Students Corner
Student’s Corner in Lsquare is a platform where students can express their creativity, share their artistic talents, and showcase their literary works and creative content, fostering appreciation and recognition for their artistic endeavors.
A Villanelle for Sisyphus // A Villanelle For Those Who Won’t But Should Give Up
Do you still want me?
I’m the outcome that you so dearly desire
Why would you be so naive?
Maybe you’re a dreamer, a lover, a fighter indeed
Holding on to the hope of achieving me, as I conspire.
Do you still want me?
You hold on to the desire, not realizing that you’re free
Let me not be the only thing you wish to acquire
Why would you be so naive?
Tighten your grip on reality, not the possibility of we
I may not be good for you. Providence might not let our union transpire
Do you still want me?
Do not let life pass you by, as you struggle, pestering god with your plea
For I shall drain you of all the strength you require
Why would you be so naive?
If it’s not meant to be, it’s not meant to be
From eluding your advances, I may never tire
Do you still want me?
Why would you be so naive?
– Mohammed Faaiz Dastagir
PGP 2023-25
A Taste of Perpetual Sorrow // A Spoonful of Depression
Is happiness a common resource?
A river that flows through every household?
Nourishing the one’s basking by the bank.
Allowing everyone to have their share.
Plentiful, Bountiful.
Bringing with it, vegetation.
Freshwater fishes, energy.
If it is a common resource,
and if the glaciers treat every household the same.
Why does it bend? At my end?
My canal lays barren.
A little stretch of land, a canal forged by my own hands.
Right in the middle of my modest mud hut.
Lays barren.
Cracks, dust, and seldom humid.
The state of affairs aren’t too gloomy (yet),
Every day, I lay in the middle.
Of my darned, cursed canal.
Wishing to be washed away.
Wishing for the cold, clear water,
to finally pay a visit.
For all the toil,
pain and dismay. Clog the wheels,
of this mechanized will.
A little bit of water to wet the lips.
A little bit to refill the tear ducts, for they too are barren.
A little bit to share, A little bit to protect. To preserve, to cherish.
Come in plenty, be bountiful.
Give me my share of the cake.
Flood this hut, for I deserve it.
Drown me, absolve me of this grueling wait.
Every day, I lay, in the middle.
The domain of dust, the king of stray particles.
Pay me a visit. With some water to bathe myself.
To wet this parched soul.
To clean myself, to look presentable.
For the next day,
in which I lay, waiting, yet again, for the flood that never came.
– Mohammed Faaiz Dastagir
PGP 2023-25
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