The AICUF Story!

Virtuality can be fun? It's been a year since we have adapted to the new normal and we are still trying to adjust to it. But it seems like we actually miss the good old days as if we are not satisfied with this new normal. Definition of a new normal is subjective but for me, it's nothing but a medium to do work that has now taken a new form. And the new form is the online or virtual mode. Before the pandemic usage of the word, “Virtual” was less compared to how much it’s used now. The Pandemic for sure has changed the world from how it was. Just like most of us, even I thought that all my fun and plans were screwed up because of virtual classes. But I was wrong. I actually had a lot of fun even during the virtual mode and I am still having. The recollection of time spent with family, friends, and on events even though virtually are golden. Staying away from family was hard but one video call would make me realize how much they value me and even a 15 minutes talk would relieve m...

India’s march towards nutrition  While a lot is talked about the growth and development of India, the mainstream focus has been on the country’s infrastructure - transport, connectivity, and public facilities - or its ease of doing business and rate of employment, and, to some extent, education, farmers’ issues and challenges in agriculture, and the like. A much-neglected topic is the health of the Indian population, and more so the health of women and children, both of whom determine the health of future generations. For decades, India is known to have high rates of malnutrition among women and children and a high maternal mortality ratio and infant mortality rate in comparison to global standards. This scenario is gradually changing though - as per the National Health Profile 2020, life expectancy in India has significantly increased from 49.7 years in 1970-75 to 69 years in 2013-17; there has been a significant decline in infant mortality between the years 2006 and 2018, from 57...

Longing I moved my hand to caress your coral cheeks, But there was a thing separating. I wanted to touch your forehead filled with lines, with these parched lips, But there was a thing separating. I often wondered, aloud too sometimes, Whether I would hear your voice again. The one that doesn't have that tinge of artificiality. The one that is, filled with your own originality. I also questioned, this too often, Whether your face will always be a bit blurred. Will I be able to see the differences in the small details of it? Will I ever be able to see that twinkle in those lazy brown eyes It gets dull, you know, with this thing separating us. -Amanah Shaikh 

  All I see are rough sketches Sometimes I still feel those traces Traces of you and me Of places, we have been When I look in the mirror All I see is a rough sketch The good and the bad The snippets of my life that I had Written happily  Water smudged the ink Where do I go from here It's getting so blurry and unclear Why hope, to only find it smashed? Why grow, to only see everything crash? Why nurture the garden when all the flowers have burned? Look ahead, it's time the pages are turned All I see are rough sketches Sometimes I'm lost in the wilderness The wilderness of my infinite thoughts Where do I go from here, I'm lost When I look in the water All I see is a blurry image Is everything that disturbed? Has happiness from my mind been curbed? What do I do from here? It looks so blurry and unclear Why love, to only find it disappear in a flash? Why doubt, to only be proven wrong with a splash? What's yours has come your way Just like these lines, it's time to...

Of life and healing Maybe I can see the butterflies fleet, A ray of hope with them; For the dull paths are blooming with blossoms now. To escape from little cocoon of facts and phobias To feel me, To heal me, I crave for touch, a sense. That leads to glory and peace A stretch of hope, of assurance From road of darkness to light, The palms of their hands over my wrist, In a blurred vision I caress the myths, Of tantrums and dusted minds To see the shallow thoughts- Stirred in a bottle. I’m the thriller, a mystery, A fictional string with a knot, Around my fingers, Playing cats cradle over life and death, Cascading red on my left hand and sheets, I’m a living nightmare ready to heal, From affliction and anguish (Now read from bottom to top) -Rachel Fernandes.