Jigsaw Pieces Of The Freshmen Year

-Anjali Bhavan, 2nd Year, MCE
-Shashank Shekhar Jha, 2nd Year, ECE
-Zara Khan, 2nd Year, PSCT


One fine boring day, when you’re done with your last exam and striding briskly out of the hall, you look around at the nerds discussing the answer of the second part of question three, and your friends discussing plans for Mussoorie, and yet some others grabbing a guy for a GPL – and you realize that hey, first-year is over. One year of your life, simply over.

Calls for a photograph with all the urchins and bulky heroes and random human beings you’ve pulled through an entire year with, doesn’t it?

There you all huddle, some rushing to the lawns for the front-most place, some sauntering in with iced teas, chattering and standing in circles while the CR and the photographer try to get everyone in place.

And a couple of days later, you get a beautiful picture on your Facebook wall and WhatsApp DP – the final nail in the unofficial first year coffin.

Who all constitute that picture, though?

There are the ghissus, sitting on the left, and the NRIs, sitting besides them, sedate and self-assured. The nerds – simply wanting to go home and make study plans for the summers, and the NRIs – dreaming of a less fatal summer than the one in Delhi …and Toblerones and Bvlgari perfumes!

Move a little to the center, right in front, smiling wholeheartedly are the chatterboxes, the group which basically gossips and grins throughout the day. Brownie points for guessing who rules the roost on the class groups!

At the back is the group of rich kids, who are always upto something or the other. They might spend hours sitting in MechC, or suddenly go out for shopping in South Delhi. Always ready to escape classes, they stick together through thick and thin.

And of course, what photograph is ever complete without some urchins to bomb them? You’ll veritably find someone from another batch in every class photograph – because there’s no fun to have a non-bombed photo, is there?

And all these strange, different, unique pieces come together and complete a beautiful puzzle that is called the first-year of college life. Sitting in the OAT, you look at all  your peers and suddenly it strikes you that one year has already passed with this eccentric bunch of people.


Your first-year of college will never come back again. And a picture? It’s the perfect way to cherish it forever!


Apologies

                                                                                   –Anjali Bhavan, 2nd Year, MCE

In Bharatanatyam, the dance form that carried me in the clouds and nailed my feet to the soil hidden underneath black and white floors – in Bharatanatyam, before beginning the session for the day,

we were supposed to tap the ground once with each foot, then slowly sit in a lotus position with hands coming in a full circle and together,

then we touched the ground with our fingers and brought them to our closed eyes and then we would clasp our hands in prayer and get up, I think it’s beautiful.

Through this little gesture we apologize to the earth, the primitive life-force, for all the subsequent thumping and thunderous dancing that would happen and the pain which would be inflicted on it consequently, I think it holds much meaning.

We all have a lot to apologize to the earth for,

to the skies that are a 24X7 running TV show with just advertisements,

to the lands that smell of despair and car footprints and arsenic,

to trees with fractures and sprains laden with barber mirrors and suffocation,

To the sunshine that sparkles dimly in silver earrings, a sorrowful reflection that like the moon, the sun is waning as well.

I think we have a lot to apologize for,

Atone for,

Amend for.

I think it’s sad that we hear more pressure horns than bicycle bells,

that the air is just a blazing marquee of nothing but cacophony,

swirling past our ears,

racing in auto rickshaws

through busy intersections that kill more people than pneumonia ever did.

I think it’s sad. I want to do something. I want to write about it, maybe it’ll help me forget the four hundred trees felled in a wan summer to craft the pages I’m writing in.

sorrry

Ramadan Kareem

Ramadan is the month, the beginning of which is mercy, the middle of which is forgiveness and the end is freedom from fire.

-Raunak Kapur, 3rd year, EEE

Ramadan is not a month of fasting during the day and binge eating during the night.

It is not a month when working women stay in front of the stoves during the day for preparation of the sunset meal.

It is not a month when employees get an excuse to come back early from work.

Ramadan is not one of those things.

If done right, it is a chance for spiritual boost with lessons to be applied long after the month is out. Ramadan is the month, the beginning of which is mercy, the middle of which is forgiveness and the end is freedom from fire.

It is the month when we are reminded of the Most Gracious and Most Merciful. We recite the holy Quran with utmost sincerity, even more eagerly with profound devotion.

This is a month of sharing. Celebrate this holy festival with everyone. What better way to start spreading love and care to others especially during the month when the gates of Paradise are most welcoming?

It is the time, when you bury the past and forgive others for their wrong deeds as Quran has rightly stated:

“The repayment of a bad action is one equivalent to it. But if someone pardons and puts things right, his reward is with Allah. Certainly He does not love wrongdoers.” (Surat Ash-Shura, 40)


Prophet Mohammed (PBUH) rightly said:

“Whatever you have prayed for at the time of fast is granted and is never refused.”


So this holy month, along with remembering the almighty and following all rituals, strive to perform a noble deed, for Allah forgives a person and forgets all sins of the one who works tirelessly and selflessly to bring about a smile on an individual’s face.

Ramadan Kareem.

Image Source: Google

Bhoot aur Bakait

Chirag Arora, 4th Year, ECE
Anjali Bhavan, 1st Year, MCE

Even ghosts have colorful lives and tinged windows like cars through which they view the world.

So I sauntered towards the haunted lane of DTU once when I was bored after a dull, insipid day that hung over the sky like a drying blanket. I wasn’t really expecting anyone to be around, save for some lone fresher or a wistful senior. A troop of monkeys led me to a purposeless shack eerier than the dense part of the forest.

I saw a woman sitting before me with long, white hair. She was resting against a tree, chewing betel and spitting on the road. Her spittle reached my white shoes; I cringed and stepped back in time.

Kaun manhoos hai be?” she cackled ironically.

“Who are you?” I ventured uncertainly.

“I am Elaine.” she haunted.

I chortled at both the revelation and the bad pun.

“Nonsense!” I scoffed. “How long have you been here for? What all have you seen?”

Elaine began to narrate, her voice softening with the falls of age and memories.

“Almost 80 years. Moved with campuses to places and now I have a place of my own. This lane. I have experienced quiet here in loud commotion. Pragmatics would come for a stroll here not expecting to find me and romantics would come to halt here not wanting to find me. Hostelers would venture here alone at 2 am in the night with scary, unwashed faces just about upright on will and caffeine, still looking for the thrill of an exaggerated story to be told later – because I am not made of skin and bones anymore. I’m made of stories.”

“She must hate Maggi Baba.” I thought to myself.

Vo bakait?” she blushed. “Bachhon mein ek hi to stud hai.” she panted and babbled through her broken brown teeth.

“It’s a hard job to be ghost here” she sighed.

“Why!” I asked in a start pondering over possible job hazards.

She told me of having to duck and flee from rerouted rampaging cars with owners grinning in their own sherlockery of avoiding the barricade, how she had missed being crushed under speeding vehicles several times.

“Doesn’t it ever get boring?” I asked.

“Never. I live like a myth in a college of science. And when the scene gets heavy, I am an oddball retreat!” A smile broke on the sturdy immobile face. And on mine too for like every other soul in DTU, this one too endeared.

As I got up to leave, Elaine triumphantly declared ‘‘Arre full power swag hai humara” and vanished into thin air. And I vanished too. Back to classroom.

Sigh.

The After-College Bucket List

-Zara Khan, 1st Year, PCT
-Pratyush Thakur, 1st Year, COE
Featured Image designed by Freepik

Four years of college have passed by in a jiffy, and the end is already here. Hectic college schedules made you completely lose track of the hobbies you wanted to pursue, or the exploration you wanted to indulge in. Anything flashy or in vogue is bound to catch your attention and make you yearn for the time to do all those things. Here is a bucket list of all the things you can pursue after college.


  • Travel solo, or with friends

Remember all those plans, which you made after the 12th class boards? Yes! Those poorly executed plans which never took flight. Now, you can finally break the jinx of those failed Goa Plans and finally go on a trip to numerous mystical places. It’s time to pack your bags and commence the journey of exploration and rejuvenation.


  • Learn to play a musical instrument

Are you fascinated by the idea of playing the guitar or the piano? Busy college life never gave you the opportunity to learn to play a musical instrument, fret not because now you have all the time in the world to learn any musical instrument of your choice. So enroll yourself in a class as soon as possible! You never know the magic you might create.


  • Learn a new language

Como te llamas?” or “Je T’aime”! Do you find foreign languages intriguing? Now is the perfect time to join a language course online, or offline and improve your communication skills.


  • Reconnect with old friends

This is the time to reach out to all those friends you couldn’t keep up with, because of the frantic college schedule. Those school friends are still just a call away.


  • Learn to cook

If you can already whip up palatable delicacies, then you may skip this part. However, if you are the one who thinks cooking Maggi is enough to add cooking to your résumé, then you must consider honing this skill. As the reality of adulthood finally dawns upon your lives, it’s high time to learn cooking to survive in the completely new world you are about to enter. Who knows, there might be a Gordon Ramsay lurking inside of you.


  • Adventure sports

Although engineers are the natural risk takers (pulling all-nighters is no mean feat, mind you!), but this is the time to let yourself fly (quite literally).


  • Binge watch your favourite movies/shows

 It used to be quite stressful when you had to choose between an episode of GOT or completing your assignment. But, now you can be a Raven and fly to Westworld, wearing the best Suits to meet your F.R.I.E.N.D.S. (Well, obviously until first day of your respective jobs! *winks*)


The Stigma of Desolation

-Shivam Jha, 1st year, MAE

Oh, I see that you have put up a post stating that your door is always open if I want to talk to you regarding my mental issues. But what are you going to console me with, when you can’t even fathom what I am going through?

 


Awareness about mental illness in India is deplorable, which in turn restricts people from accepting and confronting the symptoms.

In our country, it’s easier to say that my chest is aching than to say my heart is broken.

That’s because it’s always brushed under the carpet. People loudly declare if they are seeing a homeopathic doctor or trying Ayurveda, but if anyone even mentions they are seeing a therapist, then they are immediately stigmatized. The same people who offer fruits and condolences on seeing a broken bone huddle together and murmur in hushed tones when someone around has an anxiety attack or is undergoing treatment for Bipolar.

The idea that people share mental health issues for ‘attention’ is poison. People die in silence every day. That attention can save lives.

Talking to people and helplines are a great resource, but for them to be effective, the person in distress needs to have the rational thought to call them. All too often, they won’t have that thought as they’ve made up their mind that they don’t want to be saved.

Sadly, depression is not sadness, it is a lack of vitality and intense apathy towards almost everything, and it isn’t always something you can fight back against with hope. You cannot imagine what it takes to feign normalcy, to show up to work, to make a therapy appointment, to pay bills, to laugh at jokes, to return library books on time, to keep enough tissues in hand, when you are exerting most of your capacity on trying not to kill yourself.

Everyone undergoes depression in a different manner, and it is more often than not impossible to explain it to the other person in conversation.

Imagine being homesick for a place you’ll never visit, or heartbroken over a person you’ve never met.

It is the self-loathing that wakes us at 2 A.M. and whispers “you are nothing to anyone,” as we lay in bed wishing we could sleep. It is sitting on the bathroom floor because you feel too sick to move, but you know that you can’t possibly have anything to vomit because you haven’t eaten anything in days.

Stigma (and ignorance) exists around mental health with phrases such as:

“Pull yourself together,”
“think of all the people in the world who have it much worse than you,”
“think about your family,”
“just cheer up.”

The wish is not the end, but to hide.
So before you put up another post, know what you’re saying, before you say it.


 

Image Credits: Huffpost

 

From One Heart to Another

I have spent 19 years of my life trying to find a person like you, trying to find a person who would love me as unconditionally as you do, but I have failed.

Featured Image Designed by Freepik

-Raunak Kapur, 2nd year, EEE

People have always asked me:

“Do you believe in love at first sight?”

Yes, I do. Because when I first looked at you, I fell in love.

Whenever I think about you, I have always wondered, how can someone be so affectionate and empathetic? How can someone sacrifice her interests just to bring about that smile on my face? You are the only one who can decode my sadness and make me smile again. One hug from you and all my sorrows go away. Behind every achievement of mine, there have always been your efforts which you have put in. Whenever I was depressed, you were always there by my side urging me to move forward. You have always guided me to walk on the right path.

God once thought: I can’t always be with children, and that’s why he has sent you.

Someone once asked: “Where do you find Paradise?”

The Prophet Muhammad (peace and blessings be upon him) said that Paradise lies at your feet.

It has been rightly said that your blessings have the capability to change my fate.

I have spent 19 years of my life trying to find a person like you, trying to find a person who would love me as unconditionally as you do, but I have failed.

I don’t know if I would be able to repay you for all you have done for me but on this day, I promise to keep all your values in mind and always make you feel proud. All that I am or I hope to be, it’s only because of you.

To my Aayi,

To my Amma,

To my Mère,

To my Ammi jaan,

To my Mum,

To my Ma,

It doesn’t matter by which name I call you, after all love in its truest form has no language.

Happy Mothers Day. You deserve a lifetime of appreciation. Everyday is your day!