A Journey…..

Far behind the bay of horizons,
While delivering her high performance
Coincidently I got a conversation,
And further she invited me to share......
Her words were having sparkles of vivacity,
Streaks of anxiety, added with dash of reliability,
Her company was really ecstatic & made me blush,
Felt as if butterflies fluttering in my stomach
First with her having a little acquaintance,
Now with the passage of time I shared many,
And now she is really close to my heart,
Rarely I will find like her any.
But by faint oblivions of betrays & pain,
My soul was scared, to fall in this snare or refrain....
Everything was blurred & grey in dismay,
My emotions, seemed loosing their way.
I failed to convey what I want to say,
& Silence is what I have to obey.
Lost in this entangled & puzzled maze,
Its the anonymous mind which she wants to trace,
Its useless, still Hope lurking for space,
& her soul keeps giving me a pure solace.
Comprehending a placid state
Before eyes, words met
A time so fulfilling,
A feeling so overwhelming,
A promise so enchanting,
A band so everlasting.....
Don’t know if u feel anything.....or probably by attraction u r mortified,
But it is certain, something is there…if only sweet dreams to remember you by….for long with which we bide.

Lark Over Vast End

Lark Over Vast End

“Simple and stark, makes a person sweeter than the lark.”
Had the above mentioned lines been written by a great writer, other than the author, it would have been concise to describe Lara, the female lead of the story.
“Wild! But as wild as wild flower!!”
The above lines are more than enough to explain Art, the hero of the epic.
Art adored Lara as adoration is superior to LOVE but Lara just liked his presence. With this scenario, begins the story.
Father always has an upper hand over his progeny. Art’s father can be considered as one of the torch-bearers of the above facts. He never lost a single battle in his life. His punch line (as captured from the top of a mountain):
“Money! Money can buy anything, anybody, any place …”
“Money can’t buy LOVE”, said his wife. The conversation ended.
Early in the morning, Art and Lara went for jogging. Some of Art’s friends invited him to play football and her to be the spectator. Well in football, Art always took the back seat and hoped to continue doing so and spend more time with Lara. But! The luck vector always acted in the opposite direction of his position vector. He played like a real star and when the game ended Lara was already gone. All night, Art dreamt of her, as she clapped and cheered for him during the match. Suddenly! , His father woke him up saying, he was sweating while sleeping. “Let me son, why are you sad, what wearies you? What is there that money can’t buy?”. “Money can’t buy time father! ”. The conversation ended!
“Ring-Ring!”-The telephone rang and he knew it was of Lara’s. Thus, he got the abominable message that she would go to U.S.A. for a whole year and she wanted to meet him at 9:33 am. He reached there before time and found Lara to be in the same state as that of his. He asked the reason of departure and invited her to his home that very night.
As usual, she arrived before time. At that time no one except his mother was in the house. Briefly, they talked and his mother gave her the ring, as a sign of memento. It was the ring that she wanted to give to her son’s bride and may be some how Lara understood it. The next day was the departure day and the flight was at 9:30 am. Art and Lara went out at 9:00 am. The road was jammed due to hundreds of trucks crossing the road. Suddenly, the ring fell from Lara’s hand over the window and into the road. Lara cried out. At last Art found it and found it to be that very ring that his mother used to show him when he was a child. He returned it to her. His eyes brimming with tears and his heart cursing the jam as if, he wanted the departure soon! They reached the airport thirty minutes late and asked the time for the next flight. They came to know that it was at 9:30 pm. He was devastated but Lara was unexpectedly happy! He understood the cause and spent the whole time from morning till night with her. At last during the departure, Lara swore that she would return soon and thus they departed.
Well the story has not ended yet. “Ring -Ring!” Art’s mother said, ”Hello!” It was her husband. ”Well, Money has now bought TIME and will soon buy LOVE. I spent a small amount of money to create that jam!!” The conversation ended.


-------- Ankan De

The Sense of non-sense

The Sense of non-sense

There is a part of me that wants to write,

A part that wants to theorize, a part that

Wants to sculpt and a part that wants to

Teach … To force myself into a single

Role, to decide to be just one thing in life,

Would kill of larger parts of me.

My career will form behind me. All I can

Do is let this day come to me in peace. All

I can do is take the step before me now,

And not fear repeating an effort or making

A new one.

I say to people, "I always do so-and-so, " or

"I never do so-and-so, " as if being myself

Depended on such banal consistencies.

"Next time I will …"

"From now on I will … "

-What makes me think I am wiser today

than i will be tomorrow?

The more I consult my deeper feelings

throughout the day, the more i fall back into

that place of quiet knowing to see if what I

am doing is what I want to be doing, then

the less I fell at the end of day that i have

been wasting time. Perhaps the waste was

never in the activities themselves but in my

pulling forth too petty a justification for

doing them

As I look back upon my life, one of the most

constant and powerful things I have

experienced is the desire to be more than I

am at the moment - an unwillingness to let

my mind remain in the pettiness where it

idles - a desire to increase the boundaries of

myself - a desire to feel more, learn more,

express more - a desire to grow, improve,

purify, expand. I used to interpret this inner

push as meaning that there was some one

thing out there that I wanted to do or be or

have. And I have spent too much of my life

trying to find it. But now I know that this

energy within me is seeking more that the

mate or the profession or the religion, more

even the pleasure or power or -meaning. It is

seeking more of me; or better, it is, thank

God, releasing more of me.

Perfectionism is slow death. Idols and ideals

are based on the past. If everything were to

turn out just as I would want it to, just as I

would plan, I would never experience anything

new. My life would be an endless repetition

of stale successes. When I make a mistake I

experienced something unexpected.

I sometimes react to mistakes as if I have

betrayed myself. My fear of them seems to

arise from the assumption that I am

potentially perfect and that if I can just be

very careful i will not fall from heaven. But

a mistake is a declaration of the way I am

now, a jolt to the expectations I have

unconsciously set, a reminder I am not

dealing with the facts. When I have

listened to my mistakes I have grown.

Guilt is a guide that will lead me whenever I

choose to follow. It will raise its righteous

banner and take me to the wasteland of my

incompetence. Guilt is a voice that will

speak whenever I choose to listen. It will

mournfully address any subject but one;

correcting the mistake.

The key to motivation is to look at how

far I have come rather than how far I have

to go.

-swarochish chekuri

05IE1004

If god is watching us the least we can do is to be entertaining.

The Sum of Life : Pi

There was once this little girl who wished she could buy all the stars in the dark blue sky. It was a belief really. A desire to accomplish something, which usually propels the minds of men to churn out their best creativity and latent talents.

She learned to walk. Walk on the grand road of life. A trifle bruise and a petty cut here and there, and up again she was. She gradually grew up into a beautiful warrior princess, pure at heart and soul, searching for her treasures. She joined the mecca of learning, where she hoped she could build ladders and bridges to the thing which her heart desired. This is where this small story starts.

Pi, was her name. She made new friends at the mecca, or so it seemed. Pi was good at dancing and sports. She was also a talented disciple. And to top it all she was as beautiful as an early morning rose. Naturally, a lot of people started noticing her: teachers, students and everyone at the Mecca. Some were so impressed, they became her fans. Silent observers of the events in which their role model was the central character. Even a small smile of hers onto one of these fans, would fill their timid hearts with joy. Well wishers, I believe. A small section, I suppose.

Others, for some reason had a different opinion. They felt her to be extremely annoying. They had conveniently categorized her as a vixen. How rude. She was helpless. The consequences of envy are hard to sustain. Less people started talking to her. They started overlooking and avoiding her. Her presence was always felt, albeit with wrong vibes. She had comitted a sin. By aspiring to things and achieveing them partially. By being beautiful she had won the enemities of her own sistern.

An achievement. A glory. It changes life for ever. She knew that. She sensed not many people were acting normal towards her. It was not good. She vowed not to succumb to this malady. She would wear a bright smile at all times and cut ice as much as possible.

Attempts. Vain. Futile. And as each day passed, Pi was getting dejected more than ever. Until now, she was able to put up a smile in front of the ‘people’ even though she knew of their ‘indifference’. But slowly, the courage and the resolve were withering. And it was visible. Her usually bright face had become as dull as a fading primrose.

What had happened? A second contemplation reveals that the people of Mecca were not happy with Pi’s success. This unhappiness ultimately took a toll on Pi. A huge one. Her soul lost its vigor. Mecca had destroyed her from the within. She was empty now. Void. Waiting for the time when she’ll run away from the Mecca, as a free bird and resume her journey.

Pi’s life at the Mecca is something worth thinking about. It’s not so much of a drama. The story is bleak. But the message it carries is a rather disconcerting one. Each individual’s potential gets clipped and personality moulded in the hands of the group she or he is in. And the only reason which causes this is the group’s resentment towards something extraordinary that it by itself could never conjure up. In other words, a person’s growth and aspirations are always incongruent with that of the group, not so much because the group doesn’t aim high or is a bad one. Its because of the envy and fear and false pride that’s born at the same time when a group is formed.

Lets leave philosophy. The author (Theja T) knows, he needs to put his ideas more clearly for a more meaningful reading. The author informs that Pi is still in the Mecca now. She’s working hard, so much like herself. Shes trying to smile. And the author wants to add one more thing : he too is in her fan club.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

DISCLAIMER: Views expressed in this post are......etc etc.......

PS: ppl contributing articles please do mention your name and roll no. as well. Thanks in advance :)

Why we should Avoid IIT Girls?

Before I begin this super-sensitive discourse revealing mind-boggling facts, I want to make it clear who the “We” in the title refers to. “We” are the super-genius, super-handsome, charishmatic young IIT boys (There is no doubt about this, mind you). So what makes me write this epoch-making historic prose? The answer is that I have seen many of these super-genius geeks going gaga over the (supposed) ‘angels’ of their institutes. And in the end, it is of these innocent creatures, the hearts get broken and the tears well up. Its sad, its unbelieveable; but it’s true. True till the last word.

So what exactly is the problem? We have suitable super-sharp lads on one side, and (ok! accepted) intelligent ‘angels’ on the other. So where is this disharmony? Blame it on sex-ratios. After all its only in weird environments and habitats that you see a 100:5 sex ratio. Poor boys have to compete against their fellow comrades to win the hearts of these ‘angels’. And poor ‘angels’, it isn’t their fault that the sex ratio is so ugly looking. They have made it to the IITs. Their sisters haven’t. Step out of blame-game. We have twenty or so boys trying to woo one little lucky ‘angel’. Its like, she has the luxury of playing with the hearts of twenty valiant, handsome (by heart too!) young guns. And play she will (pampered femme). Atleast that’s how it appears to the nineteen young guns who got shot in the heart (not literally!). Don’t you dare to think that the young gun who got ‘picked’ is lucky. He, unfortunately is super-unlucky. His cumulative grade point average (CGPA) swings like the heart-beat of a 120 year old hag, just writhing to stay alive. His wallet gets dried up. Not to mention, the wallets of his neighbours in his hostel. His life gets messed up to the hilt. And What about the ‘angel’ who brought the tempest to this super-unlucky young gun’s life? Well, she has her survival kits ready (Oh gosh!). She can get super-cool notes from the sharpest dorks( no offence intended to the menfolk) and get taught the entire syllabi within hours by the other sharper dorks. She floats. He sinks.

Ok. Not all ‘angels’ can be generalised like this. After all the are also humans. And God doesn’t create mean girls with super-aptitudes just so that, they clear JEE and create havoc in the lives of super-innocent peace-loving romantic young lads of IITs. For the faint hearted who’s eyes have welled up with gallons of tears, take a break. Because you haven’t yet read the uglier parts which follow. And come back with strong hearts. Oh my! I never wanted to make my audience cry.

And the dumb-witted who think romances and tragedies are the only things that happen in IITs, wake up. These super-charishmatic young lads are at the forefronts of cutting edge research, technology, management and sports. I am just emphasising on the relavent (to the topic) component. For, the remaining super-calm like me, apologies for the digression. Where were we? Lives of innocent lads getting butchered by the ‘angels’ (again not literally). Yes. What would you do when the sweet little femme-fatale you wooed for months and won over yesterday, is spotted with another (damn lucky) guy today, right in front of you and your all-boys-merry-gang? Bells ringing to the tune of “So yesterday! So yesterday!! (music freaks could relate it to the album by Hilary Duff, with the lead positions exchanged, of course!)” strangle the litle bit of peace your mind had. Why did she have to do that? Why? Why? And this is no match for the numerous “psi’s (hindi:pehchaanne se inkaars meaning: refusing to acknowledge the presence of a colse friend in a public place)” these lads get from their ‘angel’ “friends” almost all the time. All in all, it’s only this vicious cycle of heart breaking and mending, which plagues the spectacular college lives of super-intelligent heros of IIT. And you know what, boys cry. Yes, they do, and in the loneliness of their rooms, they try in vain to forget this nightmare. And it’s a pity, some of the gallant young men take to drinking and smoking. You can’t blame them really. They drink to forget and forget the ‘pompous-disasterous-affairs’ they will. For they are brave young guns of IIT. They have realised that each of these ‘angels’ are nothing but a sweet-poison. Sometimes an elixir clicks ( not all are poisonous, after all) and once-in-a-while a happy couple unites and romances to the tune of the spring time nightingales. How sweet! Boy, they do become the talk of the town. But, where there is ‘Merry’, ‘Envy’ follows. That is, for some, this paves way for discontent, lust, lies, short-lived-affair-tries and a completely messed-up life and living (I swear, its true). So, boys (and ‘elixirs’) of IIT! Be prudent and stop expecting. ‘Cause college life is too short for miracles to happen and for the ‘pimpernels’ (its still a sobriquet for boys) who don’t expect, life is but an enthralling little drama, full of surprises and love and warmth.

What will happen to the pampered ‘angels’? To the rare part of the ‘homo sapiens’ after IIT ? Someone tell them life is not as biased as this outside their IIT. Boys will be boys. They will grow up. And that too the golden futures of super-genius, super-handsome, charishmatic young IIT boys will not get dented by these horrifying experiences of their college life. They will shine and have happy married lives. And as for the ‘meaner girls’ of IITs, well, once they will realise the harsh realities of the outside world where the sex ratio is 50:50, they will struggle to cope with competition. This is similar to the ‘frog in the well’ story. I think I needn’t explain further. And they will feel insecure. And that will affect their marriages ( don’t ask why the author is fetish with the word marriage). And its for our dear God to save these (eventually poor) souls. Amen.

(Once the author (Theja T) completely analyses the consequences of (unwarranted) claims made by this piece of text and gets feedback from his peers, he will revise it again, hopefully, for the better. )

DISCLAIMER: The views expressed in this blog are of the author and not necessarily of the 'Power' magazine. :D

A solitary reaper

Sleepless nights
Dreamless eyes
Sobs unheard
A spirit cries,
My being is ached, my soul is wretched;
Pierced all through with a burning sword;
Am lost in the dark maze;
My shadow even, betrayed….
A numb soul,
That fears the crowd,
Serene , the face
Screaming aloud
Countless depressions, endless deprivations
Eyes keep shading, unable I am to cease them,
No hands to wipe my fear, no body to succour,
Roof over the head has blown,so has my shelter,my den…..
Despair,desperate
Hope struggling for space
Life comes to a halt
Belief leaves no trace…
How to escape the loads of guilt,
How to trigger the revival of pain,
How do I stand for myself,
How to honour my being again???
Countless questions still unanswered,
Countless pictures ,still blurred;
But my solitary gives me pure solace
And I keep walking this oblivion’s maze;
Waiting forever for those halcyon days;
Waiting…. And reaping these solitary ways..
Just me,
me and my solitary!!
---C V Rohan

Placement Statistics 2007 (B Tech)

Roll Number	Name	Date of Placement	Company
04EE1001	Deepak Meena	8th January	TMIL
04EE1002	Vijay Khatwa
04EE1003	Lalit Kumar Naik	10th December	NTPC
04EE1004	Hemanta Pramanick	13th December	Tata Motors
04EE1005	Chhandak Barman	3rd December	P&G
04EE1006	Sandipan Saha	10th December	NTPC
04EE1007	Aditya Narayan	11th December	Tata Steel
04EE1008	Kumar Anubhav	9th December	Rio Tinto
04EE1009	Pranav Prakash	8th December	Oracle
04EE1010	Hansraj Mishra	4th December	Inductis
04EE1011	Manmeet Singh Hora	8th December	Oracle
04EE1012	Vaibhav Gupta	5th December	Maxim IC
04EE1013	Nagaraju Vemuri	10th December	NTPC
04EE1014	Nitesh Kumar	6th December	Pangea3
04EE1016	Syed Ahsan Mohammad	27th December	Mu Sigma
04EE1017	Kadiyala Saipraveen	10th December	Tata Steel
04EE1018	Suma Devi	3rd December	Lehman Brothers
04EE1019	Sridhar Bollam	8th December	Adventity
04EE1020	Kolli Praveen Chand	4th December	CISCO
04EE1021	Shaga Ravi Krishna	7th December	Deloitte
04EE1022	Ashish Kumar	15th December	ONGC
04EE1023	Sandesh V Borgaonkar	6th December	Pangea3
04EE1024	P Rohit	10th December	Tata Steel
04EE1025	Marathe Aditya Ravindra	4th December	ZS Associates
04EE1026	Ravi Prakash Balwada
04EE1027	Y Arun Kumar Reddy	PPO	ITC
04EE1028	Deepak Kumar Dubey	9th December	Transwitch
04EE1029	P S Siddharth	10th December	Future First
04EE1030	Sanjay Nama	6th December	Pangea3
04EE1031	Amrita Priya	3rd December	Deutsche Bank
04EE1032	Akhil Kumar	7th December	I Runway
04EE1033	Debjit Biswas	7th December	I Runway
04EE1034	Ashutosh Nandan Bagaria	6th December	Barclays Capital
04EE1035	Vamsi Kalyan Putta	Not Interested	-