Paucity of Purity

To live life we need water,
Air and water is what matter
And the world has many a river.
God has given us sea and ocean
But I wonder what was done by men?
What are we doing now and then
That we can’t drink natural water,
But have to pay for every litre.
Did we do a lot of litter?
Did we make and mix poison,
Adultrating the manna with reason,
Adding to life a undrinkable tension?
Now we need little machines to clean
To bring back water’s shine and sheen
To drink water we do pay for our sin.
Our river, lake, ocean and sea
Are no more what they should be,
But detoriated in deplorable degree
That we need to purify the blessing,
And make it back a heavenly thing
And remove Satan’s abuse and adding
Are we the Satan trying the blessing to burn?
Oh dear that is quite a twist and turn!
And there is so much to learn.
It is said we were made in God’s image,
But our greed gained us Satan’s bondage;
We have done and doing damage
Today the water and tomorrow the air,
And we have made many a super computer
And also many a super rich billionaire.
But our garbage is our hydra
Growing heads and the monster’s aura,
Opening up for us the box of pandora.
We consume and we generate
Garbage at an astronomical rate,
And thus we destroy and desecrate.
Now we need little machines at home
To give clean water and air from the biome,
To show us the way out of the catacomb.
We are caged in the age of consumption;
With our gadgets we have built a relation;
But in the process forgotten collaboration-
That gives us water out of the river
And oxygen out of air,
That makes us who we are-
Adam and Eve of Eden
And not the ragpicker of the garbage den
And not the profit making businessmen;
For what’s the profit in suffocating
For what’s the profit in tinkering
If we can’t make life better than what it is being?

– Mr. Saptarshi Majumder

The Tale

Once upon a time there was a knight.
One day he found him in a fight,
He was not weak but had might
But still the spot was rather tight
For his enemies were not fair and did bite.
Well our hero was not short but had height
And over and above the heads saw a sudden light,
And then he knew what’s right
For unlike others he had sight
And fought fair, but like a tiger, left and right.
And to all our delight
He slew his enemies before night.
So poetic justice got its victory
And thus, ends my short silly story.

Mr. Saptarshi Majumder

Fluttering Flap Fashioning Future

The butterfly flapped
And thus the future was mapped
They didn’t know that they existed
That since birth to each other was led
Life terraformed to be drives and rolls
They gave up defining goals
Tangled together they rolled down the hill
To find their wings and flight’s thrill
They saw the mirror
And a lot more
They were exact and extreme
Life transformed to be a living dream
But how did it happen?
One act at a time done now and then
Closing a door and chasing a way
Making a choice and going astray
Paved the path and the aftermath
And everything else that comes attached
In destiny’s plan
Might became can
She met him
And they met a dream
God making people in each other’s image
That for them is no mere appendage
For they have seen the light
In the darkness shining bright
Finding the other was a blessing
For only a select few could thus find meaning
The puzzle was complete
When fate made them meet
Two extremes coming together
Two images finding each other
The circle found its other end
There was nothing more to mend or amend
Now all they do is eat and sleep
And wander about in their souls deep
Traveling distances in and out
Living the balance of doubt and devout
Endless talk of spiraling curiosity
They found contentment in the new found identity
May be that’s how it does work
When we discover a companion to make sense of the dark
For light is just an opening of the eye
And colouring of the soul with someone’s dye
You and I become me and you
And that’s both ancient and new
They were born again
Like the new leaves sprouting after the rain
For life became a full circle
And that’s the crux of the magic and miracle
Of the butterfly flapping and causing a tornado
Of a cacophony becoming euphony of crescendo
For the song of life is little notes sung together
To become an epic ballad different altogether
Little things of what she and he did
Sowed the seed
That grew to be a tree
Under which they sit together and the world passing by see
Seeing and sharing her and his past present and future
Finding a cocoon of soothing solitude in each other and in the world’s clutter
– Mr. Saptarshi Majumder

The Fight

Why does he get irritated?
When she says this and that.
Every time it happens he thinks,
He will not in that morass again sink,
But from the depth of the soul,
The irritation floats forward to be the goal.
Maybe he needs to do something,
To down the expectation bring.
Need to be more objective
For these frustrations only make him grieve.
Need of the hour for him is control,
Shouldn’t in that trap again and again fall.
But then at times she is so adamant,
Like a taut metal strip all bent,
Ready to recoil and regress,
What her mind does stress.
Although together he and she does try to sing,
And arrive at an understanding,
But like a spring compressed,
She comes back to being possessed
What was there before discussion
And that adds to the tiresome tension.
But then things do eventually work,
As dawn happens after being dark.
Sometimes she gives some space,
Sometimes he does bring down his mace,
With grace they retreat,
With love they greet.
It is like dancing a tango,
Holding each other and letting go.
Fight’s fright and love’s light together,
Dancing in steps with the other
At times stepping out of order
At times stepping in order,
Learning to give and share
He and she who they are,
Flying to dizzying heights,
Falling to heart’s delight,
Fighting it out
Finding it a rout
But nothing can keep them apart
For the colours in the heart,
They are one another
Ever ready to go on an adventure.

Mr. Saptarshi Majumder
PGT English




Mother & the Mother Land, Hopeless Hope

I’m angry with you,
You leave us alone and never come back
You promise your beloved that you will come
But you never keep your promises
You leave your old mother promising her to come back
But at the end you break her hopes along with promises
Your father is maybe proud of your job
But inside he also has a question
“Will my son ever come back?”
You make your sister to wait,
Even if it’s her marriage, you never come.
Summer comes and leaves
Winter enters and exits
You don’t care,
The only thing you keep in mind is
“I have to protect my country.”
But, what about hopes?
Why don’t you protect them too?
You just leave the house and never step on it again.
You just leave all of us with a hopeless hope
It’s disappointed, your broken promises…
But that’s how a soldier lives
Broken promises and hopeless hope,
So that promise of the Mother Land remains true.

Ms. Joysmita Bharali
Class XC


You walk around me, camouflaged
You sing along with me, unheard,
You are right next to me and yet untouched,
Is this your raw beauty?
Or is this my longing, craved for sti

With time I know your roots will dig deeper into me,
With time I know you’ll be accustomed to this tiny shelter,
Pain, as they call it,
Happiness, as I feel it.
But fearful as I open about it.

He is rough, tyrannical, merciless
He cares less, drinks more,
Loves less, hurts more.

Telling lies, he is drunk, spineless, wobbly
And of course, those stains on his shirt,
Painful, yet I am consoled.
Scarily I approach,
Carefully I sit,
And slowly I take his hand to my womb,
Hoping for a smile, for a father he is to become...

And the next dawn?
I wake up in a room pale and dark,
I wake up in a bed stale and sharp.
I wake up to be a lost mother,
I wake up to the unwilling apology of a lost father.

Apologetic, I weep,
Mournful, he tries,
Drunk, he again lies.

And here lies my piece of hollow apology,
Mindlessly lacking its thought,
Remorsefully retiring from what I got.
Welcoming each day that the cuss brought.

Ms. Kasturi Dev Choudhury
BA 1st Year
Faculty of Social Sciences

We are born to…

We are born to lead our life.
So why we lag behind?
We are born to command our life towards bravery.
So why can’t we?
We are born to fight against our curse.
So why don’t we?
We are born to glorify the goodness in our life.
So why shouldn’t we?
We are born to make ours and others life shine,
So why couldn’t we?
Ms. Tanushka Mandal
Class XIIA

To a friend suffering cold

Your body is under attack
Cold virus is trying its luck
But your immune defence
Is trying hard to make sense
Of the enemy fighting dirty
Trying to make demages mighty
But the WBC did the clarion sound
And it is gaining lost ground
Enemy forces are pushed back
Although into the system they did hack
The setback is temporary
And believe me the cold virus will be sorry
For it will be vanquished
The rule of good health re-established
Till the war is over
My dear you must a little bear
But don’t worry
Those who attack will scurry
The defence becomes offence
Soon you will be doing the victory dance
But please do gurgle
Do help the WBC in the battle
And don’t forget to add a pinch of salt
For that upon the enemy is strike of lightning bolt
Fever tells of the combat intense
Going on to regain your body’s balance
My good wishes are always there
To inspire and make you dare
And the mind makes the body strong
To fight an attack and whatever’s wrong
Fight it out my dear
Tomorrow will be a new story to hear
The story of victory will be and is
Over the cold and cough’s blitz

Mr. Saptarshi Majumder

Dream on the Wall

I still remember that wall
Which was blank with white flaws,
When we thought of a dreamland
Or rather I say a possibility land.
I had never thought that something like this I’ll ever do
But yes dreams also comes true,
Day first was not easy
Oil and colours all the way,
Where the bright colours of tree was shining
There the blue waves were drowning
But yes my love towards colours proved me wrong
When the blue and yellow mixed all of
And turned into a dream wall,
Tough it was all teamwork of five
Which ended in such a nice way,
Now when we see that dream

Or rather I say the possibility land
The title gets changed from a dream wall to a dream on the wall.

Class XII A

Thus spoke the cadaver

Handle me with little love and care
As I had missed it in my life affair
Was too poor for cremation or burial
That is why am lying in dissection hall

You dissect me, cut me, section me
But you learn anatomy precise,
Worry not, you would not be taken to court
As I am happy to be with the bright lot

Couldn’t dream of a fridge for cold water
Now my body parts are kept in refrigerator
Young students sit around me with friends
A few dissect, rest talk about food, movies, past and memories
How I enjoy the dissection periods!

When my parts are buried post-dissection
Bones are taken out for the skeleton
Skeleton is the crown glory of the museum
Now I am being looked up by great enthusiasm

If not as skeletons as loose bones
I am in their bags and in their hostel rooms
At times, I am on their beds as well
Oh, what a promotion to heaven from hell!

Mr. Amartya Loying
M.B.B.S (1st Year)

Winter is Nearby

The wind whispered and went away,
I wondered what he said ;
And all of a sudden, a miracle happened
Abruptly, the weather changed.

The sky seemed to be upset
A bit nippy and darkened,
But the sun still gleamed through it
And tried to make her brightened.

I watched the geese fly to south,
I thought they won't be back again;
Those juicy, tropical mangoes were lost!
I searched for them in vain.

When I looked up in the sky,
Something white and fluffy fell on my nose,
I quickly rubbed it off and saw
My nose turned pink as rose.

Now I know those naughty winds
Have certainly teased mother nature, I
And as she is angry on him now,
It's time for her departure.

I cried and begged her not to go,
But atlast waved her goodbye;
I felt her tears, white and moist,
I knew for me she'll also cry.

I rushed to home and met my mom
And told her what I descry;
She laughed at me and said
Oh! These are signs that winter is nearby.

I was angry that mother nature fooled me
And even made me cry;
How fool I am, I thought
I didnt realise that winter is nearby!

Ms. Samadrita Mandal
Class - VII-C

All Too Much In Your ‘Tale’

The story of love revolves around my head
Speaking of love, of princesses and sometimes dread,
There was a girl or once upon a time
Is how a story begins with a witch committing a crime.
For far too long I heard the love stories and the tales
Narrating about a prince and a girl so bright but at first their love fails;
So comes a fairy godmother riding in a sparkling dust
Giving the girl magical gifts and rules following them are a must.
And at the end the prince gets his loves at first sight
Ending the tale with a “happily ever after” and fireworks, so bright!
Yet I feel so dark listening to the modern love stories with no tragedies
The stories made so, not to be true but just to please,
The girl now too bold, barely shying and oh the boy!
All down and depressed can’t talk no sense it is as if talking to a toy.
Where has the essence of true love gone?
I too miss the shabby ol’ tales not some cartoons left to be drawn
For an eternity I feel the gowns and tales have ended
The prince found his one true love but now those tales have faded.
Maybe love is seen as a fairyland of children and teen
Where our hearts are in search of our kings or a queen,
But why do I feel the true tales are yet to begin in our mind
We all can have a king or a queen, but the prince or the princess we just have to find…

Ms. Trishagnee Mazumdar
Class - XII (A)