The English Literary events at Freshers 2014 were impeccably coordinated by 2 of our able Junior Editors – Eeshani Godbole and Vidushi Shukla. Debate, quiz, ‘Litracer’ (read: Word games!) and of course what the Spirit does best – WRITING were the events conducted. Wordastrophe was the creative writing event this year and we are proud to present the winning entries to you all! The participation was commendable and the coordinators had to take a tough decision to eliminate people and declare the FOLLOWING THREE as the winners! Here’s encouraging the first years’ to c0ntinue pursuing their interests in writing by contributing to the Spirit! Congratulations to all the winners!


FY BTech (Polymers)

“What scares this sheep?”

As paranoia, surely seeped through

The hand that guided, not the slightest true

As fingers of dark, clenched a fist

And the agony of foreboding, hung in a mist

The herd knew not, what the wicked morn

Would bring for man, so forlorn

As I feared loss, of priceless wealth

It took hold, with definite stealth

A fear of the faceless sea

Loss of the precious ‘me’

And so, shell of a man, sans my sheen

I was soon,

An unknown part of the great machine

Fear of the ocean, was what sunk my ship

Turned coward by the stinging whip

The soul cried, as my self was no more

False shell on a hollow core

So dear reader, take note,

Lest it goes to waste, what I wrote

Grab your life by the horns

Before the flame is dead, fire gone

Leave the herd and carve a path

Take control, and find your worth

For doomed are those, alive for conformity

Only the brave remembered, for all of eternity.


FY BTech (Pharma)

Away from home in a stormy night,
This measly young boy set his sight.
To do big things,
To leave a mark
His life was at its crossroads,
He aspired big,
So much to look forward to,
As he stepped into the din.
Hostel life was problems galore,
He missed his loved ones even more,
Too depressed to go on,
He felt happiness was no more.
Looking out the window,
Expecting a starry sky,
All he saw was despair,
Was it worth the try?
His family his world,
his very foundation,
Sent miles away from them,
It was a burning sensation.
Reminiscing his good old days,
tears rolled down his eyes,
It meant to be a new beginning,
yet everything seemed so dry.
He tried to cope up,
but all in vain,
He grew sick of it,
The grief turned into pain.
One dreadful morning,
he got a call,
He glowed with joy,
there was no more scorn.
His dad had comes from miles away.
To wipe his tears, emotions in fray.
He let him know how proud he felt,
He loved his son, his heart melt.
Carpe diem, son
Is what he said,
He felt rejuvenated,
Nothing to be afraid.
Life is short,
you live it son,
Don’t show regret,
Break free and run.
This world is vast,
many things to do.
People come and go,
But there’s just one of you.
These words now, engraved in his mind,
He let all fear go and gave a smile,
He now knew that he could face the world,
Nothing to lose, be a flower unfurled.


FY BTech (Surface Coatings)
“And kids, that’s how I found the most important thing in my life”
I was a little boy of 7, blissfully unaware of the complications in life. Life, to me, was always simple. There was no two ways to that truth. If I liked something, the world knew it. Much was the case with this one spherical object that came to be in my possession on my 7th birthday. The object was so pure, untainted, shiny too. Its beauty lay in its dynamic difference. Black surrounded by white? White by black? Nobody I asked knew or cared. I knew some who played with that sphere as if their life depended on it. I was the innocent boy who wondered how an object of such simplicity could inspire such emotion in people.
I grew up clutching the ball very close to my life. Now you may wonder why I chose to do that. It was because I heard a magical melody echoing from every fiber that kept the pieces in place. I heard a voice, a voice of such intensity that the silence hurt my ears. In that ball, I heard my own heartbeat. And I knew at once, that I belonged with it, and it with me.
I had never known love at all, yet magically I knew I would never feel love like this again in my life. No offense to your mother, but even she knows her place in my heart. It was always second. Second was a compliment to her, because nothing could overtake my love for that gift I got when I was 7.
Every time I touched it, I felt a pulse through my being, resonating in every cell. It was pure bliss, playing, passing, running, falling, every bit. The lobbed pass, the short through, the one-two, off-the-game, offside, last man, brick wall, between the sticks, off the post and a bulging net. These were terms that would over the course of my life, become the sweetest form of non-melodic music I would hear.
Today, I stand before you, not as a fan, not as a player, not as a slave, but as a friend of football. I’ve known him 37 years, yet he comes over everyday. He never tires. He never complains. He’s stuck with me through everything. He was my companion when my prom date kissed another guy during prom, he was with me when I fell off the bike and was hospitalized for 6 months.
This is why he is beyond a ball to me. He is my friend. The best friend I have ever had.
That is football to me. Not a sport, but a way of life. It was just another gift wrapped with shiny paper, but it’s the only gift whose smell I remember. It was the only gift I ever wanted, and I got it when I was 7, and I never let it go.
And kids, that’s how I found the most important thing in my life.

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