English Lovers @ St. Mary's Pala

 BELLA CIAO  They say one night in Bandra can change your life, and trust me they’re not wrong. Oh, wait, I haven’t even introduced myself, my bad !!  I’m Money…yep  an actual crisp note, fresh from the Reserve Bank, still smelling of ink and possibility. How I reached Bandra is a journey in itself… well brace yourself  , after I was born in reserve bank  I was  stacked neatly in a bundle, then I was transformed to a far off bank  , after that I found myself in the calloused hands of a farmer, travelled all the way to Punjab, slipped into a taxi, and somehow ended up here, in Bandra, resting in the pocket of a taxi wallah. Crazy, isn’t it? Eeee—thump! I felt the taxi stop . Ohhh am I being transferred again? Wait… yes, I think I am. Just then a soft hand picked me up… oh it’s a womans ?  “Thank you,” she  said in a tired voice ; oh lorddy she reeked  of sleep deprivation and caffeine overdose.   Before I could blink I was ...

 

 

It might sound controversial, but believe it or not I hate brownies. Yes, I said it. I Know hate is a strong word, but so is the taste of brownies—bitter, heavy, Overdone. What I do love, though, is the vanilla ice cream on top. Oh, to be that Sweet, beautiful, pearly vanilla , melting elegantly while everyone adores you.  Now, before you throw hands at me, screaming, “but the brownie is the best part!” .the chocolaty, the fudginess, the richness , let me say this: everyone loves Brownies... Until they are one. The minute you’re brown, suddenly vanilla is the Crowd favorite. Vanilla becomes the prince charming, the job promotion, the fair Bride in the matrimonial ad. Brown? Just the base. The backdrop. The afterthought.  So yes, being brown ,being a brownie is the worst thing that ever happened to me. And out of love, oh so sweetly, my parents named me kali. Beautiful name, right? Divine goddess, powerful energy. Except, in this world, it’s just a constant reminder That i am t...

The world of adults, I once believed was filled only with love and peace .Hatred , envy , jealousy had no place there. At least ,that was what I thought as a child. Ironic, isin’t it? Looking back now, its clear children are the most innocent beings of all.  We are bound by emotions, like anger , sadness , jealousy , happiness, anxiety , disgust and ego . some of them like empathy, kindness , compassion and happiness are celebrated while some others like anger, envy and jealousy are shunned .Society praises one half and condemns the other . Yet aren’t both sides equally human ?  There is a paradox here. Crying is called weakness , anger makes us monsters , jealousy makes us vile. But is crying truly weakness ? Does anger always makes us beast ? Are jealousy and envy truly disgusting , or are they reminders of our longing , our hunger for something more ? How long can a man smile ? How long can he remain kind ? Can any man live without making mistake,never flattering , always a...

As he played his lyres last notes It trembled softly in his arms. A cruel mercy from the heavens – “Don’t look back” warned Hades. But in the final step to light He turned – And she was gone. He whispered a thousand apologies to his love Oh, such a cruel fate As he played his lyres last notes Hades listened. Nature listened. But could his love hear him play? Post by Leona Biju ( XIC - 2024-25 Batch) This poem is based on a beautiful painting by G.F. Watts titled Orpheus and Eurydice . It is displayed in the Salar Jung museum in Hyderabad. Orpheus and Eurydice are both characters from Greek mythology. Orpheus a charming musician fell in love with Eurydice and married her .Tragically she died shortly after and Orpheus descended into to the underworld to bring her back ,charming Hades the god of the underworld with his music .Hades agreed to let Eurydice go back to the land of the living on the condition that Orpheus must not look back at his wife till they reach the upperworld .But Orphe...

 A beautiful evening, the setting sun casts a warm glow over the hills. Lush green paddy fields brim with a rich harvest. Terraced valleys nurture the world's finest coffee beans. Lakes and rivers overflow with sweet, fresh water. Flowers and fruits bloom abundantly on the trees. Amidst the beauty of nature nestled a small village called Cocanad, where a lovely ancestral home lay. “Grandma, can you recite any tales?” asked a sweet little girl of five. Her beautiful green, doe-like eyes, filled with hope and excitement, instantly made the grandma answer affirmatively. The old lady looked around. Sitting in comfy chairs, her husband and sons were chatting at random. She peeped through the doors to watch her daughters-in-law laughing and gossiping while cooking. Out on the lawn, her grandchildren played with enthusiasm and vigor. With a contented smile, she began reciting a tale from her memory lane…. ” Once upon a time, there lived a man and his wife with their children in a small, b...