The M-town Song

An Ode to Manipal, the rains & the freedom, through countless memories of Manipalites.
~In my humble opinion, some of the Manipal experiences are incomplete without the Summer stay~

( slideshow at page bottom)

 

 (1) Semester – I  

In  microcosm of life’s grand revel,
Nostalgia protrudes at higher level.
It skips an odd heartbeat,
It is too abstract to tweet.

 (2) Semester – II 

To comprehend, an abundance of cherishes.
Or contemplate on striations of regrets.
To redeem in throes of realization,
Or simply slack, in a mediocre retract.

 (3) Summer-I 

Through the ever changing sky, in those days.
A philosophy of life was reflected, in multiple ways.
When clouds & town-sun, be brightly a-blazed.
Most dull of souls, be then sprightly engaged.
Such times run away, too fast in few moments.
Whether bitter-sweet, but sung in a rising crescendo.
To the higher octave, it burgeons akin a Beethoven.

 

 (4) Semester-III 

Sober through remainder it spreads.
befalls & fades like a farewell rainbow.
left no more such days to stow.
Neither any tropical sun would glow,
nor many thundering storms now blow.

 (5) Semester-IV 

But it sings sometime, in an odd background score.
Fallen behind the curtains, of a new lesser decor.
shines through its silhouette, outlining the sheen of memories.
Whether bitter-sweet, but sung in a rising crescendo.
To the higher octave, it burgeons akin a Beethoven.

 (6) Summer-II  

When the younger days are slipping, now further away in ages.
& tiresomely i flipped back, to the old diary pages.
Those ripe & yellow, their smell enliven a million things.
& some of them were personal, so it silently brings.
In the microcosm of every broad-bold pattern,
Lays a melody, formed from most abstract notes.

 (7) Semester-V  

It simply skips a heartbeat –
To comprehend in abundance,
To cherish or regret,
To redeem or retract.

  (8) Semester-VI

When the sky changes its color,
When the rain pours its fervor,
When the wind sweeps, through broad-leafy trees.
& them flavors a life, nesting in a Shangri-La harmony.
It transcends across the seen & yet to be.
Whether bitter-sweet, but sung in a rising crescendo.
To the higher octave, it burgeons akin a Beethoven.

  (9) Summer-III  

Now a night sky remains, all in our sober tomorrow.
But in glory of M-town song, whether joy or sorrow.
Through countless moments,
Through priceless picturesque,
Every-new passing day, it ripens in a Technicolor.
Every-new shelving memory, it bemoans like a yearning lover.

  (10) Semester-VII  

So i will revere to the M-town song.
Let it reach to a chorus & enliven another moment.
Let it sing more to the less of us, to replete our very voids.
Let it orchestrate a niche, like an old cult ritual.
Let it flow through pages, lapse tenses in statute-spiritual.
Epitomes of this spirit, when our superfluous is hew.
The people we met & those things we did hold true.

 (11) Final Project-I

So let it give me a sight,
Let it memoir tonight,
Let it bring back delight.
Whether bitter-sweet, but sung in a divine crescendo.
Let us rhyme, sing & groove to the M-town song.

~Convocated, Graduated~

IMG-20150515-WA0000

~ Fin, Prost!~

-Vishu Mishra
July 10, 2015

~ (MIT, E&E, Batch-07′ )~

Cherish & Share this ode with every Manipalite.

~Photos courtesy : KMC-Alumni -Shuchi Kataruka | Pics Dated : June,2015 ~

~Watch the Slideshow for more pictures | Thank you for visiting|~
~Regards & God-Bless
~

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The M-town Song

The M-town Song

Emptiness

 

Emptiness

This emptiness, has devoured my sensations.
those sudden sanguine for little things.
Them lost, with anxiety for everything.
It holds me, It settles me, with dimmer lights.

I once, was a man of happenings.
Now I rock my chair with old memories-
My adrenalin when rose, with buoyance of chaos.
Now I sit, I smoke, I watch them silently.

These lights must illuminate & accentuate,
My visual blur, My shiftless eyelids.
I may, yield to a distant sound.
fade away quicker, with stir of silence.

This emptiness has devoured my sensation.
A sudden sanguine of little things.
Them lost, my anxiety of new.
I hold and settle with sober glow.

There’s a feeling that sticks bottom bellow,
I stir, I stir,I tried.
It won’t rise, collude with now.
Like twisted strings un-mended.

I once could breathe & rise with-it.
The youth of hope, that kindles & grows.
No more it flows nor stimulates,
I sit, I sit ,I realize.

-Vishu Mishra
Jan 26,2014

Emptiness

Emptiness