My Story

  College life is like a buffet: you don’t get to choose everything, but you still pile your plate high with chaos, excitement, and the occasional disaster. My second-year Allied Optional course was one of those surprise items on the menu – “Autobiography and Travelogue,” courtesy of the English department and our effervescent professor, Dr. Supriya. Supriya Ma’am had this magical ability to turn mundane assignments into something exciting. Vlogs? Done one on Mahabalipuram. Reels? We nailed it (did a reel on Higginbotham). Food exhibitions? Ah, that’s where this story begins. Picture this: students from History, Economics, French crammed into one eclectic class. The second CIA exams were around the corner, and Ma’am decided to stir things up with a group assignment: a Food Exhibition. The rules? Unique cuisine. Showcase culture. And the killer clause: no Tamil Nadu cuisine. My gang, the misfit squad of Ajith, Nithish, Gokul, Sanjay, Edwin, Louis, and I, huddled together for our bra...

  Kanyakumari, the southernmost tip of mainland India, had been on my bucket list for some time. It had been nine years since I last visited—a trip I made with my family when I was in the 8th grade. I thought December 26 would be the perfect day to revisit this place, as it marks the 20th anniversary of the devastating tsunami that struck the region in 2004—a tragedy that shook not only the nation but also the world. Yesterday afternoon, I boarded a direct bus from Thampanoor to Kanyakumari and reached there around 4 pm. The beach was bustling with people, as it was the holiday season. The sight of the majestic Thiruvalluvar Statue and the Vivekananda Rock Memorial instantly brought back fond memories. I spent an hour wandering along the beach, where I had once collected unique seashells during my last visit. I remember proudly displaying those shells at my school exhibition in the 8th grade. As I walked along the shore, I couldn’t resist the nostalgic urge to pick up a few more se...

  Harilal Sir, my neighbour, and I decided to go for a long walk, taking a road neither of us had travelled before. The place was unfamiliar, but the local people were kind enough to guide us along the way. As we continued, we stumbled upon a breathtaking view. It felt as though we were standing on a hill station—rolling hills blanketed in lush greenery stretched out before us, creating a scene of serene beauty. As we admired the landscape, an old woman crossed our path. She was frail, her body resembling a walking skeleton, and one side of her frame was noticeably tilted. Her hand rested on her back, a clear sign she was struggling with some discomfort. Harilal Sir greeted her and asked for the name of the place. She responded, her voice weary but kind, and Sir began a conversation with her. In her tired yet earnest tone, she started describing the area to us. Curious, Sir asked her where she was coming from, and she paused, seemingly gathering her strength before answering. She s...

  It was a quiet, rainy night, and Gautham was driving alone on a deserted highway. His eyes were exhausted after a long workday, but he was eager to reach home. The rain picked up, pounding the windshield like a relentless drumbeat, and the visibility dropped to almost nothing. Suddenly, through the sheets of rain, a truck swerved into Gautham’s lane. He tried to steer away, but the car lost control and spun off the road, smashing into a tree. The impact was brutal. His head hit the steering wheel, and everything went black for a few seconds. When he opened his eyes, he was pinned inside the wreck. Blood trickled down his forehead, and pain shot through his body every time he tried to move. Terrified and disoriented, Gautham fumbled for his phone in the darkness. His mind raced. He had no idea how far he was from help, and his voice was weak. Desperately, he opened his contacts. Over 800 numbers were saved, but only one name stood out: Nirmal. Nirmal, his childhood best friend—hi...

 Alan was once a brilliant techie, renowned for his expertise and accomplishments. However, seven years ago, his life took a devastating turn when he lost both his wife and daughter in a tragic accident. Ever since, he had struggled to cope, finding solace in alcohol to dull the pain. His once-remarkable performance had declined, and despite his efforts to move on, Alan felt trapped in a cycle of hopelessness. One afternoon, while aimlessly wandering through a park, his thoughts heavy with grief, Alan noticed a little girl sitting on a bench, tears streaming down her face. Something about her small, fragile frame reminded him of his daughter, stirring emotions he had long buried. Concerned, Alan approached the child and gently asked, "What's the matter? Why are you crying?" The girl looked up, her voice trembling. "Uncle, I lost my doll. I left it here, but now it’s gone." Seeing the disappointment and distress in her eyes, Alan was moved. He knelt beside her, o...

 I always wear a helmet whenever I go outside, even if it's just nearby. Adhering to the law is second nature to me. However, I often notice many young people riding without helmets. On one occasion, after observing my steadfast commitment to safety, a young man asked me, "Why do you always wear a helmet? Riding without one is so cool." I replied that wearing a helmet has become a habit for me; I always take it with me wherever I go. These individuals often perceive me as uncool or unremarkable. It is common to seek activities that provide pleasure and happiness. This includes breaking laws, as people often find it thrilling and believe it enhances their social image. Engaging in such behaviour, whether it involves traffic violations or other forms of lawbreaking, can give individuals a sense of exhilaration and a misplaced sense of pride. Those who flout the rules often regard themselves as exceptional or daring. And those who obey the rules are considered uncool. The sa...

     During my final year of college, our department organized a trip to Agra and New Delhi. The excitement among everyone was palpable, as college life would soon come to an end in two months, and we all wanted to create lasting memories. We traveled to Agra on the Tamil Nadu Express. My two friends and I were seated near an elderly couple, likely in their 70s, who seemed genuinely delighted to meet us and began asking various questions, which we were more than happy to answer. They shared that they were from the Pudukottai district of Tamil Nadu and were on their way to Agra. The journey would take two and a half days, and my friends kept themselves occupied with different activities. On the second day, while I was chatting with them, the elderly man began sharing his life story. He revealed that he and his wife had a love marriage and that it had always been her dream to visit the Taj Mahal. She frequently urged him to take her there, but financial difficulties prevent...