"Warriors" - A Poem By Nitheesha Reddy, BA II Year

Picture Credit : Special Arrangement 

For us, they were at the border,

Who never broke their orders,

And were always ready to sacrifice their life,

So that we can live a safe life.

We always found them in olive green,

And assumed as if it was their skin,

They never knew the difference between day and night,

As they were always ready to face a fight.

They gave our country, a surety of life,

And remained unaware of their own life.

We celebrated festivals with our family,

And their celebration was seeing their family.

Lights and crackers are part of our Diwali,

And firing guns became a part of their Diwali.

While we play with different colours on holi,

They have red as the sign of pure love for the country.

"Diwali" - A Poem By Prakarshitha Borra, BA II Year 

Picture Credit : Special Arrangement 

The festival of prosperity,

The victor of light over darkness,

The good over the evil minds,

And the strength over the weakness.

The festival of positivity,

The smiles on their faces.

The joy from father's gifts,

And the fun of the kids.

The festival to eat yummy items,

Prepared by our MasterChef women.

The smell of the delicious items,

Pulls us towards the kitchen.

The bond of every relationship,

Especially the kids with their grandparents. 

Together they make innocent faces,

After they secretly taste sweets from the boxes.

The pure joy and smiles of the kids,

Sparkling with happiness,

And the innocent panic in tiny faces,

As they fire the crackers. 

The festival of traditions,

With wholesome lights.

Our country looks like a celebration,

From the space on Diwali night.

 "Soldier" - A Poem By Swaroop Kanwar, BA II Year 

Picture Credit : Special Arrangement 

On the peak of the snowy hills,

In the hot winds of the great desert,

Along the thundering waves of the deep ocean,

You are guarding the whole nation.

Eyes of every Indian are filled with pride,

By seeing the waving tricolour so high,

You have left everything behind,

So that the nation is always alive.

You are the champion,

Who loved the country so purely,

That every Indian fell in the 

Love for the country so heartly.

"SHE  – A Powerful Being" - A Poem By Swaroop Kanwar, BA II Year 

Picture Credit :  Special Arrangement

She whose power was acknowledged,

She was underestimated many times.

He who taught she was weak,

He  was the one defeated by her.

She can be as calm as a tranquil ocean,

She can also be as threatening as a cyclone.

She can be as delicate as a flower,

She can also be as strong as a mountain.

She who makes the world complete,

She who is his strength of him.

He who is prosperous because of her,

And he who is incomplete without her.

She has the power to conquer the world,

She is the incarnation of  a Goddess.

She is the prettiest form of life,

And she has the power to give life.

"Life Of A Bibliophile"  - A Poem By Deepshikha Patangay, BA III Year

Picture Credit :  Special Arrangement

Always surrounded by books,
Living in the fantasy world.
Too many stories I read and,
Too many emotions I feel.
"Where is a break?", life asked,
Who needs a break?
When you have a book to read,
And a coffee in your hand!

"Last Few Words" - A Narrative by Prabha Tiwari, B.Com. Regulars III Year 

Picture Credit :  Special Arrangement 

I was smiling wholeheartedly, having a great day in the peaceful forest. It gave me some freshness and peace of mind. With a never-ending smile, I stepped into the elevator, and a familiar ding was heard when I reached the floor of my apartment. Fiddling with the digital card from my backpack, I came near the door, placed the card, and opened it. While rushing in, I saw an envelope placed near the doormat. I took it and locked the door whilst, letting myself into my comfortable living. Sitting comfortably on the soft, I let out a tired sigh. 

I opened the envelope and read it completely. The peace that I had gotten from my outing flew out of the window and was replaced with utter blankness. The words written filled my brain and pierced my heart into pieces. The words cut through my peaceful mind and enrolled themselves forever. My heart was crumbling, and my mind was occupied with those words. My heart skipped a beat, not in love but in pain. Every sentence, every word stabbed my heart to die a painful yet slow death. Wanting to scream, but with my mouth shut and lips seized. I couldn't utter a word. Every breath was suffocating as if something was wrapped around my throat and making me choke to death. I could feel it tighten my chest and that my ribcage and body would have a loud explosion, and I'll be in torn into bits and pieces any time soon. I knew this was going to happen. I knew it would, but why does it hurt when I had prepared for the worse? It hurts like Hades. My heart is screaming, but not a word was uttered from my sealed lips. Not a single tear rolled down my cheeks. 

Wounds can be healed, but scars can never heal. They stay there forever, reminding us of the betrayal, the pain. But what hurts the most is the person who healed your scar had given you an even deeper, and worst abused scar that can't be healed anymore. When one falls deeper and deeper, not in love but in the vast ocean of sadness and loneliness, we can't help but laugh at the choice of what life and destiny give us. Even if our feet are full of scars we move on. The pain was endless, just like the thoughts of clouds. Ready to rain, yet not. When something shatters in us yet, we long for those shattering. Feeling full yet empty. Behind every mask there is a face, behind every face there is a masked smile. Behind every masked smile, there is pain, behind every pain there is a story. Behind every story there is a lesson, behind every lesson there is a reason. Behind every reason, there is a person, and behind every person, there is a soul.

I let myself drown in this colossal ocean of sadness. I can drink this pain, and I am capable of enduring this pain within me. If only you could read my heart and soul. It calls for you and only you. I was like a painting that was already sketched and then erased when it wasn't liked. But it's okay. 

"Her Writings" - A Poem By Deepshikha Patangay, BA III Year 

 

Picture Credit : Deepshikha Patangay

 

The clock stopped working,

And everything around the artist paused.

She wished a new story to begin,

But the past didn't let her walk.

 

Thought to forget everything,

But was blank about the future.

Maybe there was no new chapter,

As the mind was stuck reliving it all.

 

Searched around to find a path,

The heart became a locker,

And the key was lost.

Old memories came forward,

In front of her hazel brown eyes,

And her mad heart poured out.

 

Using the pen as her power,

The paper witnessed her emotions.

Centuries passed by and,

Her writings were relieved,

On the Earth for infinite times,

By people who read her.

 

Though she turned into ashes,

She was alive through her writings,

And would live on eternally,

Till the universe would end one day.

 ~Deepshikha Patangay (BA)