Carpe diem

You know what's the most inevitable part of leaving college? You would actually notice every little thing that is happening in and around the campus and might as well say, "Man, I'm gonna miss this!" over and over again daily, eventually it becomes your daily routine. I swear I'm trying not to get all sad and sentimental now. I barely have, what, four and a half months this semester to graduate and to get the hell out of St. Francis. (trust me, all the final year students feel the same)You may say that it is a lot at hand, but I know one thing for sure, time would just fly by, with a blink of an eye. And who would have thought I would start missing my college so much even before I graduate. Yes, I hated my college. Yes, I mocked my teachers. Yes, I've pulled out quite a few pranks et cetera, and in return, this college has given me much more than what I have asked for. Image Courtesy: I robbed it from the college facebook page. Like the brat I've al...

You know what they say about being a teacher these days? It is not an easy job to teach the kids, be patient with them, answer their silly questions, read and correct those test papers, but having said all of that, they are not against the profession or anything, they just don't see it as a 'career option' anymore. Now, who are 'they', don't ask me. Tell me, if they were no teachers, would I even think of writing this and would you be reading whatever I wrote? No, right? Maybe we can never tell them how much they ,mean to us and our gratitude is never enough to show them all our love, also, they would not ask us to do things for them. The least we could do is thank them from the bottom of our hearts and not look down upon the teachers and teaching, as a profession. The only thing that a teacher feels happy and proud about, is not the top scores the students get or the fancy greeting cards and gifts he/she gets on Teacher's Day, (or their birthdays) but it...

He found her personal diary while clearing the cupboard. There was a lot of dust on the hard bound cover of the book. It had been 5 years since he stepped inside that room. He hesitated a bit but couldn't fight his conscience that kept saying “it’s her personal diary, you’re not supposed to read”, “Sorry”, he said loud enough for her to hear.  A photograph fell near his feet when he opened the diary. He bent to pick it up and a smile lingered on his face. It was taken almost 8 years back when he took her to Paris on a holiday. They asked a local man to take a picture of them standing in front of the Eiffel Tower. The man yelled something which she didn't understand, but he did and in response yelled back, “si, monsieur!” Right when the man was about to take the picture, he took her face into his hands and kissed her gently. He broke the kiss only to chuckle when he saw her eyes widen in surprise. The man gave the camera back to him and spoke in a thick French voice. He replied...

On The Other Side Of The Fence. The contrast is striking. Lives couldn't be more different, thoughts not wider apart and moods as contrasting. As compared to the dark, cruel and the vividly dangerous I’m used to, I see light. Normalcy is not my way of life.  A blot on a paper fair. A crack in a castle of glass. This is what this shall be. But I persist. I persist to see the light that seems to be trying to break free of the darkness that surrounds me. I persist to embrace the peace and tranquil that accompanies normalcy, if only for a moment. I fight the darkness that resides so normally among my thoughts. This seems abnormal, my mind startlingly clear. Seems like I've gone over the fence. Did I? Does the grass seem greener here? Maybe it does. Or it could only be the perception of a mind whose senses have been dulled by dreary deserts that light and greenery seems greener than ever. I digress.  So sticking to the norm of this place, I shall strive to complete my thoug...

You were sitting there, all by yourself. I was standing with a book in my hand, across the hall. It took some time for me to notice you. Of course, you didn't catch my eye right away.   At first I thought, ‘awkward eye contact’. And when I looked up again, you were still staring at me. That was a bit creepy, until I saw this smile playing on your lips. Your face was hard to read then, and is even now. The way your eyes glowed in the shadows of the dark walls. The kind of sound you made when you laughed, out loud. The silvery voice that is so mysterious when you spoke. Every little detail is up there in my head, never fading. I wasn't planning on telling you all of this, about how I felt. But I often had caught myself saying, “if only you knew.” Soumya Inavilli

Every girl needs that one guy best friend in her life. She deserves at least one. When it comes to us girls, yes, we are daddy's princesses and brother's precious love. But there's no one who can replace or substitute a guy BFF, because he's the best and you know it. Like how Harry Potter is to Hermione Granger, these guys are to us. One who takes our side, one who is ready to fight for us, and one who does not act desperate. I've always secretly wished for my own version of the Harry-Hermione friendship. As much as we love our girl friends, we might have never told our guy best friends how much they mean to us (no, I'm not talking about those friend-zoned characters) Here's why you should not take him for granted and thank him often.  He has a solution for all your problems. Trust me, this guy will be the first person who will make an effort to know what went wrong and he will never fail to come up with an answer for your questions. He's like ...

Revathi's eyes had some kind of a charm in them. Every time he looked at her, they shone brightly like the summer sun. Over the next few weeks, he often went to her house. He was even doing errands for the family. He had become his boss's favourite. And whenever he was there, he couldn't concentrate on the work until he saw her. Revathi too used to wait for him to come home. All she needed was an excuse like serve water or get a file, for her to meet him. They communicated with each other in a way which didn't involve words. Her smile had a thousand different meanings which only he could decipher. His eyes told her many stories which only she could hear. Both of them loved each other in a language which only they understood. While all of this was going on, none of the others in the story had even a faint idea about it. Except for one. Revathi's mother. Brought up in an orthodox Zamindar family, Revathi's mother isn't someone who would get along with the c...

This one line is enough to get you curious. Remember the last time you were all excited to read a book or watch a horror movie just because the story line was 'based on a true story'? Well, you might have thought "can this happen in real life?" or have said, "this is all cooked up, it's too good to be true.", like me. But these stories aren't fiction or fragments of the writer's imagination. Like my mother says, "You don't have to hunt down for stories, they come from us. They are a part of us." Here is one of the stories I've come across last week. 35 years ago. (or some 40 years ago) He was the only child in his family. His father had settled in the city of Hyderabad to earn a living. His mother took care of the household while her husband was struggling to get a decent job. They didn't inherit any riches from their forefathers neither could they afford the high school education. They weren't too poor or somethi...

I was standing behind the curtains backstage, there were a lot of people hustling in there. My teachers too were running around the place, trying to find some papers, and calling out names, making their students stand in a line. My Math teacher came up to me and I could tell for sure with the smile on her face that she was pleased to see me after I left the college. I wasn't her favourite student or anything, but I wasn't a bad student either. "Come and stand here Soumya, the prize distribution is right after this dance performance", she instructed and I had to join the long queue behind the stage along with my batch mates. It was an year ago, at my college annual day celebrations, the college hall was filled with freshers and their parents. Few of my juniors congratulated me while I was waiting in the line. God, I miss this place, I kept repeating that to myself. No matter how much I cursed the college during those two years of my stay there, at the end of the day...

Puck: Yet but three? Come one more;  two of both kinds make up four.           [Enter Hermia.] Here she comes, curst and sad:  Cupid is a knavish lad, thus to make poor females mad. A Midsummer's Night Dream,  3.2.440 Shakespeare, William. 450th birthday weekend! Straight from the archives, I've written this a couple of months back.  Presenting, 'After effects of reading Shakespearean plays.'  Shakespeare said, "expectation is the root to all heartache." She said she didn't want much from him, but waited for him to talk. She said she loved talking to him, but thought he would love her. She said she doesn't care for him, but silently prayed for him. She said she finds him weird, but knows he is different from the rest. She said she can’t be with him, but wished he would never leave. She said she wasn't expecting anything, but realized ...

"What if I told you that  love  is stronger than gravity?", he said. She simply smiled at him and looked away. "No, really. Now I know why I am so attracted to you", he sat beside her and took her hand into his, feeling her soft skin, he tightened his grip. "You think we should let Sir Issac Newton know about it?", she mocked him. "I am sure as hell he already knew about it quite well, remember what he said, ' Gravitation is not responsible for people falling in love.'" "That was Albert Einstein, genius", she cannot be wrong he thought.  "But, you got my point, right?", he looked into her eyes, expectantly. "Which is trying to prove that you got bored studying that book on Astrophysics", she winked. "No, my point is to prove that my heart races like one of those Schumi's cars when I am around you and every single cell in my body inflates with happiness when I am thinking about you and probably...

Tomorrow is the last day of another academic year at the college. Disclaimer: This isn't a post about how I'm crying out my heart because I'm going to miss my seniors. Or may be it is. From the past few weeks I was a bit excited with this whole farewell party business. When I discussed about the party with my seniors and told them that I'll miss them a wee bit more than ever, they simply said, "It's not actually a good-bye." It all comes down to this one point where all the excitement drains out of your system and nostalgia takes over. And here I am, looking at all those pictures of my seniors that I've clicked, laughing at the silliest puns and unintelligible jokes and sharing amazing food and bike/auto rides. 2 years of bonding and a few more hours to go to bid them farewell. No, I'm not being sentimental. What makes me write this post are those little things that we usually think are meant for killing time. Those times spent talking, not ...

No no, I'm not this kind of a person who likes red roses and big box of chocolates, waiting for solitaires and candle light dinners. But yes, like many of the girls who just can't stop watching Disney love stories over and over again, I have this one favourite movie which I can never get bored of. (I've watched this one for like, say 86 times, may be?) If there is a choice between a romantic-comedy and an Arnold Schwarzenegger movie, I'd always root for Commando or Terminator or Total Recall.or True Lies. Lovey dovey stuff bores me to death and like Damon Salvatore from The Vampire Dairies said and I quote, "I've been in love. It's painful, pointless and overrated." And as much as I enjoy fairy tales, the fact that they are far from reality spoils all the fun. But look what Disney has done to me. The Beauty And The Beast, released in 1991 is the Disney version of the French  traditional fairy tale. The whole movie is filled with enchantment, it is a...