty in uncertainty, hope in vanity;

Passion in sensuousness, emotions in soulfulness —

We were meant to be.

                                                                 - Keertana Kuchipudi (FsCCS)

"Few Lines" - A Poem by Aishwarya Lakkakula

Few Lines

These few lines make me realize
That one day, I am to become a stranger;
When we become no one to each other.


These few lines hide underneath the tip of my soldier's eye.
They flow at the rate of my menstrual blood,
Strike me with a dying kick in my womb.


These few lines are the cigar to the ashes of infinite-half
That are sensationless and faint to the full-stop,
Yet to pierce through Othello, craves the lady with a lamp.


These few lines drop lifelessly, like feathers from my six-half inched hackle
That cry in letters worthless of thy mercy;
Love is ever gay if pure but a bane with no cure.

                                                                                   - Aishwarya Lakkakula (BA)

"Not Much of a Race" by Priya Dey

Not Much of a Race

Life is the practice of accepting the reality of a situation and being prepared to deal with it.

Life is extravagant and lived in hope of negotiating the prosaic world, welcoming life or accepting it convivially to ensure that you proclaim your spirit.

Life is innocuous; experiencing the best parts of it will make you genial.

But life seems increasingly remote from reality.
The more graphic reality seems to be, the more it drives life to the truth, and exemplifies life according to your own morals and virtues.


Experience life, be inspired, be original and give your spirit the light of hope. Don't be impatient, things will go right when you trust yourself and the almighty.

Yes, some situations may seem to punish your existence, but every problem has a solution, so elaborate your consciousness. Design your own adventures, fulfil your desires and walk sagaciously.

Life is an open book so pick your pen up, use it as your weapon, stand upright and give your desires an alluring significance.

Have Desire's perspective on discouragement. Resolve the apparent conflict between fear and confidence.


Trust humanity, be practical.
The more you fall, the more you learn.
The more you experience, the more you create.
Then, you can claim that life is astonishing: that life teaches us. It motivates, it emphasizes and surprises.

Live and laugh freely, follow your passions unapologetically, because your life is just the way you think. Detach all the malignant thoughts, progress securely and safely.

                                     

                                                                                                                            - Priya Dey (MECs)

"The Closet" by Anisha Bodapati

The Closet 

I’ve been trying to clean out the closet. 

The chicken scratch from the toddler I had been; with horrendous spelling and horrifying grammar but imagination that couldn’t be bothered by either. 

The tiny teeth from when the tooth fairy was broke. 

The dusty remnants of notebooks with mockery in its final pages. 

The wristbands and tracks from when I had the time to be physically active. 

The memories and dried out roses, and pens I’ve never used. 

The different personalities held at the back, somewhere in its wooden boards. 

The dried out nail polish from when I bit every last millimeter of its canvas and replaced it with bloody cuticles. 

Gifts from a tiny admirer from school, who is turning out to be more like me every day, much to my joy and her mother’s dismay. 

This time I reach for the textbooks with very bad language scribbled in the margins. Some words mine, and the others in three distinct styles that I recognize. 

Notebooks either full of information, or of bored doodles and miniature masterpieces of classroom art. 

Scores of books that I’ve read and revered behind dozens that I have yet to read. 

At the front, a wisdom tooth I was weird enough to keep.

At the back, somewhere in Narnia,

There is still a part of me.

                                                                   - Anisha Bodapati (BtCFs)