Maiden Innings

(When sealed lips are your best aegis...!!! )

The jubilation after getting through the entrance exams just begins to inebriate. Suddenly the nightmare of their maiden innings in the engineering college perturbs their exhilaration.

Nightmare of their own shirts strangling them, their own attire attacking haunts them. Nightmare of deadly encounters with techno seniors sucks the sleep from their eyes. The mollycoddled babies have just hatched from their shells to face the bare realities. Yet beings the incessant tug of war with themselves to acclimatize with their new ambiance  They move around silently and gingerly with apprehensions of a brush with the peril, the SENIORS. The ants follow their line reaching from one destination to the other, each a solace for the other.

If you still haven’t surmised what am I talking about, then let me be a bit more explicit. It’s about the first few months of the first year of engineering life when zest and zeal is brim-over yet the fearful knot in the throat hinders them from using their larynx. Those days of terror and horrified experiences later prove to be cherished nostalgic reminisce of the new beginning.

Masking the ugly look.....

(Unabashedly ...slave to a ubiquitous menace!)

The world that looked colourful yesterday is now ashen. If you visualize red, pink and blue then it’s nothing but delusion. Artifice , Artfully, Articulate. Some sort of mutation has made hypocrisy, an indispensable trait of the genes and mind you this trait has no recessive gene. Ideals and principles are so capricious today than one could have ever imagined. Hypocrisy has shrouded all ideals, views, statements. It camouflages every moment. 

Everything is subject to calculations, profit and loss. And when actions are smeared with avarice, compromising concrete ideals by being obsequious becomes an easy task. Every moment we masquerade ourselves as a completely new individual befitting to the present milieu. The lust for the acme has gagged frankness and kidnapped honesty. The call of the inner voice or conscience is often shrugged off and truthfulness, it’s long lost. Nevertheless, even amidst connivance of the mass the allegiance of few obdurate numskulls towards their conscience may help vanquish LUCIFER......

Subtle Love

(Finally the figment of her imagination is real !!!)

If anything splendid and beautiful could have ever happened in her life it is definitely the very feeling of walking into the purple land. The land of orchids holding those reassuring hands. His fingers caressing through her locks when she is lugubrious. His composure embracing her often splenetic rather cantankerous self. His silence gulping her incessant gabble. His candour winning her heart and Oh! his peevish philanthropy. A pellucid character, the man of her phantasm is now real, loving her invariably, selflessly and incessantly.

The chimes of the bells ,the chirping birds n even the cacophony around sounds so musical and the zephyr just kissing her face ,passes away whispering into her ears a name, the name of her “subtle love".