mihir

Lights. The rays fell on the tall Douglas fir trees, summer that it was; their transparency complimenting the bright green of the leaves to reflect back a bright orange. An orange that I saw every morning, when I looked out of my window, peeking occasionally as I went about the ritual of getting ready for work. Do not turn the hands of the clock, but picture it with a 'PM' instead of the much despised 'AM'. Twelve hours later, every evening, after a scheduled day in the office, I sat on a brown couch, on the fourteenth floor, with a book to tinker my creativity. I looked up, almost periodically, to allow my mind some breathing space, and I faced the window. The rays were still there, summer that it was; their colors showing through the clouds, a palette that would start with light blue, visit a dark purple before finally deciding to take the color of the night, black, at 10PM. Lights. I had been here before, in Vancouver, not long ago. It was for four months, for

morphed into the unknown each day, everyday; a voice echoes, 'my' voice with the hassles of the past day, the past life; i want to shut my eyes, to keep out the voice that's what i did psychological mutations each incident, every incident; a shadow formed, 'my' shadow of weaknesses that were once perfect imperfections i want to close my mind, to keep out the light that's what i did vagueness  about it all; a flux appears, flux of people challenging 'my' insecurities, the ones i wasn't aware of i want to run away, to get to me that's what i did Remodelling in bits and pieces; a thought is born, My thought edifying me, to be what i can be i want to open my eyes, through my mind, to stay with me and that's what i do, now; Imagination has a new forest!

A magazine, in it's complete form. This magazine was made as part of a competition organised by the student publication body of IIT Delhi. This magazine is a tribute to the 'Humans' off/ of IIT. It makes an attempt to capture their stories and acknowledge their existence. They are conducive to our growth, more than we believe. We would like to extend our gratitude to each and every one who's looked 'upon' as part of the 'Blue' Collar job. From now on, we're going to give a genuine shot at being Humane, we hope you can too. Contributors: Deepesh Nathani | Harilal Krishna | Mihir Jain

Eradication. Google defines 'eradication' as the 'complete destruction of something ; elimination, removal, suppression'. That's a biased definition already. Why 'something'? Feelings. Emotions. Thoughts. Memories. These are what make up a human, and what I was made of too, not anymore though . These are not things, but they can be destroyed too, ask me! I am eradicated, and I have nowhere to go, to hide. I am not a victim of a tragic love affair, nor had I ever been involved in one- well, that's something that can be called tragic. I need to get over this, I need someone..something? It could barely be called romantic, the first time we met. I was walking down the road, with a friend of mine, when we spotted our colleague some distance away. There was an unfamiliar 'figure' with her. We walked towards her. Close enough, our eyes met, and I coughed. It's a pity I don't remember the severity of the conversation that followed, for the

You see him With an apron, cap and a bold face Monotonously repeating; Four meals a day, that's what we get Cleanliness, hygiene and affection, is what he provides Do you 'notice' him? Why does he rise? He washes  our  late night drama,  before our stomachs begin the morning ritual of 'Oh Mamma' He sweeps away  our  corridors full of litter, can we really be this bitter? He washes, he sweeps Everyday, every damn day! Why does he rise? He sits in  our  fort all day long, to guard us from trespassers high on Old Monk He sits, he sits Every day, every damn day! You see him With his four seater Every day; Breaking our inertia, is what we calculate Performance is what he delivers Did you 'derive' that? Why do they rise? They are part of  our  lives; without them we would be on the edge of a knife They parcel convenience to  our  door, some would say they are our very own 'Hodor' They parcel parts