HUMANS OF RML: MR. AKSHAT GUPTA

As long as I am here, I’ll stay among the people, laugh with them, and be available whenever someone needs me," says Akshat Bhaiya, the unofficial MVP of RMLNLU. From juggling Diet Cokes to dodging Kinder Joy requests, he’s the guy who somehow knows everything happening on campus before it even happens. Lost your stuff? Forgot your lunch? Bhaiya’s got you. From insights to stories, he has a lot to share with us. Hear it straight from Akshat Bhaiya- full interview in the link in bio

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How’s she supposed to be yours?

Quiet in its arrival, inevitable in its hold, a love that doesn't declare itself but simply becomes, settling into the spaces once left untouched. In "How's She supposed To Be Yours?", Devangi Jaiswal traces love as slow belonging, capturing the undoing of past selves and a gentle transformation from solitude to a shared rhythm. The poem dwells in a self that does not disappear, but steadies, heals and finds its rhythm alongside another. Memories do not disappear, but learn how to rest. Pain does not vanish, but loosens its grip. Here love is neither abrupt nor consuming, it is patient, tender and irrevocably human, quietly insisting on its presence, teaching how to rest. A thoughtful exploration of love as a refuge and renewal. Read through the link in the bio.

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In the Shadow of Its Beat

Thrumming, steady, constant. The beating heart that inheres to the human condition: the very pulse of existence showcased beautifully in every facet of the poem "In the Shadow of Its Beat" by Khushi Jain. Where the paradox of the heart's dual nature is revealed, where emotion is juxtaposed against stability. Steady and unfailing yet unfaithful, the poet ponders the essence of something so akin to life, of something that belongs so completely, feeling so foreign to herself. A beautiful piece about matters of the heart, both literal and figurative, written with just as much heart as its very subject matter. Access through the link in bio.

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ECHOES OF YOU: WHERE THE MUSIC HOLDS ME

Some poems feel like confessions whispered into the night, and “Echoes of You: Where the Music Holds Me” by Aaransha Shankar is one of them, a piece where yearning softens the darkness and memory becomes its own kind of light. The poem drifts through the quiet hours, where songs revive the moments once lived, the shared laughter, the library corners and the comfort of someone who felt like home. Music becomes the thread tying past to present, stitching the slow ache carried between moonbeams and familiar melodies. This one's a gentle exploration of how love lingers even when presence doesn’t, how a single tune can hold an entire history. Step into this world of memories intertwined with music. Access through the link in bio.

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IN CONVERSATION WITH Dr. SAMREEN HUSSAIN

There are some stories that spark a sense of relatability and aspiration all at once, this is one of them. In conversation with Dr. Samreen Hussain where she talks of her early student life, her fascination with law, her journey at RML, the growth of her aspirations, her initial foray into family law, and much more. The Lohiyan Post brings you an exclusive interview with the family law faculty you know and love.

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THE CITY THAT ONLY EXISTS IN MY DREAMS

Some cities are carved in stone, while others in memory; but in “The City That Only Exists in My Dreams” by Aaransha Shankar, it’s a will-o’-wisp you run after to catch. Here, time and science lose their direction, as dreams lure you into comfort every night, dissipating into the air as the dawn breaks. The poet paints escapism as stepping into a realm where limits fall away, and the self feels infinite. This dreamscape is a mirror asking us to reflect: is belongingness in the waking world bound by its limits, or in the eternal city within our sleep? The fresh perspective on the fine line between the realm of dreams and reality is intriguing, worth reflecting upon. Step inside and see where this soulful piece might take you. Read the poem through the link in bio.

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HOME IS WHERE MY STORY BEGINS

Home is often described as a place, but in "Home is Where My Story Begins" by Khushi Jain, it becomes something much harder to define. Here, home lives in gestures: in a father's guiding voice, in a mother's quiet flame, in the laughter that refuses to fade even as time keeps moving forward. This piece moves with a quiet persistence through memory, love, and loss, drawing a portrait of home as both a sanctuary and a longing. It asks us to consider what makes a house transform into a heart-space: is it the walls, or the laughter echoing within them? Is it permanence, or simply the people who wait at every gate? It's a poem that insists that no matter how far you travel, the story of who you are will always trace its way back to where it began. Read the full poem through the link in the bio.

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A First Year’s Handbook to RML

A vibrant welcome guide for first-year students at RML, curated by The Journal Committee. From decoding college culture to navigating academics, it’s your go-to starter pack. Designed to inform, delight, and help you hit the ground running at RML.

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When I Grow Up

"When I grow up, I want to be free..."—a sentiment most of us have whispered at some point, only to find that freedom feels different once it's finally ours. In this hauntingly tender poem, Nishant Tripathi captures the quiet tragedy of adulthood: the realisation that what once felt like a cage was actually safety, that the rebellion we romanticised now pales in comparison to the warmth of fleeting routines and fading parents. "When I Grow Up" is a poem that captures the soft grief of becoming. A soft ache for what’s gone, a longing for what cannot return, and a question we’ve all asked too late: What did freedom really cost me? Read the full piece through the link in bio.

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One Flew where Wisdom rests

Professor Aditya Pratap Singh was many things: a teacher, a thinker, a linguist, an existentialist, but above all, he was deeply, resolutely himself. In this deeply personal tribute, Ravi Shankar Pandey remembers him more than as a former HOD or scholar, but as a rare mind who taught by living his philosophy, one that could traverse topics from John Locke to Sahir Ludhianvi, and from education policy to mysticism. A red Creta, stories, reflections, and a belief in learning from life. The piece reflects on the ways Prof. A. P. Singh shaped intellects and inspired introspection. Read the full story through the link in bio.

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The Show that gave me Sentience: Bojack Horseman.

"Back in the 90s, I was in a very famous TV show..." "The Show That Gave Me Sentience" might seem like a bold claim, but anyone who’s watched Bojack Horseman knows it’s not an exaggeration. Beneath the veneer of vibrant animation and talking animals lies a story that isn’t afraid to dig deep, to expose the uncomfortable truths about fame, failure, addiction, and the desperate, often misguided, search for happiness. Sukaina Naqvi takes us through the brilliance of Hollywood’s most washed-up sitcom star and explores how a cartoon horse and his equally chaotic companions manage to hold up a mirror to our deepest fears, flaws, and fleeting moments of hope. Bojack Horseman is the kind of show that sticks with you, for better or for worse.

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MIDORI

Some places exist only in memory, others only in dreams. This painting walks the fine line between the two: a house that feels like home even if you've never been there, a tree that looks like it’s been watching over the land for centuries. Created through layers of patience, this piece holds a quiet kind of magic. It makes you wonder: who lives in that house? Do they sit on the porch in the evenings, listening to the rustling leaves? Do they follow the winding path, barefoot and unhurried, knowing exactly where it leads? Or is it abandoned, left only for the wind and time to keep company? Step into the world of "Midori" by Bhavya Pandey and let the story unfold in your mind.

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Oh, how I crumble for you

Love, jagged and unrelenting, often feels like the most twisted curse of them all. Yet the narrator yearns for it to linger just a little longer. Even as her grip around his throat tightens, he wants her to stay. The tie she once fixed with such tenderness now tightens around his neck. And as she sheds his tears for him, something inside him slowly crumbles. In his most vulnerable confession, the narrator wishes he could say it was all a lie—anything to ease the pain, to make her leave with less of a wound. But the truth is never that easy. He surrenders to memories of a happier time, of moments when they promised never to part, as he prepares to ask her one final question. What question does he ask her? Discover the answer in the poem "Oh, how I crumble for you" by Ujjwal Gupta, inspired by Arctic Monkeys' 505.

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Flame of the Forest

To water a garden of flaming flowers seems like an exercise in absurdism. Yet, the narrator appears to find a strange joy in this paradoxical task. He finds his skin scorched and singed, but he persists nevertheless because at least it gives him the warmth he craves. Many of us have felt the captivating allure of a self-destructive pursuit—be it a fruitless endeavour or a wretched romantic rendezvous. And some of us continue to water those flaming flowers, hoping to quench their thirst, playing the gullible gardener, knowing full well that we're likely to go up in flames ourselves. The poem begs the question: What is it about our nature that compels us to tend to flames, even at the risk of our own undoing? Inspired by the sacred flower it is named after, "Flame of the Forest" by Ujjwal Gupta is a blazing allegory of yearning and ruin.

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HUMANS OF RML: MS. REETA ARORA

Meet Ms. Reeta Arora—you know her; you pass by her countless times at the main gate, but you don't know her story. For six years, she’s been a part of this family, and in this interview, she shares her experiences, the heartwarming relationships she’s built with students, and so much more. From navigating long workdays to the small gestures of kindness that brighten her day, her story is one of strength and resilience. Read the full interview and get to know the person behind the friendly face.

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