Yesterday’s Road & New Struggles

This poem is written by Clarissa D’Lima (BA. LLB. Class of 2021)

New corridors, new sights

Familiar voices, new intensities.

New struggles to maintain old reprises.

 

Planned set ups, planned latitudes

Familiar routines, planned false doctrines

Planned ploys to overcoming unplanned vicissitudes.

 

Expected challenges, expected endeavours

Familiar encounters, expected strains

Expected jerks, aided by unexpected manoeuvres.

 

Spirited moderates, spirited rebels

Familiar enthusiasm, spirited convictions

Spirited resolves to let die unspirited quibbles.

 

Yesterday’s actuality, yesterday’s talk

Familiar taglines, yesterday’s story

Yesterday’s road bending into a new found path to walk.

 

 

 

Two Opposing Thoughts

This poem is written by Clarissa D’Lima (BA. LLB. Class of 2021)

 

Two opposing thoughts, four directions in both, each springing from a unique entity

Weaned by different conjectures, moulded and scarred by circumstantial disparity.

Treading and rolling ahead to bring out distinct identity.

Directed towards veiled common pursuits, yet threatened in each other’s vicinity.

 

In the once serene garden of thoughts, now opinions are lost amid noise.

Controversies, confrontations mixed in cacophonic confusion have stripped words of their poise.

Fear and havoc, as tools to choke the informed voice.

Motives of power have made citizenry freedom its toys.

 

The solemn responsibility of human welfare taken as a shield against tolerance.

How can welfare be achieved without forbearance?

The fear of division as the as justification for schemed menace.

How enduring is unity is despondence?

 

Are our common fooleries greater than the individual sensibilities we like to flaunt?

Is there a nationalist so great who desires flourishing ideas to turn gaunt?

Why we fuel rages that serve no want?

Why obstruct the peace of discussion with the poor instruments of violence and taunts?

Prakrti ki Sundarta

This poem is written by Clarissa D’Lima (BA. LLB. Class of 2021)

Prakrti ki Sundarta shehron ka yeh dua chupa na paya,

Uski srishti yeh mela sa sagar ghol na paya.

Ki bas aanken khol kar dekho tho janoge,

Thodi dhayan dho tho yeh bat maoge.

 

Dekhna kabi sunhere  subha ki Kirano mein

Emaraton aur jhopdiyon ke beech guzarte unn raston pe.

Dehte hai  tar jiske  upar

Choti choti chidiyan terkte hai unpar.

Ki manav ka banaya yeh khatre unhe rok nahi pata.

Ki kisi anjan sambhavna ka dar unke chechane Ko tok nahi pata

 

Kabi dekhna samundar ke neele kuch kali lehron mein,

Ki saf hone ki shanka shyad hogi

Lekin unke behte awaz ki rag phir bhi man mein shanti bhardege.

 

Kabi dekhna unn chehron Ko bhi gaur se

Jinpe  hai nahi koi lep, sane hai jo pasene se.

Ki prakrti unhe bhuli nahi,

Bas hamari soch unke man ki tazgi ko samjthi nahi.

 

Ki hamare rozi daud mein hum khote jate hai,

Inn sundar nazaron Ko pehchan na pate hai.

Ki kahi uski  sajae achaiyon Ko andekha karte hai.

Uski sundarta ko hum kuch iss tarah bhulte jate hai.

Airbus on Tracks

poem-3

This poem is written by Clarissa D’Lima (BA. LLB. Class of 2021)

 

Lost in sleep I know not where I drift,

Amid noise I find the silence lull and sweet.

How privileged to get these moments deep,

That makes me feel like I am riding on an airbus running on tracks, taking its leap.

 

The last night was cold and long,

Not physical, but mentally I won’t be wrong.

The same obsession with submissions,

The same eyes that craved to sleep.

But deadlines forced them to stay

To absorb the screen light and the darkness obey.

 

So, the next morning the train journey was used,

To let the eyes have their share.

To shut close in the new morning bright.

And lose themselves in slumber as on flight.

The sounds unwanted was lost in the daze.

I know not on what I ride, an engine or the cloud light.

 

Comfort came not from the pleasure of knowing the price tag.

It came in disguise and relieved my lag.

Sound sleep did not need a fluffy pillow.

It came just when the eyes shut to the mellow.

Nothing Doiing!

aithal

This poem is written by Akshay Nandakumar (BBA. LL.B. Class of 2020)

Tribute to Shrikant Aithal.

In a candid talk with Srikant Sir in his cabin on the last working day for the year it came to my knowledge that Mr Shrikant would be completing his Golden Jubilee on the 30th of December. It was this moment when I decided to dedicate a poem for Shrikant Sir. Writing about such a larger than life persona I came across certain creative difficulties. I solicited help from my eccentric cum creative cum like-minded friend Devarsh Shah who went on the write the prelude to my poem. This poem is a tribute to Shrikant Aithal which more or less sums up his personality, his achievements as a teacher and a mentor.  Happy 50th Birthday Shrikant Aithal.

He walked in and our minds were never the same
He walked in with  knowledge on case laws that put Manupatra to shame
You might mistake him for Google, but Srikant Aithal is his name

Right from law to policy to particle physics to information that leave you stunned
Our Shriku knows everything and anything under the sun

I’d wouldn’t do him justice by saying he’s skilled
For his wit is unmatched and his knowledge unparalleled

When others admonish us we may shun them with disrespect
But when we receive them from Mr. Aithal, we judiciously listen and gracefully accept

We consider ourselves extremely blessed and fortunate
To have witnessed and experienced his intellect

On our lives, a lot of people in our lives have had an effect
But Mr. Srikant Aithal is out of all the chosen few, who no matter what we pursue

We would always unabashedly genuflect

To the person who makes interesting a subject that seems dull
To the person that impossibly transplants information into our thick skull
To the person who seems unrealistically infallible
Here’s to the one and only, Srikant Aithal!