Spardha '14!

As I set foot on in Banaras, I observed that it was a lot warmer than I’d been expecting. We stepped out of the railway station, close to midday. We were ushered into waiting SUV’s and whisked off to the BHU campus. Of course, we were here to participate in IIT-BHU’s Sports Fest, Spardha ’14.

Once on campus, I was greeted by an old friend; a friend by correspondence. We immediately took off; I knew not where. We walked out of ‘Hyderabad Gate’ of the BHU campus. We stopped by his favourite chai shop and I got myself some tea. One of my team-mates had come along; she sat looking at us, as an unknown figure pulled his bike to a stop and joined us. We were soon introduced to bike-guy. Rahul and I strolled leisurely, picking up cold-drinks and snacks, while bike-guy took off with Sana.

By 1:00 p.m., we were all perched in various spots, over at bike-guy’s house. We sat around, talking. Aditya & Rahul related stories centred on random odds & ends and had us in splits, the whole time.
We also met Aditya’s flat-mate, Nikhil, albeit briefly, before walking back to the Girls’ Hostel on campus at around 3:30 p.m. There were about eighty girls, from 12-14 colleges, all housed in one large common room. Our team had picked a corner and we parked our stuff, took baths and tried to decide on a course of action, for the evening.
A couple of girls left to see the city and get some shopping done while I made my way to pick up the fixtures for the Women’s matches. I then accompanied Rahul to the Kashi Vishwanath Mandir on campus. A majestic structure, an area buzzing with activity.
By 5:30, a couple of my team-mates and me were at the Basketball court, watching the matches that had just begun. We then decided to grab a bite, first trying the food stalls that had been set up in the field adjacent to the basketball court and later making our way to the Mandir, for the road leading to the mandir had a host of eating places. We picked up roasted peanuts and were on our merry way. It was only about 6:30 p.m., but, it was already looking like midnight, gauging by the sky.

The sole women’s basketball game scheduled for the day began at 7 p.m. with us watching. Our boys’ badminton team won their first match, and our sports fest chapter began on a good note.
By 8:30, one of my team-mates and I were meeting new people, courtesy Rahul. By 9:30, all the ladies who’d gone shopping were back to campus.
At 9:30, Rahul, his friends and I left campus on two bikes and headed to Assi Ghat. All the way there, I looked around eagerly, trying to take in as much of Banaras as possible. We were then settled by the river, though it was too dark for me to be able to actually see any water. We walked along the Ghats, I believe there are 84 of them along the river, for around an hour before heading over to Aditya’s house.
We sat talking; later, Aditya’s flatmate read out a series of beautifully written poems while I merely gaped. We then moved to the terrace, gazed at the stars, Rahul played music and we talked.

There was a Women’s Basketball Match that morning i.e. 6:30 a.m., on the 31st of October. We made our way towards campus, stopping to have tea on the way. Once there, we realised that the match would then begin only at 8:30 a.m. An impromptu plan sprung up; soon, we were at Ravidas Ghat, watching the sun come up. The sun simmering gently, rapidly where it hit the water kept us staring in silence.
We were on the court, with the rest of the team, by 8:30 a.m. We sat watching the Women’s Basketball game, where both the teams in our pool battled it out. Our Boys’ Volleyball team, meanwhile, managed to get disheartened and lose a match that they might have won. We were then informed that our Volleyball match, which was scheduled to happen at 6 in the evening, would instead be played at 10:15 i.e. in about half an hour. One of our team members (and, we had exactly the requisite six) was to arrive only by mid-day. We had a hard time explaining this rather simple concept to the organizers. We then agreed to play a 5-man team, without rotation; then, the match was re-scheduled again, back to its original slot.

We had our first Volleyball match at 2 p.m. Unfortunately, while we won the first set, we lost the match. It was disheartening, but, we quickly moved on. This was mainly because we were rather hungry. We made our way to the Girls’ Hostel canteen and ate all that they had on offer. Of course, about a dozen cups of tea were involved too.
The opening ceremony of Spardha ’14 was scheduled to begin at 4 p.m. It felt like my school sports day, all over again. Contingents from different colleges stood, all perfectly lined up for march-past, around the large ground. Each contingent also had a leader who stood at the head of the contingent, bearing the college flag. It was nice to see the IIM-Indore flag, blue on white, fluttering in the breeze.

As soon as the opening ceremony was over, we made our way to the Volleyball court, for our second match of the day only to learn that it had been postponed. Our Volleyball and Basketball matches both happened at 9 p.m., one after the other. After the match, we were once again settled in the Girls’ Hostel canteen, drinking cup after cup of hot, steaming tea.

We had our last Volleyball match on the morning of the 1st; the match was great fun! Afternoon was spent getting information about the best eating places in Banaras – pan, chaat, chicken and mithai! Before the match at 5, we wandered through the winding lanes of Banaras, watching the world go by. After winning the match, we decided to enact our plan. Almost the entire girls’ team went out to explore Banaras, more specifically to explore the food that Banaras had to offer! We managed to eat all the chaat on offer- tamatar ki chaat , pani puri, dahi puri, papdi chaat, safed matar ki chaat!
Post dinner, we walked around, exploring the IIT-BHU campus- the academic buildings and even the hostels are designed to look like temples! And, each building is at least 50 years old, some even a 100!

The Women’s Basketball Semi-final was early the next morning. We fought hard, but, lost to the home team by a small margin. I felt really bad, and, behaving like a sore loser, ran off the court as soon as the final whistle was blown. I then called up Rahul, from a borrowed phone, for I had no clue about the whereabouts of my own. When that call refused to connect, I decided to try my luck at contacting Aditya. Unfortunately, I seemed to remember only 3 digits of his 10-digit mobile number. I took a chance with the other 7 and somehow got lucky in my first and only try! I then went off to meet my BHU friends, being careful to avoid meeting any of my team-mates, for I did not really feel up to it.
We sat talking all afternoon and maggi was eaten. Evening was spent walking along the ghats, with two of my team-mates, Rahul & Aditya. We even floated diyas down the Gang. The evening ended with plans to go see the sunrise, early next morning and a nice dinner. Of course, the dinner was followed up and preceded by Banaras ka paan!
We decided that the only way to make it to the early morning plan was to stay up all night! We then settled ourselves in the Girls’ Hostel canteen, one more time! We left campus at around 5 , on the morning of 3rd November. We tried to soak in as much of Banaras as we could, in the few hours that we had before we caught an 11:20 train. We even went around the BHU campus, saw the auditorium, the buildings of various departments, the large fields maintained by the Agricultural Science department and even sat by the fish ponds maintained by the Veterinary Sciences department.

Soon, luggage gathered, memories collected, we made our way to the station. We stood around eating hot samosas while we waited for our slightly delayed train. Then, waving good-bye to Aditya, who’d accompanied us to the station, we left Banaras, with memories to last a lifetime.

Unquestioned.

A hope set alight by promises.
Promises of a new dawn and his.
His companionship unquestioned forever.
Forever unwavering, steady never.

Never before had she dreamt.
Dreamt of a world that so much meant.
Meant to be built on love.
Love as a giving, received from above.

Above & beyond where the sky larks live.
Live in a misshapen exchange of give.
Give in to an unquenched fear.
Fear of a mind that hadn’t seen tears.

Tears wet her cheeks and fall.
Fall across into a river; she stands tall.
Tall, frighteningly dull, turned grey.
Grey, damp dresses on a hot May day.

Day turning to the next night.
Night without a trace of love or stars.
Stars hiding, mute spectators to it all.
All burnt down to leave one unidentifiable scrawl.

Real ?

I’m unsure of what I feel for you now.
Or I know but don’t understand how.
A straight path with countless bends.
I feel, I wouldn’t want to comprehend.

Away, lost in a recycle-bin of Paradise.
A tangled web of lies and good-byes.
Unsure, unaware, uncertain gazing.
Memories and tries that need no erasing.

Of soft cloth and dying embers.
Of a future which everyone remembers.
Silk, pulled apart into strings.
Strikes on hot iron & new beginnings.

Unsteady footing on a path untrodden.
A flicker of times lay gone in the modern.
Sightless windows & visionless widows.
Open skies, factory dust & cawing crows.

Dragging on, endlessly, for a whim.
Brightly lit tunnels on tracks dim.
A stone cold heart, burning warm.
Shaking, certain a steadfast storm.

4-line Poems.

Heart Break # 1

Roses for lips & pearls for eyes
You got me caught in your web of lies
I waited; I was scared
Jilted, I no longer cared.

Still & Forever # 1

Lost, I met you along the way
An angel risen from above
My love grows strong, each day
I’m head over heels in love!


New Found # 1

I smiled, if by chance.
A half-minute long glance.
A thousand sweet nothings later
I knew I was smitten with her



Heart Break # 2
The joy of a thousand kisses
The wronged, unintended blisses
Carried on a wave, out to sea
Drowning me in misery

Still & Forever # 2

Words & roses in a graceful line
It isn’t her first, it isn’t mine
In the threatening green of a glen
It is now, it will be then.

New Found # 2

He held my hand that evening
He spoke of people & happenings
He let slip every thought he did conceive
He wouldn’t let go, when I turned to leave.

Heart Break # 3

Lying, escaping, staring at the ceiling
Meaning to catch that unwavering feeling
Acceptance is unthinkable; it’s really gone.
I hold no claim ; it was here this morn.

Still & Forever # 3

I married him here, twelve years ago
That we’d be here again, I didn’t know
He sits across the table, a young girl walks by
His eyes don’t waver, he sees none but I.


New Found # 3

It was then that I knew
My heart fluttered, his flew.
While he stared at me
I found myself staring too.

Patriotism- Our 67th Independence Day- A day of silent pride.

A land of promises and dreams, a land of passions and life
A land of joy and beliefs, a land of love and strife.
An idea of change , change for the against.
A game without killing, for unexplained disdain.

India- the country of my birth, O! country of mine
Holy, with sacred grooves and flowing rivers divine.
Tiny rivulets of gushing earthy ice
Cardamom and saffron, red curries and spice.

An oasis of villages amidst deserts of grainy sand.
Lofty peaks, frozen, a heavenly abode on land.
Modern cities of civilizations long past
Lost in tea-gardens, an unfortunate last.

Sun-kissed beaches and deep-rooted taboos
Salty breeze, ideologies left-skewed.
Temples, mosques, churches- sanctity & quiet.
Forgotten by-lanes, communal riots.

Gossipy tea-shops engaging child labour
Steady-anchored speed-boats at harbours.
Lit-pigeon hole skylines
Countless hermit-filled shrines

Might Rivers and a heart of tribal gold
Lying side-by-side, towns new & old.
Granaries full of wheat and starving mouths
Existing, uncreated borders- north to south.

Cemented thatch-roofed huts
Paddy crop and swaying palms of coconut
Uninterrupted forests and domestic garbage
Opportunities to grab, lives to gauge.

Crowded bazaars and dingy lanes
Seas, mountains, deserts and green plains.
An untraceable, untouched mix of culture
Dance & drama to watch, songs to hear


Vast stretches of far and near
Strong-willed heroes and martyr.
Unquestioned, whisperingly gallant
Set in stone, the nonchalant.



Differences together, similarities distant
Ephemeral smells, none transient.
Happiness, colours iridescent
Memories vivid, stories deliquescent

A land of too much, an all-encompassing chase
Colourful people to hear, ideas to praise
Adulterated natural beauty and pure
My country of Everything and more.

First Prose in as long as I can remember!

And, they were all present in that room, all prepared & excited. No one really understood, maybe a quarter knew. She strolled in. The classroom, yes, it was a classroom, was large -- designed to look like NC-2 , but, the rows were longer. The seating all ended, very clear of the walls, maybe 1 metre at least or perhaps even 5 at max. Everyone sat neatly arranged in the seats. They were from different countries. I, I think I was from India. At least, my mind seemed to think so, but, when it came to comparing times across different time zones, the time shown on my watch wasn't the IST. It just wasn't. I thought it was, but, it just did not match. Rohan, yes, that was most certainly him, sat a row ahead of me. Someone at the back, in the other half of the classroom said that they were from the Maldives. The map of the island shot into my head. Wow. Then, Rohan spoke, " I'm from Baldives". And, he paused. “Baldives? “. "Baldives." " Baldives?" "Baldives." It took a couple of back-and-forth of 'Baldives' before the questioning party realized that he was indeed saying ‘Maldives.’ It clicked in my head at about the same time too. She shot a couple of questions. The girl on my left tried to answer one , but, wasn’t allowed to, for the R&D team wasn’t supposed to answer that one. Each team had mysteriously designated questions ; it wasn’t explicitly announced that the next question was for the Sponsorships team, but, the R&D & the Marketing were expected to realize that they are not to answer.

And, then, we were there. The icy cold hit us. No, wait, it didn’t hit us. It was there, welcoming us. The transition was almost seamless. I do not remember how many nights we were to spend in this warm, icy place. We reached our hotel, pausing to ensure that everyone did indeed get a room. The hotel was magnificent . It stood, tall, with emerald green and wood panelling on the whole front wall. There were sharply rising doors of steely glass. Each had a handle – silvery grey, long, rather very long, almost as if each handle seemed to know that more than one person would be clutching him at once. It was cold. The handles were metal, they looked metal, they were not very cold. I held onto one, it glistened In the soft sunlight. A single ray of light appeared to fall on the top part of the right handle , at a 45 degree angle. The ray of light cut across the door, colouring the lower half of the left handle at a lower angle. The parts where the sunlight fell were warmer. The handles themselves, of course , were only ornamental, for the doors were automatic. The large plates of steely glass swung inward, moving very smoothly. Ah, technology!

Once inside, each of us was allotted our rooms. The whole place looked like a community living area. There was a large central empty space, tiled with square-ish, yellow-grey tiles. The yellow was almost like a shade of desert sand & sunflowers seamlessly blended into one. The central yellow was lined with walls, about 3 feet high. They were white on the side that faced the yellow and blue on the other, which faced the brown. Each wall had on top a matt-black railing, about half a foot in height and cylindrical in shape. Around this central open area were brown doors, placed at regular intervals. For each brown door, there was a green door, placed at a precise 90 degree angle to it.
Each brown door was assigned to one of the persons in our group. One, placed diagonally across from the entrance , along the left side was mine. I remember putting my luggage down , there, but, I never stayed there. As soon as night fell, I was in the corner-most room, closest to the entrance. I liked how easily Angaee and me understood each other . She had, without any requisite communication moved my luggage into this new room ,possibly her original allotment and had fallen asleep in mine.


We stepped out the next morning. To the right of the hotel was this vast expanse of pristine blue water that seemed to stretch out till almost the same depth as our hotel. The water was flowing, yet, it was as still as it was blue. The tall, slanting slide of ice stood, slanting down into the water. Rising high, almost upright out of the Earth’s surface , stood one end of it, a large vertical wall. As icy, but, less blue, it had frigid, chalky white water flowing off the top, almost as if flowing off a steep cliff. The water appeared to froth, appearing colourless, then, frothy as it crossed over across the perfectly orthogonal bend, and finally chalky white with a touch of brownish-yellow was it fell in straight, flowing sheets across the mighty vertical surface. And, the slanting slide, glistening in the sun like unscathed crystal. Of course, we knew that is was only flawless ice, the kind that could be seen only here, in a whole realm untouched by any human presence. The Arctic. The North Pole. The top of the world. And, the entire pristine , icy blue scene looked just as I remembered from my last visit. Ah, my last visit. It had been less eventful than this one was to be, but, I did so many activities that time just wouldn’t permit this time. Nothing could beat that feeling of feeling the icy cold of the yellowed ice wall as I struck hand after hand against it, scaling the whole mammoth length of it, to the very top. And, then, the cool of the glistening crystal that was the slide, as I sat myself down on it, prepared to slide down all the kilometres to the water. Hitting the water with the curtness of finality and then swimming across , savouring the smell of the unscathed frigid, every minute. I’d done it only once, that last time, but, every pore of my being tingled with the memory of that sensation, as I stood, with the rest of my group, each set of eyes transfixed on one of the wonders , wonders so wonderful that only Nature could have created them. And, all the eyes continued to stare, with growing wonder, as a chalky white ball of ice, slightly brown from rolling, spun slowly about itself, moving down the slide . As it hit the water, the water splashed, drenching all of us. As the cascade of icy water hit me, soaking my every inch, I felt a surge of memories and joy.

The next time, I was at my window, watching the same icy ball, rolling down again, just as it had.
That night, Hrishikesh , Pranav & co were at work, playing the new, Anshik-designed version of Dungeons & Dragons. I remember peeking in and overhearing fragments of conversation that made almost no sense to me. But, they did sound intricate and knowledgeable about whatever it was that they were discussing.

Arihant. He probably wasn’t big on the whole ‘group adventure’ thing. Anyway, the group had likely departed. We got to this other thing that I’d been meaning to try. The ice ‘boat’ of sorts looked like it was designed for two, but, of course, single persons were welcome. I closed my eyes and opened them to see this icy, gloomy, glowing tunnel. The tunnel was long, winding, with just a hint of sunlight falling through the ceiling that provided visibility. The floor was slippery, crystal-like ice. The walls were chalky white, and slightly brownish in patches. I felt the desired cooling sensation, from the icy air against my arms and the openness in my heart. The tunnel seemed to go on for ever, so beautiful, so inviting. It was as if the tunnel just wanted you to be there, explore every cranny, feel against your warm human hand, each scratch of ice and just fall in love. Hence the two, perhaps. We moved along the tunnel, revelling in its icy charm, looking at nothing but the slippery white floor beneath and the calm on the other’s face, looking with nothing but awe and love.

The tunnel came to this fork, where one of the prongs seemed to continue along the same tunnel, icy , frosty but the other seemed to open into an almost oblong area with a higher ceiling than the rest of the tunnel. The ceiling appeared to be thinner, almost a criss-cross of ice arranged like the fine threads of a spider’s web. Of course, being ever the fantastic, I had to pick the prong less travelled. Arihant is boring and all conventional. Perhaps , there is some truth in the idea of ‘opposites attract’ . Promising to meet him outside, for he wished to continue along the tunnel, further into the ice and then to the outside, I got off the ‘icy-boat-for-two’ and walked ahead. What I saw was spell-bounding. There were these women. They were most definitely human, I thought, but, somehow, they didn’t feel quite so human. With plastered smiles and high-cheek bones, they seemed to seamlessly drift across the tunnel, past the walls, through the ice, along the frost . Every one of them had eyes, deep-set, full of emotion , hollow , wandering , silent. They did not seem to feel the cold. They wore long skirts in bright pastel colours, long, almost translucent skirts in bright pastel colours with small white dots arranged in an intricate pattern. They were all smiling, effortlessly, like it needed so much conscious attention to perform that simple task, yet, the smiles did not fade. The cold they radiated probably kept them from feeling the frozen around them, they were perhaps so warm that the cold was respite . They continually poured and carried buckets of water, all along the shiny ice floor, the renewal of the top ice-layer kept it clear, clean, even with the marks that the ‘icy-boat-for-two’ ought to leave. The water in the buckets was not hot, it was encased in this ice tunnel yet it did not freeze, and, they kept pouring. I walked past them, smiling. They smiled back , taking no notice of me. I went past the clearing to find a frozen flight of stairs to my fantasy. I walked up, taking care not to slip, for I could not muster the seeming grace of the ephemeral women who were forever. I walked up one flight to see nothing except another flight. I realised that the tunnel had perhaps led us underground and I would have to ascend to exit. Climbing the second flight, I happened to see another one of the beautiful women. I asked her the way to the outside. Her gaze was so loving, her gaze seemed to bore holes , right through me and into the hard ice wall, I could see the sympathy, almost empathy in her eyes. “Outside ? There is no outside.” I just kept looking back at her, at the entire ice-cased surrounding around her . I tried to enunciate but the words would not form. I heard a high-pitched voice. It was only my own.
“The Arctic Novel has been read, both parts; you read the first part the last time when you’d gone ice-wall scaling and you’re now done reading the second part. Leave, go to the ‘Midnight’s Children’, now.” It seemed like a very sensible suggestion. I was glad that I had finished reading a novel, it had been a while since I’d done some ‘good’ reading. I decided to leave. But, hadn’t the lady just told me that there was no outside?

I looked at myself, almost from a top-view. I was sleeping, it was all a dream. I only had to move , wake up and I would obviously be outside again, in the country that I recognized as home, not in the Arctic. I was conscious, not asleep anymore, I had to be, for I was giving myself this advice. It seemed to be even a dream within a dream. I screamed. I screamed thrice. The dream-me watching the me sleeping in the dream heard sleeping-me scream. It had to be over. I was awake. I could open my eyes. I saw my right hand, close to my head that lay on my red –patterned pillow . I moved my right hand upwards, to force my eyes open, for they did not seem to heed to the electric impulses that my brain kept frantically sending, repeatedly. I moved my hand up to my left eye and pried it open. Only, the me-watching from the top view saw me turn , from facing the wall my bed rests against to facing the other side of the room. I screamed again. Sound ought to wake me up from this increasing panic. I looked again at the hand I had moved to my eyes. My hand had not moved. My brain felt it move, my brain made it move, my fingertips sent confirmatory impulses saying that my hand had indeed pried my left eye open, but my open eye seemed to see an unmoved hand. I moved frantically, with writhing, troubled movements. My brain felt every movement. The lady with the icy glaze for a gaze saw my every movement and simply said, “There is no outside.” I screamed, a scream that was lost forever and found.

Four. Four and a half.
A crimson, wistful laugh.
Four score & many more.
Effects & Ideas to soar.


Far away & still nearby.
I’ve never understood why.
I can’t fathom; I’ll never believe.
So much. I couldn’t want to sieve.


Keep you close & let you go.
I’m scared, I will never know.
Sail across the seven seas.
Ponder. Halt where I should be.



Except I don’t know. I would not
want to be at that unsought.
I climb, I fall.
You make me feel so small.


I want you to leave, I never want you gone.
Miles apart , shivering , lost, forlorn.