Dear 2017,

Vasanthi Shwetha, III Year B. A. Economics.

Tell me those stories
that I haven’t been told
Tell me stories that
have been ripped apart
by faithful lies,
tell me stories where
villains have won
and heroes have lost,
where evil has
won over good,
tell me good is good
because few believe so
and bad is sometimes
all the good that few wanted to silence
show me colours I haven’t seen,
tell me chameleons aren’t to
be cursed through human similes, for they are too part of the creation.

Tell me stories of failures
that will show me what
can go wrong despite every right step, whisper into my ears
the secret of a failure’s courage and brandish the words of those
who tell me only winners are inspiring.
Allow me to listen to the
titters of time, tucking in the blunt corners of naivety into
my rib cage, crushing all
the fear that I once never knew.
Break the rulers
that make succinct lines
and angles across blank pages,
for  my scars don’t look an
ounce similar, my scars are zizag, incomplete pathways to my past.

Tell me that I should believe in forever, not because everything in this world will remain safe and intact but because they will break, fade and disappear and yet I will hold on to it to make sure it doesn’t die
Don’t tell me how much fat my chocolate truffle contains,
tell me how many calories my  grudges, hatred and jealousy contains, tell me love is the exercise that I should practice.
Don’t fool me into believing that you will be a perfect year,
tell me that you’re going to be brutal at times and kind at others, but just promise me that you won’t rob away my smile,
even if you see blood beneath it.

Tell me that I going to thank more people, grow more mature by embracing all the innocence within me.
Tell me, I am going to listen to more stories, tell me I am going see my reflection in their tears,
tell me I am going pick all the broken pieces of laughter
and write an anthology,
Tell me just one more thing,
just one last thing,
tell me that I am going to keep flowing like a river and no matter what I will never give up my search for the ocean.


Terribly Tiny Recap

Pooja Krishna H. A., II Year B. A., English

On cyclones

Outside, the wind howled; an indication of the power of nature.
Inside, the woman howled; an indication of the power of man.

On Jallikattu

‘Ban PETA!’ the people of TN protested.
‘Ban Jallikattu!’ the animal activists protested.
No one bothered to ask the bulls’ opinion.

On the American Presidential Elections of 2016

In despising him, they displayed a unity that wasn’t there while electing him.

On Brexit                            

United for the cause of falling apart, they were divided when the time came to make a stand.

On the attack in Orlando

One man. Two guns. Three hour stand-off.
One prejudice causing too many deaths of the third sex.

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