SKY IS HER LIMIT

M.KEERTHIKA

II BA ENGLISH LIT

SHIFT II.

It was a dark night,

When I opened my first sight.

Breathed the novel aura of the world,

Gently raised my head to knock.

My first successful hard work, it was.

Slowly moved my feet to touch the land

To mark my vestige on the sand.

I recounted my thoughts about the shell,

Which was a cozy house to plan my mission

And foresee it without even my vision.

Wished to run without legs,

Longed to fly without arms.

Now, I am ready to face the storms.

Cheerers buck me up from behind.

In the sky I am set to fly.

Many obstacles work as a spy

To stop my soaring thoughts.

But I, the woman, break it out with my wit

And proudly say sky is my limit.

A HELPLESS NIGHT

Five years had passed since he died but I still remember that night. It was a quiet day without any signs of death notice. I worked as a waitress at a cafeteria, 3rd floor, in The Taj. I was at my duty on time. The hotel’s dim light and the long red carpet welcomed us to our death jaws. But who did know that? We entered in without realising it is our death canal.

The residents and the tourists gathered around the restaurants for their breakfast and after lunch some headed back to their rooms while others stayed in the lobby. We cleaned up the tables and prepared the menu for that evening. Then we had our breaks. I finished my meal and decided to have some sleep. I was in the middle of my nap when I heard a howl all over the place.

“What happened?”I asked my colleagues who looked horrified.

“We are being attacked, there are terrorist in the hotel!”They cried with fear.

We dared not open the door of our restroom. We remained indoors for nearly three hours holding one another tight. The continuous sound of the guns and the pathetic voice of the innocents shook the whole hotel.

Nearly three hours had passed and the place became calm and quiet. I opened the door and we four slowly crept out. The scene was empty and there were no signs of any living beings. We held our breaths and walked across the corridor and halted in front of the door that led into the main lobby. I slowly turned the knob and examined the area. It was clear and so we sneaked in one by one. No sooner we entered there were fire shots everywhere. We were all scattered and I fled in a direction in which my legs carried me.I ran into a door and got tripped in the stairs that rolled me into a dark end.

I was badly hit on my head and I fainted. I was waked up by the splash of blood and I was terrified to see a man covered with blood lying beside me. He was shot badly on his right leg and was bleeding. I tied up his wound and decided to look out for help. There was no way we could escape through the front door that opened to the ground floor. It was packed with gunmen and it was like an open graveyard. We climbed up the stairs and we reached a door. Both of us hesitated for a moment and he turned to me:

“Hey listen! Let me go first and you wait here till I come and get you. If you hear any shots firing then run away, don’t bother about me. Alright?”

He seemed not less than thirty. He was like a business man with his tuxedo on. I simply nodded and he left. At that time I was surprised by his care and I felt comfortable to have someone in company in such a fearful situation. After a minute or two the door slid open and he let me in. He struggled to walk. It was almost dark and we followed the light that led to the back window. It was first floor; I noticed it in the broken plate above the lift.

We peeped out of the window and the whole scene was crammed with policemen, fire engines, press reporters and the helpless public. But we couldn’t shout for help as we felt that we could be heard by those animals. We rested that night below window hoping for some help. We kept our sleep aside may be because it could be our last chance for our eyes to be open.

“Is it hurting a lot?”I whispered.

“Yes!”He mumbled with pain.

I saw his face in the flash of light from the window. He was growing pale. He seriously needed help. Before I could say anything, “don’t worry about me, just run away and save your life” he reminded.

An idea suddenly stroked my mind. Every scavenger had an exit that led only to the ground floor garbage to dispose the waste. I assured him that I would come and get him and I attempted to find that way. I stammered to walk as the place was dark and scattered. I tried every door on the way and finally found the exit as it always had a horrible stench due to the damped garbage.

I definitely had a smile when I found that door but it was shorted lived. I wondered how to get back to him again because I might lose the way. But it was not fair as I blindly remembered the direction. It was a narrow passage, flanked with many rooms, that opened up into the front hall and there was another corridor with rooms that led into the window where the man lied.

As I began to walk back I heard some footsteps on the front hall. I quickly hid myself inside that exit. For a moment I thought I was so dead. The sound of the scratching footsteps began to diminish and from somewhere far away I heard a familiar voice, “don’t worry about me, run away, run”

There went a huge gunshot. I was helpless and had no other option but to climb down the stairs. I ran down as far as I could and finally reached the end. I saw the door that turned into the car park and did not stop running until I reached place surrounded by the cops and spectators.

I fell on the ground and literally cried. I could not believe that I was alive. But I felt sorry I couldn’t help that poor kind man. I even don’t know his name but his pale face still haunts me. Years have passed and there is still a whole punched in my heart and his helpless voice brings tears in my eyes.

H. Maryam Fathima

II BA English Literature

JOYOUS JOY

You run and reach my heart.

Soon you become a part.

My blithe spirit!

Then quickly you quit.

Though you’ve stopped your hail

I will send you a mail;

“O fair charming joy,

Tell me the reason why?”

A.YASMIN FATHIMA

II BA ENGLISH

SUCCESS!!!

Seeking success in my solitude life,

Where my soul sinks into a deep-

 solemn sea of sorrows;

When the simpleton discourages me,

Soon started realizing;

Success is not so easy,

But failure is not permanent!

                                                                                    ----ABIDHA RUMANA----

--

THE JOURNEY TOWARDS GOD

THE JOURNEY TOWARDS GOD

There were two unnamed orphan girls. They were together since they could remember

and considered themselves as sisters. They lived on the streets, slept on the platforms and

begged for food at each door. They were barely covered and food was a rare thing to them.

One day as they begged for food in a house, they were chased away by the house dog.

The houses were built with mud and bricks and so were the people in there. They did not

want to enter into any house expecting something to eat as they knew they would not get any.

They felt tired walking and rested under a tree:

“I saw a dog eating biscuits in that house! Isn’t it amazing? A dog eating biscuits!”

Wondered the little one.

“What is so amazing in that? If we ever get biscuits, that would be the most amazing

thing in the world”, chuckled the elder sister.

As time passed by, they could not bear their hunger. They asked for food to the every

passerby. One man pitied them and offered some money.

“May GOD shower his mercy on you”, he prayed and left.

As they munched the bread bought with that money, new questions dawned on the

little one:

“Who is GOD?” puzzled the little girl.

“People say that he created us and helps everyone to get out of their problem”, replied

the elder sister.

“Then, where is he?

Why didn’t we ask him for help?

Can he give us a name?” popped out the younger sister without letting the elder one to

answer.

“I think he is right up in the sky and he can give us a name, if we ask”, assured the

elder one.

Then both decided to meet god and ask him for help. They walked several miles

without any food and water. After a long walk, they halted before a graveyard with a boy

crying alone. They approached him:

“Hey! What made you cry?”

“My mom was taken by god and so she has gone leaving me all alone”, cried the poor

“Don’t worry! We are going to meet god, you can also accompany us and ask him to

return your mother”, consoled the little girl.

“Yes, you can“, added the elder sister.

The three of them continued their journey seeking god. They landed on a deserted

place with only rocks and mountains filling the way. It became dark and they were all tired

and starving too. They decided to take rest and continue their trip the next morning. As they

prepared to sleep, the little one came up with an interesting idea:

“Look at those mountains, they rub the sky and they can take us to god!” she

exclaimed with joy.

The morning dawned bright and warm. Both the boy and the little one woke up. But

the elder didn’t open her eyes. They shook her up, but no response. She had died of starvation.

“She is also taken by GOD”, said the little boy.

“Then she’ll ask him to take us as well. Let’s go on searching him till then”, said the

little one innocently.

With a smile on her lips and tears in her eyes, she bid her dear sister goodbye and

started climbing up those sturdy rocks. The boy followed her.

THE JOURNEY CONTINUED!

MARYAM FATHIMA

II BA ENGLISH LITERATURE

WHAT'S NEXT

What’s Next?

“Knock, knock, knock” thundered the door. Rohan sprang up from his sleep. He slowly crept away from his bed and slide the door open. His domestic help was standing with a glass of milk, wearing his usual cunning smile. Rohan grabbed his milk and slammed the door behind him. For a while he kept staring into the glass of milk as he sensed something was not really good. But then he thought that it was stupid and began to sip. After he finished his last drop, he leaned towards the table to place the glass and felt something wrong in his throat. He gulped down some water but couldn’t swallow it. His throat was becoming dry and he figured out that something was blocking his nose from breathing. He noticed the whole room spinning around his head. Suddenly the door burst open and he found his servant with a dreadful laugh that filled the air.

“Knock, knock, knock “thundered the door. Rohan woke up from his terrible nightmare and went to get the door. He hesitated for a moment and then dragged open the door unwillingly. To his shock he found his servant with a glass of milk, wearing his usual cunning smile...

H. MARYAM

II BA ENGLISH