branwyn june 2014

8/12/2019 Branwyn June 2014

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2/16

Branwyn is the Goddess of love, beauty,mischief and mystery. It also relates to genuineliterature. The name has been tossed byLavkesh Kumar Singh.

Publisher and DirectorVineeta Gupta

Founder and Editor-in-ChiefSneha Rahul Choudhary

MentorDr. Subodh Kumar Jha

Assistant Editor

Pranav Shree

Tech SupportRahul Kumar Singh

Legal and Financial AdvisorAbhishek Singhania

Contacts:

Email : [email protected]@branwyn.in

[email protected]

Website : www.branwyn.in

Editorial

Dear Readers,

It is a well known fact that all Changeis the permanent Law of Nature. But

when it comes to our readers interests, it is more volatile than ourimaginations. For some similarreasons, we and our Branwynunderwent a series of changes. Ittook some time and the current issuegot slightly delayed.

Still, we believe that we havesucceeded in bringing a grand issue

of your favourite Branwyn to you.Besides our Star Columnists, thismonth we have featured Authors likeHarshita Shrivastava, Ila Garg,Deepali Junjappa and others. Inaddition, we have replaced theAmateur Scribbles column withGuest Article . We have alsointroduced the Cover Story in a new

flavour with the book The UnwantedShadow. Hope our readers wouldlike it.

Suggestions and feedback are alwayswelcome.

With warm regards,

Sneha Rahul Choudhary


3/16

Alpine Ambergris : Dr Subodh Kumar Jha

Kitchened Desires

Kitchened desires

Throb, throb within the

Human constitution

Raking the folded memories

Rallied you always

Rallied with loving chastisements

That always ended

In the flamed meeting

Tutored pendulum

Of beastly urge

Instilling Instilling and swelling

Into my fibres

Leans devotedly

To the illuminating light

Though triggered long before

Torching the path still

- Subodh K. Jha(Dr. Subodh Kumar Jha)

Head, Dept. of English,

S.N. Sinha College,Jehanabad

Dr. Subodh Kumar Jha has been amember of NCERT and UGCWorkshops for the proficiency ofEnglish Language in various studystreams! At present, he is aprominent part of MagadhUniversity as the Head ofDepartment of English in S.N. SinhaCollege!He honoured Branwyn with hisspecial segment titled "ALPINEAMBERGRIS". Alpine meansmountain peak which denotesSubodh Sir's intellectual personaand Ambergris means a fragrantsubstance found at sea level. Thus,"Alpine Ambergris" togetherdenotes the combination of anintellectual person like Subodh Sirand novice writers like us who arejust trying to make a difference!


4/16

The twenty-first century started off rough for mostof the world. 9/11 and the war that followed still

hollow the memories of the generation from within.Its strange how it continues to affect us, and deepdown we know it always will.

When all of this was happening, I was busy runningmy errands at home. I lived in a small town namedMangaldai, funny name for a place if you ask me. Itwas untouched by all of it. The news took days toreach us and when it did, it didnt mean anything. Itwas from a different world, and we had our ownlives to take care of, our own complications to get

through.

My name is Mohan Sharma, h eight 62. I dont thinkI am handsome but everything is at the right placeon my face; so I guess I am not so ugly either. I wasbrought up in a conservative way in this remotepart of the country. I have three elder sisters andoften heard my grandmother say that my parentswanted a boy all along and in that way, I was a gift.Soon, this became evident in everything they did. Iwas given an egg in breakfast while my sisters got

nothing at all; not even Neetu who was only twoyears older to me. I was the one who got newbooks and toys. My sisters never complainedthough, despite the fact that they had to do all thehousehold chores also. I think they too hadaccepted that they could have done nothing aboutthe whole situation; having been born in a placelike this didnt give you the right to question things.

To tell you the truth, I didnt like this arrangement,but still I could never gather enough courage to say

it in front of my mother. From time to time, I wouldget angry at my parents for treating my sisters likethat, a few days would pass and things would goback to what they were. Sometimes, I wondered ifmy parents just loved me because I was a boy andby law was endowed to take care of them.

My father was a teacher in the town high school,and with the income from the tuitions he took, wewere doing well, better than most of the families inthe town. His being a teacher also meant we had to

be regular at school, unlike other children in theneighborhood. My father made it a point that mysisters attended school too, and when they wantedto study more, he agreed, and for that I amthankful to him. My mother clearly and vehementlydisagreed with him on this point, but the houserules applied to her too; the man of the house hadasserted his decision. So, with a happy heart Iwatched my sisters go to college everyday and

waited for the day when my turn would come, theday when I would head towards my dreams.

But as I grew up, whenever I would bring up thetopic, I saw tinges of reluctance in my father s eyes.Later, I came to know the reason. My father mighthave been a teacher in school but he was nomodern thinker, he thought like the rest of theworld. He wanted me to stay back, live with him,teach in the school like he did, and then somedayget married so that my wife would serve him. Henever expressed these expectations out loud, but Iknew this was the future he had thought for me in

his mind, because it had been in my mind too whenI was younger.

But I knew it could never be my life; so contrary tohis wishes I got busy in weaving dreams of my own.And it was these dreams that gave me the incentiveto study late in the night, till my eyes ached.Education means a lot of things to people, but forme it was an escape. With all the work in the house,sometimes things drove me crazy, but I knew thatif ever I could leave this place, education would be

my only saviour. And for that, being good in studieswasnt going to be good enough. I had to be better.I had to be extraordinary.

I was eighteen years old and had just finishedtaking my board exams. My days consisted oftalking to friends and doing odd jobs to earn somemoney for my education. The construction siteprovided me just the opportunity. The pay was less,but it was at least something, and working for myeducation gave me hope that one day I would

indeed be going to college. I didnt tell my fatherany of that. I just told him I had nothing to do; so Iworked there. But I think he did guess why I wasworking, although he didnt say anythi ng. By thenmy elder sister, Priya, already had a job as ateacher in the same school where my fatherworked.

One fine evening, my father was out and motherhad asked me to get some groceries from the shopat the nearby chowk. It was a windy evening, and I

was leisurely walking back home with thoughtsplaying on my mind, watching a kid run a cycle tyrewith a stick, watching people coming back fromtheir offices in their motorcycles. I was planning onwhat I would do that night when suddenly I heardnoises coming from our house. At first I assumedthat some relatives had come to our house, butthen I heard a wail, and then I heard my fathershout. I could not clearly make out what he was

An old sin, A new sentence


5/16

saying, but I was able to figure out that he wasterribly angry. Who was crying, or who had hebeen shouting at, I had no idea

Saying a silent prayer under my breath, I walkedfaster, wondering what hell had befallen our homenow. Five minutes later, in the living room I foundmy father in his chair, breathing heavily and Richa,my second sister, standing beside him. Neetu stillhadnt returned from her clas ses, I noticed. Priyastood beside Richa. It was as silent as it could get,and respecting the mood of the moment I stood atone corner, saying nothing. I had no clue what washappening, but when I looked at Priya andmanaged to hold her gaze, she shook her head andindicated that she would tell me later. I wonderedif father had hit Richa. It was so not him. I mean yes,

he did get angry from time to time, but I had neverseen him so angry. Nobody said anything for awhile. Finally, after a few minutes of silence, dadshouted at Richa to go to her room. Richa obeyedwithout any protest. It seemed as if even a lightbreeze would have got her off her feet. And thenslowly Priya got up and went back to preparingdinner as if nothing had happened, while he sat inthe room for some more time. When he realizedthat he had done what he had to do, he went to thenearby store to have his regular smoke.Immediately after his departure, I went to talk toRicha but she wouldnt open the door; so I went tothe kitchen to talk to Priya instead. She was busychopping vegetables when I walked in. I didnt sayanything for the first few minutes, just watched herhands mechanically chop the vegetables. Whenmom went away, I fired her with my questions.

What happened? Did she get kicked out of schoolor something? She raised her eyes at me. I couldsee that she was sad and realized that the matterwas much more serious than that.

No, dad s aw her with a guy from college. Theywere kissing. He was really angry today. He evenslapped Richa.

I knew this had happened when I saw Richas facethis evening, but the shock of hearing it was stillthere. Mother didnt stop him?

No, I tried She let the sentence hang there,realizing she had already said too much.

What? Did he hit you too? She tried to protest,but when I held her gaze, she told me.

Now, you dont start fighting with dad again.Okay? He didnt mean to hit me. He was just angry.I knew what she was trying to do. The last time dadhit Neetu, I had had a big fight with him. I mean Icould go on like nothings wrong when he treated

them like that, but hitting was something I stronglyfelt about.

This time I said nothing. Priya would like it more ifI did nothing, I knew, and after having such a hardday, I owed her that.

I knocked, but Richa is not opening the door, Ifinally said to break the silence.

She will be okay. She told me about the guy somedays back. I should have told her to stop then, itwould not have come to this. I dont know whatdads going to do now.

He already hit her, what more can he do? Ishouted. And why didnt she tell me about it? Iasked, remembering I was the only one not toknow about this.

She made me promise not to tell you or Neetu. Shewas scared dad might know.

I nodded.

I kept silent after that, while she continued to workwith the dough. The plastered walls of the kitchenhad been blackened by the smoke emanating fromthe gas burner below. There was no fan in theroom, although father had promised to get itinstalled soon. The smoke was suffocating in there,but the women had to work here all day long. Theydidnt seem to mind. Maybe they were comfortablein the heat just like my father was with his life. Itseems impossible to do something when you watchit from a distance, only when you are in it that youcome to know.

I looked over at Priya. She was shaping the doughinto small spherical balls, sweat dripping off herbrows. I would have offered to help her, but I

would make more mess than dinner. She gave me asmall smile when she saw me looking at her. Ireturned it the best I could. We both sat incomfortable silence.

She really loves him.

Sorry! What did you say? I aske d.

She really loves him. I met him once. He is good. Inodded, but both of us knew it didnt matter if hewas good, father would never agree. Even Richa

knew that.What scared me was if Richa could go on living likenothing had happened, and accept it as her fate?That would be hard, but there was no other option.

The front door opened and both of us craned ourneck to look who arrived, expecting neighbors whohad heard the fight, or worse..dad.


6/16

To our relief, it was Neetu. She went to keep herbag inside the room, which she, Richa and Priyashared, but found it locked. She knocked for awhile but no one answered it. I shouted for her tocome to the kitchen.

Priya poured her a cup of tea from the pot. Neetukept her bag and sat in a chair. She had noticedhow silent the house was. Usually there would besome sort of noise - sometimes neighbors,sometimes mom.

I told her what had conspired in the evening,though I spared her the part where dad hit Priyaand Richa. She didnt say anything when I told h erthe story. She was probably imagining how it mighthave happened. Maybe she guessed that dad hadhit Richa.

Awhile later, mom went out for a walk, but notalong with dad. In my town, one rarely seeshusband and wife taking an evening stroll together.There was no rule against it, but thats how thingswere. Men hung out with other men in theneighborhood, while women stayed in the house orwent to their neighbors house and talked stuff. Iguess mom just needed to clear her mind. I didntknow when dad would be back. Normally, he cameback half an hour before dinner. It was alreadyseven.

And as for Richa, I wondered for how long shewouldnt be taking dinner. I asked Neetu to comewith me and help to get Richa open the door. It wasafter ten minutes or so that she answered our call.

Leave me alone for a while, she said in a crackedvoice.

I urged Neetu to say something.

Let us in! Nobodys at home except Mohan andPriya Di. Please open up, you are worrying us. Thedoor opened after a few minutes. As we entered, Icould see that her eyes were swollen; she musthave been crying the whole time. I couldnt blamethe guy who fell for her though, even with herswollen eyes and red nose she looked beautiful.

We sat in her room, Neetu trying desperately to liftup her mood. Priya couldnt be there; she had a lotof work to do since mom wasnt there to help her. I

wonder now what it would be like to teach for thewhole day in school and then come back andprepare dinner for the family. I feel guiltysometimes for letting them rot in that piece of hell.But there were few things that could have beendone.

Richas mood lightened up a little by the time momcame back, but we all knew that when dad wouldcome back, nothing would be normal again.

Father came back an hour later than usual. Dinnerwas taken by everyone in complete silence. EvenNeetu, whose voice would usually ring during thedinner, was silent. Father didnt talk to Richa, andmy mother too didnt, because she was afraid itmight offend dad.

Later that night, I heard Richa sniffing in the otherroom. I heard Priya say something to her, though Icouldnt make out what she was exactly saying.Their talking went on for a while, after which theyboth fell silent. I couldnt sleep well that night. Th ethought of what would happen the next day stillterrified me. I wanted things to get back to normalat the earliest. And I believed they would, sooneror later, like always. But for me, it was the firsttime that they didnt.

- The following chapter has been taken from the novelThe Unwanted Shadow written by authorBhaskaryya Deka. Bhaskaryya grew up in Mangaldai,Assam, and then moved briefly to Visakhapatnam tocomplete his schooling. Now, he lives in Dhanbad,pursuing B.Tech in Mechanical Engineering at IndianSchool of Mines. He is an avid reader, with particularinterest in Literary Fiction. He also maintains twoblogs where he posts book reviews, poems,humorous articles and random thoughts that crosshis mind. When he is not writing, he likes to spendhis time listening to music, hanging out with friends,and travelling.


7/16

Life is a bitch and Im one of its victims. I had the perfect life.I was blessed with the perfect boyfriend, a perfect bestfriend, the perfect set of girlfriends and perfect choice ofcareer. There were some loopholes but then they wentbeyond my perspective. Overall, I had the kind of life peoplewould ideally like to have but happy times aren t meant tolast forever.

Sometimes we feel that we have figured life but thats something that is never going to happen. You know why? Its because it has this habit of kicking us right in the middle ofecstasy. No wonder, it did the same with me.

This is my story, my story of that exploration within, myfeelings, my emotions, my thought process, my priorities, myconflicts and my journey into the temptation of love, lust, liesand betrayals. This is the story of Kritika and a man whogave her life another dimension, Tanishq. This is a story ofthe complexities of relationships and the trap that a simpleidea of sensuality, pleasure and euphoria can put you into.This is a story for everyone who has loved, lost and foughtfor survival and love, together.


8/16

As per our met department monsoons havegot delayed by one more week; it is music toour Indian ears. This thought rose to acrescendo in my head and I ruefullydisembarked the metro. As I descendeddown the stairs my eyes rested upon twostoic faces with a swaddled box in theirsweaty palms. The concealed fate in form of

the box read as donate for victims andironically our lexicon never demarcatedcontours of the term victim.

I trudged further towards church ponderingand it was then I witnessed somethingincredible.That something defied my learning and myappalled senses. I saw a man weavingthrough the crowd in a rugged t shirtwalking with two pair of slippers. Before youjump to arbitrary conclusions, he was

differently- abled and he had worn thoseslippers in his palms as well.This thought might just induce anexcruciating pain in you; I hope it impels usinto action.

Buy candle sir buy candle a packet for 10A middle aged woman in early 40s alongwith her young daughter were shouting fromthe pavement in front of the Church andbeckoning to make the purchase. As I went tothat lady, she smiled and quickly handed me

a packet of candles. As she did so, her handstrembled miserably. I enquired about if shehad visited the doctor, to which she repliedthat she did, but it did not bring much ofrelief.. I bought a packet of prayers . Therewere 10 praye rs in it with each prayer Isurrendered myself to God almighty.

I vividly remember the nimbus canopy ofclouds were waltzing on the celestialcanvas... it would have rained anymoment..With my steadfast faith I lit candlein the potent breeze,, I retraced my stepsfrom the candle stand and watched the wickwith a keen lookpraying that it staysundaunted by the windhowever asudden gush of breeze doused it.. I was aboutto light it again, it was then a faint and adevout voice called out to me- Sir take mycandle and light it again and this time do

remove your shoes as you do so I wasfrozen in my tracks,,, that little candle girlhad stirred my soul with her generosity .. Iwas awestruck for a while and I said Yes Iwill do so.

As I walked bac k..kept thinking about howmother and daughter duo bring light ineveryday seekers lives, how they have arepository of it ( candles). when theythemselves are seeking for one!

Sacrament Sobriety : Gaurav Gill

Strong with the Wind

Mr. Gaurav Gill is a person ofquintessential contemplationknown for his kind and modestnature. He is a lecturer and lives

in New Delhi.


9/16

eep your eyes on a distant star

Keep your eyes on a distant starA voice of yours is heard afarFarer than the barren Thar

Is none but oneBut just that star

Keep in your heart a golden lightSee that star and take to flight

For none will hear you in silenceNone but one but just that starShall help you out in resilience

For it may be farBut close in your heart

It will light the darkAnd make it bright

So lead the wayThe North Star shines

Just keep in your heart a distant starFor a voice of yours is heard afar

Farer than the barren TharIs none but one

Just one that star So open your eyesAnd go gaze deep

For someday your heartShall take a leap

And reach that tiny distant starKeep your eyes on a distant star

A voice of yours is heard afarFarer than the barren Thar

Is none but oneBut just that star

- Neharika Saxena


10/16

For Mimi Hittalmani, a confused twenty something life is about tobegin. After getting sacked by her editor for attending a sillyBollywood bash, clotted with a nasty breakup; Mimi decides to expandher worldview. Two years later, armed with a foreign degree and

some flashy Aussie stories she begins her misadventures in Mumbaiwhere she meets the gorgeous Mehra brothers and falls in love with allthree at once. Mimi then joins the carnival and lets herself go on thetrain of chaos, cacophony, camera and drama. Shes glad; her copassengers are all potential soul mates, she never met; thebrotherhood of lost loves. From then on the joy ride of working,flirting, schmoozing, networking and finally falling in love become partof Mimis quirky and hilarious journey. By the end she realizes that thetwenties are indeed twisted; its ok to goof up, jump courses, changecareers, flout opinions and of course chat up four guys at once!


11/16

She Delicate is She, Handle with care!

Soft petalled Lily, crush how you dare?

Glass like fine, a shard that draws bloodShes not just a kohled line

That youd want to smudge

Like leather that weathers,Transitional tantrums she suffersAs aqua she adjusts and endures

Bears like wood, her steely determinationTry, test, torture her not

To raise ire & invite indignation

Fool not her trust,Dense as a diamond,

Molten lava like she bursts!

Burning charcoal,The smog smoke she herself soaks

Or else on the soot of her pyre she chokes

A tear drop she slips for love,Like a dewdrop from a leaf does

When the wind shoves

Fascinates her fragrance as that of a roseCalming like sandal, she has also been fire

Whenever the moment arose

Merely scribble her not as a note in your lifeWhoever is she, girlfriend, fianc or wife!

Always and always, treat her right.

- Purvi


12/16

The Fight is Right

It had been a tough day.

As usual, the boy had been late for giving tuitions after hiscollege classes. When he did reach the house, the weatherwas still ruthlessly hot.

He had been walking all those eight kilometers with thehope that at the other end of it, he would have cold water,right out of the fridge. He had walked much more than eightkilometers, and he knew, but saw no point in giving hismisery its due credit.

All that greeted him was a heavy lock on the door.

He must have been late, he guessed. He tried to recollect ifthey had asked him not to come on that day. He took out hiscell phone to see the time.

It had been dead for long. He remembered. So they musthave called to tell him not to come.

But today, they had said they would pay. Maybe they wouldcome back in a few minutes. Maybe they were inside, withthe door locked for some weird reason. He knocked.

He sat on the stairs, waiting. The July sun was more

acrimonious than it had appeared while he was walking.His calves hurt badly, and he felt the throbbing veins inthem. A mild breeze, with some intrinsic heat reshapeditself to hit every molecule of his face, making it too red forhis own eyes to ignore.

He got up, and began to walk again. Another eightkilometres! He wasnt prepared for this.

Four rupees! He counted again. He ransacked his pockets,with the vague hope that he had missed a coin somewhere.As expected, there was no pleasant surprise waiting for him.

He walked slowly. Periodically looking at the sun! Trying toignore his calves. Trying to ignore his hunger!

This time he noticed that eight kilometers were longer thanhe had imagined. The dust on his feet seemed to be addingmore weight than it possibly could. The nails in his old pairof shoes were hurting with every step. Shifting his attentionback to hunger was a better idea, he decided.

Towards the end of his long walk, he came to the thela hehad been thinking of during his walk.

The cheapest food in the city! He counted the money onemore time. No variation. Six rupees short!

He would have to do it. Eat the food, and then pretend thathe had been picked, and then give away four rupees, withthe promise that he would pay six rupees the following day.He never doubted his acting skills.

He ordered a plate. And stood among the others, who hadcome for their supper to the same destination! Manuallabourers , cart pullers, cobblers relishing the food aroundthem. Chewing slowly, to make the bite last. To extend thesatiation!

His eyes fell on the bald kid, barely seven or eight years old,washing the dishes in the most unhygienic way possible. Alarge, broken tub had water was all his resource, and alldishes were immersed in them and taken out. Everyonesaw this, and somehow, everyone had decided to believethat this was the proper way of washing dishes.

The boy was conscious to avoid seeing the washing. Andconscious about avoiding being spotted by his classmates!Not that they had never eaten at this place. But for him, itwas his meal.

He looked at the kid again. Mechanically washing dishes! Hewas about to be cheated. Robbed of six rupees by a lying,hungry hypocrite, who had the mask of an artist!

The food appeared in his hands. He looked at it greedily.The last time food had entered his mouth was in theprevious morning. He could act. And he knew he would paysix rupees later.

He kept the food on the thela , and made a silent exit.

The four rupees were still in his pocket. He took them out,to pelt them away in frustration.

His heart didnt allow this. He took a step back, decided togo back to the kid washing dishes, and give the money tohim. But then, he wasnt begging. Ruthless world, but theurchin was a better man than many dignified thieves in thepoisonous city.

Four rupees finally bought him two cigarettes. Withoutfilters! He couldnt have used it better. They would keephim awake. They would mitigate his hunger. That would bea good use.

Then suddenly, while walking to his room with hiscigarettes, he had a hearty laugh.

Betrayed again, yet again, by the very same people he hasoffered to teach. He knew they were never going to pay himfor his tuitions now. Cheated!

Time to search someone else to teach!

He was a grand young man.

Mr Incandescent Speaks

Lavkesh Singh [BranwynColumn name Mr.

Incandescent] is anInvestment Banker whoworks in the Realm ofMergers and Acquisitionsfor his living. He atpresent resides in NewDelhi.


13/16

Ishani, a young, pretty and multi-talented girl with a carefree attitude, lives ina world of her own. A girl with small little dreams, she carries a happy-go-

lucky nature. Always surrounded by friends, she loves to help people and is aquick learner. When she gradually tries to find a place in this messed upworld, everyone around her starts to lure her as she trusts easily and can'tdiscriminate between right and wrong. She often falls for maskedpersonalities and camouflaged individuals but it is life, right? It has its ownways to teach its disciples. . She makes efforts to bring a smile on every faceand wishes someone would do the same for her.Can a completely broken girl emerge as a winner at the end? Will she be ableto unveil the masks? What does it take to judge right from wrong? Whatsurprises life holds in its box for her? Is it ever going to be easy for her tochoose or will she continue to stay in her dilemmas?


14/16

Strangled Voice

The nurse put me in a plastic bagAnd I wondered if it was a gift wrap,

I was so happy because I came to this worldWanted to see the one who gave me birth

But then I heard a voice so loud,Did somebody throw me off the bridge? I doubt.

I felt like I cant breathe anymore

My voice was choked, before I spoke anything.And just when I was about to die,

Something unwrapped me with a force so highI thought my mom rescued me..

But the horror was worse than anything it could beThe dogs tore every bit of flesh left inside,

But I was thankful as it ended my lifeThe pain of abandonment and terror gripped my soul

I asked God I dont want to be a girl in next life anymore. I just wanted to be loved and fly so high...

Didnt even get a place six feet under the sky I had no courage to fight for life..

Why do I have to pay for being a girl child?

- Anne Dey


15/16

Beginning of New Life .

A predestined bond between two souls,

That will make two incomplete lives whole,

And will create the fusion of two families,

A wedding that will hold them together infinitely,

Rituals will be performed to take the sacred vows,That will ensure the purity of love for rest of life,

The promise will be taken to always be together,

Happiness will fly over everyone like a feather,

A wedding that is meant to find someone special,

Someone who will know you better then yourself,

Someone who will always bring smile on your face,

And someone who will soon make your life complete,

Every smile that you will have on blissful mornings,

Every laugh that you will share on evening coffees,

Will become sweetest little moments for the life,

The wedding will make the walk of life full of thrive,

An anticipated moment that is going to arrive soon,

A moment that will count every second spent together,

A moment for which everyone waited so long,

A moment that will make you together for lifelong

Mr YouKnowMe Speaks

Mr. YouKnowMe is someone whom all ofus know yet all of us are still to discover.He is a biker, an author and like all of us,a lover of life He is at present workingwith an IT Company.


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BR NWYN

branwyn june 2014

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