Authored By: Shail Raghuvanshi

A drought here, a cyclone there,

earthquakes scattered elsewhere -

all Mother Nature’s indignation in action,

the ozone hole a danger signal for us hapless souls

yet, we live our lives unaffected

stretching our mounds of habitation

till they burst at the seams.

The West turns towards the East

(it’s fashionable you know for foreign hands

to dip their fingers in spice and curry!)

the East surges blindly towards the West

(it’s chic you know to fly in fleets of fashion and software!)

why do cultures look everywhere else except within themselves?

destruction for gain that’s all we humans seem capable of.

A pity really

to perceive pure and perfect creation getting usurped

by unchurned concepts and unashamed sale of souls.

Authored by Saurabh Ganguly:

I was a child, when I first cried for food; 
crawled to dustbins, the best I could.
I was beaten as I desired to be in school; 
for society, I remain an uneducated fool.

I collected polythene bags from garbage, 
with a smile in face, with many folks at my age.
I don’t know whom to say, whom to blame, 
when I sold toys, when my age was to play with them.

From garage to tea stall in your neighbour, 
See how we child change with labour.
Ever thirsty lips can just taste the sweat, 
I am the poor child and that’s my fate.

Why this uncouth life has chosen me, 
I beg for love, I beg for food but I am still hungry.
No one likes me nobody comes near; 
I am the God’s neglected child with eyes full of tear.

I will soon be social evil as a grown up child, 
negligence and hunger has made me wild.
Life without fun and nursery rhyme, 
Soon, I will grow with the taste of Crime.

Authored By Anitha Rajesh:

Darkness and dullness creeping and sprawling in,

With dearth of Sun and shine, that vanishes to beam afresh

Fear and frantic, chaos and clutter, spreads this dusk

Panic and stress, distress and dumps sweeps and swells

Dragons and serpents out from the hide, stroll and prowl

Vampires and leech hustle in relish, sucking and sapping,

Reign and triumph as sages and scientists dazing ‘n sleeping

And, snuggling as bugs in a rug and straying in their dreams

Dreams that splashes the hues and vibes of bash and spree

Fun and frolic   running so high, that filling and spilling

Through malls and marts, with bottle and blonde

Merry and cheer, tide is so high that sweeps the whims

Facts are not fancy that stares so fierce and pierce in deep

Raise many questions ‘n sought many answers that kill the sleep

Dreams or slumber pester with nothing, but minister ease

Pricks and pokes on qualms and ethics, yield no comfort

Welcomed or not, sought or not, bright and light won’t wait

Sun ‘ll rise and dawn ‘ll reach all nooks, corner, creeks ‘n cracks

Light and lore shines so bright and beyond the clout ‘n control

Will shake the Brain ‘n wake them up from the castle in air

Once they leave the slumber and wakes to vigil and guard,

Wisdom will blossom and brilliance will blaze and shield the nation

Darkness will cede and clutter will concede, ‘n evil will hide again

Hopes will breeze and peace will prevail with His grace ‘n bless !!!

Authored By Abhishek Mishra:

With the chains my wings are bound

Far above,above the grounds.

I am tortured by the noisy sounds

From next door these barking hounds

Play the music, play the music

Each night I feel so sick

To listen to these blaring songs

Which speak no good but lots of wrong

But in the cobwebs of city life

I choose to live not the knife

For I have kids, and a lovely wife

For whom my mind and hands strive

All i have is a hand to work

And a busy brain with no spark

All is a monotonous routine

And no fun is in the scene

When i travel the whole world

And sit at home feeling knarled

Perhaps it is my daughter’s kiss

That fills the space of all i miss

Of all the moments a dad has lost

All at a men’s cost

And under a layer of dust

Lies buried a husband’s love and lust

Does the world ever think of us

Think of a men’s loss

And of its unspoken cause

That so simply women’s tears does

Sometimes i move to places

Where each word ceases

And there i shout with all my will

Perhaps that is how my wounded heart chills

And this is my latest wound

From next door these party sounds

And a crazy father thinks looking at ground

Would my kids be like the next door hounds

“Hey you twerp, get up” says Eric Smith

“S-sorry sir” stammers Greg Bisshoff

Greg is Eric’s servant. Greg is a 12 year old boy who is slim, has long hair and is a poor child who is picked up from the street by Eric. Eric is a 25 year old man; medium sized and is an upper class man. He picked Greg from the street where he used to beg for money. He offered Greg $25 per month if he worked at Eric’s house and Greg happily agreed.

“Why the hell are you still sleeping?” asks Eric angrily

“I am very sorry sir, I will never repeat this mistake” says Greg

It is 10:25 am and Greg had still been sleeping. After getting up, he made coffee for Eric and started sweeping and mopping the house.

Authored by  Subramanian KS :

More than a thousand unknown faces passed through the sidewalk that night - faces that meant nothing to him. He didn't look up once to see who these strangers were. Nobody paid any special attention to him either. Those who did care to glance down at his nimble figure dismissed him as merely a boy, a shabbily dressed street urchin gyrating at the edge of the busy promenade trying to earn his daily bread, on a humid Sunday evening. Others, who stared at him a while longer, noticed that he was about 4 feet tall, wore ill-fitting, dull, grey pants which covered the length of his lower body. He also wore a washed-out, petal-covered shirt which shone brightly beneath the evening streetlights.

Authored By: Adisha WS

First there were letters and phone calls. Few and far between. Cherished paper and expensive minutes spent exchanging the special updates or describing every detail of their days apart or the pain of being away from each other. Taking the trouble to pen down words or spending money to get in touch was considered a loving act within itself. Then came the emails - frequent and instant, with news of each day or hour even. People would sit excitedly to log into their account to see if they had any new mails to check. Forwards and chain mails became a way to bring a smile to someone across the world. Occasions brought e-cards instead of greeting cards in the mail. This was followed by the internet messenger services.

Authored By Adisha WS:

So Valentine’s day is here! I know what some of you will be thinking. It’s a media hyped, business driven holiday that is not really relevant. In an ideal scenario, the world would not be driven by media and business. In an ideal world every day would also be a celebration of love. So why not celebrate today? Just one day in the 365 dedicated to the one emotion that keeps us all going. Whether we shout it from the roof tops or not, we all desire to be pampered. What better day than this when love is in the air and Cupid is poised, ready to strike should someone make the effort to profess their love. This day is ideal in terms of ambience to tell someone you care for that they mean everything to you and they make life worth living. For in the struggles of every day life one does not often have the time to express their love and gratitude. And let’s face it - Girls ( and admit it, even guys!!  )

Authored By Adisha WS:

I recently came across a magazine with the cover of Octomom in a bikini. For those of you who may be unaware, Octomom is the media title given to mother of 8 - Nadya Suleiman. She had an IVF treatment to give birth to 8 children. Media speculation is that it was a publicity stunt done in order to get her 15 minutes of fame. Though public reaction turned negative when it was revealed that she was already mother to 6 and had no means of supporting them. Other sources, ie 'a close friend' stated that she had the children with the mysterious love of her life so that her connection with him deepens. Nadia Suleiman recently won the court case denying a call for an independent guardian to monitor her children's finances. This seems wrong on so many levels and a series of questions come to mind. How does a person with no job decide to mother 14 children?