The Atlas Domain: A Pile of Ends | 2024 Encapsulated Collection

AVERY POTTER

PARIDHI JAIN

THE ATLAS DOMAIN

KOSAR TAHERIFARD

INDRANI BHATTACHARJEE

MEERA ETTIE

TIA M. MANI

Th

in

tlas Doma A e

FORGE THE UNWRITTEN

A Pile of Ends | 2024 Encapsulated Collection

The First Echo Avery Potter

SCRIBBLING OF A PEN, TYPING THAT FILLS THE BRAIN. A NEW PASSION, A NEW FERVENT DREAM. WORDS FLOW THROUGHOUT THE YEAR, POEMS, PROSE, AND STORIES SO DEAR, ALL TAKE SHAPE WITH AN END SO NOT NEAR. NUMBERS DROP, WHILE PARAS STACK, A TINGE OF REGRET FOLLOWS THROUGH, BUT NEVER COMES TRUE. MONTHS PASS, WORDS DO TOO, JOBS TAKEN IN DIFFERENT LANES HONEYED LIGHT DISSOLVING IN THE BLANKS WORKS SHOWN IN DIFFERENT PAGES, OF WHITE, PILE UP WITH THE SNOW ON THE PORCH. BLACKENED LETTERS ON A WHITE SLATE, TAKE UP THE YEAR WITH GREED AND LUST, THE SHADOW OF A MAN THAT'S REALLY NOT REAL, SNEAKILY PEEKS BEHIND HUNCHED SHOULDERS.

PHOTO BY VINIZ CACERES

THE YEAR ENDS, THE FIRST TASK IS DONE, LEAVING A TRAIL OF INK BEHIND EVERY STEP. THE IMPACT ISN'T GREAT, PERHAPS NOT EVEN MELLOW, BUT THE BALLAD OF THE FIRST ECHO ENDS NOT SO SHALLOW.

A New Beginning?

Paridhi Jain

AN EMPTY PAPER, WAITING TO BE IMMERSED UPON, IN FRONT OF ME, THE TIP OF MY QUILL GENTLY CARESSING THE SHEET, JUMBLED WORDS STRUGGLING AND BATTLING TO SPILL OUT OF ME. THE CLOCK TICKING, TIME RUNNING AWAY, IN THIS SPACE OF SILENCE MY EYES EMBRACE THE GOLDEN DIMNESS. FLASHES OF EVENTS, HARDSHIPS AND LAUGHTER BECKON MY CHEST TO INFLATE WITH THE OVERWHELMINGNESS OF THE PECULIAR ORBS OF EMOTIONS. MY MIND FLUTTERS BACK TO THAT DAY THE DAY I MADE COMMITMENTS, THE DAY A YOUNGER, MUCH CONFIDENT VERSION OF ME, SO DETERMINED AND WITH HEAD HELD HIGH STOOD JOYFULLY IN FRONT OF THE MIRROR AND SINCERELY SAID “I WILL MAKE EVERYONE PROUD, I WILL BE GOOD.” UPON RECALLING THIS, ROLLS AN ASTRAY TEAR DOWN MY CHEEK UNSURE AS I TRY TO NAVIGATE THROUGH THESE DANGLED-UP THREADS TRYING TO FIND AN EXIT, A SOLUTION. OH, HOW I HAVE COMPLICATED, WHAT WAS ONCE SO PERFECT! PHOTO BY VINIZ CACERES

The Interlude Kosar Taherifard

I THINK I HEARD THAT IN A MOVIE OR SOMETHING, I DON'T QUITE REMEMBER, BUT SHE WAS TALKING ABOUT HOW ONE'S LIFE IS LIKE A STORYBOOK, OR A NOVEL, AND WE ARE THE CHARACTERS WHO ASSUME THEY ARE FREE TO DECIDE WHAT'S GOING TO HAPPEN TO THEM. IT WAS AN INTRIGUING CONCEPT TO ME AT THAT TIME. HOWEVER, INSTEAD OF THINKING ABOUT THE CHARACTERS IN MY LIFE, I WAS ALWAYS WONDERING ABOUT THE CHAPTERS. EACH STORY HAS ITS OWN ENDING, MIDDLE AND BEGINNING. MINE IS LIKE THAT TOO, YOURS AS WELL, OR ANYONE'S FOR THAT MATTER. THE ISSUE ARISES WHEN THE MAIN CHARACTER HAS ABSOLUTELY NO CLUE WHATSOEVER, OF WHICH CHAPTER THEY ARE ON AND WHAT THE NEXT PAGES WILL BRING ONTO THEIR JOURNEY. I'VE BEEN THROUGH A LOT OF TROUBLE STRUGGLING TO FIGURE OUT WHERE I'M AT. I COULDN'T FIND A SPECIFIC CHAPTER. WHAT I COULD FIND, THOUGH, WAS THE INTERLUDE. I GUESS I WENT PAST THE PROLOGUE, THE CLIMAX(ES) ARE STILL LEFT TO BE DEALT WITH, AND THE EPILOGUE WOULD HOPEFULLY BE A VERY VERY LONG WAY AHEAD. SO THAT ONLY LEAVES THE INTERLUDE, AND FROM WHAT I KNOW, IT'S QUITE A MESSY PHASE. THE INTERLUDE IS SIMILAR TO A LIMBO. NOT THAT I HAVE BEEN TO A LIMBO PERSONALLY, BUT I FEEL LIKE I MIGHT HAVE A CLUE WHAT THAT IS. A LIMBO IS A FOGGY, FADING, AND DARK DWELLING DEEP WITHIN A FOREST OR A FIELD. THE DWELLING IS SUSPENDED MIDAIR WITHOUT ANY ROPES, CHAINS OR COLUMNS HOLDING IT IN PLACE. IT HARBOURS A MAZE IN ITSELF, AND WHEN YOU HAVE NO CLUE OF WHERE YOU ARE, YOU GET LOST IN IT. AT LEAST, THAT IS HOW I IMAGINED MY INTERLUDE TO LOOK LIKE.

IT'S BEEN ALMOST FIVE YEARS SINCE I'VE LOST MYSELF IN THE INTERLUDE. I'VE BEEN GRASPING AT ITS STRAWS. IT'S BEEN AN ENDEAVOR FINDING A WAY TO ESCAPE. I DON'T MEAN THAT THE INTERLUDE IS FULL OF SUFFERING AND MISERY. IN FACT, MY INTERLUDE REVEALS SOME AMAZINGLY BEAUTIFUL SITES TO ME, SPARKLING FOUNTAINS, GORGEOUS FLOWERS AND VIVACIOUS GREENERY, LURING ME IN LIKE A SNARE, MAKING IT TOO DIFFICULT FOR ME TO EVEN THINK ABOUT AN ESCAPE ROUTE. THE PROBLEM LIES WHERE I CAN'T BE CERTAIN IF THE FOUNTAINS AND FLOWERS AND GREENERY ARE WHAT I'M SUPPOSED TO BE AROUND. IT'S BEEN HECTIC, I'VE BEEN SO UNSURE, I HAVE NO FREAKING IDEA WHERE TO PLACE MY FOOT. ALTHOUGH I'M STILL LOOKING FOR AN ESCAPE ROUTE, THE SHORTCUTS HAUNT ME. SHORTCUTS ARE A FACADE, EVEN MORE SO THAN THE ACTUAL WALLS OF THE INTERLUDE. THEY'RE MORE LIKELY TO HARM THAN TO HELP, BUT A LOT OF PEOPLE ARE ENCHANTED BY THEM, MESMERIZED EVEN, FOR EVEN A GLIMPSE OF THE OUTSIDE WORLD, UNTIL THEY'RE ABRUPTLY FACED WITH A DEAD END. ALL THESE LOCATIONS EXIST SIMULTANEOUSLY. THE INTERLUDE COULD HAVE ONLY ONE CHAPTER, OR AS MANY CHAPTERS AS TO LAST UNTIL THE EPILOGUE. YOU COULD BE STUCK IN THE INTERLUDE FOR ONLY AN HOUR OR A THOUSAND YEARS, IT DOESN'T MATTER ANYWAY. WHAT DOES MATTER THOUGH, IS FOR YOU TO DECIDE WHETHER YOU WANT TO FIND A WAY OUT OR NOT. EVEN THOUGH NOT ALL STORIES AND NOVELS ARE CONSIDERED POPULAR OR INTERESTING, EVEN THOUGH VERY FEW OF THEM WIN THE NOBEL PRIZE, I BELIEVE EACH PERSON'S STORY IS WORTH READING, EVEN THE WORST, MUNDANE, AND ABSOLUTELY BIZARRE ONES. BECAUSE NO MATTER HOW MANY CHAPTERS THEY HAVE, OR WHAT CHAPTER THE CHARACTERS ARE ON, AT THE END, IT ALL COMES DOWN TO A RESOLUTION, AND THAT IS ONE OF THE GREATEST MYSTERIES OF ALL TIME.

PHOTO BY VINIZ CACERES

Last Day of the Year Indrani Bhattacharjee

31ST DECEMBER, 2024 DEAR DIARY, IT’S FINALLY THE LAST DAY OF THE YEAR! HONESTLY, I CAN’T HELP BUT FEEL A SWIRL OF EMOTIONS. I’M OVERWHELMED, I’M PROUD, I’M NOSTALGIC, I REGRET SOME STUFF. WOW! 2024 HAS REALLY BEEN A ROLLERCOASTER OF MOMENTS; SOME I’LL NEVER FORGET, SOME I’D RATHER LEAVE BEHIND. YOU KNOW, THE BEST THING I LEARNT THIS YEAR WAS FRIENDSHIP. YES, FRIENDSHIP. WELL, PERHAPS SOMETHING I SHOULD HAVE REALISED WAY BEFORE- NOT ALL FRIENDS ARE GOOD FRIENDS. YOU SEE, AT TIMES, SOME PEOPLE ENTER YOUR LIFE TO LIFT YOU UP; TO ENCOURAGE YOU; TO LOVE YOU. AND AT TIMES, THEY ENTER TO WEIGH YOU DOWN. THE TRICKY PART, HOWEVER, IS TO FIGURE OUT WHO’S WHO. A FEW MONTHS BACK, I’D DISTANCED MYSELF FROM A FEW OF MY CLOSEST FRIENDS; AND WHEN I MEAN CLOSEST, I MEAN PEOPLE WHO HAVE SEEN ME THROUGH ALMOST ALL OF MY SOCIAL PHASES. BUT SOMETIMES, IT’S THE PEOPLE YOU THINK YOU KNOW THE BEST THAT STAB YOU, SLOWLY AND SLOWLY, IN THE BACK, TILL EVENTUALLY, YOU BLEED DEAD. AND THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT WOULD HAVE HAPPENED TO ME IF I HADN’T MOVED A BIT AWAY. YOU SEE, THESE FRIENDS OF MINE ARE PART OF THE “COOL, NONCHALANT” KIDS AT SCHOOL. I, ON THE OTHER HAND, AM AN OVER-ACHIEVING KID (OR WHAT THEY CALL A NERD). BUT THERE’S MORE TO ME; THERE ALWAYS HAS BEEN AND I WANTED PEOPLE TO SEE THAT; TO KNOW THAT. MIND YOU, I AM VERY EXTROVERTED AND I, VERY EASILY, MAKE FRIENDS. IT’S JUST A STEREOTYPE PEOPLE HAVE AGAINST ME AND IT JUST DOESN'T SEEM TO GO AWAY, NO MATTER HOW HARD I TRY. SO, I FELT OBLIGATED TO BE PART OF THAT GROUP JUST TO MAKE MYSELF KNOWN; NOT BECAUSE OF MY ACHIEVEMENTS, BUT BECAUSE OF WHO I AM.

HOWEVER, THAT GROUP ATE MY PERSONALITY DOWN. I FELT VULNERABLE. I FELT LIKE I WAS BEING WATCHED; LIKE I WAS BEING JUDGED EVERY HOUR, EVERY MOMENT WITH THEM. I HAD TO FIT IN, SO I TRIED MY BEST TO BE LIKE THEM. I LISTENED TO THEIR KIND OF MUSIC, I WORE THEIR KIND OF CLOTHES, I TALKED TO PEOPLE THEY TALKED TO. BUT EARLIER THIS YEAR, I REALISED, THIS WAS NOT ME. THIS IS NOT WHO I AM. THIS IS NOT WHO I EVER WAS AND NEITHER WILL I EVER TRULY BE. IT WAS HARD, BUT I DID IT. I MOVED AWAY. FROM WHAT WAS SPENDING HOURS WITH THEM, IT WAS NOW JUST HI’S AND HELLO’S. BUT I FELT AT PEACE. I DIDN’T HAVE THIS BUGGING SENSATION OF BEING CONSCIOUS OF MYSELF, OF WHAT I DO OR HOW I LOOK. I WAS FREE! IT WAS LIKE BEING ALIVE AGAIN; LIKE HOW A BIRD FEELS WHEN IT IS LET OUT OF ITS CAGE! I COULD NOW BREATHE, DANCE, SING, DO WHATEVER I WANT FREELY. LUCKILY, I HAD OTHER FRIENDS WHO TOOK ME IN THEIR GROUPS. THOUGH I AM ONCE AGAIN TYPECAST AS BEING A NERD, I SIMPLY DON’T CARE ANYMORE. I AM ME, YOU ARE YOU. I THINK THAT’S SOMETHING A LOT OF TEENAGERS NEED TO REALISE THESE DAYS! AS 2025 APPROACHES, I DON’T FEEL BITTER ABOUT THE FRIENDS I LET GO. IF ANYTHING, I’M GRATEFUL. I LEARNT WHAT I DESERVE IN A FRIENDSHIP AND HOW TO VALUE PEOPLE THAT TRULY CARE ABOUT ME. I’M STEPPING INTO THIS YEAR WITH FEWER, MAYBE, BUT TRUER FRIENDS

BY MY SIDE AND THAT’S ALL THAT MATTERS. MAYBE THAT’S WHAT GROWING UP IS ALL ABOUTLEARNING ABOUT WHO YOU REALLY ARE AND WHO’S WORTH BEING BY YOUR SIDE. CHEERS TO THE REAL ONES AND CHEERS TO 2025- A YEAR TO BUILD MORE MOMENTS THAT MATTER! LOTS OF LOVE!!

INDRANI PHOTO BY BHUVANA TAMILMARAN

Funny Papers Meera Ettie

IT WAS FUNNY TO HER, SHE KEPT STARING AT THE PIECE OF PAPER WITH A BLANKLY LOOK TRYING TO UNDERSTAND HOW A MERE PAPER HAD GOTTEN HER PRAISE AND GOT HER SCOLDED ON THE SAME DAY. SHE RECALLED THE EVENTS OF THE DAY, REMEMBERING HOW HER FRIENDS PRAISED HER FOR HER POEMS AND THE NEXT MINUTE, HER MATH TEACHER ENTERED AND GAVE HER THE ANSWER SHEET OF THE EXAM SHE WROTE A DAY BEFORE. THERE WAS UTTER SILENCE IN THE WHOLE CLASSROOM WHILE SHE STOOD UP ON HER BENCH WITH HER HEART THUMPING FASTER THAN EVER AS HER EARS TOOK IN ALL THE SHATTERING WORDS THAT CAME OUT OF HER TEACHER'S MOUTH. WAS REALLY SCORING 22/30 MARKS THAT BAD? OR SO SHE THOUGHT. MAYBE SHE WAS DUMB AFTER ALL. SHE KNEW NOTHING OTHER THAN WRITING POETRY AND EXPRESSING THINGS IN A WAY THAT CAN BE ONLY FELT BY THE SOUL. SOON AFTER HER GRADUATION SHE DECIDED TO TAKE LITERATURE, NOW SHE'S SITTING IN A BIG BOOKSTORE WHILE STARING AT THE PAPER SHE JUST SIGNED NOT KNOWING HOW MUCH IT MEANT TO THE READER TO BE ABLE TO GET HER AUTOGRAPH. FUNNY HOW PAPERS DECIDE YOUR LIFE MORE THAN YOUR OWN OPINIONS. INDEED IT WAS A FUNNY PAPER AFTERALL. SHE HOPES THAT HER LITTLE SELF WOULD REALISE THAT HER VALUE IS DETERMINED BY THE PLACE SHE IS IN, RATHER THAN THE OPINIONS OF THE PEOPLE SHE'S SURROUNDED BY.

PHOTO BY BHUVANA TAMILMARAN

The Too Big Coat Tia M. Mani

CAN A PERSON TRULY CHANGE, OR DO THEY SIMPLY PEEL BACK LAYERS TO REVEAL WHO THEY’VE ALWAYS BEEN? LATELY, IT SEEMS THAT I HAVE FOSTERED A DEEP HATRED TOWARDS THE WORD “HOME”. WHAT DO I CALL HOME? THE APARTMENT WHERE I GREW UP, NOW FILLED WITH ANOTHER FAMILY'S MEMORIES? THE FAMILY HOUSE IN A VILLAGE I DON’T VISIT? OR THE MUNDANE NEIGHBOURHOOD IN THE SILENT CITY, BLAND TO MY COLOURED PALETTE? THESE ARE ALL HOMES TO SOMEONE, BUT SIMPLY HOUSES TO ME. IMMIGRATION STORIES ALWAYS SEEMED LIKE CLICHÉS UNTIL I FOUND MYSELF LIVING ONE. I WAS FORTUNATE —RAISED IN A LOVING FAMILY, WITH A COMFORTABLE LIFE AND SOLID EDUCATION—BUT NOW I CAN’T HELP BUT FEEL CONFLICTED. I’VE COME TO WISH FOR SOME SORT OF RESENTMENT TOWARDS MY COUNTRY, WISHING FOR THE DRAMATIC ESCAPE OF A REFUGEE FLEEING WAR—JOYFUL TO LEAVE —WHEN IN REALITY, MY ROOTS RAN DEEP. MY COMMUNITY AND CULTURE FORMED A PROTECTIVE CANOPY AROUND ME, ONE I NEVER REALISED I’D HAVE TO LEAVE BEHIND. THE MOVE FELT AS THOUGH RUGGED HANDS HAD VIOLENTLY WRENCHED ME FROM MY FAMILIAR ROOTS, LIKE A STUBBORN WEED RIPPED CARELESSLY FROM THE EARTH, AND TOSSED ME INTO A FOREIGN LANDSCAPE THAT OFFERED NO SANCTUARY. THE CHILLING WIND ASSAULTED MY SKIN, ITS BITING TENDRILS CREEPING BENEATH MY CLOTHES, WHILE THE RELENTLESS SUN UNLEASHED ITS OPPRESSIVE HEAT UPON MY BODY, LEAVING ME EXPOSED AND VULNERABLE. AROUND ME, PEOPLE MOVED AS IF THEY WERE ALWAYS MEANT TO BE HERE, THEIR LIVES FLOWING EFFORTLESSLY IN RHYTHM WITH THE STREETS, WHILE I STUMBLED LIKE A MISPLACED PUZZLE PIECE. MY NEW HOME WAS A FOREIGN LANDSCAPE, BUSTLING AND HISTORICAL, YET ALIEN TO MY SOUL. I FELT INVISIBLE AMID CROWDS, A SHADOW OF MYSELF, HAUNTED BY THE OVERWHELMING CONTRAST BETWEEN WHAT I HAD KNOWN AND WHAT I WAS NOW FORCED TO EMBRACE. IT FELT LIKE A NEW COAT, ONE I DID NOT QUITE FIT INTO BUT WAS TOLD I WOULD GROW INTO EVENTUALLY. THERE IS A DEEP, UNSETTLING DISCOMFORT IN MY BONES, A DISCONNECT THAT LINGERS BETWEEN ME AND THE WORLD I NOW INHABIT. I’VE TRIED TO BRIDGE THE GAP BETWEEN WHERE I CAME FROM AND WHERE I AM NOW, BUT THE DISTANCE FEELS INSURMOUNTABLE.

IT’S AS THOUGH WITH EVERY STEP I TAKE FORWARD, I LEAVE BEHIND FRAGMENTS OF MYSELF. THE TRADITIONS I ONCE HELD DEAR NOW FEEL LIKE RELICS, CHERISHED YET OUT OF PLACE. I FIND MYSELF WONDERING IF I’M BETRAYING WHO I WAS—IF LEAVING BEHIND MY HOME, MY PEOPLE, MY CULTURE MEANS I HAVE TO ABANDON THE ESSENCE OF WHO I AM. BUT STILL, I AM TAKING STEPS FORWARD. EACH STEP, THOUGH HEAVY WITH THE WEIGHT OF WHAT I’VE LEFT BEHIND, IS ALSO AN ACT OF GROWTH. WITH EVERY AWKWARD STUMBLE IN THIS NEW LIFE, I AM CARVING OUT A SPACE FOR MYSELF THAT DIDN’T EXIST BEFORE. THERE IS A QUIET STRENGTH IN CONTINUING TO MOVE FORWARD, EVEN WHEN THE PATH FEELS UNCERTAIN. IT’S A RESILIENCE I DIDN’T KNOW I HAD, THE KIND THAT EMERGES WHEN YOU PUSH PAST THE DISCOMFORT OF CHANGE AND BEGIN TO EMBRACE THE POSSIBILITY OF REINVENTION. STILL, I STRUGGLE TO MAKE ROOM FOR BOTH THE PAST AND THE PRESENT WITHIN ME, TO RECONCILE THE PERSON I WAS WITH THE PERSON I’M BECOMING. IT’S AS IF I’M WALKING A LINE BETWEEN TWO SELVES, CONSTANTLY SHIFTING, ADJUSTING, TRYING TO BE BOTH THE ONE WHO LEFT AND THE ONE WHO STAYED. BUT IN THIS DANCE BETWEEN TWO IDENTITIES, I AM BEGINNING TO REALIZE THAT THERE IS NO PERFECT “RECONCILIATION”. THE IDEA OF BELONGING TO ONLY ONE PLACE, OF FINDING A DEFINITIVE "HOME," NO LONGER FEELS ATTAINABLE. I AM NO LONGER JUST THE PERSON I WAS BEFORE; I AM A PRODUCT OF BOTH THE PAST I CARRY WITH ME AND THE FUTURE I AM STILL TRYING TO NAVIGATE. AND IN THAT FLUIDITY, THERE IS FREEDOM. I NO LONGER NEED TO FIT NEATLY INTO ONE BOX, INTO ONE IDEA OF WHAT HOME OR IDENTITY SHOULD BE. I AM NOT JUST A PRODUCT OF MY PAST, NOR AM I ENTIRELY SHAPED BY MY PRESENT. I AM BOTH, AND MORE. I AM THE SUM OF EVERYTHING I HAVE BEEN, EVERYTHING I AM BECOMING, AND EVERYTHING I HAVE YET TO DISCOVER. PERHAPS THIS IS WHAT IT MEANS TO BELONG—NOT TO A SINGLE PLACE OR A SINGLE IDENTITY, BUT TO THE MULTIPLICITY OF EXPERIENCES THAT FORM THE MOSAIC OF WHO WE ARE. IT IS MESSY, COMPLICATED, AND EVER-SHIFTING. BUT IN THAT MESS, I AM FINDING MY PLACE, NOT IN A PLACE, BUT IN THE JOURNEY ITSELF. THIS PAST YEAR I HAVE LEARNT HOME ISN'T A PLACE AT ALL. IT IS THE CULMINATION OF ALL THE PLACES THAT HAVE SHAPED ME, THE PEOPLE I'VE MET, AND THE EXPERIENCES THAT HAVE TWISTED AND STRETCHED MY PERCEPTION OF WHO I AM. I CAN NO LONGER CALL THAT DISTANT CITY 'HOME', NOR CAN I FULLY EMBRACE THE PLACE I LIVE NOW. I MUST RECONCILE WITH BOTH PARTS OF MYSELF—THE ONE THAT ONCE BELONGED TO THE SOIL OF MY OLD LAND AND THE ONE THAT MUST ADAPT TO SURVIVE IN A NEW ONE. MY ROOTS ARE TAKING HOLD AGAIN—NOT AS DEEPLY, BUT SPREADING WIDE, AND IT FEELS AS THOUGH I AM FINALLY GROWING INTO THIS NEW COAT I'VE BEEN WEARING.

PHOTO BY VINIZ CACERES

2024 has been a year of opportunities and growth for The Atlas Domain. We hope and strive to further push this literary organization to exceed its limits to be the avenue for writers’ passions and skills. The Atlas Domain is sure to forge the unwritten in 2025!

VINIZ CACERES ORGANIZATION HEAD

SHER LOYOLA TEACHER PARTNER VICTORIOUS HOMESCHOOL

Th

in

s D a l o t m A a e

FORGE THE UNWRITTEN

A Pile of Ends | 2024 Encapsulated Collection