Archives from my College Newsletter " Woof!" (September 2017)

Hi!

My name is Duggu. I am an Indian Pariah, I know all of you are fond of dogs but I am neither a poodle, nor a Beagle and certainly not a Labra so I am not really sure how might you like me, but I like you nonetheless. 

I am a tough doggo you see, I live on the streets, all by myself. It wasn’t always this way you know, I had a home once. When my mommy gave birth to me on the roadside a lovely boy called Tinku came and took me to his house, we used to have so much fun together but then one day I saw Tinku putting all his stuff into big brown boxes, I woofed and woofed because I wanted to play outside but Tinku wouldn't stop packing. I went towards Tinku and scratched his leg, he always rubbed my belly if I did that, I wanted a belly rub, I scratch him and I scratch him and I woof but Tinku wouldn't listen, he screams Go away Duggu! Tinku is crying. Why is Tinku crying? I hate it when Tinku cries. But I have an idea, I am a smart pupper you see, I run to the end of the room and bring Tinku my favorite green ball, Oh how I love chewing it. Tinku still won’t stop crying. All of a sudden Tinku lifts me up, I love it when he does that, I lick his face. I lick his nose, I lick and I lick. Tinku still won’t stop crying. Tinku’s mommy enters the room, she doesn’t like me much. Stop crying Tinku! You know we can’t take Duggu with us, we talked about it.

Tinku let go of me.

Well, it’s been one year since I am almost two now. 

I live near Tinku’s neighborhood, sometimes I go to our house, I woof and I woof and I bark and bark but Tinku doesn’t come out. I haven’t seen Tinku in so long. Where is Tinku? There is this old fat lady who throws sticks at me if I bark too much. I don’t like her. Maybe she knows something about Tinku? I woof at her, trying to ask her where did he go. She throws sticks at me again, she gets me this time, it hurts, it hurts so much, I howl and I run away.

I come back to my spot near the dumpster and sit down quietly. I sit like this for the rest of the day, I look at people passing by, they walk, they run sometimes they come in big cars. I am tired from all the running in the morning, I go to sleep. Honk! Honk! I wake up. It’s the sound of Tinku’s school bus, maybe he’s in there? I know he’s not. I wait every day, he never steps out. But maybe he’s in there today? I run behind the bus, I bark and I run and I bark and I run and I stop.

I am thirsty now, I want water. I know what to do! I go to Neetu’s house, Neetu’s house is three lanes away, I walk towards her house, it is so sunny today, I wish I could sit under a tree but I am thirsty so I walk. It’s so sunny, my thin fur cannot protect my body much. Its burning, I think my body is on fire, it hurts. I keep walking. I can see Neetu’s house now, Neetu always puts a big pot full of water outside for me. Sometimes she gives me bread too. Neetu is nice. I like Neetu. She sometimes pats my head as well, she calls me Sheru, but my name is Duggu. I woof at her, I tell her that my name is Duggu but she doesn’t seem to understand me.

I drink water from the pot, oh how good it feels. It’s still too hot, I have an idea, I jump into the pot. The water feels so good against my body. Nice! I wish I could stay here longer.

I hear some noises in the distance, my ears are alert. Oh no! It’s Bunty and his pack again. I don’t like them,they are so big. I am so small, they always snatch my food away and attack me. I step out of the water and run away before Bunty and his other dogs decide they want to trouble me again today. 

I go back the dumpster, it’s getting dark now, I can see people coming throwing garbage in the dumpster. Yay! Its food time. I jump into the dumpster, I sniff and I sniff. What will I find today?

I see a tube. What is this? I sniff it, it smells of mint, I lick and I lick, Wow my tongue is cold. I lick some more, I sniff some more. Bingo! I find chapatis in a paper, I eat it, it’s so hard but I chew and I chew. I feel better after eating.

I want to roam around a little, I start walking towards my favorite tree. It’s so big, I like it. There are some kids playing under the tree, this doesn’t look good, they are so big and so many. Okay maybe I can quietly walk past them and go ahead of the tree. I start walking quietly, I don’t want to make any noise. I don’t want them to know I am here, I am shuddering a little. I am almost through, but one of them spotted me, Oh no! One of them picks up a stone and throws it at me, I yelp and I run, now they all are throwing stones at me, another one hits me on the back, one hits my tail, the other hits my leg. It hurts. It hurts so much, I can’t run anymore, my leg hurts but they are chasing me, I run faster , I jump into the dry gutter nearby, they won’t find me here. Phew! I am safe now, I am sleepy now. 

There is an incredible pain in my stomach. I howl and I howl. It doesn’t go away, it hurts more. I can feel something in my throat, it’s cold and whatever it was, now it’s coming out of my mouth. I doze off again. 

Howling! I wake up in an instant. There is light everywhere, it’s morning, but why is there so much of howling? I can hear so many dogs howl. Something is wrong. I get out of the gutter, my ears alert. My leg hurts. I look left. I look right. I see nothing. What is happening? 

I see something coming at me, it’s a stick, it’s a big stick. I have never seen such a big stick. It has a collar attached to it. Something Tinku used to put around my neck. I am running away, the stick hits me on the back. Ow! I howl, it hurts, the collar is now around my neck, I am being dragged away, I try holding the road with my paws, I am still being dragged, I can’t breathe. The collar hurts. I am being pulled away. Wait. I can’t see anything clearly, there is a big net on me. I am not on the ground anymore, a huge man lifted me up in a net bag, the net is biting into my wounds in the back. It hurts, I yelp. I howl. I want to get out, I want to get out. I bark and I howl and I bark and I howl. I try to bite his hand but I can’t reach it, he keeps walking, I try to tear the net with my teeth, but it won’t tear. My jaw is now stuck in the net. I try to take it out but it won’t come out. I am trying, but it won’t come out. It won’t come out, it won’t come out. I don’t like this. My entire body hurts, and now I can’t move. The big man is approaching a big car, it is big. It is very big. Oh no! Bunty and his friends are inside the big car, they are also in nets, they are also crying out. The big man throws me into the car, I fall inside it. Ouch. It hurts so much, but Bunty! Oh no, please don’t leave me here with Bunty. I want to run, I want to run. The big man shuts the door. Bam! There is darkness everywhere, I can’t see anything. I am trying to run away but I can’t see anything, I hit a wall, and then another. It hurts. Everybody is howling, trying to run away, Bunty doesn’t try to attack me this time. Phew! But I am still trapped in the net. The car suddenly stops. The door opens and the big man appears, he pulls out Bunty, then Jack , then me and then the rest, He throws us on the ground. My head hits the ground. It hurts, I can’t see anything properly now, my eyes won’t stay open, there’s light but then it's dark. Light and dark. Light and dark.

I am being dragged again. I can’t move my body a lot now, I am trying but I can’t. 

The dragging stops. 

I hear a howl, it’s Bunty, I have never heard him Howl like this before, now he’s quiet. Why is Bunty quiet? I struggle to open my eyes, I see him. He’s sprawled in front of me. There is blood everywhere. Bunty’s neck is half-open. Oh no!

There is a tall man standing over him, he has a big sharp knife in his hand, Tinku’s mom used to make food with that knife, but this one is so much bigger. I try to run away but my body won’t move much, the tall man comes towards me. He cuts open the net. The net is open, I can run now. I try, but he holds me down with his big hand. I yelp and I howl.

Something sharp touches my neck, Ouch it hurts so bad. I have never felt so much pain. Ever.

My eyes are half-open, there was a little light, now it’s a little da…

Archives from my College Newsletter " The Big Pool". (August 2017)

When I was a kid, I used to go to this swimming class during summers. They had a huge pool. The pool had a deep end, a shallow end and a middle section that didn’t qualify to manage a name so it was just the center of the pool. The shallow end was the one where most of the crowd remained, loudly chatting, splashing each other, having all kinds of fun. Then there was the deep end where there were the real swimmers, They would have diving competitions among themselves, or they would check who could cover the length in the shortest period of time. They managed to have a little fun but mostly they would focus on how well they can swim. Then comes the middle section. This section consisted of the people who’d sometimes behave as the shallow end people and sometimes as the deep end people, usually they’d get away with the shallow end people because they were easy to mimic. The deep end people, on the other hand, were completely aware of the kind of tenacity that one must have to be on their side of the pool.

Since the majority were of the ones who were on the shallow and the middle side, the deep end people always felt left out. They used to wonder if they are the ones who are doing it wrong. Some of them thought that the whole learning proper swimming game is pointless because it’s not like they are likely to drown to death. So, most of them tried playing it the shallow end style for a while. When they entered the shallow zone, they realized that the competition in the shallow end lays a notch higher than the deep swimmers had anticipated, they had silly competitions like the shark in the water, noodle jousting, whirlpool, etc, all fun competitions but competitions nonetheless. 

In spite of being the real swimmers, the deep end swimmers were nothing but a bunch of children in a swimming pool and they did feel like conforming to the majority.

Towards the middle of the summer and the swimming classes as well, something started to change. The deep end swimmers who had been playing it the shallow end style realized that they were losing at the silly games. They realized that the people who had already been in the shallow end since the start were actually good at their games. The deep end swimmers then practiced more of their games, spent more time with them, learning their tricks, but some of them were so deep end hardwired that they could not bring themselves to do it. Their failure hit them so hard that they forgot what they were actually meant for, they forgot what they had within them. Some of them quit the lessons, some of them just came for the sake of finishing their lessons, but all the deep end swimmers who failed at shallow end swimming couldn’t help but give up on themselves. 

The middle section swimmers now had started picking sides, some realized that they wanted to challenge themselves to a level that they hadn’t touched before, some realized that the shallow end is where the show biz is at. During this time around, some of the shallow end swimmers felt that this isn’t something they really want to do. That maybe they are capable of doing something better, something which they could channel themselves towards and hence they switched to the deep end. The deep waters did get the better of them for a while, but the shallow end swimmers eventually got used to them.

Towards the end of our summer, everybody very strongly had chosen their side of the pool. The side-that they believed in.

Then came our tryouts, something that was bigger than the games we all played in the pool.

The tryouts were simple, you had to swim through in one go. No tricks, no tactics, just plain simple strokes.

The pool this time wasn’t our pool, not the pool we knew inside out. This pool was bigger and deeper than any pool we had ever been in and most importantly, it had no sections. We all had to start at the same level, no shallow end, no middle section, no deep end. It was all the same. When the tryouts happened, the ones who were used to the depth got through, the ones who weren’t, well...

You can still find them in one or the other swimming classes, this time practicing at the deep end.

                                                                                                                  -Pakhi Katiyar

Archives from my College Newsletter - " A Thin Line". (August 2017)

Here’s a dot. “.” 

A dot is nothing but a circle with a really tiny radius, if we connect several of these dots together, we will get what you call a thin line.

Funnily enough, this thin line is the only thing that separates a lot of things in our world and in our lives.

There’s a thin line between love and hate.

There’s a thin line between responsibilities and burdens.

There is also a thin line between pessimism and realism and if you are lucky enough, there’s one between realism and optimism.

Every decision that we make, every choice that we make, comes with consequences. 

The results could be good or bad, favorable or not so favorable.

Nevertheless, the outcome is certain and it is full of possibilities.

Optimism tells you that the outcome will be in your favor, and realism tells you that the outcome, in all its entirety, is already decided and no matter what you think, the circumstances will always get the better of you.

When we were little kids, we were usually positive and hopeful about everything. If you had a regular and normal childhood like me, all your demands must have been mostly met by your parents. When you live in a safe environment and rely on others to make decisions for you, you rarely see problems come your way. As we grow older and make decisions for ourselves, even the tiniest of them like what to order for dinner, we tend to contemplate our choices.

Let’s take the example of a mathematical number line, it starts from negative infinity and goes on still positive infinity. 

The optimists live between zero to positive infinity and the realists live between to negative infinity to positive infinity. Whenever a result arrives, based on how favorable it is, one can always place them on this number line. 

If it’s positive, the optimists find themselves in their comfort zone. If it’s not exactly the best result you could get, the realists find themselves in their comfort zone.

Here is the common thing though: both the realists and the optimists try to protect themselves from emotional damage. The optimists can’t bear the thought of anything going wrong while the realists can’t stand the thought of their hopes shattering. Both are right in their place and then again both are wrong: for the optimist never lands on the ground and the realist never dares to fly. 

As fanatical as it may sound, realists are simply depriving themselves of the miraculous joys of life, one never knows what the next moment has in store for them.

While the optimists, on the other hand, are always waiting for something extravagant and hence missing out on the simplicities of life.

Stress is a choice, but then so is peace.

                                                                                                                             -Pakhi Katiyar