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!
DEVAVRAT SATHE – 1st PRIZE
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.
AYUSH ADITYA PAL – 2nd PRIZE
FY BTech (Pharma)
It was a burning sensation.
It meant to be a new beginning,
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.