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"Passport Chronicles" is a poem narrated from the perspective of a passport frustrated by its owner's unrealistic travel dreams and clumsy behavior. Through humorous anecdotes, the passport reflects on missed adventures and chaotic airport moments.

-Mahek Trivedi

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through fluctuating tides and mercurial highs, it has been a walk of shame.

it is as if your presence has been plastered on my forehead,

when they see me, your seal of glory will never be missed.

all i was, all i am, all i will be, is a tributary of your name.

i grasped at any nook, at any cranny, that would allow me a momentary exhale,

i inspected beyond your hunted grounds, but turns out you haunt every alley.

a passport stamped with miseries, i have searched the world for a place to sleep,

my soul lets out a desperate plea, when will you leave me be?

-nick

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This version of "trek" plays on the idea that journeys are not just external but internal, and how even places we don't physically reach can leave an imprint on our inner landscape. It mixes in abstract thoughts about time, space, and identity, exploring the idea that what we don’t achieve can impact us just as much as what we do.

-Mahek Trivedi

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''Why do we do this every year?!''. Andromeda huffed out in execution. ''To pay respect to all the people who lost their lives here. I thought you would like that. You are, afterall, an adrenaline junkie''. Maya answered with a hint of tease in her voice. ''Right. I should stop whining and get my act together''. Andromeda straightened her back and deternmination to complete their yearly trek filled her eyes. ''Okay lets do this''. ''I thought you would have build more resistence for this trek by now. We do this at the start of summer every year for the last 5 years''. Luna asked half, out of curiosity and the other half, to make conversation. '' I thought I would too but god this is excrutiating. How much longer till we reach the top?". '' 10 more minutes''. Maya answered back. Following her reply 2 groans of frustration were heard behind her. She chuckled and continued walking the path. 10 minutes later they were finally there. '' lets put the floweres''. Andy said as she pulled out the small bouquet of floweres and rested on a rock. She brought her hand together and prayed for everyone who had lost their lives on this trek because of lousy safety measures. ''Come on guys. Put your floweres down and say your prayers.'' Andromeda beckoned toward Maya and Luna. ''Andy. Did you stop taking your meds?''. Luna inquired. ''Yeah. They were messing with my perseption of things around me. Why? ''. '' Tke you meds Andy. How long are you goning to to keep holding on to the memory of the tragedy''. Maya said, in a concerned voice and a sad look on her face. ''What do you mean? What tragedy?'' Andromeda asked mirroring Maya's concering voice. ''Our deaths, Andy'' Luna replied. ''What?''. ''It was not just the 3 of us. It was 4 us when we first went on the trip. Me, you, Maya, and Trisha, remember. She pushed us from the edge of the cliff.'' Luna remided Andromeda of the series of event that occured. '' We are not here Andy. You have to take the meds. You are hellucinating.'' Luna pleaded. ''Wake up, Andy'' Maya said to Andy in a deep stern voice. Andy shut her eyes. 'No this is not true. My friends are here. We trek this path every years. What are they saying? What is happening?'. Andy opened her eyes again. She looked to her left. She looked to her right. No one. She had done this trek all alone by herself. No one accompanied her. She was all by herself in her mind with people who no longer walked the same land as her or breathed the same air as her.

-Nafeesa. S. Mandviwala

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The poem reflects how love, seen through "crimson lenses," transforms delightful chaos into an art form. It highlights the beauty of imperfection, turning mundane moments into extraordinary experiences.

-Mahek Trivedi

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#DIDN'T HAVE TIME TO BEAUTIFY STUFF

#I'm sorry it's long

EXOTIC FEELINGS

It began–

Like a whisper carried on the breeze,

A moment of stillness in the rush of life.

But me? I have been chasing, time itself,

Trying to fill the empty spaces

With noise and motion,

Convincing myself, I understood what lies beneath–

Beneath all that quiet,

In every fleeting pause, something shifts,

It scares me, it’s like the world tilts,

Every time I let the silence consume me.

Calm–

I’ve always run from the quiet,

Afraid of what it might awaken within me.

But now, I’m trying to stay, to linger in the stillness,

To let the silence wash over me without fear.

I’m learning to sit with my thoughts,

To let them rise without letting them rule.

It’s strange, this new kind of peace,

For a moment, life feels lighter,

Like everything has fallen gently into place.

Broke–

The world slowed, and for once, I breathed.

But peace, it’s fickle.

As the silence deepened,

My thoughts surged like a restless tide,

Crashing against the fragile walls I’d built.

I tried to breathe, to anchor myself,

But the weight of uncertainty pressed down,

Each whisper in the stillness a reminder,

Of doubts that clawed at the edges of my mind.

I felt the familiar spiral begin to form,

A chill ran down my spine followers by a voice–

The Voice–

"Can you name what it is you feel?"

(I can hear it—how is that even possible? Why? What if I don’t know the answer? What if I can’t face what’s inside? This silence feels heavy, suffocating... But isn’t that the point? What if listening could set me free? I’ve been running for so long, afraid of what lies beneath.)

Just Breathe and start.

The voice repeats,

"Can you name what it is you feel?"

At first, I laughed, shrugged it off—

Feelings are simple, right?

Joy when I laugh,

Anger when I’m wronged,

Sorrow when I lose—

What more could there be?

(It’s quiet now, but I can feel the voice smiling. I can’t see it but I can, somehow feel?..)

Soon, a tremor stirred beneath my skin!

A quiet truth I'd long ignored.

I had brushed aside like a speck of dust,

For surely, it couldn’t mean much.

Yet, it persisted,

A murmur like a shadow following,

Tugging at the edges of my thought,

Like a wall crumbling in silence.

There were feelings,

So buried, so deep,

I’d lived with them

Unseen, untouched—

Yet they shaped me all the same.

When they surfaced,

They came like a flood,

Like cracks in a dam finally giving way,

The weight of them shattering what I knew.

And in that ruin, I stood,

Awake for the first time.

Exotic, strange, and overwhelming,

These feelings had lived in me all along,

Yet only now,

I knew their names.

There was sorrow I didn’t know I carried,

Love I had been too afraid to touch,

Anguish that had quietly bled into my joy,

And hope… buried so deep, I thought it had died.

I wasn’t ready,

But there’s no turning back.

They were mine to bear,

Mine to feel.

There was no turning away, no pretending anymore.

They were a part of me, had always been.

And then, the voice from within asked again,

"What do you truly feel?"

And this time,

With shaking breath,

I whispered back:

"Everything."

-Mahek Trivedi

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11:43; diaries of a hopeless romantic.

An infinitely lasting fountain of undiluted love, trickles down from its origin, my heart. This love, my love, carves its way through daffodil meadows and formidable mountains. On its route to the faraway destination, it handpicks little souvenirs, for one must know, every exotic work of nature in every corner, reminded me of them. From pleasant sunny mornings to cloud filled evenings, love does not hesitate through the weary conditions of the unreliable world.

How can there be even a question of hesitation, when my love, is finally to reach you. You, are the destination.

-nick

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In a future where reality is malleable and timelines intertwine, a soldier dons quantum boots that redefine the very essence of existence with each step taken.

-Mahek Trivedi

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she's jawdroppingly gorgeous, but appearances deceive.

he walked into her web, a perfect weave.

she's stern, powerful, the epitome of toughness,

once value-laden, now value-less; she cures him with a caress.

she wears an effervescent cure-all smile, an antitode to his sorrow.

as she proceeds to pick him apart like petals of a rose, on the morrow.

but oh, it must ache to climb in her boots,

"trust no one, love no one"; always a battle and never a truce.

a whisperer of sweet nothings, words drenched in the pretence of affection.

then she shifts her vision to the next best attraction, was he that unworthy of your attention?

it's an honor, a prestige, to be loved by her,

she hates him, she kisses him goodnight; "these are the ups and downs relationships incur".

-nick

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"In the depths of doubt and shadows of despair, I find myself questioning the very nature of wonder."

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the familiar, yet abandoned place.

i retrace my footsteps, footsteps guided by nostalgia.

echos of faint laughter, laughter unbeknownst to a source.

a fleeting sense of time, time that is never refunded.

dust-covered chairs and tables, tables that remained unturned.

a flood of recollections, recollections of innocent tales.

an itching urge to discover, discover a piece of history untouched by present air.

-nick

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He had never felt like this.

Never in all the years he had lived had he felt like this.

Did humans even have a proper term that would describe what he was feeling right now?

Kaiza let out a controlled breath, his body both tense and tight, every sense heightened. His wide eyes stared ahead, hands clasped together in a tight hold, while his heart hammered against his chest.

Occasionally, soft breaths brushed against his hair, the rise and fall of the chest behind him in a laboured-

’Sh*t’ Kaiza squeezed his eyes shut, curling further into himself as the body behind him shifted, adjusting him into a more comfortable position suitable for him – like he was some damn overgrown teddy bear.

‘Like hell.’ He thought bitterly. The strange warmth that had been spreading through his body was replaced in favour of his growing irritation.

Kaiza scowled, about to turn and lecture the other, only to freeze mid-motion, his mouth slightly agape.

His muscles relaxed almost involuntarily as his gaze softened.

Arendt’s face looked gentler, illuminated by the glow of the forgotten TV screen. His expression was peaceful – a rare sight to see nowadays with their busy schedule.

Kaiza can’t even recall the last time he saw the other boy resting, and thus, the thought he should do something about it appeared one serene morning. ‘If only I knew.’ He sighed internally.

They hadn’t known each other for long, yet after everything they’d been through, they unintentionally jumped over the more… important steps when getting to know a stranger and just jumped straight to the finish line.

Thus, Kaiza was not surprised that they figured out their living arrangement after being forced to room together quite early on. Take that one morning, for instance:

Arendt had been making them a light breakfast while he was busy figuring out how the cursed coffee machine worked:

“Your memory can’t be this sh*t…” Arendt had quipped, watching him with mirth as Kaiza fumbled with the buttons, trying to recall what the other had told him.

Kaiza had grumbled back then, muttering insults about how stupid and useless modern techs are. “Traditional way of making coffee is better than this glorified sludge,” he snapped. saying. Arendt had only raised an eyebrow before getting into explanation number, who cares.

It became a routine of sorts: wake up, brush your teeth, change, kick Arendt out of bed due to hunger, banter over preparation and then bon appetite.

So, when one morning he found Arendt already in the kitchen, their usual banter absent, Kaiza had reasoned back then the lazy sloth was forced to attend to his duties by the head of his division. No big deal…

Kaiza only decided to act once he saw Arendt nearly face-planted into a hot pan with his breakfast, realising only then that the heavy panda eyes the guy was sprouting were not a new fashion statement. Sue him.

Getting Arendt to cancel whatever plans he had and stay at their dorm was unsurprisingly easy. Kaiza left him alone the entire day, but by six in the evening, Arendt had asked if they could watch some movie together, which brought them – him – to this predicament- !

It took Kaiza all his willpower not to spring from the onslaught of warm embrace as unconscious Arendt lost to his dreams, tightening his grip on him, bringing him closer as he shamelessly nuzzled into the top of his head with a content sigh.

Kaiza’s eyebrow twitched, his teeth grinding as his hands unforgivingly gripped Arendt’s arm – a secure hold that felt more like a python coiling around him than a friendly gesture.

But the most intrusive sensation was the strange tightening in his chest where his muscles fought over whether to tense up or relax.

With a pained expression, Kaiza let his head land on Arendt’s chest – the other boy completely oblivious to his roommate's inner turmoil that was slowly seeping through the cracks of his indifferent mask.

Not like anyone could witness this, seeing as Kit was on one of his evening walks in the halls, and the others had no reason to walk into their dorm room at this hour anyway.

So, for him to break his usual façade of aloofness, something huge and groundbreaking should be happening and yet. And yet f*cking, yet all they were doing was cuddling.

Kaiza, however, refused to believe this, being it as the concept of cuddling was to feel relaxed and not like he was about to purge out his dinner and, at the same time-

He hung his head, squeezing his eyes shut and biting his lips when he felt wetness in his eyes – the strong arms securing him closer to the warm body of his roommate.

‘Ass.’ Kaiza latched onto cursing his roommate, giving the other glare over his shoulder while Arendt softly snored, his nose twitching a little, only making Kaiza narrow his eyes further. “That dream better be worth Michelin Star breakfast.” He whispered, knowing his threat would go unanswered.

A minute passed where he just openly stared at the boy quietly sleeping, skin itching and yet…

Moving closer, Kaiza felt his eyes softening, hand reaching, and before he knew it, he felt the tips of his fingers brushing Arendt’s dark fringe merit with tips of white away from the boy's face, fingers tucking the strand behind his ears before he gently traced a line from his cheeks down to his-

“Yo.”

“Archon’s sake!” Kaiza jerked away like he’d been burned, forgetting about Arendt’s study grip around him.

Instead of toppling down and splitting his head on the coffee table like he expected to, he snapped right back, hitting his forehead against’ Arendt’s with a dull thud.

Two distinct groans echoed through the dimly lit room.

“See what I have to deal with?” Came a familiar voice, but Kaiza was too busy soothing the pain in his head with his expression scrunched in pain.

With one eye closed, Kaiza watched as Arendt shook his head with a small scowl before it melted away. Having just been awakened, Arendt tried blinking away his drowsiness, his hands falling down from Kaiza’s waist.

Ignoring the loss of the infectious warmth, Kaiza watched as his roommate slowly turned to the two perpetrators with no thought behind those bright greens.

“The hell are you two doing here.” Arendt’ asked slowly, his voice raspier than usual.

Kaiza chose to look in the same direction once he felt a, now, familiar warmth.

“I live here!” Said Kit. The black cat looks offended as much as the cat's face is capable of looking offended, using Nereo’s shoulder to appear taller. Said the boy, just blinking at them with his dead fish expression.

Looking between them with his dark eyes, Kaiza silently watched with Arendt, who seemed to be contemplating whether to kick them or fall back asleep.

After a few more seconds, Nereo finally decided to tilt his head, eyes open wide in a clear display of child-like curiosity and asked.

“Did I interrupt something?”

“NO!” Kaiza shouted, pushing himself away from his drowsy roommate. Ardent responded by leaning back from the to his raised voice by leaning away in turn.

With a scrunch-up face, Kaiza snatched the blanket that was draped over Arendt’s feet, earning a whine of protest from the boy in return.

Without saying anything, he stomped toward the one bedroom in this entire dorm, ignoring the heat creeping down his neck.

As he slammed the door behind him, Kaiza caught Nereo bidding a ‘friendly’ goodnight and Arendt’s, I paid for that blanket!

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the state of me is desolate

now, unknown to the taste of you.

flames ignite and consume me

now, at the thought of who you're home to.

our stolen glimpses across the hall

now, nothing but stolen.

with all my being, i beg for you, to be alright

so i haunt you,

infiltrate the things you love, taunt you,

go ahead, your bubble wrapped lover, flaunt her

she's me in a cursive font, blurred.

my wounds bleed of humiliation

the shards of sweetness scar,

my replaceability, her weapon

what torments more, journey or destination?

backpacks of bandages could not suffice

time must heal, no way else.

-nick

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This is a poem I wrote keeping in mind the nostalgic vibe of my "Backpack Days" and my best friends.

Those, although not the most perfect years, were the best to me.

Tehzeeb Quadri

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This is a poem that traces the journey of life through the changing contents and weight of a backpack.

By: Mahek Trivedi

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