The Library Affair Food for Mind “Winners never cheat” Jon M. Huntsman Inside this issue Hashtags
Sourioshophy: 3 Lost in Translation Mirror-Mirror
Of all the unlikely places to find the brushed it aside as just the scribbling girl of your dreams, Pratamesh found of a girl who has no regard for college it on the first floor of the TAPMI li- property, but when he moved on to brary, at an unassuming corner shelf Mary Shelley’s ‘Frankenstien’ and where was kept the TAPMI’s modest found the underlining again he realcollection of English literary classics ized that each elegantly highlighted and ‘non-academic’ books. The new phrase really had a lasting impact on environment of restriction him. Something he had “Each elegant and rules was extremely never felt before. He began sketch of pencil stifling, especially after 3 on paper was like to mentally repeat those years of living as a free a hot arrow shot sentences throughout the agent of sin in Bangalore. day until he brought himthrough his No bikes, no late nighters, self to tears. By the time heart.” and no sleeping till noon he reached his fifth book A here in the jungles of Manipal. There Tale of Two Cities he had fallen head was very little he could do to escape over heels for his mysterious maiden. from the monotony, except for a good Each elegant sketch of pencil on pabook; a habit which he had unknow- per was like a hot arrow shot ingly forsaken with the arrival of his through his heart. Every line and first salary. The first book was Ani- marking was so personal he imagmal Farm in which he first saw the ined it was the remnants of her hair scriptures of an angel. There in a as she glazed it over the pages of the dark HB pencil was underlined every book, just for him to see and feel. few sentences which she thought was He felt amazed at how both their powerful and impacting. At first he (continued on page no. 2)
up to destroy this structure of despair into a messy rubble Both blocks of the boys hostel unless basic human living condiare up in arms with the inces- tions are provided for the boardsant late night construction ers. work outside their windows for the new hostel. The Alt+T information network has revealed PGP-2 TAPMI is seeing the the recent formation of an ex- worst debt crisis it has faced in tremist vigilante group called the past two years. Collective cofthe Radical TAPMI Front fers are ringing empty after in(R.T.F) consisting of students of cessant and irresponsible spendboth years with the sole goal to ing in the second last month of sabotage this project, and gain their tenure. With elaborate a peaceful night’s sleep and plans for their last month, little clean air to breathe. Elaborate hope is seen for the final years. plans have already been drawn Chief investors i.e. parents have
lost all confidence in the financial maturity of their wards and have demanded detailed expenditure reports before dispensing anymore cash. When approached a parent commented “It was a high risk investment which turned bad. Unfortunately we are emotionally attached to her.” Dear Readers, Kindly send your articles, poems and feedback. Our email contact is firstname.lastname@example.org
Hashtags Hashtag (#) was voted as the word of the year 2012 by the American Dialect Society, beating the likes of biggies like Fiscal Cliff, YOLO (You Only Live Once), and Gangnam. Welcome to the world of Twitter. At first, many seem not to like the idea of joining Twitter. It seems too complicated, meant only for the intellectual as it is laden with complex features. Who the hell wants to tell you what he is doing in less than 140 words when Facebook allows you to write pages and pages of information (mainly copy pasted), and get cheap thrills of multiple likes and comments.
they migrated to Facebook from Orkut as it had already out-lived its purpose. A mistake lot of people make is to sync Twitter and Facebook accounts, which means that a tweet would automatically serve as a status update. Not many know the reason of doing this, and it would remain a mystery until one appoints the CIA to understand and find out what had gone wrong. In doing such a thing, the whole purpose and sanctity of tweeting is lost. A suggestion would be to tweet it, and go and post it independently on Facebook, and get the most sought after likes that you are looking for.
A Twitter account is very easy to Apps like Tweetdeck and operate. You have the freedom to Snaptu are extremely benefichoose what you want to write. cial if you are tweeting. Join The more you write, tweet that is, the Twitteratti to share huthe more followers you have. It mor, wit, your interests, rangwould be great people who are not ing from a football match to muon Twitter, decide to join, begin to sic, and view some fascinating start tweeting by putting a hashtag online content. Few great minds on against it. A hashtag is usually used to twitter to follow are venkatanath, sidgroup information by just invadukut, rameshsrivats, and sureksearching for a particular item. hapillai. Example: #ManchesterCity would sort out all information, groups, and topics trend- A suggestion would be to join Twitter, explore, ing currently with respect to Manchester City tweet freely, and the process trend worldwide. football club. You can soak up the atmosphere, by taking in and Twitter is a free world of sorts that people like us giving a lot of gyaan. However, try to avoid followdream of. We can engage in discussions, post ing too many celebrities, and tweet as you like. links, tell what we are doing, and follow like- Remember not to avoid the hashtag. minded people.
Nowadays, a lot of people have migrated from Writer is Eldrich Rangel, PGP ’13 Facebook to Twitter, citing that Facebook is He can be followed on @Eldy04. passé, just like they had cited in the past that The Library Affair (contd.) hearts skipped a beat for the same text of boiling emotion. He knew that this girl had to be found and wooed by any means necessary, and if not he will surely die. But it would be no mean task to squeeze out a name from Mr.Sadhasiv, the Librarian. But he knew Karthik could surely do it. He spoke Kannada and often chatted with the librarians whenever he came to the library. As he approached Karthik’s room, Pratamesh wondered what he would tell him. What reason could he
possibly give for wanting a girl’s name from the librarian? After contemplating a few unconvincing excuses he decided it would be best to tell Karthik the truth and make him a confidant rather than lie and be subject to ridicule if ever caught. With the nervousness before a confession he opened Karthik’s room door only to see Karthik stretched out on the bed. He looked up at Pratamesh and grunted “Kya Hua?,” on getting just a dumb wide eyed expression Karthik went back to underlining the novel that he had just borrowed from the library. (Writer: Anonymous)
Sourioshophy Lost in Translation
Sometimes it all feels so random, the randomness in thoughts, the randomness in our destiny, sometimes it feels so abnormally perfect, sometimes so perfectly chaotic. The thoughts wandered on a starry night as I reclined staring into the vast oblivion. The beauty of this moment is that it is the clamour of vessels and the cries of breaking fleeting. Nevertheless, at times I have wished, I hearts. Amidst the chaos you can see the stage was able to stop the racing hands of the clock and that surrounds you. The tears of a beautiful enjoy a particular moment for a longer time, but woman, the smile of an old man, the ignorance of all whims are not granted. I have realized that no a child, the weariness of a traveller. I look at matter how hard I try, I can neither enjoy a cer- them, I stare hard trying to read their thoughts, tain wave of the ocean for an hour nor can I tear and I suddenly find the sounds fading away. I can the fabric of the sky apart to look at what lies be- feel the dark side of life in the eyes of the woman, yond. Have you ever felt, that sedatives make you I see the stories of youth in the smiles of the old who you really are, lifting the fake mask that we man, I can feel bliss in the playfulness of the all try and hide behind, have you ever felt that at child, I see the memoirs of the journeys of the night when we are off to sleep we enter the real traveller. I now feel a soul that exists in each one world and wake up in the of them, a heart same as “Death, thou art a heartless angel, morning to start life in this mine beating in a syndream again. I perceive Thou woke me up from this beautiful dream, chronous rhythm, the death as the eternal release breath that stirs the air I know not what I can do for you, from this dream, the final around them. I now feel I But die once to make you smile. escape into the real world. am part of something, a I want to play with you, O Sky, A flower once frowned, waitsystem of connected entiing for her lover in desperaties. A part of something I want to run around with you, O Wind, tion, the bee who came colossal, something beHide me behind your garb O Clouds, every morning and sucked yond the realm of my unSo that none may know where I am. the nectar from her heart. derstanding. Days passed and she wilted. I shall now rest in peace, Now that I have We have all spent soliThe love deprived flower tary moments, and it is bathed in thy beauty. eventually perished. The I just need a solitary smile from you, And I in those moments that bee did come back, injured, we either feel at peace shall have the power to defeat destiny.” with fire burning his wings. with ourselves or lost in The hunters had stolen the nectar and burnt his the silence. It is in these moments that we can hive. He returned and found the flower on the figure out for real the essence of existence. A life ground wrapped in dust. The bee fell too, beside spent trying to find the price for happiness and the flower, happy and contented. He knew they the reason for tears. I wish I could unravel all would wake up together from the dream. Look at that is clandestine, all that is just an illusion and a sunset, the bright colours scattered on the sky, all the lies that exist to hide the truth. The main the calm breeze that caresses your face, look at reason for unhappiness in this world is expectathe waves that curl up on the shores, look at your tions and though expectations make us unhappy life stirred in those waters. Then comes along the we never stop expecting. In life unhappiness is dark emptiness of the night with the moon shin- like that perfectly carved boomerang that returns ing like a beacon. The clouds wandering like puffs back no matter how far we throw it away. The of smoke as the breath of the sea runs its fingers secret of happiness is to travel on the fine grey through your hair. This is the moment I feel I am line between all that is black and all that is alive, I can hear myself echoing within. white, in a place where life rests in perfect harThere is a cacophony of voices, sounds and noises mony, in a place where we realise this is all a all around us. Try hard and you can hear the dream and once we wake up nothing really matrhythms of life. The percussions of a local train, ters. the jingle of chimes, the snares of bellowing Written by Sourish Dey, Section 4, PGP 1. horns, the songs of a beggar, the pitch of a vendor, “To catch the reader's attention, place an interesting sentence or quote from the story here.”
MIRROR-MIRROR!! My hands dripping the blood all over, An apparent scar, from lips, reaching eyes. Dagger piercing the heart, I watch myself simmer, Tears rolling down, she vies. A gaze into the mirror, I realize, An immoral conquest, holy substance despise!! “Oh mirror! Mirror! I break you in shards, But I hesitate, Even a broken you, shows my abominable fate” Now I regret a committed fraud and deceit, Friends were they, rough I played, My heart couldn’t greet, Loser me, at love, insanity swayed.
A gaze into the mirror, I realize, An immoral conquest, holy substance despise!! My deeds bring me shame, disgrace, I left my parents to the sanctum, in pain. Horrendous I did, I cry for solace, but, I know, it would never rain again. A gaze into the mirror, I realize, An immoral conquest, holy substance despise!! I spoon out my eyes, To save a look into you! Mammoth, I try, couldn't run from the infamy, No matter now, how many strings I sew!! -Sahil Anand, PGP1
Ask Akka? Dear Akka,
How much life-altering change can you accomI’m appalled at this outrageousness. T-sprits, Cox plish in an extra 30 mins out of campus anyway? and Mox and the MIT girls hostel all close at Dear Akka, 11:00 pm. My girlfriend in MIT jokes that she can drop me at college and still find time for another Despite having the grace of a drunk hippopotaround before getting back to hostel. My manliness mus, my classmates are threatening to make me is in question due to college rules Akka. Please dance in this..‘Waves’ event. Curses to the CultCom for participation points! And apparently we help! can’t even hold hands with the opposite gender or Totally Unfair use profanity in the performances! Kahan se motivation aayega Akka? Dear Unfair, Disappointed Have you heard about the student who rebelled against college rules in the last month of his year, and went on to graduate successfully with a Director’s letter of appreciation? No? That’s because there isn’t one, dear. Sometimes when life gives you crappy lemons, that’s ‘cause life doesn’t like what you did with the previous lemons it gave you. Or lemons were out of stock. If this all seems confusing, just remember that when you’re my age you’ll realize that sometimes, people with responsibility gotta choose the stick over the carrot when they think those they’re responsible for, have an enviable knack of digging up trouble.
Dear Disappointed, A few months from now, when you’re choking in your stuffy suit and tie in a stifling boardroom meeting pretending to listen to your tyrant of a boss expound upon company performance working 9-to-5 in a thankless job and coming back home to an apartment just to collapse on your bed so that you can scramble up at 6:00 am and rush to the office and spend yet another routine, monotonous, boring day - you’ll look back and wish you had gone up on stage and danced your backside off in Waves ’13, dear boy!