Antara TelangThe Frog-Kisser

Fabiola MonteiroThe Heartbreaker

Kadambari ShahThe Dexterous One

Prthvir Solanki The Child

Ravi Khemka Young at Heart

Rohan IchhaporiaThe Silent Assassin

Pranav Kuttaiah The Bangalorean

Nikita MitraThe Mushy One

Honi JoshiThe Power Ranger

Neerja DeodharThe Late Latif

Alefyah Potia The Peaceful One

Fawzia Khan The High-Spirited One

Sanuli ParalkarThe Witty One

Alaric MorasThe Condescending One

Abisha FernandesThe Worker Bee

Dwisha Hathi The Smiling One

Shreya MathurThe Chosen One

Deepika PadmanabhanThe Gunda

Siddharth ParambiThe Economist

Terence FernandesThe Self-Destructor

Wayne D’CruzThe Popular One

©Fabiola Monteiro

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Derrek Xavier <insert bad joke here>

Archie D’cruz was the editor of the first edition of Raga in 1984. He started his career as a newspaper journalist, rising rapidly to become one of the youngest news editors of a mainstream daily newspaper. Since then, he has edited and published numerous books and magazines, and currently runs his own custom print and web publishing studio, ‘A Type of Magic’. In an interview with Abisha Fernandes, he talks about his experience in Malhar 1984.

How did the ‘Raga’ originate? Was there any particular reason for naming it ‘Raga’?Malhar had already developed into a major inter-collegiate festival at the time, perhaps second only to Mood Indigo in terms of the number of participating colleges and visitor numbers. Having a daily “newspaper” that was fun and in keeping with the spirit of the festival, was an idea that gained early approval. The name itself was a natural fit, and I don’t recall there being much discussion about alternatives.

Where did the ideas for the articles in the first issue of the paper come from? We had a fantastic and very creative group that made up the Malhar organizing committee that year, and ideas weren’t exactly in short supply. This was the year that Puddles, the frog, also came into existence (created by the hugely talented Shubho Kundu), and there was no doubt that Puddles would figure prominently in Raga.

What were some of the problems you had to deal with, being the very first editor?Time and resources were probably the biggest challenges, though I’d hardly classify these as problems. As a group, we enjoyed challenges, and if it meant working late hours and with limited resources, it made the end result that much more satisfying. We had to use typewriters and a cyclostyle machine

(a stone-age version of a photocopier) to print hundreds of copies as computers didn’t exist back then, and having them typeset would have taken a long time.

What were the some of the events that took place at Malhar, 1984?From what I recall, there were a number of water-based games, in keeping with the season. There was also Just-A-Minute, based on the popular BBC radio show of the time, and at least one debate competition. Rajdeep Sardesai represented St Xavier’s wonderfully. Apart from that, there were art contests and several music competitions.

Malhar has grown in terms of participation – the workforce, the sponsors, etc. How different was it back then?Malhar was a prestigious event right from the get-go, and the buzz surrounding it was tremendous. And that was not just at Xavier’s… there was genuinely high student interest at

major colleges in the city. Corporate sponsorship was very important even then, and was among the first points to

be addressed. Even so, I should imagine Malhar is a far bigger and more successful festival today! I expect

the number of events and participating colleges has multiplied many times over since then.

Do you have any advice for aspiring writers?Three words: Read a lot. And three more: Get started, already. A well-crafted book is the best inspiration there is. And write as often as you can. It takes time to develop your own style, and getting into the habit of writing regularly is the fastest way to move the process along.Don’t beat yourself up when a piece isn’t quite perfect. Even the best writers have their off days, or times when they doubt themselves. It’s all part of the journey.

My name at birth: Puddleshwar Luvly Singh AhluwaliaMy loved ones call me: Puddy/ PuddzzzzzuHow many years I have lived: 4evaMy mummy-daddy name: Muddles Ahluwalia and Huddles VenkateswaramBest friend name: Sweetu Bhasin and ‘Onathan Sup MartinIn my free time, I: Rap about French fliesFave band singer: Honey SinghHopes and dreams: To have ten children and start a band What ticks me off: Inflation and rising iced- tea pricesPerfect date: Monsoon nights on lily pads Role model: Kermit Life’s biggest achievement: Kissed a princess, became a frog

The Malhar Workforce is one that is all-encompassing and caters to every person’s talent and potential. Of course, every institution has to have a structure. Here’s how ours works. First comes the Chairperson, followed by three Vice-Chairpersons – Events, Management and Conclave. Each of the departments in Malhar subsequently falls in either of these categories with an Organiser-in-Charge (OC) for each. Below the OCs are the Organisers (OGs) in a department, after which come the Volunteers. Following are the division of departments under the three categories.Events: Admin, ETC, Fine Arts, Indian Performing Arts, Literary Arts, Raga, Workshops Incorporated, World Performing Arts.Conclave: This is a standalone department. Keynotes, panel discussions and interactive sessions are organised for Day One of Malhar.Management: Assistance, Computers, Finance, Graffix, Hospitality, Logistics, Public Relations, Sales and Marketing, Security, Souvenirs, Technicals.

How Malhar WorksPuddles, The Malhar Mascot

How it all began...

Compiled By: Cynthia Lewis, Fabiola Monteriro and Deepika Padmanabhan © Deepika Padmanabhan

Like every other girl, I await my Prince Charming. So far, since all I have come across are jerks, I began to believe that my Mr.Charming fell off his horse somewhere.

But then I realised that maybe he didn’t fall off. He’s been with me all along. He took my breath away ever since I was five years old and first went to Disneyland.

No, this is not me going sappy and lovesick. He had banged into me headfirst. I fell flat on my butt

and looked up with tears in my eyes. Then I stared into the huge, charming eyes

as those cute rabbit ears flopped about. Need I say more? Bugs Bunny. He lifted me up into his arms. He treated me

with compassion. I was dazzled. I didn’t know then that he was my prince, but now, more than ten years down the line, I’ve realized it. Bugs Bunny is every girl’s dream guy. Secretly, we all want him. He is the quintessential hero with that tall, thin, statuesque physique and eyes to die for.

The dream guy is a bit of everything. Bugs Bunny has it all. Style, humour, panache, and a teeny-tiny bit of cockiness; it’s all a part of his endearing persona. Whenever he and Wile E. Coyote are in a bid to outsmart each other, who is it that you always cheer for? It’s Bugs. He is kind, funny and will never shy away from helping his friends, an example being the time he gave Elmer a hair tonic to cure his baldness and it turned out to be fertilizer. Well, at least he tries.

If you don’t see it now, you will soon. Watch him as he sticks a carrot in his mouth and says, “What’s up, Doc?” and just see how your opinion changes.

When The Sidekicks Meet

Honi Joshi

THE CARTOON PAGE

You might think that I’m crazy for even thinking that Scooby Doo and Sherlock Holmes are similar, but

I have reasons for my theory. These two crime solvers have more in common than what meets the eye.

Firstly, both of them have partners who assist them in their cases. Just as Sherlock has

Watson, Scooby has Shaggy. While Sherlock and Watson spend endless hours bantering wittily, Scooby and Shaggy use their time a

little more productively, satiating their unending appetites. Secondly, both, at times, make no sense at all. Being a dog, it

Alefyah Potia

An Uncanny Resemblance

Derrek Xavier

is pretty hard for Scooby to say anything that would make sense and Sherlock’s speech and ideologies are too complex for us lowly human beings to understand. Lastly, both of them solve crimes in a dynamic manner. It’s just as interesting to watch Scooby run around haunted mansions and outwit disguised villains as it is to watch Sherlock arrive at accurate conclusions through careful observation. Although one comes from the world of Victorian England, and the other from glorious animation, I’m sure you agree with me now. These two sleuths are far more similar than what meets the eye.

It’s an empty room, devoid of anything that could remind those two where they’re from. No traces of ogres or

sea sponges, no hints of the sea or the swampland. They make their entrances in their own unique

way. Of course, Donkey from Shrek is there first, enthusiasm seeping out of every pore of his grey equine body. He enters the room and talks to himself

incessantly, while pacing around the room. “Starfish are so unpunctual! Why would he come so late? Maybe he didn’t want to come. Maybe he just isn’t here yet. Stop talking, Donkey!”

Patrick Star from Spongebob Squarepants makes his own lazy entrance, well past the fixed

meeting time. He strolls in slowly as though he were having a race with a snail and losing. He glances around the room, overlooking Donkey and his sad eyes. As Patrick is not exactly the brightest starfish in the sea, he was on his way out when Donkey called out to him. “Hey, you! Where do you think you’re going? Yo u haven’t even heard me sing yet! I’m going to sing ‘Yellow Submarine’ for you. You think you’re famous? I’m famous. I’m DONKEY! What are you? A pink starfish who wears the same boxers all the time?”

Patrick turned around slowly and said, “Oh, there you are. Well, at least I have boxers. And I don’t live in a yellow submarine.”

Their meeting continued like this. Donkey was talking most of the time, and Patrick didn’t even pretend to pay attention. Donkey did give an incredible performance of ‘Yellow Submarine’ though. Patrick responded with a “K.” Everybody hates the Ks. Two completely different creatures, Patrick, who is lazy, dense minded and ignorant (to be fair, he does live under a rock) and Donkey who is loud, annoying and talkative – needless to say, they didn’t exactly gel. Dragon doesn’t have to worry much about Donkey’s infidelity now. Maybe opposites don’t always attract.

© Kadambari Shah

The Ideal Guy

Fashion is much more of a science than we perceive it to be. It isn’t just the clothes we wear or don’t wear, but the way we wear the clothes we wear and, well, don’t wear. The social hazards of being caught in Crocs are far more than the number of Ws in the previous sentence, and the aftermath even worse. Now, every once in a while, when you see

someone wearing something, you – even if you choose not to accept it – judge him (or her. We must be politically correct. Always). If he’s wearing an ironed shirt with a clean tie and shiny shoes, we’re all pretty sure he shows his answer papers to mommy. But if he’s wearing a dirty jacket covered with moths from last Christmas, he is likely to enjoy biding his time in the first cubicle of the men’s loo. Similarly, whether or not the top button of a shirt is undone or not also has its own social implications.Usually when one sees a boy all buttoned up, you assume he’s

Prthvir Solanki

in college to study, the fool that he is. College is supposed to be about fun and friends and food, but this boy, with his strategically

buttoned-up shirt, is raising his hand to answer the teacher’s question. On the other hand, the boy who

displays his chest hair like his trophy cabinet is the one you look up to. He’s cool, he’s awesome and he can wear shades indoors without being tut-tutted. He’s the guy you want to be with.

You can go on with your life, pretending that what you wear won’t have any implications at all. But sooner or later, denial catches up with everyone. The implications of a shirt button go beyond your

little circle of life. It determines whether or not you get the job you’re on going to interview for, if you’re

going to score with the girl of your dreams or not, and most importantly, whether or not you find your place and

purpose in society (or so we fashion police believe). Poor button, so much pressure for such a tiny little thing.

The Social Implications of the Top Button

The Fashion Page

A HEEL TO STABI can’t believe she lost me after having such a merry time. It’s

really beyond me why she would forget her designer shoes under a chair before running out to collect her Oscar for Best Actress.

The ceremony was nice and grand, even though the host was forgetting all her lines and glaring at the

teleprompter in the same way Lady Diana would have if she had met Camilla. Her

shoes were a complete snob and didn’t even say hello.Although to be fair, I’m not surprised she misplaced me.

The corns I gave her were the size of my model’s brains (that airhead called me open-toes. I’m a pump, for God’s sake. Maybe

that’s why the host’s shoes didn’t greet me. I’m not a proper pump, apparently. But at least I don’t like I’ve been dipped in Suri Cruise’s glitter case. Anyway, I digress.) The moment she opened her lips, which are as thick as my soles, she said, “Oh my God, these shoes are killing me!” And then I gave her heels the bashing they deserved. I suppose she likes her ‘comfy’ flip-flops more. Even though I’m the pair she’ll wear to show the world she doesn’t care about her husband’s affair. The moment somebody asks her to discuss Mother Teresa’s legacy, I’ll become the distant relative she’s embarrassed of. But in the end, I’ll always be the one she’ll coo over secretly.

I can see her coming towards me now. She’s draped over her hapless bodyguard and she’s clutching a champagne bottle. Champagne will stain me. I better run. She’ll find me when she needs to pose for Vogue, anyway.

THE HALF-NAKED FAKIRThe question “What should I wear today?” has plagued us all

ever since we interposed a bunch of leaves between our intimate selves and the outside world. The considerations have been, well, considerate – protection from nasty weather, signalling of social status or the desire to be different – and yet, fashion with regard to clothes has been relegated to the women’s magazines and the chatter of weddings and soires.

However, ninety years ago, for a brief moment of glory, clothing was untethered from its confines and placed at the centre of a revolutionary struggle, and dubbed by Winston Churchill as the ‘half-naked fakir’, better known to us as Mahatma Gandhi.

The Mahatma realized that Swaraj or ‘self-rule’ could not be realized till a large number of Indians – rich and poor, young and old, rural and urban, Hindu and Muslim – were seen by the British as a part of the freedom movement. Since everyone wore clothes, it was perfect as a vehicle for easy participation, as well as a uniting symbol in the struggle for freedom. Using khadi, a hand spun and hand woven cotton cloth as his fashion recommendation, he exhorted, “Place khadi in my hands and I shall place Swaraj in yours.”

Swaraj was finally won in 1947 and the Mahatma passed away a year later. Today, more than sixty years after his death, khadi is far from being the everyday dress of all Indians as he may have hoped. Yet, like all successful fashion trends of the past, it has come to symbolize an entire generation, and has given its designer a truly iconic status.

Ravi Khemka

©Fabiola Monteiro

Shreya Mathur

© Deepika Padmanabhan

We’ve all heard of parallel universes. Right now, in a parallel universe, people are being eaten by food; dogs are walking us, and ‘Mission: Impossible’ has Salman Khan in it. Mission: To not let the Magical Heart Aviators get into the wrong hands.

The movie starts with Salman questioning a suspect in Kiev. He’s wearing a khaki cop uniform (though he’s a spy), and is repeatedly hitting the suspect, who finally gives in. The ‘Hud Hud Dabangg’ song starts playing. The movie continues to the party at the Embassy, where Salman sees someone coming down through the elevator. He climbs into the shaft, whips off his shirt and holds up the elevator, Atlas style. He escapes safely but everyone on Salman’s team dies! Cut to the scene where he meets the IMF officer who accuses Salman of being a mole. “Par ek baar maine commitment kar lee, toh mein khud ki bhi nahi sunta,” Salman tells him. Looking to escape, he blows the place up. Sallu then breaks into the CIA, distracting all the agents with Malaika Arora dancing to ‘Munni Badnam Hui’, whilst flying in without any machinery (laws of physics don’t apply to him). He goes into the temperature controlled room and steals the elusive Magical Aviators. But Salman soon gets to know that a member from his ‘dead’ team (Jim) is the mole. They end up on a train roof desperately fighting for their lives. Salman stands on the moving train as his shirt starts shredding itself. He launches himself at Jim but Jim latches

onto a helicopter that his ally brought for him. Salman uses his super-strength and roundhouse kicks the helicopter. It

explodes. He’s proved himself innocent. He got the Magical Aviators. Salman Khan prevails.

Mission: Accomplished. In a parallel universe, of course.

-Fawzia Khan

1. Cast Salman Khan or Aamir Khan in it.2. Make sure that the film has no story.3. Add a few unrealistic fight sequences and car chases. 4. Add an item number (preferably in a regional language).5. Make sure the audience leaves the cinema hall so confused

they come back for the sequel.

SHORTCUT TO BOLLYWOOD SUCCESS

Derrek Xavier

You’ve loved to hate us, laughed at our downfall and shuddered as we narrow our eyes at the camera ready to hatch yet another evil plan. You know, you can cry after your heroes, those worthless beings, but at the end of the day? Looking into a mirror all you see is us. The dark side. The scar in the place of a smile. You’ve hated us since you were a kid. Remember the hyenas in Lion King? You don’t know them personally like I do. They’re so chilled out, having parties in that elephant graveyard, though they’re not much for conversation. But then you grew out of that Lion King phase and watched The Wizard of Oz. The Wicked Witch of the West didn’t let you sleep at night, but really, she’s a silly old lady who’s crazy about red Jimmy Choos. Then suddenly you started noticing girls. The pretty girl from Species is all you wanted for Christmas, but

aliens? Nah, you hated. Marvel and DC Comics had given birth to the best of us.

Green Goblin, Doc Oc, Penguin, Poison Ivy, Lex Luthor. Those large tentacles loom in your head when you think of us and how dastardly evil we are and how we will take over the world someday. Ah, fun. In the Anti-Heroes club, Two-Face is a regular. Half and half of a face and the twang of a coin is heard. Freaky. But really, he’s a boss.

Then came the Lord of The Rings phase, yeah? Sauron as the Great Eye. Once, he had conjunctivitis. It was funny.

Now you’re asking who I am. Sheesh. I knew I had to keep the best for the last.

Hello, I’m Mojo Jojo. Good day to you too.

DIAL V FOR VILLAIN

-Nikita Mitra

Goodbye ethan, Hello Salman!

There are many theories flying around Gotham city as to the identity of the Batman. I am here to tell you that, through my very intense investigations and detective-ness, I know who the Batman is. I have the answer for you. But first, let us examine the clues.

1: He is really rich. To have all those gadgets? Come on. He has to be a gazzoollionaire at least.

2: He has to be in really, really good shape. He beats criminals to a pulp. ’Nuff said.

3: He has to have troubled past to wear a costume as silly as that. What kind of troubled past? I don’t know. Maybe he saw his parents’ murders or something?

Now going on just these three minimalist clues, we can ascertain the identity of the Batman. You still don’t have it? Well then allow me to lift the curtain. *Drumroll* The Batman is... Channing Tatum! Look at the facts, he’s rich from all those movies, he’s in really good shape and finally he has a troubled past. I mean you don’t do two ‘Step Up’ movies unless you have some really deep issues.

So there you have it. It was a long time coming. And I hope that this has taken all the suspicion off that Bruce Wayne guy. He totally isn’t Batman at all. Where would you even get such a silly idea? Pshhh.

-Bruce Wayne-A Concerned Gothamite

I KNOW WHO THE BATMAN IS

©Terence Fernandes

The Film Page

The Red LungiThat day! I can never forget that day. It was the day that I saw

a Red Lungi and the fisherman in it. It was a sweaty Thursday afternoon and I was stepping off the train, onto the platform at Vikhroli station. That’s when I saw it. It was swishing slowly as the fisherman wearing it bent down, picked up baskets of fish and placed them on the ground. The colour of that lungi captivated me. It was a deep red — the colour of love, the colour of paan, the colour of passion. It was made of coarse cotton cloth and had salt-water stains all over it, but these stains didn’t detract me from the beauty of the lungi. I think I was in love, and with a lungi. I heard the fisherman call out to his fellow fishermen “Challa challa train aa gayi. Macchli uthao!” Almost as quickly as I’d seen that divine Red Lungi, the fisherman hopped onto the train and the train whizzed away. Needless to say, I dreamt of the lungi that night. The next day too, as I alighted from the train, I saw the spectacular Red Lungi. This time, the fisherman stuck around, giving me a chance to admire the lungi for a longer time. It was dirtier, more worn for wear, but it was still beautiful. But the romance between me and the Red Lungi didn’t last for very long. The weekend passed painfully slowly as I missed RL and when I stepped off the train on Monday, my lungi was nowhere to be found. Even in the days that followed, the fisherman in that lungi never came to the station. Till today, I am nursing the pieces of my heart, which is shattered because I lost my one true love. My Red Lungi.

Fawzia Khan

Hello mortal ladies, I am Baburao Vampirelal. I’m one hundred and ten years old, but still young at heart. I’m tired of roaming the streets alone at night, and I want someone who is willing to spend the rest of their life with me. Being my wife isn’t an easy task. First of all, you must abstain from garlic. Besides the fact that garlic is potentially fatal to vampires, it also smells horrible. We cannot share the same coffin when we sleep. If I ever see you reading or watching ‘Twilight’, you will be dead before sunrise. I eat vampires like the Cullen family for dinner. In fifty years, when you’re dead and I’m still young, I’ll probably remarry. You will be one of many. I might eat your parents if I don’t like them. I like to be fed every once in a while, especially when the food is hot-blooded.

Being a Manchester United fan will further your cause. To all the werewolves out there, don’t even bother replying to this. I don’t like hairy individuals. My hobbies include flying around, sucking

blood, playing videogames and watching reruns of ‘Desperate Housewives’. Being my bride means you get to see me prey on innocent people and turn into a bat. I’ll fly around, and no, I won’t allow you to ride ‘double

seat’ with me. Hurry up, this offer is only valid for a short period of time. I hope to

hear from you ladies soon. Ciao.

MaTRiMoniaL ad

The Red Page

Derrek Xavier

My alarm goes off precisely at 7 a.m. I grunt in displeasure and cover my head with Cuddles, who is my soft toy and confidante. Rubbing my eyes open, I look for my slippers. But something else catches my attention. It’s my feet. THEY’RE RED.

I stare at them in disbelief. Fearing the worst, I look at my hands. They’re red too! Panicking inside, I slowly walk to the mirror. It confirms my fear — I’m completely red.

Consoling myself, I said that the colour will wash off with soap. It’s just a sick prank played by Cuddles. I took a bath but to no avail. I was red for good.

I couldn’t take a rain-check on work today. Covering myself as well as I could, I tried to hail an auto rickshaw. Finally, one agreed. I thought that the driver didn’t notice, but while I was getting off, he said, “Madam, aapke mathe par kisi ne thooka kya?”

Whispering profanities under my scarf, I entered the local train station which was as busy as usual. I felt at ease there. However, an old lady standing next to me offered me a word of advice. “Beta, I know you’re a servant of God but why should you smear so much of the tika rang on your forehead?”

I finally found a place to sit on the train, but my luck didn’t last very long. The wind blew both my bandanas away, showing off my red face. First gasps, and then giggles filled the compartment. One girl asked me, “Like, why are you so red?” And better yet, a bunch of bhajan-singing women, who thought I was an incarnation of Hanuman, wondered if I had a tail.

I took another train and headed back to my station. By this time, I was sick of everything. I didn’t even care if I lost my job; I just wanted to go home. Closing my eyes under my blanket, I told myself everything would be okay.

The next morning as I reached out for my phone, through the slits of my eyes I could see something blue. My hand. This could not be happening to me.

This CannoT Be happening To Me!

Nikita Mitra

My naMe is RedI’m not just a jolly old man who works once a year. I have some

other personalities:- Santa Claus, The Philanthropist: I’m famously generous to

charities, no quid pro quo. Milk and cookies are exemptions.- Santa Claus, The Accountant: I smile benignly as the figures

in red multiply in the profit and loss accounts. Or in my terms, naughty and nice.

- Santa Claus, The Communist: I wear a red suit. Lenin had a beard, Marx had a beard, Castro has a beard. Rudolph is a Russian name. Coincidence?

- Santa Claus, The Capitalist: The face of Coca-Cola. Enough said.

Kadambari Shah © Kadambari Shah

Cooking isn’t really my forte. I’ve given Goldilocks food poisoning and the three little pigs would rather go to the Wolf’s for dinner instead of my place. At the end of dinner parties, I would walk out in a huff, as everyone spoke about how badly I cook. Angry, I would sit and gobble down curds and whey. If you haven’t figured out who I am yet, it’s probably because of that plum pudding you just tried. People say it should come with a statutory warning on it.

One day, I was in a deserted garden, way past my bedtime. Angrily, I was eating my usual comfort food of curds and whey. Suddenly, a branch creaked over me, leaving me startled. Looking up, I saw nothing. I went back to eating, but something hairy touched my arm. And it was moving. It was The Spider. Sick of me not replying to his love letters (he used the Web), he actually had the audacity to come and sit next to me. I ran home. I wanted revenge. The hairy fool was new

in town, and no one spoke to him. I sent him a letter. Not a reply, but

an invitation to a dinner party. It would be the grandest dinner party I’d ever thrown. I called

Little Red Riding Hood to help me with my dishes and picked stale mulberries from

the mulberry bush. Christmas pies were stolen from Jack Horner’s place and Gretel came over with her husband’s horrible pumpkins (remember, Peter Peter pumpkin eater?) With sugar and spice, I was planning to give the Spider the biggest shock of his life.

He came over, in a bow tie and the works.. Over drinks we chatted, his eight eyes peered lovingly into mine. It was soon dinnertime, and he took his first few bites. He cringed in pain and I tried to hide my smirks. For dessert, I had made a grand blackcurrant pudding. A huge spider-in-the-box popped out of the pudding, giving Spidey a heart attack. He crawled away in all eight, screaming, never to return again. Now stop thinking of me as a weak, innocent girl you read about in some nursery rhyme. I’m not afraid to get some dirt under my fingernails, just like you shouldn’t be afraid to try some of my cooking. Want some pie?

I don’t mean to sound whiny and ungrateful here, but do you realize how you take me for granted? I am present in almost every dish that you cook, including the sweet ones. I understand that you need me in moderation but is there a need to pinch me so very much? How would you like it if you were dragged by your hair or your shins and transported from place to place? Not so great, right?

Let’s face it. I did get my time in the spotlight when the great Gandhi marched a whole 200 miles for me and your rights of my acquisition. However, I think I deserve a little more credit. It’s about small things, like when someone is sharing a recipe and they say, “...and just sprinkle in a bit of salt, obviously.” What is so obvious about that? Can you please try to talk a little more politely about me and my fellow salt compatriots?

Although people with heart and pressure problems or kidney issues are supposed to steer clear of me the fact that I am one of the major reasons why you taste and digest your food the way you do goes pretty much unnoticed. So, the next time you undervalue anything- be it salt, pepper, sugar or any of my other friends, just step back and think for a minute. Because honestly, where would you be without us?

The Food PageSalt And How It Feels

Alefyah Potia

Along Came The Spider

Nikita Mitra

1) Somebody eats out of it and you can’t do anything. 2) Somebody bumps into you and you drop it. Five second rule isn’t enough to convince you to eat that stuff anymore. 3) You see the enticing boards of cripsy chiken and chaines bhel and feel like you should’ve eaten that instead. 4) You walk into a flash mob. 5) A raccoon shows up and steals your food (not so probable, but still likely). Special scenario: In case it’s milkshake that you’re carrying, you can be sure that it will bring all the boys to the yard.

Hazards Of Walking With A Plate Full Of Food

Derrek Xavier

They lied to us. Yes, all of us. Since time immemorial, we have seen Jerry’s extraordinary attraction for cheese. But, a recent study suggests otherwise,

claiming that chocolate holds a greater attraction for rodents than cheese does. This shatters all the beliefs we grew up with, leaving

nothing but cheesy, meaningless dust. I couldn’t let my beliefs just fall apart. I needed proof. I wanted the truth from the horse’s mouth, well in this case, the rat’s mouth.

As I set out on my quest for truth, I sought the help of an anonymous classmate who I shall refer to as ‘The Rat’ on account of my deep affection for her and her rat-like qualities. On asking, she said that she too preferred chocolate. Then, she enlightened me on how chocolate was chosen over cheese. She said that since it was sweet and held a strong smell, it was like a siren calling for attention. Cheese however, was more subtle. And thus, less appetizing. This was it. All that love for Jerry and all he was, was behind my chocolate. Now, I am going to go and watch reruns of Tom and Jerry, sitting with a box of tissues, mourning the loss of the truth.

Cheese v/s Chocolate

Honi Joshi©Wayne D’Cruz

TAKE A STEP - CROSSWORD ON TRANSPORT IN MUMBAI

CARTOON-O-SCOPES

Nikita Mitra

ACROSS:1. Think cabs. And a Wiz Khalifa song. 2. The little device that makes a two-seater a

three-seater. It’s also an elegant cocktail. 5. Think cabs again. And a term actively used

to purchase lengths of any material.6. This area provides a great view while on

a boat or ship. Also used widely in the card playing industry.7. The first type of iPod ever made. 8. The most prestigious place to be on a

train or plane. 9. A great tourist attraction. Not quite the

same as the ones in Central Park, but popular nonetheless.10. Dabbawallas, milkmen and the newspaper

deliverers depend on these.

Answers: (Across)1 - BlackAndYellow, 2 - Sidecar, 5 - Meter, 6 - Deck, 7 - Nano, 8 - FirstClass, 9 - HorseCarriages, 10 - Cycles. (Down) 1 - BEST, 3 - Auto, 4 - BodyOdour, 8 - Ferry.

Alefyah Potia

© Kadambari Shah

7. Libra: Astérix! Balanced, hardworking, the ideal son/daughter. You’re loyal, and make friends easily. Remember Obélix?

8. Scorpio: Dexter! Not the evil-hunting, handsome serial killer, but the small, lab-loving, Deedee-hating Boy Einstein that we grew up with. You’re very intriguing, and not all of you are 4 feet tall.

9. Saggitarius: Tweety Bird! Your star sign is the manliest, with six-packs and biceps , but, you’re most like Tweety. You’re fun, happy, loving but you’re scared of puddytats.

10. Capricorn: Spongebob Squarepants! You’re hardworking when you make Krabby patties, and crazy when you’re with Patrick.

11. Aquarius: Show those muscles, Johnny Bravo! You’re trusting, which leads you to getting your back stabbed every once in a while.

12. Pisces: Yogi Bear! Fishy people. You’re always fishing for compliments, or in Yogi Bear’s case - food. You are fun, adventurous and ready to try new things.

1. Aries: Bubbles! Yes, boys. You’re like Bubbles too. You’re strong on the outside, but a tiny, bubblegum-like person inside.

2. Taurus: Stewie Griffin! Stop smirking because you got Stewie. I could have put anyone there, but, I didn’t. Taureans are cool, smart and funny. Perhaps.

3. Gemini: Pi-pika-Pikachu! Despite being slightly moody, you are very powerful and influential, and can get your way quite easily.

4. Cancer: Tinker Bell! Cancerians are known to be indecisive, moody, and serious. Oh, and jealous too. Ring a bell, Peter Pan?

5. Leo: YABBA DABBA DOO! Fred Flintstone. Leos are good looking, strong, and always roaring. However, they also have an emotional side. Now I know why Fred Flintstone is Velma’s man!

6. Virgo: The Pink Panther! Feminine, quiet and smart. Ta ding, ta ding, tadingtadingtdingtinanin. You’re rather relaxed like a panther, and you’re pink.

DOWN:1. The modest name of a bus service.3. Beyond Worli, you flail your arms in the

middle of the road to hail this.4. One thing we hope to avoid on crowded

trains and buses, but it inevitably follows us wherever we go. 8. Alibaug says it all.