The Burnout

I step out of my room

Fresh like a delicate bloom

Covered from top to toe

In the cotton and linen glow.

Its noon! The Sun has risen tall

And I resort to my parasol

Cursing the summer unfolding

Wiping away the sweat sighing.

As I slowly walk ahead

The Sun is blazing red and red

 I hear the concrete-mixer grind

Barefooted someone I find.

Dark, fragile, drenched in sweat

On the searing sand they are set.

I raise my canopy to peek out

And I see a fifty more burnout.

-          -Kranthi

       29/04/2017

The Wall

This wall is tall and everywhere. 
Carefully built with utmost care. 
Jump over it? Don’t you dare!
For Day by day it gets stronger.

Profuse shall you bleed, if you bruise
Not in red but in slur and abuse.
It is neither the wall of a prison
Nor the wall of Berlin.

It is the wall of Gender 
That you and I together built.
Try breaking it and you will see
More and more of'em being built.

Stop, will you? When you see
Hammers of hope pelt at it.
Break, won’t you? When you see
The tiny kids pass by it.

-kranthi

25/10/16

Oscillations in the world of contadictions

I sit in the classroom, and the professor cracks a joke about the celebrity sports star or a legendary musician of the black and white times. I sit through the seminars and gaze in awe as the speaker throws at the crowd his words of intellect. I toss between being the impatient 'incomplete self' and an admirer of the "other-I-wanna-be". I sit with my friends as they discuss the most popular TV series, directors, actors, movies, and music. I hear boys talk about cars, cricket, girls and gadgets and girls’ chit-chat about exams, parents, clothes, and boys. I toss between being a 'dumbo' who is clueless about anything to a 'dude' who has something to say about everything. I listen to frustration of students over their career, jobs, supervisors, and their ‘nothing-is-going-on-in-life’ stories. I get news of my old friends getting married and make babies, some of them struggling with their jobs and some of them clicking pictures all around the world. I toss between hope and despair. Different people do different things. Somethings I very well know, some I attempt to know and some I ignore. Certain things interest me while certain things don't. 

It is difficult to disentangle what I think I know, what I would like to know and what I should know. It is a constant struggle to acquire the characteristics that are 'respected and expected' and to give up those that are 'unwanted and unappreciated' in the eyes of the others. I am an outsider as well as an insider to this process i.e., I observe/expect as well as participate/change as a response to everything that is happening around me.  I am a part of this larger crowd trying to be different among the same and trying to change yet remain the same. I am the ordinary yet unique, and I am the static yet dynamic. It is this constant process of transformation between the 'self and the other' that results in turbulent changeovers. 

I oscillate between sudden bursts of boredom and excitement, happiness and moodiness, confidence and confusion, ambition and aversion, fascination and repulsion. My thoughts wander here and there like a meandering river. My attention drifts and the imagination goes wild and swift. In the flash of a second, I disengage from the concrete and engage with the abstract and vice-versa; I disengage from the present and engage with the past and the future. Where things can never settle but instantaneously change, what a tiny thing is my mind and hence I realize the futility of the search for the ultimate certainty and stability. So, here I set out to bother not about the trivial but the profound, not the logical but the creative and not the convergence to the set boundaries but the divergence away from them. I, after all, live in the world of contradictions and therefore I progress.

The Naughty kid in Me

“She is naughtier than a boy!” Many ladies in my colony told my mother when I was a kid. Not wasting even a second once the school bell rings, I rush back home, pull out my socks and shoes, belt and tie, and choke some milk and snacks down. I go door to door gathering all other kids of the colony to play hide& seek; color-color; chain and what not. Deeply engrossed into playing, I have always breached all the deadlines set to return home. To escape my mother’s anger, I have often extended my play time so that I can wait till it is the time my father gets back from the office because he never beats me. Many times, I haven’t even returned home after school playing with the kids who come to sell guavas, candies, ice golas, etc. My mother says searching for me in the entire colony was her daily routine and at least a mischief a day was mine. I am sure it will be a tiresome exercise to count how many times my mother used broomsticks and sticks to beat me. My sister, however, has been one of those siblings whose obedience will only add fuel to the fire. Even at school, if I remember correctly, I was never punished for not completing homework, or not answering in the class or scoring fewer marks, etc. But, I have been asked to stand on the bench or outside the class, make ‘goda-kurchi’ and ‘murga’ positions numerous times for all the mischief I did. My mother and I can recollect endless stories about my most happening childhood. Today I sit in my lonely room and wonder when no punishments can ever bind me, what will it be like reliving the naughty kid in me.

HCU stories: Those first anxious moments on the day of Admission!

It was 27th July, 2009. I filled my admission form and was waiting for my turn in a long queue to finish a day-long hectic procedure. I could see my father was very happy. He was warning me in his loud voice now and then to be alert and keep my certificates, application form, photographs etc ready. The Administration block was full with freshers, parents, and seniors running around. Various student political groups set up their help desks trying to interact with as many juniors as possible. I still remember the tents under which I eagerly and proudly waited to become the student of the prestigious University- University of Hyderabad. 

I was a 17-year old girl bubbling with new spirit and enthusiasm. I was very excited and very much anxious having stepped into a completely new and different world. Looking around, I found girls and boys moving very freely, talking to each other, laughing at each others jokes, shaking their hands. I saw guys and girls smoking together, I saw girls in loose hair, jeans, guys in shorts, guys with long hair, girls with short hair (though not very unusual). I heard people in the tents speaking different languages and trying to guess where they are from was the most exciting part for me. Some said they are Bengalis, some Keralites, Tamilians, Assamese, Mizos, Nagas, Many North Indians, and of course a lot of Andhrites too.  I saw SFI, ABVP and ASA banners everywhere. I ate in Gops and students' canteen. Xeroxed my documents in shopcom, ordered a bicycle in Lingampally on the same day. I met lot of seniors and my dad introduced me to SFI cadres and gave my phone number to them. I met some of my classmates, took a room in the hostel.

Those feelings as a young teenager just stepping out of a very protected and conservative zone into a modern and dynamic zone are not so easily expressable. Happy, tensed, anxious, confident, amazed: It is a mixed bag of several emotions. For the first time in my life, I felt proud of myself and saw a reason in studying well. Exposed to what we call a 'Cultural shock', I stood courageously and confidently being determined to figure my way to success.  

Time just passed so quickly that I took no notice of me growing five years older here itself. I am 22 years old now. It is 20th February, 2014. I joined when HCU is a part of Andhra Pradesh and about to leave HCU when it is a part of Telangana state. Things have dramatically changed. From political scenario to economic conditions and everything. Me too. I grew up from being a minor to a major, from an intermediate teenager to a Post-Graduate adult. I believe Change is inevitable. But I see that it is in our hands to direct the Change. HCU is a milestone in my life. 

It's really good to be a sister!! Love you Suri...

It is good to be someone for someone. Often, relations bind us with love, affection, emotion and most of all a deep feeling of responsibility for each other. Today I feel so proud to be a sister. I am happy to readily take up the responsibility to care for my younger sister, Sphoorthi Nanduri or Suri( as we call her at home). This is a big day for her. She secured 3rd rank in the University of Hyderabad entrance exam for IMA Social Sciences. The same place where I'm studying and the same course too. This came as a pleasant surprise to all my family members and friends. My dad went dumb with joy! All happies at home. 

Suri is always cool and never bothered so much about all these entrance exams and stuff like that. Even when you ask her, what is your future goal, she says, " I won't tell , but just show you". And she did it.

Now! I'm so happy that I'm feeling as if I've got 3rd rank and I got the seat here again. I couldn't sleep till     1. 30 a.m. I was thinking what I can do for her, which room should I reserve for her. Which book she needs, which options will be better for her, how to guide her to top etc..etc. It really feels so good to be a sister. After a long time, we are again together, going to study together for 3 years. Hope we'll get even more closer. And I really like to make her my BEST FRIEND!! 

Love you dear sister. A warm welcome to HCU!!