tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-45083531605996603142024-02-08T21:36:00.775+05:30Ninad--The Conch Blow of JECRCNeilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12170419608911499403noreply@blogger.comBlogger5125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4508353160599660314.post-48033460644439954462008-05-11T23:38:00.004+05:302008-05-11T23:49:57.222+05:30<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-style: italic;">This is a very nice article trying to explain...what do we have to be proud of</span><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">Excerpt.....</span><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">...Knowledge is like a current coin. A man has some right of possessing it, if he has worked for the gold of it, assayed (test, fineness of metal) it, and stamped it, so that it may be received by all men as true; or earned fairly, being already assayed: but if he has done none of these things, but only has it thrown in his face by a passer-by, what cause has he to be proud? And though, in this mendicant fashion, he had heaped together the wealth of crore, would pride any more, for this reason, become him, as in some sort it becomes the man who has worked hard for his fortune, how-ever small? So, if a man tells me the sum is larger than the earth, have I any cause for pride in knowing it? Or, if any multitude of men tell me any number of things, heaping all their wealth of knowledge upon me, have I any reason to feel proud under the heap? And is not any knowledge, of which we boast in these days, cast upon us in this dishonorable way; worked for by other men, proved by them and then forced upon us even against our wills and beaten into us in our youth, before we even have the wit to know if it<span style=""> </span>is good or not. Be assured, there is no part of the furniture of man’s mind which he has hewn and fashioned for himself.</p> <p style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal">Ankur Mathur</p> <p style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal">Asstt. Professor</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Electrical Deptt.</span><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> <span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">To read the full article read Ninad 2007 edition.</span><br /></o:p></p><br /><br />Deserve to DesireNeilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12170419608911499403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4508353160599660314.post-88934370081171986372008-04-18T02:23:00.004+05:302008-04-18T02:28:12.663+05:30'Poem of the Week'<span style="font-size:130%;"></span><span style="font-style: italic;">This poem is the Blogger's poem of the week...I couldn't assign a suitable title to it ....let's see if you can.......<br /><br /><br /></span><!-- Copyright (c)2006 Site Meter --><span style="font-weight: bold;">How coolly it has broken you,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">trying to mask the knowing</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">wit behind your eyes—</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">every smile, brilliant</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">against your gleaming</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">black skin, is defiance.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">You stammer, push out</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">words; tell your story;</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">slap your knees to show</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">where your stroke frozen</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">body would crawl</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">across the concrete</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">to reach the yard,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">with the gawking</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">on-lookers. You laugh</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">“Man must live.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Man must live.”</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">How casually broken.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Tall lanky man,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">hands clawed, yams</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">dangling, and the sweet</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">club mans charm</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">in your grin, still all those</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">women slain by your art.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">You stretch out your legs,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">tell your story slow,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">persistent as the crawl</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">you made towards sunlight,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">the way you pulled</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">your body upright,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">the way you made tender</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">the toughness of hard men</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">who would soon wash you,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">feed you with oily fingers</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">full of mashed ackee</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">and tomatoes, who have</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">held you against</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">the night, men, tough</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">as teeth, hard men.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">"Man must live.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Man must live."</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">The virus stalks</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">through your blood,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">manages to tickle,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">make you laugh</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">at a new sunny day--</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">and yours is the posture</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">of survival.</span><br /><br />Deserve to DesireNeilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12170419608911499403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4508353160599660314.post-6496926827587728392008-03-12T00:13:00.002+05:302008-03-12T00:22:16.327+05:30To Love a Woman<p class="MsoNormal">To Love a Woman.......</p><br /><p class="MsoNormal">A very romantic kind of a song which ignites the feelings of love in anyone who reads it. I wanted this song to be here cause a its a very beautifully sung song and lets you understand the very chemistry between a man and woman who are in LOVE with each other.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold;">'Love'</span> an impeccable human emotion<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Excerpt<span style="font-weight: bold;">......</span><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">‘Love’ ….god’s tool of manipulating the nature or in descent words influencing it. The ultimate binding force between the two stanchions MEN and WOMEN. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span><b style=""><i style="">I don’t know what it is but she drives me crazy<o:p></o:p></i></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><i style=""><span style=""> </span>I don’t know what she does but she drives me wild.<o:p></o:p></i></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><i style="">Only she can let me be the man that I want to be<o:p></o:p></i></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><i style="">Or she can leave me helpless as a child</i></b><i style="">.<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Yes she makes me wild. She makes me cross boundaries without going across. Its her presence that makes me myself. It is she who gives me a meaning, a different identity. Whether I have the maturity to understand her meaning to me or not but she has the understanding of my soul. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><span style=""> </span><i style="">I don’t know what it is but she has the power <o:p></o:p></i></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><i style=""><span style=""> </span>She can make me laugh when I want to cry<o:p></o:p></i></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><i style=""><span style=""> </span>She tells me that I m in control but I know it’s just a lie <o:p></o:p></i></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><i style=""><span style=""> </span>Will she love you tomorrow like she loves you today?<o:p></o:p></i></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><i style=""><span style=""> </span>She can keep your heart guessing but she’s yours if she stays.<o:p></o:p></i></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><i style=""><span style=""> </span>That’s what it feels like, to love a woman............. <o:p></o:p></i></b></p> Dhiraj Hundlani<br />III yr CSE<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">To read the full article read Ninad--The Conch Blow of JECRC(2007 Edition). Do comment on this post to appreciate the effort of the writer.<br /><br /></span>Deserve to DesireNeilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12170419608911499403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4508353160599660314.post-81298553587100563682008-02-21T00:21:00.000+05:302008-02-21T00:41:55.265+05:30The Orphan ChildThe Orphan Child.....<br /><br />A very Nice article printed in last year's College Magazine(2007 Edition). This article tries to the intimate writers experience in an orphanage where she understands the feelings of being deprived from parental love and affection. This takes her to the thoughts of similar solitude experienced by many old age parents when they are admitted in Old Age Homes by their diligent siblings.<br />Quite a touchy article.......<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Excerpt....</span></span><br /><br /> <p class="MsoNormal">.....All through the conversation she kept being reminiscent of the times spent with her mother, how after all the difficulties her mother had still not given up on her and all her love and care. She knew that she was demanding something out of her scope of fulfillment yet she kept on telling me how she wanted to help her mother, look after her, as now she was a big girl.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">The love and respect that she had for her mother, made me feel numb. I sat there holding her hand, she did not shed a single tear yet I was on the verge of doing so. I was choked with emotions. The responsibility that this little girl felt for her parents was not anything I see in my daily life, among the so called metropolitan dwellers, who have forgotten to even respect their parents. This girl was keen to even move out of the orphanage and make a living by herself and begin a search for her lost mother.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">The people at the orphanage tell her that her mother died of illness, yet the little girl tells me that somewhere deep within she hears a voice calling out to her for help, she knows that it is time for repayment of all that her mother had done for her, although she may never be able to return what mothers do for their children yet she insists on doing her karma as the only child of her parents. I was as still as a stone throughout the conversation, from start to finish I kept holding her very tightly, and kept wondering if there was anything I could do for the innocent little soul.......</p><br /><p class="MsoNormal">Akkta Panwar<br /></p>III yr ECE.<br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">To read the full article read Ninad--The Conch Blow of JECRC(2007 Edition). Do comment on this post to appreciate the effort of the writer.</span><br /></p>Neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12170419608911499403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4508353160599660314.post-78623807898113394312008-02-11T01:41:00.000+05:302008-02-11T02:50:16.321+05:30Ninad -- The Conch Blow of Jecrc<span style="font-size:100%;">We may have colors, but we must have the canvas to house those colors.<br />We may have tools , but we must have the job to work those tools on.<br />and<br />We may have words, but we must have the notebook to write those.<br /><br />Yes my dear friends......</span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);font-size:100%;" >Ninad -- The Conch Blow of JECRC</span> <span style="font-size:100%;">provides all these and many other things to express every student of it so that he can express whatever he wants and in whichever manner he wants.<br />The annual Magazine allows an artistic glimpse of the year to which it is dedicated to. It allows a espy of what all the students did and how they performed.<br /><br />It provides a platform to showcase the literary talent latent in the engineering students who are believed to be composed of formulas, circuits and computer programs only. The Magazine showcases the </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" >garden of words </span><span style="font-size:100%;">and the </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" >sea of emotions </span><span style="font-size:100%;">which flow in the minds of tech savy students.<br /><br />And here's a fully fledged digital form of the Magazine...to broadened its reach to the students. Its an electronic media to allow students and the readers of the Magazine to broadened their access to the world of words.<br /><br />This blog is </span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);font-size:100%;" >completely dedicated to magazine and to the students</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> who want to express their views and feel a dearth of opportunity when it comes to conveying there message to the college or anyone related to it.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >So my dear friends let your fingers dance on the keyboard. Let your mind horses run with lightning speed and fill this electronic page with the words of your choice...with the words of your heart......with words of your expressions!!!!!!</span>Neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12170419608911499403noreply@blogger.com2