Magazine'10 11

Rishi Valley School School Magazine 2010-2011 1
S c h o o l M a g a z i n e 2 0 1 0 - 1 1
Rishi Valley School
School Magazine 2010-2011 Rishi Valley School 2
Contents
Editorial 6
What is creativity? 7
Photo Gallery... 9
ISC 2011 (Class 12) 11
ICSE 2011 (Class 10 A) 12
ICSE 2011 (Class 10 B) 13
Tagore festival 14
Sports Day - Moments of Glory 15
Life goes on in RV... 16
Middle and Senior school Excursions 18
Hi Five 20
From the teachers pen 21
SOME RANDOM THOUGHTS 22
TECHNOLOGY 23
Some Well Known and Lesser Known
Tales
24
Akbar-Birbal Story 24
Subramania Bharati 25
MLV and Me An Incredible Journey 26
The Journey begins 26
Chitrakavyam 31
Articles from yester years... 37
The morning of November 23rd, 2009 38
July Night, Hyderabad 40
Limericks 40
Epitaph of William of Occam 41
All an Illusion 42
May Murmurs, Bogmallo (Goa) 43
KABIR 43
How to operate Mr Walky Dog 44
Summer 44
Horror-work 45
USA can never replace India 46
Asthachal 47
Life 47
Darkness 48
Write Right 48
No Mercy 48
Past and Present 49
Recipe for a perfect Carnatic song 49
Senseless 50
Death? 51
Bed Timing 52
Change 53
The Scorpion 54
A ripple of fear 54
Summer 54
Aye August 55
Heartbroken 55
October Night, Kashmir 56
Goal... 56
Recipe for a Perfect teacher 57
Scurrying away to glory 57
Gold 61
Sachin Tendulkar 61
My Friend and I 62
From A Spaceship Blue 62
My Grandmother 63
Fireman 63
My Message for School Sports Day 64
Clerihew 64
Day Dreams 65
My pet 65
Why Dragons Blow Fire 66
Excerpts from My Teacher ? Aug 2010?
a topic given by Deepa in her English
class. 67
The Tunnel of Adventure 67
Haiku 68
The Great Banyan Tree 68
Tiger on the Prowl 68
Night in the Afternoon 68
Saved by the Tree 68
Beauty of Rain 68
Choco River 69
Friends! 69
A Tower Named Empire 70
Blast from the Past 70
Why? 71
The perfect place 71
Goodbye Mr Phobia 72
An Accident 73
Biography 74
Autobiography 74
My lovable brother and Me 75
The Unique One 76
Roller Skating Down the Boardwalk* 77
Riding on an Antelope 78
Computer Conflict 79
Articles from the current year... 59
I Am Sweet, Sweet, Sweet 60
The Tree of Fire 60
C O N T E N T S
Srinagar 80
A Friend Who Always has a Smile 81
The Most Kind Hearted People 81
The City of Leh-Ladakh 82
Creamy Delight 83
A Healthy Diet 84
Harry the Weary 84
Food 85
Blind 86
Pain 87
Helpless 88
The Letter 89
A Good Diet 90
A Memory 91
The Match 92
Krishna Brothers 93
Escaped 95
My Mothers Influence on Me 95
My Brother 96
A Question of Equality 97
Not Such a Perfect Day After All 98
A Tale of Two Brothers 99
Wet Fire Set Me Free 100
Free Writing 101
Money is the Root of all Evil? 102
Money is the Root Cause of all Evil 103
Flipping through a Poets
Note Book 105
Hookey 105
The Beginning of the End 108
Home Bound 109
"Boys will be Boys" 110
Farewell 112
The Library 112
Graffix Galore ... 115
Julius Caesar 116
Animal Farm 119
Live it up with Languages... 133
| | 4
|| | + | | r| || .. 4
| | -|||~||
|| | ||+ | |||
||-|| |||| ||-|| |
| | |.|| | -|
C O N T E N T S
|||-||
|-|| +| + -| -
||--|| ~| |+| ||
| | ||-|| 4
| | | -| 4
| | || 4
+| , || ||-| +| || -| ,+|-| 4
|||| |||| | 4.
|| |-||| |-|||| ~||||-| 4
+ +| ~| ~| + ||| | 44
|| | | + || | || 44
||| 4
|r - | 4
+|||| ~||| +-|| 4
+ -| 4
|-|| ... 4
+ -| 4-
~|| 4
-|| || ,-| -| 4
-| +| || | -|+|
~|||
| | -|||~||
|| | ||+ | |||
| | -|||~|| .
|| | ||+ | |||
. .. . :
. ... . .... :
- . . .. ... . . . ...... . :
.. .... :e
. :
... :
. . . :
. , :s
.. .. . :e:
... . ... ., :e
. . , :e
.. ... ::
.,.. ... ~.... :
. .. c :+
.. ... :s+
... . . . ... . . :s:
. . . :s:
. _ . . .... . :s-
. . ., . , .. :s
. .... ...... :se
. . .. :se
.. :s
. c. . . .. ... :s
.. :s+
A Special Feature ... 191
A Letter... 192
The Response... 196
C O N T E N T S
Editorial
As one moves away from the junior school, the fragrance of the Night Queen lingers in the
air and the noises of the children recede into the background. For a short while you enter
a zone where you can actually see butterflies flitting around and hear the birds and the
bees. Soon you enter the portals of the senior school. Unlike in the junior school there are
no energy outbursts here. The senior most classes are either fishing around the pond at
one end or lying around in a daze at the other end. At the staffroom there is the
monotonous clickety clack of the computer keys. When you leave these two zones you
slowly submerge into a vortex of space, silence or noise depending on the direction you
take. Alongside all this, there exists a parallel world of squirrels, monkeys, caterpillars etc.
How can anyone capture such diversity and richness within these pages?
As you browse through the articles you get a whiff of life at RV that lingers on like the
fragrance of the night flowers. At the very start there is a small piece on creativity by
Krishnamurti. One would like to keep the question alive, Or is there a different kind of
creativity which is born out of the freedom from the known? The articles are in a certain
order. A few articles from old students have been included. They were meant to be in the
school magazine a few years ago, but somehow they have a found a way into this magazine
weaving a thread of continuity from the past. It is an interesting exercise to see how the
young mind looks at the world around as compared to an older student. The Palash was in
bloom only for two weeks or so but young Siddharth from Prep has caught this in his poem
and has even made a model of one. For Karunya of Class 12, it is the Tamarind tree that tugs
at the heart strings.
None of these articles have been written for the purpose of the magazine. They have
found their way in here straight from the class notebooks. So sometimes you may find
multiple voices on a similar subject. If you are one of those persons who is pressed for time
and impatient, you may find a few articles repetitive. But if you are in the right frame of
mind, it is fascinating to see how the same teacher and the same topic can produce such
individual responses. A point in case are the set of poems on healthy food habits by
students of class 7. In Losangs poem Harry the Weary there is earthy humour in the
unwanted weight that Harry is carrying. Chhavvi's poem on the other hand is very matter of
fact : Food is good/Food is bad/It depends on your taste?. Many of the articles have in fact
been taken from the test papers. For instance, Aravind's Question of Equality was a part of
his first series paper. It gives immense pleasure to note that even in an exam situation
some students can be deeply reflective. Credit goes both to the teachers and the students
for the choice of topics. There are two diverse yet interesting approaches to the debate:
Money is the root of all Evil. This issue of the magazine has articles by the teachers as well.
Once again, some of these were not specifically written for the magazine but have been
adapted from the assembly talks. Incidentally, the issue also includes a letter that students
of Class 11 have written to NAC on the Food Security Bill and Sonia Gandhi's reply to this
letter. We hope that you will enjoy going through this issue of the Rishi Valley School
magazine.
Editors
What is creativity?
Question: What is true creativity and how is
it different from that which is so
considered in popular culture?
Jiddu Krishnamurti - What is generally
called creativity is man-made - painting,
music, literature, romantic and factual, all
the architecture and the marvels of
technology. And the painters, the writers,
the poets, probably consider themselves
creative. We all seem to agree with that
popular idea of a creative person. Many
man-made things are most beautiful, the
great cathedrals, temples and mosques;
some of them are extraordinarily beautiful
and we know nothing of the people who
built them.
But now, with us, anonymity is almost
gone. With anonymity there is a different
kind of creativity, not based on success, money - twenty-eight million books sold in ten
years! Anonymity has great importance; in it there is a different quality; the personal
motive, the personal attitude and personal opinion do not exist; there is a feeling of
freedom from which there is action.
But most man-made creativity, as we call it, takes place from the known. The great
musicians, Beethoven, Bach and others, acted from the known. The writers and
philosophers have read and accumulated; although they developed their own style they
were always moving, acting or writing, from that which they had accumulated - the known.
And this we generally call creativity. Is that really creative? Or is there a different kind of
creativity which is born out of the freedom from the known? Because when we paint,
write, or create a marvellous structure out of stone, it is based on the accumulated
knowledge carried from the past to the present. Now, is there a creativity totally different
from the activity that we generally call creativity? Is there a living, is there a movement,
which is not from the known? That is, is there a creation from a mind that is not burdened
with all the turmoils of life, with all the social and economic pressures? Is there a creation
out of a mind that has freed itself from the known? Generally we start with the known
and from that we create, but is there a creative impulse or movement taking place that can
use the known, but not the other way round? In that state of mind, creation, as we know it,
may not be necessary. Is creativity something totally different, something which we can
all have - not only the specialist, the professional, the talented and gifted? I think we can
all have this extraordinary mind that is really free from the burdens which man has
imposed upon himself.
Out of that sane, rational, healthy mind, something totally different comes which may not
necessarily be expressed as painting, literature or architecture. Why should it? If you go
into this fairly deeply, you will find that there is a state of mind which actually has no
experience whatsoever. Experience implies a mind that is still groping, asking, seeking and
therefore struggling in darkness and wanting to go beyond itself. There is a complete and
total answer to the question if we apply our minds and our hearts to it; there is a creativity
which is not man-made. If the mind is extraordinarily clear without a shadow of conflict,
then it is really in a state of creation; it needs no expression, no fulfilment, no publicity and
such nonsense.
From Questions and Answers : Krishnamurti Foundation Trust Ltd, UK
Jiddu Krishnamurti
Photo Gallery...
ISC 2011 (Class 12)
Top-bottom
Row 1: Rathik, Nikhil, Anika, Tushar, Mustafa, Shashank, Chirag, Jaideep, Sooraj, Nirvair
Row 2: Ismat, Ira, Avinash, Sudeepti, Raksha
Row 3: Leila, Samyukta, Karunya, Darshan, Rukma
Row 4: Sowmya, Anisha, Tulika, Siddhartha Menon(Class Teacher), Nishyta, Nehal,
Sindhoora
Row 5: Niranchana, Ashni, Muhil, Harini, Amoli, Diskit, Suditi
ICSE 2011 (Class 10 A)
Top row: Rhea, Vaibhav, Naveen, Krishna Menon (Class Teacher), Bharath, Prashant,
Athyuttam, Mohnish
Middle row: Kaya, Tara Nair, Likhita, Prajna, Mukthi, Alekhya, Tara, Prateek, Romus
Bottom row: Rishik, Chandril, Vaishno, Krithika, Chetana, Aditi, Abhay, Sai Manoj
ICSE 2011 (Class 10 B)
Top row: Aditya,Rahul,Sunil Thomas (Class Teacher), Sahas, Soham, Mihir, Brihadeesh,
Sameera, Tanya,
Middler row: Shubham, Sathvik, Santhosh,Sarvesh, Rishiraj, Abhivir, Aravind, Malasree
Bottom row: Madhunika, Malavika Nair, Malavika, Nandita, Ilina, Megha, Muktika, Savitri
Tagore festival
Sports Day - Moments of Glory
Life goes on in RV...
Middle and Senior school Excursions
Hi Five
From the teachers pen
SOME RANDOM THOUGHTS
Recently I came across a book titled 'One hundred places to see before you die.' In a similar
vein one can expect titles like 'One thousand movies to watch,' Ten thousand books to
read,' 'One million websites to visit,' 'One billion experiences to have,' etc. Now how
feasible is it to do all these ? Who has the time, energy or money for all these ? How many
lifetimes are needed to fulfil all these ? If you haven't done even a billionth part of these
is your life wasted or pointless ? How does one navigate in this ocean of
information,edification, entertainment, personality development, spiritual upliftment
and so on ? What is the place of just being, by yourself, doing nothing, going nowhere ?
What is the right balance between doing and being ? What about those who lived before
some of these offerings appeared- before TV, movies, the internet ? Were their lives not
worth living ? What about the inventions and developments of the future ? Is our life the
poorer for not having them ? If you had a choice of which epoch of human history you
would like to be part of, what would you choose ? Some may have a definite answer to this-
they may choose a time associated with their faith, or a time when their favourite hero was
in action, for instance; some may choose a period in the future, but how far in the future ?
Is there a way of being which does not belong to any time ? In children and sometimes in
adults too I see a yearning for the past; this could be a reaction to the increasing pace of
social and technological change; I see a lot of interest in mythology, archeology, the
primitive, fantasies that try to link the past and the future, etc. We all would like to
transcend time, to overcome the tyranny of time. Coming back to the original question-
with how much of 'experience ' do I fill my life ? Since there is no end to the possibilities
the best way out seems to be to say 'Well, your experience is as good as mine. ' Is this what
K meant when he said 'You are the whole of mankind.' We often wish ourselves and others
a happy time. But is happiness the ultimate value ? I feel that wholeness is a greater value.
To take an anology, a meal is not complete if it is all sweet- it should cater to all the tastes
that our tongue can sense. A book or movie is called an epic if it has a place for a variety of
emotions. In the same vein a life is complete only when all our faculties are engaged
when we feel part of all mankind or even all life.
Dr. A Ramachandran
Teachers Section
TECHNOLOGY
He had come along with a few others to spend some time at the study centre discussing
Krishnamurti's teachings. He was sitting on the floor right in front watching a video of
Krishnamurti's talk. His attention was equally divided between the TV screen and the
much smaller one of the phone in front of him.
He was on the swing with one hand on the chain, gently moving back and forth. I thought
for a moment he was reliving his childhood memories. He was holding a cellphone with
the other hand close to his left ear, and seemed completely oblivious to his surroundings.
He stared at me vacantly as I went past him.
While she was explaining why she was visiting the school and how she got interested in
Krishnamurti's teachings, a peculiar sound emanated from her handbag. She was
embarrassed and fumbled in the many pockets of the bag to ferret out the little flashing
device. She turned it off and put it away with a note of apology but not before satisfying
her curiosity to find out the identity of the caller.
It was quite dark, with just a few shafts of light from REC filtering through the trees
illuminating patches of the road here and there. The air was still. Even the frogs which
normally croaked loudly were silent for some reason. There was however a loud talk going
on at the second bridge. A stranger was seated comfortably on the wall of the bridge in
typical village fashion and was speaking into his cellphone. Wildly gesticulating he was
giving someone a graphic account of what he would do to that person, his wife, his mother
and several others, with a torrent of unprintable expletives.
She was sitting silently on the stone bench and looking up intently at the banyan tree. I was
keen to not disturb her contemplation as I walked past. I soon noticed she was talking to
someone in a whispering tone over her phone.
It was a private concert. A young man was sitting on the floor quite close to the musicians.
He seemed to know them well and the intricacies of music too, for he was shaking his head
rather vigorously and his hand slapping his thigh furiously in tune with the mridangam. His
engagement with the music didn't however prevent him from frequently fiddling with the
buttons on his cellphone and look for messages.
I was pleasantly surprised to see, from a distance, that he had actually stopped his two-
wheeler on the side of the road to take a phone call. He had turned towards the bushes on
the side and was talking softly into the phone held by his right hand. It was only when I
approached him I realised he was also relieving himself nonchalantly.
Every new technology is heralded in with the promise of radically changing our lives for
ever. Technology is only a facilitator and an amplifier -- of both good and bad.
Dr. A Kumaraswamy
Some Well Known and Lesser Known Tales
Akbar-Birbal Story
I. Why is the camel's neck crooked?
As you all know, Emperor Akbar was impressed with Birbal's wisdom and greatly enjoyed
his quick wit. One fine morning when Akbar was pleased with Birbal, as a gesture of
appreciation, he promised to reward him with many valuable gifts. However, many days
passed,and still there was no sign of even one gift. Birbal was quite disappointed with the
king. Then one day, When Akbar was strolling down the banks of river Yamuna with his ever
faithful Birbal at his side, he happened to notice a camel passing by. He asked why the neck
of the camel was crooked. Birbal thought for a second and promptly replied that it might
be because the camel may have forgotten to honour a promise. Akabar soon realised his
folly of making a promise to Birbal for gifts and not honoring it. As soon as the y returned to
the palace he immediately gave the promised gifts.
II. Why do cats chase rats?
Thousands of years ago, The Jade Emperor of China organised a race for animals. The first
12 animals to finish were to be given a place in the Chinese Zodiac and have a year named
after them. The Cat and the rat, both late risers asked the ox to wake them at dawn on the
day of the race. Came the day. The Ox tried to wake the cat and the rat but without success.
They would open their eyes, turn to the other side and go back to sleep. The race was about
to start, Unwilling to leave them, the Ox coaxed them on to his back and started running.
The rat woke up just as the ox was crossing the last hurdle, a river. The sly rat knew that he
could never beat the cat in the race. So the rat pushed the cat off the ox's back. When the
ox reached the other side, the rat jumped off and scampered to victory, just ahead of the
ox. The tiger came third. The 12 year cycle of the Chinese Zodiac begins with the rat. After
him came the ox, followed by the tiger. After them the rabbit,dragon,snake,horse,
goat,monkey,rooster,dog and pig. The Cat, it must be noted has no place in the Zodiac. She
wasn't among the first twelve. Infact she was lucky to finish the race, having almost
drowned in the river. So is it any wonder that cats chase rats? They can never forget the
humiliation heaped on their ancestor by a tricky rodent.
Riddles
1. A cow going north turns round so that it is now facing south. If it then turns to the east
which way will its tail be pourting?
2. Why didn't the ambitions scientist have a bell on his door?
3. You are a big game hunter and you got a message saying that a huge elephant is on the
rampage and has to be shot. What would you do?
Vijaya Santhanam
A n s w e r s : 1 D o w n w a r d s . ( 2 ) H e w a n t e d t h e n o - b e l l ( N o b e l ) p r i z e . ( 3 ) N o t h i n g B l u e e l e p h a n t s d o n ' t e x i s t .
Subramania Bharati
What Shakespeare is to England so is Bharti to Tamil Nadu, What Valmiki is to Sanskrit,
Bankim to Bengali so is Bharati to Tamil . He packed so much achievement in an all-too brief
period of 39 years so and so that he is hailed as a Mahakavi. He wrote about 500 poems,
short and long, lyrics and ballads. Born at Ettayapuram in the Tirunelvelli District on Dec11,
1822. He studied upto matriculation, married at the age of 15 and left for Varanasi to
continue his studies. He passed the Allahabad University Entrance Examination but chose
to return to Ettayapuram. He taught in a school for a few months, moved to Chennai and
joined a Tamil daily `Swadesamithran'
(Friend of the country). He found himself in the company of the radicals at the Surat
Session of the
Congress in 1907. His meeting with Tilak was one of the momentous episodes of his life. He
had great admiration for sister Nivedita to whom he dedicated one of his books.He was
influenced by Bankim Chandra Chatterjee. Whose `Vande Mataram' he translated into
Tamil.
He was a patriot poet to whom freedom was his breath and poetry his soul. His `Purest
thoughts' about life, god and nation found their sweet and sublime expression in his
poetry. Prof A Srinivasaraghavan writes about Bharati . 'Bharati freed Tamil poetry from
the affectation and pedantry of Pandits, the religiosity of `Sthala Puranas' and the
obscurities of and theological posing. He had it firmly planted on this earth, had fed it with
the joys and sorrows of men and by securing for it sincerity and truth, had enabled it in the
only manner possible, to reach out in its large life' embracing sweep from realism to
reality. He substituted experience for formula, expression for ornamentation, incision for
catch-phrases, and the spirit of poetry was re-born in Tamil Land.
Alas, what was said of Homer was equally applicable to him: 'Seven; wealthy towns
contend for Homer dead, through which the living Homer begged his bread'. Bharati's
claim to greatness rests chiefly on him being 'a peoples poet'.
Viyaya Santhanam
MLV and Me An Incredible Journey
The Journey begins
It was perhaps in July or August of 1978 when I was told that MLV might join Rishi Valley
School (RVS) . The Proposal had been mooted by Sri C V Narasimhan and his cousin
Jayalakshmi Ammal who was a close friend of the KFI and a great connoisseur of music. I
remember my immediate response how will a top-notch musician, used to great
adulation survive in the self effective atmosphere of RV. To this day I have felt very happy
with the fact that I was proved completely wrong.
A couple of weeks later I heard that MLV was actually on the campus and she was keen to
meet me. I had long been a student of music and the word must have got around. As soon
as she saw me, she said that she had seen me in many of her Kutcheris. I then gently
reminded her that she had sung for my wedding. Immediately she said Yes, was it in '58 or
59? I was amazed as it indeed was in April of '59 that she had sung at my wedding
reception. In fact, I had gone to her house with my mama to request her so sing for my
wedding Vikatam Murthy was a close friend of my uncle!
There is no dearth of coincidences in one's life. When my son's wedding was fixed, I came
to know that MLV had also sung at my Sambandhi's wedding reception and of course she
also sang at my son's wedding for which the venue was Guruvayoor. Needless to say, the
kriti Guruvayoorappane Appan in the raaga Ritigowla was the highlight of the evening's
performance.
Coming back to that meetings with MLV in Rishi Valley, before they returned to Chennai,
Jayalakshmi Ammal called me that I should see myself as a bridge between the school and
MLV.
The rest was history as they say. The eminent mridangam maestro Sri Palghat Mani Iyer
was already there in RV and with MLV's arrival, the valley resonated with music of the
highest quality.
Rishi Valley School (RVS) is a fully residential school in a remote part of Andhra Pradesh.
Established by J Krishnamurti in 1931. RVS has always had a strong tradition of music and
dance, Many doyens of music would perform every year during Krishnaji's visit to RV. Of
course, with these two doynes living on the campus, it was indeed a landmark that needed
to be celebrated.
In J.Krishnamurti's own words:
The country was beautiful; it had rained recently, the night before. There were hills and
the red earth; they were not thundering hills but gentle and old, some of the oldest on
earth, and in the evening light they were serene, with that ancient blue which only certain
hills have. Some were rocky and barren, others had scrubby bushes and a few had some
trees, but they were friendly as though they had seen all sorrow, and the earth at their feet
was red.
In the midst of the evening light and the hills becoming more blue and the red earth richer,
the otherness came silently with benedictions.
(From K' s Notebook)
It was into this sacred atmosphere that MLV entered and wholly embraced the spirit of the
valley. Right from Day 1, MLV settled into an entirely new phase in her life in RV with great
comfort and a sense of deep belonging.
Together we did a short-listing of students who could be trained by her. The group
consisting of girls and few boys, were from several parts of India. None of them had prior
formal training in music other than having been trained in singing the various songs for the
school assembly ranging from short classical pieces to Bhajans and several Vedic Chants
and Shlokas.
MLV as a Teacher
For me as a passionate lover of music, it was a lifetime of learning and a great privilege to
see the sensitivity and insight fullness that MLV brought to teaching Carnatic music to this
group. Today, I can say with certainty that this was possible only because MLV's innate love
and care for fellow human beings and especially young minds. Never would there be a
whiff of a celebrity status in anything she did for that matter. She taught them simple Adi
Tala Varnams, attractive short Krithis, along with Thukdas. I would like to highlight the
manner in which the songs were taught. She would deliberately choose songs with
attractive Chittaiswarams and begin teaching the swarams first. I realized that this was
great motivation for the students that made the group so eager to learn the song having
absorbed the raaga bhaava and the permutations and combinations throught the
fascinating swara patterns. I can still remember Sobillusaptaswara (Jaganmohini) and
Neepadame (Nalinakanti) in particular. The children loved rendering the chittaiswarams
in two kalams, of course blissfully unaware that they were led quite unobtrusively into the
world of raagam and swara gnanam.
Another windfall for all of us was her sharing with us part of the treasure trove of Kritis she
had learnt from GNB. There were about 5 voluminous note books and she would choose
such beautiful songs for this group. And we all know what GNB's compositions were like.
Purandara Dasa Kritis became part of the repertoire of the music group.
Yet another windfall that came our way was Sri Lalgudi Jayaraman's Thillanas. That was the
time (late '70's and early '80's) he had started composing them. He would share them with
Kanyakumari and request to pass them to MLV. She and I literally learnt these Thillanas
together and then she would teach the children the same. Mohanakalyani Thillana was the
first one that came to us. I used to be fascinated by the ease with which she led the
children through the world of Sri Lalgudi's creative genius. Behag, Revathi and Rageshri
followed, along with Swati Tirunals Dhanasri Thillana. In fact Behag Thillana was taught to
us by Kanyakumari.
The concept of a weekly special assembly of 20 minutes was introduced every Friday at
8:30 AM, where this senior group would share what they had learnt, with the rest of the
school. MLV formatted them like a mini-kutcheri sharing with a Varnam in 2 kalams
followed by a madhyakala kriti, A light thukada and a thillana. RVS always had in house
mridangam training for many students. Hence there assemblies had excellent percussion
support form the mridangam master as well. She had this tremendous arul sense and
hence chose songs that lent themselves well to group singing, whilst never compromising
on quality. One striking example that comes to mind is Bhaja Re Manandsa in Abheri in 2
kalai chowkams. It would sound so beautiful when rendered by the group and had a
predominantly lay audience mesmerised. Shyamala Bhave, a noted Hindustani musician
from Bangalore also visited RVS during this time and taught some beautiful Abhangs.
Maaze Manoratha -- and abhang by Namdeo, taught to us by Shyamala Bhave would have
the audience swaying to the beat of Kesava, Madhava, Narayana....
I would see her in the auditorium tuning the Tambura along with the mridangist at 8:00 Am.
I used to tease her about taking these assemblies even more seriously than her Kucheris
and she would respond seriously saying -- -- one must always give respect to the Sabai -
- the audience. The Audience was made up of 90% students in the age group of 9 to 17
and 10% Staff Members... What commitment!!
MLV as a Composer
As I had stated earlier, RV had a strong tradition of Bharatanatyam Ballets (Dance dramas)
as well. With MLV's arrival and her musical inputs in this area, the ballets were made
memorable. silappadikaram was staged in Krishna Gana Sabha and Shakuntalam in the
Music Academy. Composing music for these dance-drama was a process of self-discovery
for MLV. She had never done this before. She and I would meet every night after dinner at
her house to set music for songs. Words can never adequately describe the entire process.
I would be astounded by the ease with which she would choose an appropriate raaga to
suit the context and unleash variations from which she would ask me choose -- Hobson's
choice obviously!! every time this happened and this was on a daily basis the only
striking visual that would come in front of my eyes was of a very intuitive salesman in a
saree shop who would spread before you sizzling array of sarees, which made choosing a
very challenging task. I would also be deeply touched and feel very privileged that she had
such implicit faith in my Gnanam. Those were heady days when she adapted the Khamas
Daru for a dance in Silappadikaram, by Madhavi in the royal court. Since she had taught
me the Raagamaalike Sancharadadhara, I remember requesting her to introduce Gavati
for a song in Shakuntalam as well as Karnaranjani. This immediately resulted in this
magical duet for Shakuntala and Dushyanthan to dance the main raaga being Karnaranjini,
with Gavati making a striking appearance in the Raagamaalika.
Yet another unforgettable song was for a musical play Karna where this extraordinary
lilting lullby was created as Kunti sets afloat the basket with the baby Karna on the river -
- Maiya Hari Paalan Dulaare... We had strong Sanskrit, Telugu and Hindi departments and
the senior teachers from these departments would give us invaluable inputs that added a
phenomenally qualitative dimension to the project. I could go on and on...
When Shakuntalam was staged in the Music Academy, the audience consists of stalwarts
in the field of music, dance and literature. Many had brought Kalidasa's Shakuntalam with
them for reference! When the ballet ended, there was not a single dry eye so moved
were they by the experience. And with Sudha's extraordinary voice quality providing vocal
support, all these productions had a magical quality to them. Also, this was a facet of MLV
that Chennai had not known. I remember how Semmngudi Mama came up to MLV visibly
moved and excited saying Vasanthi, I never realized you had this in you (Compoing such
enchanting music).
MLV as a Friend
If after all these years I am able to recollect so much it is only because of the almost
instantaneous bonding that happened between us. The passion for music was what
initially drew me to her. Then from closer quarters, I could perceive the great human being
that she was a giver at all levels. Further down the line we realized that we had both
come to RVS after experiencing personal tragedy of varying degrees. This brought us even
closer together at one level. Both music and children as 'healer was a tremendous insight
that we both shared. Music and life were also closely and deeply intertwined that it helped
us see both finding their right places during the course of this journey.
At a banal level too we also had shared interests! A lover of good food, MLV introduced me
to Pizzas at Cake and Bakes in Chennai. Ice Cream was yet another favourite and she had
no qualms enjoying it. She had a terrific dress sense and we have enjoyed many shopping
expeditions together particularly when we had to shop for costumes for the dance-drama.
That we ended up picking sarees for ourselves was another matter. Generous to a fault, she
would always get me a beautiful saree whenever she got back to RV after a concert.
...And that reminds me of the tense moments when a colleague of mine and I were wating
for her return to RV around 11:pm after her tumultuous trip to Sri Lanka. We knew that she
and her accompanists had a narrow escape from the riotous mob which had gone berserk.
Considering the trauma and tension she had just been through, we were very concerned.
And all she had to say after greeting us was -- I am so sorry, I have come empty handed
couldn't get you all anything. This, after having lost all of her personal belongings;
including the treasure trove of GNB's compositions in 5 volumes. Need I say anything
more!
The Journey Continues
I left Rishi Vally in 1989 as I needed a much deserved break and rest . Leaving RVS and MLV
was not easy. There were some disturbing symptoms on her health front that had caused
me some concern even at that time. Well, events took their own relentless course and her
health deteriorated. I used to get regular updates on her health, both from friends in RV
and Chennai. I was in Pune with my son. I knew that she had been admitted to St. Isabella's
Hospital. Sometime in October I sent her a get-well card wherein I also stated that I would
be in Chennai for the music festival in December and looked forward to seeing her on
stage.
My son and I had gone visiting a friend in Pune on a 2 wheeler. On our way back, we were
caught in the rain and completely drenched by the time we got home. I went to my room to
dry my hair and switched on the TV to casually watch the news. The NEWS left me
paralised. Who can fight death? But it wasn't easy accepting it. Later, I heard that my Get-
well card was firmly ensconsed under her pillow. But the physical agony of her ailment
must have made her cry out -- Innu daya baarathe, daasana mele.... And the Lord decided
with deep compassion to free her form her mortal coils. It was a liberation on all fronts for
her but for mortals like me there would always be a space that would be difficult to fill.
The memorable, mystical journey with this wonderful, compassionate, giving spirit MLV
continues to this day into uncharted territories of music.
Uma Akka
Chitrakavyam
(Kavyadarsha of Dandi - 600 AD)
The God Vishnu who causes pleasure to the other gods and pain to the opponents of the
Vedas, filled the heavens with a loud sound as he killed the Hiranyakashipu.
(Sishupalavadham of Magha 700 AD)
The fearless elephant, who was like a burden to the earth because of its heavy weight,
whose sound was like a kettle drum, and who was like a dark cloud, attacked the enemy
elephant.
(Kiratharjuneeyam of Bharavi- 600 AD)
A man is not a man who is wounded by a low man. Similarly he is also not a man who
wounds a low man. The wounded one is not considered to be wounded if his master is
unwounded. And he who wounds a man who is already wounded, is not a man.
Sri Krishna, the giver of every boon, the enemy of the evil-minded, the purifier, the one
whose arms can annihilate the wicked who causes sufferings to others, shot his pain-
causing arrow at the enemy.
Balarama, the great warrior and winner of great wars, shining like Shukra and Brhihaspati,
the destroyer of wandering enemies, went to the battle like a lion stopping the movement
of his foes, who were endowed with a four-fold army.
(Saraswathi Kantabharanam of Bhoja 1000 AD)
Oh you, who bathes in the current of the rippling Ganga; you have no acquaintance with the
suffering world; you have the ability to go till the Meru mountains and you are not under
the control of the crooked senses.
Oh Lord Siva, the possessor of three eyes, the knower of existence, measurer and
destroyer of the earth, enjoyer of the eight-fold superhuman power and nine treasures of
Kubera, you who killed Daksha and Kamadeva, do remember me.
(Haravijayam of Ratnakara 850 AD)
The gods took refuge in Brihaspati, the lord of speech, the preceptor of the gods in heaven,
when they went for the battle. They prayed so that he would remain happy and strong, and
not withdraw into unconsciousness, again and again.
It is very difficult to face this army which is endowed with elephants as big as mountains.
This is a very great army and the shouting of frightened people is heard.
Oh immortals, indeed the lover of sharp swords, the fearless man does not tremble like a
frightened man in this battle full of beautiful chariots and demons who are devourers of
men.
Ramakrishna Kavyam of Surya Kavi)
I pay my homage to him who released Sita, whose laughter is deep, whose embodiment is
grand and from whom mercy and splendour arise everywhere. (Rama)
I bow down before Krishna, the descendant of Yadava family, who is the lord of the sun as
well as the moon, who liberated even her (Poothana) who wanted to bring an end to his
life, and who is the soul of this entire universe. (Krishna)
(Kiratharjuneeyam of Bharavi 600 AD)
Oh man who desires war! This is that battlefield which excites even the gods, where the
battle is not of words. Here people fight and stake their lives not for themselves but for
others. Here those who are eager for battle and even those who are not very eager, have to
fight.
(Padukasahasram of Sri Vedanta Desikan 1200 AD)
(Padukasahasram of Sri Vedanta Desikan 1200 AD)
Rajgopal
The reference book name is "The Wonder That is Sanskrit"
written by Sampad and Vijay published by Aurobindo Society
Articles from yester years...
The morning of November 23
rd
, 2009
The morning of November 23
rd
, 2009 did not appear to be unusual in any way; at least until
people opened their doors to collect their post and newspapers. At the time, I was
enjoying my yearly vacation. I used to wake up late in the mornings. I was alone at home.
When I went to collect my newspaper, shortly after brushing my teeth, I noticed a rather
unusual object in the sky. It appeared to be some kind of a rudimentary spaceship. I gazed
at it, transfixed for a while, then decided that I must be hallucinating because my ten hours
of sleep were extremely inadequate, and went inside to consider the prospect of
rejuvenating myself with a short siesta, in order to avoid future hallucinations such as this
one.
By some vague chance, I put on my television ? to help me in my aim of rejuvenating my
fatigued mind. The programmes on the T.V. were interesting for a change. They all showed
the same thing ? the vague-looking spacecraft ? like the object I saw. An American man
with a nasal voice would then appeal on any television screen, following the footage of the
rather featureless spacecraft, telling people that the situation was under control. He
also said that employees of all space agencies were working hard to establish contact with
this spacecraft, but to no avail. He then repeated that the situation was under control.
I went outside again, and gave a small wave at this harmless looking spacecraft. It was
saucer-shaped, and was brightly coloured. It was otherwise very plain looking. It was fairly
large too. I was rather disappointed by the fact that it looked exactly like the flying saucers
I used to draw in my childhood. People around me kept waking up, screaming and running
around. Some people also got into their cars and drove away, probably with the aim of
leaving the planet before armageddon. I went back inside.
At about mid-afternoon, I heard a knock on my door. The people knocking looked rather
unusual. They appeared to look like rabbits dressed up for a business meeting. I opened
the door, and asked them to come in. They thanked me, speaking in perfect English, though
with a slight Irish accent.
"We have gauged that this is the native tongue of Gumball Starros (Minor) 7", said one of
the businessman ? Rabbits. I told them, at that juncture, that this planet was the earth. The
second Rabbit ? businessman then reproached the first one, and told him that they should
have turned right at Alpha Centauri, and not left. Then I asked them why they had come to
my house. You waved at us they told me, in unison.
The first Rabbit businessman then asked me, very politely, the shortest route to Gamballa
Starros (Minor) 7. It was turning out to be a rather unusual day. I told them that I had no idea
what Gamballa (etc.) was, and that Earthlings have not started travelling between planets.
They laughed politely, and the second creature asked me the question again. They told me
that they were encyclopedia salesmen, for the Encyclopedia Galactica, and had received
a very large number of orders from Gumballa 7. They therefore could not afford to waste
any more time. I told them to wait, and went to my computer to look up the address of
NASA. Telling them this address was difficult, but they did eventually understand. They
thanked me, and we all sat in my living room, drinking orange juice. They left at about six
p.m. - thoroughly sozzled by the great quantity of orange juice I had in my fridge. They gave
me a complimentary copy of their encyclopedia.
After dinner, I put on my television to see that the United States of America and all other
powers were mobilising their nuclear weapons to blow this spaceship out off the sky. The
same American said that the NASA tricked two hideous beings to land in their
headquarters. These beings threatened to turn people into encyclopedias and drank a lot
of orange juice. They were thus terminated by a shotgun. There were thought to be
reinforcements in the spaceship, which, after this trick ? were not responding ? just as
before.
At 11:30, I went out, and I could make out missiles flying at the spaceship ? all missing the
spaceship. Later, I heard a loud explosion ? the auto defence mechanism of the spaceship
kicked in, and it left the planet in a great hurry. The remaining rabbits made it out of earth
safely, thankfully. It was well after midnight when it all ended.
Abhay V Rao
Limericks
There once was a bad boy from Dreamland.
All the while he hoped to own the land.
So he was in vain,
and went to Spain,
That boy was in vain from Dreamland.
Anirban Musib
July Night, Hyderabad
Dark, cool night
The dogs sang, in the rain
The thunders blocked the moon,
Where the fallen leaves got washed out.
I was walking in a dense road,
Where the water gushed like a snake.
The giant droplets splashed on my feet,
As I waded in the cool waters.
I could feel the warmth,
Delicious aroma wafts from a window.
Hunger and thirst
Haunted me for long.
No place go go,
But lived once like a lion.
Now on the streets I crave for something,
Beauty and peace till I die.
Akshitha Jasti
Epitaph of William of Occam
Here lies William of Occam
Who met his end
For turning Gods into stones,
By people who
Turned stones into God.
Aravind, VIII A
All an Illusion
The seven sisters were awake
The rats ignored my presence
And the air stung,
For it was dawning, the Sunday.
Hesitant, a small body climbed down
Down the roof to the stone bench
The bench where I sat.
It was a common squirrel.
Its three white stripes showed at twilight
The strips so talked about in folklore
Its golden-brown body glistened with dew
As it dropped softly on the ground.
Its muscles were tense, taut
And smoothness accompanied its movements.
Its shaggy tail thumped as it called
Its sweet birdlike note.
As it gave a sweeping look, its head fugitive
His eyes stopped uncertainly on me
When I looked harder, deeper in its eyes,
I found eloquence and superiority.
All at once, a door banged
A rude awakening to my happy trance
And in bounds too quick for me to see
It was gone, the squirrel, the mysterious one.
I had never thought something so small,
So ill-considered to be cute
Had the power to take over me
For those small, but precious moments
Called life.
Gitanjali
May Murmurs, Bogmallo (Goa)
The light vanished into dark
As fast as blowing out a candle
And now, the full moon had returned
Like a queen to her realm.
As the moon rode among her subjects
I was looking far below, at the sea
Tossing and turning in her sleep like a child
Disturbed and dangerously beautiful.
As her blanket rippled and spread
Reaching out like deadly feelers
I was entranced by the shimmer of her waves
As if under a hypnotic spell.
Her breath ruffled my hair
Just as a mother cares for her child
And sand slowly covered me in a blanket
As I slowly drifted to sleep.
Gitanjali
KABIR
At first sight he looked like an angel
Umm.... Second sight proved not
He was named after a saint
But took up after the devil.
Green day was what he listened to
Hip Hops was what he wore
Burping was one of his interests
Submitting chem was not
He died while on cloud 9
And now rests somewhere above!
John Kos
How to operate Mr Walky Dog
Even though this is a mechanical dog, do not underestimate it as it excretes oil from
time to times, so please take it for walks twice a day.
Please do not anger Mr Walky Dog, as if angered, his metal teeth might rip your leg off,
and your life insurance does not come with this package.
Please do not make him too happy either, as if he jumps on you, his heavy metal
frame might bring you down to the ground.
Please feed him regularly,twice a day, that is, each meal of his should consist of about
300 grams of nuts and bolts. If you do not feed him enough, he might eat you, and as
we told you earlier, your life insurance does not come with this package.
Please do not give him bones, he does not chew them, he eats them.
This dogs warranty expires at the time you get fed up with him and throw him in your
nearest scrap metal recycling centre.
Tongue Twisters
John the jackass jumped from the jaws of the jagged toothed Japanese jumping shark.
Kabir David
Summer
Unbearable heat,
Sweat dripping,
Clothes drenched with foul stinky smell,
Cursing the bright, spherical, huge sun.
Children licking icecreams
amusement parks cramped with people
People suffering from sunstrokes
hospitals running out of antibiotics.
Even the animals are not happy.
Dogs running like lunatics
because of the heat,
all wanting the corrosive summer to depart.
Manoj G
Horror-work
I hate them,
Ill get back at them...
Someday...
Holidays are meant to be fun,
not filled with home-work and studying.
I cant wait to pass out of school.
Then I wont have that burden of home-work
ever again in my life.
I cant walk to go back home
Ill tear all those books
to shreds
Theyll be in tatters
and after this
Ill burn them all
and watch them curl up,
black things, squirming, squiggling in the fire.
It will be so nice
All those memories of my eight standard school work
will go up in the blazing inferno.
And I will be standing there
Triumphant, vanquishing.
All those days of anguish,
those days of trauma
gone up in a cloud of smoke.
But I dont care
I am never going to miss it.
Now, I am self-governed
After being bossed over by everyone
All those days of trauma and anguish
Gone forever
Gone up in smoke
But even after all this,
Grown ups will never understand.
Natasha Rao
USA can never replace India
The United States of America has always been a distant dream, a slightly hazy mental
picture drawn in close reference with Hindi films about non-residential Indians. The land
of opportunities, as it is often called, has also had a fascinating appeal associated with it.
The country that was built up by immigrants stands with arms wide open today, welcoming
more of those immigrants who helped create the country. As I wander through the
corridors of my rural Indian school, I wonder at how a distant country will ever accept me
and if I will ever truly be happy away from home.
Americas education system is said to be excellent and the professionalism to be found on
college campuses is far ahead of Indias slack, easy-going college environment. To be part
of the bustling, dynamic crowds that are constantly on the move, living every moment is a
dream for me. To have a prestigious, elite college open its doors wide for me is a mere
hope. To leave behind friends, family, culture, my roots is a tragedy. While I long for the
unadulterated experience of growing up, being independent, an actual adult in my own
right, the fear of abandoning all that I have ever known is gut wrenching. Every minute
spent in this country becomes dear and precious as I try to imprint each image in my
memory bank to help me survive the long years in a distant country that is not yet home.
I have to learn how to cook. My mother despairs at my kitchen management. She believes
that I will starve, a very likely possibility if the best six burnt attempts of food are taken into
consideration. I tell her I will survive on salads and bread but my own stomach recoils at the
thought of anything other than rice and dal (pulses) and rotis (wheat) for more than a
month. My grandmother has lovingly packed my saris in butterpaper and I do not have the
heart to tell her that there saris will not be practical or suited for the campus life that
awaits me. My friends bid me adieu and I can feel the tears rising within me. The people
who have held my hand through all my childhood ordeals still come to hold my hand, even
as I bid them a goodbye.
However, as the day approaches, I can feel the excitement within me building up. The new
books, the winter wear, the necessities need to be bought and packed. The final
paperwork has to be done. The last goodbyes have to be uttered. Across the seven oceans
(a direct translation of a Hindi proverb) lies a new horizon to cross, a new world to live in.
This new world beckons to me, opening itself up to me. My brother, a student himself, will
be there to welcome me and as I cross over the threshold, into the world of adults, I can
feel a sense of liberation as well as a comforting feeling. The USA can never replace India as
home, but the four years to be spent there are eagerly anticipated by me.
Paromita Sen
Class XII
Asthachal
Its Asthachal time,
Shortened to Astha by the boys,
Golden silence rules.
The wind is soothing and cool.
The verdant trees all around,
In its midst is me.
The fresh leaves of the trees
Are dancing in the breeze.
To and fro, to and fro,
Like the movement of a boat.
Dogs are barking,
The pages of my book flutter,
Children mutter
As they grow restless.
The wooden, brown barks,
The sloping, smooth rock, so stark.
The rocky hills almost touch the clouds.
The noise of insects is the only sound.
Pranjal Begwani, Class 8A
Life
Life is a stream of sorrow and joy;
A river flowing from birth to death;
A reality for a short period of time.
Life passes like an airborne bird
Pout often it paces like a pedestrian;
Unpredictable, is its motto.
One moment laughing or crying,
Another moment ? on your way to the unknown.
Life is spread over a passage of time -
Life is growth from baby to child,
And then to adulthood, slowly ageing in time.
Life must be lived to the fullest.
Enjoy and savour every moment!
Darkness
The suns blank
darkness taking change of streets
trying to get into walls
and its succeeds.
Its everywhere
taking full control
machines use energy
to banish the darkness
Everyone fails....
They emerge from the darkness
Big shadows
The gates creak
They are up the stairs
They are searching for the house
The door is already open
A knife is pointed at my face?
Ram Bragadish
No Mercy
Straight to the sticks
Neither here
nor there
But, right on the sticks
There it goes
The big sphere
shining like the sun
smiling wickedly.
A long walk,
Out of the grass land
Guess where?
To the pavilion.
Ram Bragadish
Write Right
Any one who has a good grasp of spellings and grammar, who has good observation skills,
who is creative and has a flair for writing, can become a writer.
Well, if one aspires to be a writer, one can start by penning down a few pages of anything
(whether personal or otherwise), everyday. Maintaining a dairy is also a good way to test
and improve ones writing skills.
One can even start by writing poetry, which can give the person a sense of independence
which a writer or poet possesses.
So, what is poetry? Poetry is a medium through which one can express ones feelings.
Poems exude a certain charm of their own. Poems can be written on anything and
everything ? from the exuberance of nature to an exciting festival. One just needs to freely
abridge ones feelings and thoughts in words.
Spending your leisure time writing poetry is an excellent option.
So, what are you waiting for? Pick up a pen, and put your feelings down on paper. Who
knows, another Rabindranath Tagore might be in the making.
Past and Present
It was there
and will continue to be
but .... never clean.
It was the center of attraction
and will continue to be,
but .... never clean
It was a place where pigeons rested
and will continue to be
But .... never clean.
It was once a beach
but now a garbage dump!
It was once a place filled with fish
but now only with chemicals.
It was once a beautiful place
but it cant continue to be.
Ram Bragadish D, 8B
Recipe for a perfect Carnatic song
Take a cup of seven notes,
and add scoops of rhythm.
Chop some thalas and saute
with a spoon of practice,
Flavour it with a pinch of notes,
and put it in the oven
For an enriched flavour.
Pour some beats into the dish,
and add a lot of talent.
Heat the dish for 10 ? 20 mins
and serve with melody rolled in dessicated,
South-Indian raagas!
Ranjani Seshadri, 8
Senseless
There I was, amidst all the chaos.
People running everywhere, with nothing in their minds,
Except panic, yes, the panic in the atmosphere was overwhelming.
There I was, amidst all the bloodshed.
Gunshots sounding in the air, death everywhere,
Rich and poor alike, weeping their hearts out.
There I was, in the moment of truth.
This was my time of enlightenment, in the most unlikely place,
In the streets, where all hell had broken loose.
All around I saw people lamenting,
I heard cries of sorrow and pain,
The fresh taste of blood on my tongue,
That tingling feeling of fear and misery on my skin,
And the putrid stench of death all over the place;
There I was, curled up in the streets.
A witness to the mayhem, trembling;
I could not bear it anymore, so I shut my eyes and my ears.
A sense of peace and calm echoed through my thoughts.
This was how it was, to be blind and deaf, and then I realized,
I realized that the blind and deaf were fortunate.
They were lucky to be unaware and oblivious of all the havoc,
Suddenly the craving came, it was rash but it was true.
I wished to be SENSELESS....
R R Rishiraj, Class 7B
Death?
The clock ticks on, in its everlasting monotone,
Time, the designated time, is nearing.
Last minute changes, officials making haste as,
The crowds gather, to watch.
The sight of an execution, the stench of blood to come
The inhuman silence.
The concerned walks in, devastated.
No flying colours anywhere
The black dark gloom sets in
The sunny day a dark night.
The mask is removed,
Revealing a face that is in utter confusion
Thoughts racing in his mind.
Finally a wave of transformation envelopes him.
Acceptance flows through his veins.
Onlookers, without a clue fidget impatiently.
The victim is on full alert.
He takes a deep breath, his nostrils picking up
The smell of posh perfume from his observers.
Each in their own fashionable get ups,
Looking very presentable as if it were a fashion show or party
A butterfly catches his eye, its wings in all their glory,
Remind him of his childhood and make him forget his fate
But only for a second.
A cough breaks the silence, temporarily.
He sighs and walks to his destiny.
A burly executioner pushes him in the steps.
The sudden sensation f human contact startles him
Jagged stones on the steps pierce his feet
Like pikemen attempting to get through an armys defense,
But he doesnt care.
Unflinchingly he allows his head to be placed upon the stand.
He tastes the bad odour in his mouth
The odour created by suppressed words
He draws his final breath and sits still.
Waiting.
Bed Timing
Screeching of the stools on the ground
Soft creaks in their joints, as people get up.
Slow scratching of sand under feet,
Everyone begins to leave the room.
Eyes quickly adjust to the darkness outside
Only to encounter the glare of a nearly streetlight
The sounds of the night, amplified.
I walk home, in a daze,
Drunk with the uncanny silence.
Before I know it, my heads on my pillow,
Eyelids drawing to a close.
Recap of the precious hour
Echoes in my mind.
Once again, Im in the class,
Amidst the chatter of people trying to look busy
I rest my head on the table
Doing nothing but warming the stool.
The mind goes blank, all around me black,
As my head drops on the table.
Like a T.V. being switched off.
I drop dead...
Dead bored.
Rishiraj, Class 8, 2008
The rope is pulled, the blade creaks on its hinges
And begins its journey at an incredible speed.
The man hears the creak, and the last thing he feels
Is the cold touch of the blade, on his soft neck.
And audience begins to leave,
Not really knowing what to feel.
The last person to leave,
Is a small boy, a confused expression on his face.
An image flashes in his mind.
The image of a man, a guillotine just at his neck,
And a brilliant aura of enlightenment
Around his head.
Rishiraj, Class 8 - 2008
Change
It is something we all have to experience at some point, and consequently have to learn to
deal with. Most people fear it, while others await it, looking at it as a chance for growth and
adventure. I belong to the former, and am now dreading the moment where I, too, will
have to undergo such a change; a change in my environment, a change in all that I know, and
one in myself. In precisely three months, at the close of my schooling, I will be forced to
part with all that has ever mattered for me, and enter an alien world, for a stay which will
probably last a lifetime.
In all of the seventeen-odd years of my life thus far, I have never been required to spend
more than a week or two in an urban environment, which to me seems cold and unfriendly.
Accustomed as I am to the warm, familial atmosphere of both my home and boarding
school, it would perhaps come as no surprise that I am more than just slightly apprehensive
about entering the outside world. From my short stays in the city, I have built up an image
of a cell, of our own construction, where we are forced to lock ourselves in to bar the entry
of harm and consequently, everything which occurs around us. We lock ourselves away
from our emotions and pain, which we see as unnecessary and an obstacle to the fact-
pound lines we are forced to lead.
It is also the pain of separation which I may be unable to cope with. All the connections, the
relationships I have formed with the people and the places around me will soon be broken
and replaced with nothing but the desire for that which was lost. It is possible perhaps, that
I will make new friends, new connections, as I proceed with my new life, but this is still
something I am unsure of. For building these connections takes time, and I am uncertain
about ever once again finding the same level of emotional, and intellectual,
understanding as I have found with those whom I have spent the last eight years of my life.
But, on the other hand, I am perhaps still slightly excited by all I am going to undergo. It is,
as I mentioned, an opportunity to grow, to expand all my facilities and allow myself to
become a better human being. Thee is so much out there for me and everybody else to
learn, which would never be possible were I to remain holed up where I am now.
In three months, I shall be preparing for a death, an end to the first chapter of my life, a
death perhaps, but also birth, a beginning fresh start for myself and a chance to improve.
There will also be pain, but this, perhaps, is necessary. For if not for pain, would we ever
recognize happiness?
Saurabh Levin, Class XII
The Scorpion
As it roamed the sands
As it rambled the dunes
Its sting archly rising
Its sting cheekily posing
While it clicked its fingers conspicuously
While it snapped its claws overtly
Moving uncannily fast
Moving eerily away
Towards its unprepared victims
Towards its sufferers borne to be caught off gaurd
Sinking its sting
Sinking its venom
As it laughs
As it jeers
It watches them with eager eyes
It watches them with a flaking hunger
As they sink to the ground
As they slowly descend
Into eternal darkness
Into everlasting silence....
A ripple of fear
The plane suddenly lost its balance as it tumbled into the crashing
waters of the blue. I was thrown out of it as my nightmare drew nearer
and nearer. I awoke with a jerk as reality struck only inches away from
my death, devouring the liquid fear that crawled around ...
Summer
Summer is the want of a watery slur,
Summer is little girls in sundresses.
Summer is the season of warm colours.
Summer is the time for the surfer boys.
Summer is tanning in the deadset heat.
Summer is for the cocky seagulls to glide the azure skies.
Sindhu P, 8B
Aye August
The fitful wind that tosses
The leaves whistling their way
Along the window panes
and all along the lane.
The trees are barren
Like unclad wooden sculptures
The twigs swirled like the mermaids
Reaching out for the sun
The call of the parakeet
Whose chirp pinches the ear
The smoke from the chimney
Curling up natures spear
Millions of them are coming down
Making the land forget brown
And the birds rejoice
As the rain is back again
Just like a long lost friend.
Siri Meghana, Class 8B
Heartbroken
My head was bursting open,
My mind could think of absolutely nothing.
Except the fact that I was robbed
of everything I loved for and sobbed.
Those murderers who caused her death,
Were going to regret it until their last breath
Now time was just a waste
I realized what I had done shouldve been in haste.
I was going to make them die painfully,
No matter if it was done cruelly.
I would make them suffer,
For what they had taken away from me : HER..
I stand today heartbroken,
Not giving a **** if everyone in the world
was chokin.
I shouldnt have used profanity,
It doesnt help in enmity.
Suket Karnawat, 8B
October Night, Kashmir
The night was twinkling like cats eyes
Breeze was as cool as pepsi
window panes covered with frost
The mountain dark in the distance.
Streets empty as a hollow tree
The leaves were waiting to reach the crust
Pavements were carpeted with snow
Trees ready to descend.
The houses were nice and cozy
Fire places were bright
blasting shimmering light
The beds were ready to bear weight
The chillness in the air
Creeped into my throat as fast as a flash of light
People flurried and settled
The night was silent and cold.
Umasri, 8B
Goal...
There was a footballer waiting for a goal.
On his face there was a big mole
He got a header
But he was a big muffer
He couldnt shoot one single goal.
Satya B Vaghela, 8B
Recipe for a Perfect teacher
Begin with a packet of care and patience
Next stir with love and affection
add a teaspoon of kindness
Mix with stories full of joy
for added knowledge and cleverness
and a bowl full of anger
a pinch of tender words
in order to have hope and faithfulness
Bake for good deeds
serve with Generosity.
Vaishnavi, 8B
Scurrying away to glory
Ah! The bright sun rooting me to the spot
With all the sand, sea, shells and weeds
Rooted on the spot, grasping all the beauty of ? AHHHHHH!
A ladybird scurrying on my leg?!
How does a tiny insect such as this even get the power
To scuttle down a log like leg?
O ladybird
With your spots so black
Black as coal
And with your body so red
Red as the early morning sun
Go away
Away, before I knock you down
O ladybird with your magnificence
Ruling over the insects
Scurry off
Before I knock you down.
R Vishnupriya, 8B
Articles from the current year...
I Am Sweet, Sweet, Sweet
A boy called Rohit planted me one day in a pot. I was under the earth. Slowly my roots
came. Rohit used to water me every day, thats why I didnt die. Slowly I grew and came an
inch out of the soil. I saw the world. I was so happy. Rohit took me out of the pot and
planted me in his garden. Then I grew big like a tree. Rohit was very happy.
Years passed by. One day some white flowers covered me. I was extremely happy. Then
the flowers fell off me. Then some birds came and made their nests. And monkeys sung
from my branches. Then slowly small mangoes came out of the leaves. A month later the
small mangoes became big and Rohit climbed on me to pluck the mangoes. He tasted my
mangoes. It was very sweet, he told me. He started calling me sweet, sweet, sweet.
Thana Rohit, Senior Prep
The Tree of Fire
In the middle of our school
stands a tree of fire, graceful bright
Little helicopters all around it fly
Sometimes soaring, sometimes swerving
Never making a sound, never making a landing.
Stands a tree in a crimson cloak
It has found many friends in birds
Especially parakeets and honey suckers
Coming to feast in this carpet of red.
stands a tree in splendour
No king or monarch could wear such dress
The most splendid cloaks would
Turn black at sight of this tree
Palash
Siddharth, Senior Prep
(Assembled by Siddharth)
Gold

The statue of Zeus standing high
Looking down on the people passing by
Elegant ladies wearing rings
Oriole on a branch so happy it sings

A king on a throne wearing a crown
Poppies in a field like a dressing gown

Sunlight dancing on the sea
Monkeys eating mangoes, chitter chatter chee

Chicks in a barn
A lemon like a ball of yarn

Bananas in a basket
Sunflowers in a casket

Honey in a jar
Near a beach bar

Autumn leaves on the ground
A gold fish going round and round

There are many colours
In the world

The best are the flowers
That have unfurled

Arnav Koshy & Mayank Reddy, Class 4
Sachin Tendulkar
Hes got a Benz car
He is a spin bowler
I wish he was taller

Nivash B, Class 4

My Friend and I

My friend and I never fight ,
We are always together and when shes alone,
She never cries,
She is the only one who helps me
When Im lost and lonely.
Though I get scared very easily,
Shes really brave and tough
I remember once she taught me
To climb a tamarind tree,
Shes the one I want
Cause she always wants to be with me!

Sheenam Das, Class 4
From A Spaceship Blue
The vast sky
blue bird chirping by
The ink in my pen
And blue bells in the garden.

Faded skinny Jeans
For the modern queens
The vast blue ocean
Painted on a cushion

The speeding mini cooper
Fast as a cooker
The shiny Sapphire
Sparkling like fire

The butterflies sucking nectar
Tastes like a chocolate bar
The big blue whale
Looking very pale

The tasty blue berry
As sweet as a cherry
Who knows about the coral
I like it, Its royal.
Sharada A R and Gouri Nandana, Class 4

My Grandmother

My grandmother lives in Hyderabad. I call her Ammachi. She is my paternal grandmother.
She lives in the heart of the city in a small colony with my grandfather and his dog. She ties
her hair in a bun and it is grey.
Se loves to bake and cook, once she made pineapple upside down cake. It was sumptous.
She also likes to knit. She is a Christian and goes to church every Sunday. She lets me do
whatever I want. I love to play in their courtyard and play with their dog. He is a dachshund
and his name is Othello. We call him Burnt Sausage because he is black and like a hot dog.
But burnt hot dog does not sound nice so we called him Burnt Sausage.
Once when my grandmother was sleeping I went out to play with Othello. He jumped on
me and started nipping me. I got scared and started crying. My father came and took
Othello off and told me to push him off when he jumped on me and told me how to say no
to a dog. When Othello jumped on me again, I pushed him off and said "NO". To this day
Othello has not jumped on me again.

Arnav Koshy, Class 4

Fireman
I, fireman Vineeth was having a nice sleep. When the phone rang. I picked up the phone
and a voice shouted Fire! Fire! I asked where it was and the voice told Goody Bady Mady
road, Central Apartments. My crew and I jumped into our fire engine and sped to Central
apartment. On the way we switched on the siren and contacted the ambulance. We wore
our fire proof suit and oxygen masks and reached there. We pulled out the hoses and
ladder, we all climbed up and started putting out the flames and rescued the people. When
everyone were rescued we started putting out the flames. Suddenly one of the screws
came off from the ladder and the ladder started to wobble.
The ladder broke and I fell down. I put my hose in front of me and the power of the water
shooting out of the hose slowed me down and saved my life. By the time we had put out
the fire it was morning and a huge crowd had surrounded the building. The media took
down everything they saw there. After the crowd dispersed I asked someone how the fire
had started. They told me that Mrs. Chubby Mubby had lit the stove . A gust of wind blew
the fire toward an electric wire.
Mr. And Mrs. Chubby Mubby were in the hospital. I told them to put a fire extinguisher in
every room the next time they built apartments. That night on TV they showed the
charred building and in a picture it showed me falling down and holding the hose front of
and slowing my self down from a bad fall. We had party at night and I praised everyone in
my crew for saving f so many lives. Thank you.
Vineeth , Class 4
My Message for School Sports Day

The important thing is not winning but taking part and enjoying.
If you come 1
st
do not show off but congratulate the person who lost.
If somebody falls down during a race help them.
Practice makes perfect.

Marian Emmanuel, Class 4

Clerihew

Rinchen N Wangchuk
Loves to cook
He makes tasty momos
Stuffed with chocos.

Rinchen Wangchuk, Class 4

Day Dreams

My mother thinks Im writing a letter
But no!
I am in the Basketball Court
Playing a tournament
Defeating all the teams
And winning the Childrens World Cup
Tanuj Sir thinks I am doing Yoga
But no!
I am a Drongo
Whos been seen by class 4
I am in the Himalayan range
Trekking on Mt Everest.

My father thinks Im doing my project
But no!
I am a cricketer
Signing my papers for my fans
I am holding two daggers
And climbing Mt K2

Arya Achuta
My pet

My pets name is Snowy and she is a seal. She is white and has loverly fur. She has big cute
black eyes and a button nose. She has long whiskers. She swims very well.
I found snowy when I was taking a walk on the beach. She was trying to call her dead
mother and it looked like it would cry!! my heart went out to it. I picked it up and took it
home and gave it some milk. I stroked her as she drank. Then it cuddled on my lap and made
some noises and slept.
I feed my seal all kinds of food. I give it milk and fish. It loves salmon. I give it salmon on
Sundays.
Every morning Snowy wakes me up. Then she make me give it some breakfast at 10:30, I
take it for a dip in the sea and a walk. We come back at 11.30 and play for a while.
Surprisingly it loves playing with a ball. While I study, Snowy plays with my sister. After
lunch, she watches TV with me. Then she has a nap. From 5:00 to 7:00 she is left in the
ocean. At 7:30 she has dinner and takes a walk. Then she cuddles with me and sleeps.
When my parents first saw snowy they were surprised. Then I told them what happened
and they agreed to keep Snowy. My sister didnt agree but slowly she began to adore it. She
is my best friend and my only pet. People think its a weird pet but I dont.
One fine snowy day as I happily swam in the ocean I didnt realize the shark fin that was just
a few metres behind me. When I finally turned and saw it I screamed and tried to swim
away. Unfortunately it gripped my swimsuit. I thought this was the end of my life but
bravo! I saw Snowy and many other seals rushed at the shark and bumped against it. The
shark being inexperienced swam away. I fainted with joy and Snowy dragged me home. I
am really happy to have such a caring pet.

Kamana, class 5

Why Dragons Blow Fire

Long long ago, when god was creating the earth the dragons were not like what you think.
They were cute creatures and were friendly. But one day when Doty the dragon was
playing in the sky he saw a golden ball on gods throne. He wanted it so much that he stole
it. When god found out he was so furious he made him ugly. Poor Doty went back home
with a frown on his face. For a long time he did not come out of his dark gloomy cave. After
many years he came out. When he did he was horrified that all his friends had left him. He
was lonely and sad and he roamed around the beautiful forest. He was so angry at god that
he gulped up a stone. The pain was so much that fire came out of his mouth. He liked it, so
he tried it again but it did not work so he gulped another stone and it worked again. After
doing it for some time he got used to the pain and from that day on the only thing which
the dragon liked, was to spit out fire, and till now all dragons dont spit fire to scare you but
to show you how entertaining it is.

Subam, class 5

Excerpts from My Teacher ? Aug 2010 ? a topic
given by Deepa in her English class.
...My favourite teacher is Deepa Akka. She likes Nature especially animals. Yesterday we
found a baby squirrel. Akka kept it with her for the night. In the morning Akka left the
squirrel in the junior auditorium and waited. After half an hour the squirrels mother came
and took away her baby...
...My teachers name is Deepa Akka and I like her a lot. She is tall and thin. She wears
colourful clothes. She has long black hair and black eyes. She usually plaits her hair and
always puts a bindi. She has a scar on her forehead and one missing tooth. She is always
happy and cheerful...
...She is very sporty person. She just loves sports. She is very good at badminton. She also
comes cycling with us. But one of the things she cant do is swim...
...Her hobbies are music, reading and dance. She is teaching us how to do farming. She
knows a lot about plants..
...She likes reading all kinds of books and authors. When she was small she liked Enid
Blyton as her favourite author. Her first book of Enid Blyton was the Yellow Book...
...She is an expert in farming. She knows almost all the vegetables. She dislikes anything
against nature. She has a farmhouse in Coimbatore...
...Her favourite hobbies are gardening, animals, reading books, music, sports and
travelling. Deepa akka is a very kind teacher. Shes a fun teacher...
...She has a little daughter named Yamini. She is very sweet. Sometimes she is naughty and
Deepa akka is strict with her.
Class 5

The Tunnel of Adventure

There he stands, firm and sturdy, the King. Ruling with the queen of the valley, the Bee n
Bat Tree commonly known as the Big Banyan Tree or BBT for short. The Tunnel , big and
Kingly. Have some time on hand? Climb the hill and get inside. Dont worry, you dont need
a torch, for your path will be lighted by fireflies. Fear not for there are no ghosts nor creepy
crawlers only spooky halloween bats. Which arent scary. If youre lonely or homesick
miss you friends youve come to the right place. Come at night and see the fire flies at work
shining away like stars in the sky. See the silver lined clouds and rock lined with silver, Hes
still there for you to see, so you better go and see him soon!!
Maya Tanuj Shah
Haiku
The Flowing Stream
Water flowing fast
Sparkling like beads
Visiting different places.
Kethi Reddy Ajanth Kumar Reddy
The Great Banyan Tree
The old and tired tree
Hanging roots touching the ground
The mother of RV.
Diya Manish Shah

Tiger on the Prowl
Steady slow movements
Shining eyes in the dark
The leap and the feast

Aravind
Night in the Afternoon
The forest so dark
Thick trees blocking the sunlight
Night in the afternoon.
Rahula Pema Ram

Saved by the Tree
It was a rainy day
The lightning crashed in the sky
the banyan tree saved me.

Prithvi Tejpal Shah
Choco River
Down by the banks of the Choco River,
There used to be a candy beaver.
Its friend bat,
Was a big Kit Kat.
Along the streets of the Honey Cake,
There was a big fat mean snake
It went into ones house
And ate up little Milky Mouse.
"Chocolate, candy, Kit kat and cake.
Stop it for heavens sake!"
Said jolly rancher
The nasty poacher.
He punched, he kicked and killed them all.
He sold their hides and got a ball
Which was made of shiny silver
That was the end of the choco river.

Mytresh Madipalli

Beauty of Rain
When rain falls on the sea and rivers,
It seems that the drops of water glitter
Again, when it falls on leaves in summer;
Trees and plants look green everywhere
The land becomes green with corn we desire
Man and animals feel comfort in cool weather,
All are possible in a shower.
But more rain brings flood so far;
Everything goes underwater.
Animals are like fish out of water,
There hell strikes the door of death here and there!
Riya Roy .
Friends!
Friends are friends!
They are precious,
They are the one, who help you,
When you are in trouble.
True friends are true friends!
They stay in your heart.
We can share with them,
Our happiness, our sorrow.
If you have a true friend,
You have someone to share,
Your feelings with...!
If you have a shoulder to cry on!
forgetting a friends is...
Like forgetting a part of your life!

Sanjenbam Tanya

A Tower Named Empire

I see Empire. A tower with no life, joy or happiness
This is how he lives all day
He cant talk, jump or understand anything in any way!
And this is what happened the other day!

He got up and said, "People of Earth, , I am not a biotic anymore.
I have life just like you and me.
"To prove it just watch and you will see."
He got up looking almost twice as tall and he picked up a
Car and flung it so for that it landed on another car!

He walked towards a mall thinking it was fun and all but
couldnt enter because of his size.

He was so angry that he jumped so high, he vanished into
the sky and after that he was never found.

Ashwin Krishnan J

Blast from the Past
Sometimes I have questions
That I am too keen to know
Like
What the heck this earth was like?
A million years ago?

Did Giant spiders rule the earth?
Or did monkeys play football?
Was basketball made of rubber? Wait
What am I blabbering?
Did I ever exist at all?

Sometimes I wish
People made a time machine
And I volunteered to go to see
What the heck this earth was like
a million years ago?
Somesh Kelkar
Why?

Why cant girls play football?
Why shouldnt we kick balls?
Why dont they teach us?
Why shouldnt we learn?
Why should we stay down?
What have we DONE?

Why do they ignore us?
Why dont they help us?
Why are we alone?
Why cant we play football?
Why? Why ? Why?
WHAT HAVE WE DONE?

Arunima Mody Subramaniyam

The perfect place
I enter a flat sunny place surrounded by rocks,
I look up at the sky and see fluffy cottons pass,
The cool breeze caresses me,
As I walk through the tall grass.

Slowly, I find myself in a shaded place,
And as I make my way through the bushes green,
A clear surface under a canopy comes in my sight,
Wow! Ive conquered the place, Im the queen!

Such a beautiful place it is,
This is where youll find peace,
Settled within trees and animals lies;
My perfect place.

Tulasi Sakshi Joshi
Goodbye Mr Phobia

The fear of heights
was keeping my rights
From climbing to the top of SBT
As hard as I would try
My mind would cry,
Oh, please, I beg you dont make me do t his."
I would look at the tree
The branches free
In the wind of noontime.
The peaceful air
Would even make a hare
Relax and sleep.
Aah! I wish
I could put all my fear in a dish
And chuck it down a cliff.
So I could climb to the top
And then flop
on my back and sleep.
One day I said
To my stupid head
Im going to do it, today Ill climb the SBT.
I went and started climbing the tree
Against the pleas
my brain.
Oh please dont go higher
Dont you tire
Of climbing so high.

The voices were just a distraction
And were just a fraction
Of the problems I was facing.
My one hand was sleeping
And fear was creeping
Down my throat.
The number of grips had become less
And I was wondering how I got myself into such a mess
Climbing this stupid tree.
The I looked down
And then found
The earth 15 or so metres below me.
Oh my god!
Oh great lord!!
Why did I do this?

I looked up and saw
Few branches and then I told myself, This is the last straw
I am going to climb this tree I dont care what.

I had very little to go
And then Lo!
I had done it.

After this achievement, my fear of heights
Got such a fright
That it ran away from my heart.

Karan Pratap

An Accident

When I was a 4
th
grader I had a shocking experience which now is down the Rishi Valley
history. It all started when I was playing a game of run and catch. (A game in which you
catch other) While playing I climbed up a tree when Aravind (Achu) was the denner.
Unfortunately he was expert at climbing trees. There were two ways of climbing up and
down the tree. So I started climbing down the tree But then he started to climb up the tree
the way I was coming down. I tried the other way but got the same fate. I tried one more
time but slipped and fell from 10-12 feet high. My head hit a hard rock. I was bleeding
profusely. All the people who saw this were in a state of shock. Mini akka scooped me me
and ran to the RV hospital where I got seven stitches and I left for Bangalore with
Sreekumari Akka and Karthik Sir. In the ambulance Dr. Karthik called my mother to come to
Bangalore. They were constantly talking to me because they couldnt risk me falling
asleep. When we reached the hospital in Bangalore I met my cousin who works for Infosys.
The doctors were friendly and they took me for a CT scan. After the scan I was told nothing
had happened to me. My mother arrived at that point of time the people who came ate
their dinner at 12:00. We reached RV at 3:00 . My mother and father stayed with and
everybody came to visit me. I still appreciate that a lot.

Aditya Chhaya
Taking Notes!!!
Biography
"Here you go thats all, no more!" said Sita Akka as she finished giving me my notebooks
and stationary for the year. There were lots more notebooks than I had in 5
th
. Anyway, while
I was carrying the bundle to class I dropped my English notebook on the way. Suddenly
instead of a thump I heard something cry out in pain "ouch! Help me!" First I thought it was
my imagination but then the notebook started talking to me "Praveena please help me!"
still startled I picked up the book and without a word walked to class. After writing out
name, class, subject and house on our books we were allowed to go home. But I didnt,
instead I waited till the class was clear and grabbed my English notebook. For sometime I
was dumbfounded, but the silence was broken by my whispering". Hey English notebook
you are to be quiet at classes and should not speak to anyone else but me. If you keep your
promise we can be great friends." I promised him. Since then he has not spoken to anyone
but me and we have been great friends. If you PROMISE to not breath a word about it I will
let him introduce himself to you and also share a few feelings with you.

Autobiography

Hello everybody! I am Praveenas English Notebook. My name is Hardy. I got my name
because of my hard bound cover. My cover has green floral designs on it. I have 200 pages
inside me out of which 100 are plain and 100 are ruled. Actually I need to look like that but
now she had stuck A4 sheets on either side. Then on my front side she has put a few soft
animal stickers and has drawn insects beside them Honestly I look I think I look quite
handsome!! At first I didnt want to be sold out because I thought they would make me
work hard. Naturally when she bought me I felt very nervous to start a new life away from
my family. But soon I made good friends with the pencil pen and the other notebooks and
text books. On 28
th
the Monday she used me for the first time. She copied down the Fox
story and drew a picture too. Though she uses me less frequently than the other English
notebook, when she uses me for writing long pieces of stories, essays, prose, reports, etc.
Now I love being her notebook. I know a lot about her as she writes real-life incidents in
me. I have many pals and I love this place. My days go on like that. I have days of happiness,
sorrow , worries, fights and enjoyment with her. We both like each other a lot. I just hope
I will be with her as long as one lives end!

Praveena N S

My lovable brother and Me

He is always there at home waiting for me when I get back from school. He supports me
when we are in an argument with my parents. No matter how mad I make him he does not
generate the same attitude towards me. My other brother nick-named him The Bear. We
gave him this name because of not only his height and width, but, like a bear, he hibernates
in his bed during the day and only gets up when there is a meal. Even if all of us try to wake
him from his chamber of slumber he does not budge an inch from his soft and warm bed.
One night I stayed up late, past my parents bedtime, and snuck into his snoring heaven. To
my surprise I found him on the computer researching some word I could not pronounce at
the time. He looked straight at me with his tree brown eyes. I thought for sure he would
send me back to my room to go to sleep. Instead, he gets up and picks up a board game and
asks me if I want to play.
All I could do was stand there, mouth gaping, and stare at him in amazement. I guess he
understood my look and, after a bit, said, "Ill take the blue." We played well into the night
but after sometime I fell asleep in his comfortable chair.
I awoke up in the morning only to find him STILL asleep, back again in his cozy bed. He is not
only my eldest brother, he is also a role model, not just to me but to my middle brother as
well. He went to the Rennaissance for his childhood schooling and also the Rishi Valley
School and so we have followed in his footsteps. He explains things to me that no one else
can. He gives me examples to help me solve the problems.
He is great brother to me, my friends and my middle brother. You can find another brother
like him. He is unique in his own way. Even though he is greatly good, he too, like
everyone else, has a bad side. When he is studying for a test he is serious and does not
appreciate it when we intrude upon his room. If he catches us, at such times he gives us a
look. This special look in his eyes says that we should very soon leave the room. This is, of
course, a small black mark on a white page of his overall personality. He is my oldest
brother Ramanath and I like him.

Ranganath , class 7

The Unique One

If you want to meet a person who is kind, is honest, cracks many jokes, is quite good at
studies and has improved a lot in football then you might never find a person like the one
I am talking about. Manjeeth is a very good friend to have. He has been in the same houses
and classes I have been in for the last two years, so I know him pretty well. He is of average
height, is slightly plump and his skin is of a dark complexion.
When Manjeet came as fresher last year no one thought he would fit into the school. He
was one very-very homesick boy. At the beginning of the day he might have been all right
but then after that he would cry everywhere. The houseparents house, class, games
everywhere. But since then he has improved a lot. He rarely cries now and has settled
down well.
Manjeet also used to get teased quite a lot last year and I have to agree that sometimes I
have teased him too. In the end then after he had settled down, it took a lot of time for the
teasing to finally stopped. When Manjeeth had settled down properly he had also become
a really good friend. He lent things, entertained people and played a lot. He was so jolly
now that you wouldnt believe he had ever been homesick.
Manjeeth is good in studies. He is one of the only people I have seen who writes in a very
slanting handwriting. He asks the most brilliant questions to teachers in almost all classes
and clarifies his doubts almost as soon as he gets them. Since he has learnt abacus he is very
fast in calculating oral sums in maths.
In sports I have somethings to say about him. In football he has improved a lot. He has
become much better as a forward. He is one of the few people in our class who went for
tennis coaching and is better than many people in tennis. In badminton Manjeeth is the
number one yappercase. He yaps so much youd think hed do noting but yap for the rest of
his life. Agreed he is good in badminton but he yaps so much everyone would think he is
awesome. He also gets beaten. When he gets beaten he keeps challenging the same
person to another match and keeps getting beaten. But on the whole Manjeeth is very
sporting and has a lot of team spirit.
Manjeeth eats a lot when it comes to eating. He keeps saying "Akka this Kaawali", "Akka
that kaavali". If someone wants something from his plate I can bet you his reply will be
what will you give me for it? On the other side of eating when he has to buy tuck he buys
nothing. I daze anyone to break his record of not buying eatables from the tuck for years.
Manjeeth though a good boy has some bad habits. He keeps saying bah, are beta, beta
and are beta. He even says to girls. Whenever any teachers points out anything bad
which he did he acts like a baby and says Nooooo Akka or Noooo sir and raises his hands.
He sometimes get very irritating and at times he keeps bugging a person to no end.
Manjeeth is also scared of many different types of things. He is scared of the dark, ghosts,
robbers and getting fat. This is the funniest thing of all. He is scared of promising?
Promises really scare him. One time when he promised Roopika Akka something by
mistake he just burst into tears.
Overall, Manjeeth is a good friend to have though sometimes he might start crying for a
small thing or get a little too irritating. Most of the times he is jolly and fun to be with.

Manan, Class 7

Roller Skating Down the Boardwalk*
Roller skating down the board walk,
Speeding here and there,
Turning at the dunking booth,
Going towards the fair.

Purple wheels going round and round,
Gliding down the walk,
Bumping over every plank,
As if they could talk.

Skating past the jewellery stall.
Glittering bright as the sun,
Riding past the fishing booth,
Shoot ! My turn is done.

Rolling past a roller coaster ,
Riding past the ferris wheel,
The wind blowing past my face,
I really like the feel.

Past the cotton candy stand,
Past the popcorn cart,
I inhale the sugar of a giant churro*
The aroma is like a piece of art.

I near the end of the boardwalk,
And now I can see the sea,
I take my skates off and jump right in,
I am as happy as can be.
A broadwak is a pier jutting into the sea, made of wood planks. On it, there are shops
rides, games and stalls.
A churro is a pastry made of dough in twists which is sprinkled with sugar cinnamon
sugar.
Manu Krishnamurthy, Class 7

Riding on an Antelope

Riding on an antelope
What a bumpy rickety ride
But it has a very
soft and golden hide

Many people chasing us
Were escaping from the zoo
We jump over the gate
Just like a Kangaroo

Whizzing down the highway
Dodging many cars
But soon we reach the forest
With nothing to guide us but the stars.

Panthers and owls
A very common sight
But soon were out of the forest
As soon as we see day light

Suddenly we see a huge blue mass
Its the Arabian sea
That was the only thing to show us
Wherever we may be

Thinking of the food I could have
Like vannila ice cream
Suddenly my mom wakes me up
And I find out its all a dream.
Nikhil, Ranganath and Ilamuhil
Computer Conflict
"I wont give it to you," I said calmly, sure that my sister would give up.
But I want to play on it too, you know," She said glazing angrily at me.
Let me explain to you how it started. It was Saturday so it was a holiday. It is one of my most
favourite days of the week.
It started off as a normal day. Everything was as it should been. Then I started playing on
the computer after getting ready. I was playing a game called Pokemon and this version
of it is called Dragonostone. So there I was playing happily away when after half an hour or
so my sister came in the room.
"Can I play on the computer?" She asked with a tone which was a mix of demandingness
and sweetness.
No way am I going to give here the computer I thought.
"I wont give it to you," I said calmly sure that my sister would give up.
"But I want to play on it too, you know, " she said glaring angrily at me.
"I wont budge from the seat at all," I said.
"Please" she said in a pleading tone.
"No", I said in a stern tone.
Then even though I cant believe it both of us started fighting. Every time I think of this I
feel quite bad that I started a fight with her. I just should have let her play on the computer,
I guess.
Then my mother came rushing in the room and she asked, "What happened here?"
"Manan isnt allowing me to play on the computer," cried my little sister.
"Manan youve played on the computer for enough time. Let me play now."
"OK", I said sheepishly and went out of the room and read a book.
After this we never had a flight like this and of course we became friends again.

Manan, Class 7
Srinagar
Ive never lived in Srinagar but, Ive spent most of my summer vacations over there.
Srinagar is a very beautiful place thats why it is flocked by visitors around the year mostly
in the summers.
I was born in Srinagar and my parents originate from Srinagar. My father has told me
sometimes that he wishes to be in Kashmir. He has told me stories of how he fled Kashmir
because of the revolution. Whenever I have been to Kashmir it was calm but in winters it
unbearable to walk a few steps and the only thing you can do sit inside your house with a
blanket and drink Kahwa. I have my ancestral house over there and many of my relatives
live over there.
Srinagar is one of the most popular tourist destinations. That is because it is very beautiful
place and some people admire it so much that they call it paradise on earth. It has a lot of
beautiful places like Pahalgam, and Gulmarg. They are just some great places to visit.
Srinagar is also famous for its apples, dry-fruits and carpets.
There is one more side of Srinagar which is a very violent side. There are people protesting
everyday and school colleges and offices close for weeks sometimes. There are many
people idle over there. Almost everyday there is news of someone getting killed who was
very young. There has not been peace in Kashmir valley for the past 30 years that is the
reason why my father had to leave Kashmir.
To me Kashmir seems like a paradise.
Hamad, Class 7

A Friend Who Always has a Smile

He is tall, has curly hair, is quite chinky and has pimples. He is good at football and can get
together very well with people. He eats well, is muscular and he is kind; he doesnt start of
with arguments and he helps you when you need his help. He is athletic and sportive.
I met Riggyal in 6
th
and we all used to tease him by calling him "pig" (friendly teasing). Even
now we, do. He looks cute when he is about to sleep. He likes singing hip-hop songs or rock
songs from bands. He is good at it. He is even better at Karate and martial arts. He is quite
playful also as he tried pranks on people. He never succeeds. He is very funny. He helps me
if I cant do anything. He likes looking at his body in front if the mirror.
The striking part of him is that he is honest. That is a good quality in him. He says whatever
he likes. He doesnt follow anyone and he is not scared of doing anything. Riggyal is
courageous. These are somethings I like about him.I have watched him and seen that when
someone lies he says, "Bull." He doesnt say. "Bull shit" or "shut up"He just says, " Bull".
Thats quite funny.
In football, he supports Chelsea. Right now they are 5
th
in the E.P.L (English Premiere
League). He likes football but doesnt want to be a footballer. He wants to be a... I dont
know! He actually hasnt decided what he wants to be yet.
In 6
th
he used to have a habit that he used to sing in the bathroom. It used to sound very
funny. We used to call him bathroom singer. When he mocks, he looks and sounds funny.
He is a very good friend of mine and a very good companion.
Arnesh Shuka, Class 7

The Most Kind Hearted People

I dont understand at all why people think tribals are savage. When they hear the word
Tribals savages is the first thing that comes into their minds. Just because they are dark
and not modern and things like that it doesnt mean that the are people who are
supposed to be treated in a different way. But when you go and talk to the people who live
in those small villages you will realize that they are in fact much more sweet and generous
people you can find anywhere else. They treat everyone and every thing equally. Instead
of getting new and artificial things they make the most of everything which is available.
They worship nature and animals They kill animals but at the same time try to pursue
them. At least to me they are people who truly have kind hearts. And I am proud to say that
my parents help some of them to get their rights. I feel lucky to have studied with the tribal
children and they are my friends.
Prakruti , Class 7

The City of Leh-Ladakh

I was born here with extreme temperatures and have lived with the mountains. I was
brought up in a cold desert and got used to the environment.
Leh-Ladakh is mostly populated by Buddhists but now even a few Kashmiris and Punjabis
consider it their home. It can be freezing at night and hot in the day. It doesnt have
moisture so you can still feel the cold wind blowing while the sun is shining bright. But
even so I love the place. Especially mountains. Everything about these stacks of rocks
fascinates me. The height, the feeling after climbing and the view just breathtaking.
But in winter it is as quiet as can be. Most of the people in Leh possess two houses. So in
winter they travel down to other parts of the country and return after winter. The place is
blooming with flowers at the peak of summer and my grandmoms garden looks one of the
best. Its also crowded with tourists at that time who enjoy the mountains and the hills. A
beautiful place not ever fully explored by me.
The local people there are very down to earth. But since it has a small population
everyone knows each other. So if youre going on a walk with your grandmother you are
sure to find at least one relative that youve never met before.
The river Indus flows in Ladakh and it flows to Pakistan. The river is so crystal clear at that
time. My Grandpa actually used to drink river water once upon a time. But even as clear as
it might look, people wash their clothes in it, so we dont drink from it.
Leh is not very commercial but is famous for its gems, traditional wear, Pashmina shawls
and the food. It doesnt have malls and shopping complexes. Which means its kept clean.
Very less population so you can see the sky filled with stars. It still wears traditional clothes
and mostly people hang out in Kos. Like Hindus wear kurta, its a long shirt with buttons on
the side not in the centre.
Mostly people take farming as a secondary profession because you can only farm in
summers. At Buddh Purnima all the people visit monasteries, at new year they visit each
others houses. It has a lovely community.
What I love most are the hills dry but high. Sandy but beautiful even snow capped. They
just make the world look much better.
Losang Tsetan Sadutshang, Class 7

Creamy Delight
I went to a hall,
In a great big mall,
And what do I see?
Oh! All these wonderful stalls.

I went up to one,
And found this delicious looking bun
Filled with gooey, creamy sugary fun
I threw it a glance
And went into a trance
And was tempted to buy the
Sweet fancy dream.

Cream, cream, cream
My stomach screamed,
Horrified, it said no!
Please Sikandar, this is my foe!

Give me some greens,
Give me some beans,
Give me some fruits
And some vegetable roots,
Anything but cream,
To help me stay clean.

Beans make me strong,
Nuts make me clever,
Rice, roti, brown bread for energy,
Milk I drink for my bones,
But cream!
Oh! thats so terribly wrong.

So lets set aside the junk,
And eat the healthy stuff,
A balanced diet I advocate,
full of nutrients and chocolate?

From eating disorders,
We dont want to suffer,
But only eat nutritious,
healthy and proper.

Sikandar Muqbil, Class 7
A Healthy Diet
Drink water everyday,
If you want to live and play
Vitamins & minerals in small pieces,
Will help me resist scary diseases

You should take in fats,
Or youll be skinny as bats.

Carbohydrates & Proteins in the food,
Will keep you healthy & in good mood.

A healthy diet every day,
Will help me live in a healthy way.
Nikhil Khurana class7
Harry the Weary
Once there was a man named Harry
Who had a big huge load to carry
This load was his big huge gigantic body
Because he ate foods rich in only carbohydrates and fats

One day the doctor said,
" Harry you better eat a balanced diet
And also start to exercise
Or else you will always be weary."

Losang Tsetan Sadutshang, Class 7

Food
Food is good
Food is bad
It depends on your taste
You cannot call it a waste.
Food is sumptuous,
And delicious
Halwa, puri, jalebi,
A feast fit for a king

Burgers, pizzas, macoroni
This generation loves it
Alu curry, paratha, pickle
Even Zeuswill fall for it.
Be it peasants
Be it merchants
All love fruits.
Guavas, apples, and mangoes
A basket cannot hold
these heavenly fruits.

Oh food, what food
These days have
Food descended from heaven
I love them
As I am a child
Of this generation
Ah!Burghers, Spaghetti and cake
With an astounding aroma
Burgher bars all crammed
Spaghetti with hot sauce
A good thing to snack on
Chips of every kind
Noodles of varied flavours
causes peoples mouths to water

Why do I love fatty food?
Coz it makes me feel good.
Jyotsna, Class 7
Blind
When you are an infant,
Innocent and fresh as sun-rise,
They do not see you
For you are a blank, unknowing thing.
When you are a little child,
Playful and curious as a butterfly
They do not see you
For you are naughty and stupid
When you are a teenager,
confused and insecure
They do not see you
For you are moody, rude and rebellious
When you are a young adult,
Struggling to fit into the whirlwind
of the world,
They do not see you
For you are rash, amateur and ambitious
When you are middle aged,
finally settled into life,
They do not see you
For you are boring and stressed,
Suffering from mid-life crisis
When you are ancient and bent,
Wise, calm and reflecting,
They do not see you
For you are helpless, slow and
absent-minded
When you are cold and lifeless,
They long to hear your voice,
to feel your presence
And maybe then, they see you.

Tarini Dhar Prabhu, Class 8

Pain
I came home,
Waiting for a lovely meal,
And a hearty chat,
But, all I could hear was
Shouting, screaming and yelling,
I wondered and watched helplessly.

I was in my room,
Picked up the phone,
And two voices arose
But all I could hear was

Guests came over,
We served and talked,
They left and then we talked and talked,

Time came when he was leaving,
This time I screamed,
Screamed in agony and pain.

Rukmini Swaminatha
Helpless
I saw them that day,
Taking Damini away
She screeched and screamed,
But her parents didnt move a muscle
The men just said
"She works well, youll be paid well".
I stood there helpless
Nothing I could do
I knew my turn will come soon...
In the middle of an afternoon nap,
They put Anand in a sack
They thrust few wads of cash
Right into his parents hands
And then the men said
"He works well, youll be paid well.
I stood there helpless
Nothing I could do
I knew my turn will come soon...
One day I heard my parents
Talk to some strangers
A shiver ran up my spine
I stood there still
They broke into my room
MY turn had come.
Once again I heard the men say
"She works well, youll be paid well."

Shayista

The Letter

It all began on a fine sunny morning in their village. Gangadhar, a simple farmer, had just
got a letter from his son, Ramu, and his neighbour Rangappa was reading it out to him at
breakfast. "... So you can come and visit me here in Delhi. Ive enclosed a plane tickets for
two, in case you want to bring anyone else along. Do take care on the journey. Love,
Ramu." read out Rangappa.
"How wonderful! Now you can go and see Ramu after three years ? hes been so busy, poor
thing..." said Gangadhars wife, bustling in with the idlis. "I cant come with you of course,
theres the farm to look after, and the cows ? why dont you take Rangappa along? Hes a
bachelor ? no one and nothing to tie him down..."
"Yes, Lakshmi, yes, thats just what Ill do," said Gangadhar, shooting a nervous glance at
Rangappa," yes, yes, precisely..."
Rangappa, smiled. He was glad he wasnt married. But then, there was Chintu, the goat. He
was worse than a wife. He ate shirts. And, Rangappa realised with a start, Chintu would
have to be taken on this trip to Delhi, because there was never anyone willing to keep him
for a few days... Rangappa groaned inwardly. He had a bad feeling about this journey...
And thats how they were sitting in the bus a week later, with a bundle of clothes and three
large tins of food. And a goat. As Rangappa thought, this wasnt the most auspicious way to
start ones first excursion from the village. His thoughts were interrupted by two voices.
The first was shrill and loud, and belonged to a middled-aged plump lady in the seat
opposite. "Eeehh, the goat, the goat! My sari, sari, help, help!" She shrieked. "The goats
eating my sari oh rama, Vishnu, Ganesh!" was the cry of the lady. On investigation, it was
found that Chintu had only taken a tiny nibble, and from the bottom at that, but he was still
scolded thoroughly.
The second voice was that of the conductor, asking about their trip.
"I say, never seen you on this bus before ? where are you headed? Began the conductor in
a conversational tone.
"Were going to the airport, to fly to Delhi," explained Gangadhar importantly, "My son is
working there and he wants us to visit. Have you been to Delhi? He asked.
"Me, no ? watch that goat ? Ive been to Chennai only. I went there for a wedding. So many
cars! So many people! Cities are amazing places, amazing but confusing and dangerous too.
A sharp eye and quick wrist are essential. Delhi , did you say? Ah, Delhi is a wonderful
place, so Ive heard, and ? NO!!!
For it was Chintu again, and all conversation stopped as he was caught and soundly
reprimanded for the third or fourth time that day.
Finally they reached the airport, and after a lot of arguing with the security guards, were
finally allowed to take their tin cans, bundles and goat onto the flight. But theres many a
slip between cup and lip, as they say, and there are metres and metres between a lounge
and a plane. Our cheerful group, feeling that this distance was bit excessive, marched out
in the runway, only to set off half a dozen alarms. Half an hour later, they were sent back
onto the tarmac, to board their flight.
"I dont understand," said Gangadhar, "they scolded us then, and now they tell us to go?
Chintu nibbled at the stewards spotless shoes.
"Still," remembered Rangappa, "were on our way ? to Delhi.
And they were!

Aranya Koshy, Class 9
A Good Diet
Its important to eat all the food on your plate
Whether you are healthy, weak or frail
Decide the six nutrients that rule your fate
They fight diseases that make you pale.

Dont eat too much, not too little
For thats when your life goes out of order
Eat enough to be as fit as a fiddle
You dont want to get an eating disorder

Have veggies, fruits, nuts and beans
Bread, buttermilk, eggs, and meat
Theyll make you better than even the food of a queen
A balanced diet is what you should eat.

Chhavi Mathur, Class 7

A Memory

I have always enjoyed all sorts of music and much of this interest was cultivated by my
Hindustani - music teacher Mankotia Madam in my school Amity international. We had a
choir which comprised of students from third standard to fifth and the best part was that
we got to perform in competitions in large auditoriums and win prizes.
I was in fifth standard when it was announced that our school would go for the Delhi Junior
Inter School Hindustani music competition. This was just the kind of thing Mankotia Madam
loved; to train us for an objective, to make us win trophies. The song to be performed was
quickly chosen: Hamasa Hindustan, a patriotic song which according to Mankotia Madam,
possessed an insatiable number to consume the audience and a fire which could make all
hearts swell with pride.
Practice for the competition almost invariably meant that our music classes would have to
extend beyond the usual zero period, an early morning slot reserved for miscellaneous
activities. My friend Arnav and I were chosen to do the solo introduction which meant that
we had to spend even more time than the rest of the group. Every morning Mankotia
Madam would be waiting for us in the basement music room with her electric Tampura. The
rehearsal would always begin with hoarse throats causing Mankotia Madam to recite a
string of curses under her breath. She was a very exceptionally dedicated woman and a few
loud expletives didnt hurt if you had to get things right.
As the date of the competition drew closer the rehearsals began eat away most of our class
time, something which I would have been delighted about in other circumstances. Now
however I had a great deal of anxiety and nervousness in my head; I was wondering what
a shame it would be if our choir, after so much effort put in my Mankotia Madam and
everyone of us, would come back empty handed.
On the day before the competition, we spent 7 hours in the basement room with Mankotia
Madam discussing things like stage fright and how to disguise mistake made during
performance. All of us were terribly excited and nervous but there was also this
confidence which by looking at Mankotia Madams face of knew we had the potential of get
right to the top and so did she.
The day came and we all found ourselves in a school scorpio, speeding our way to Amity
Gurgaon, a sister school of ours where the competition was being held. After-reaching we
had a quick snack and went to the large theatre where we were supposed to perform. The
size of the place was enough to make me go weak in the knees.
The competition began sharp at ten and the numerous schools began performing. Some
were great, some mediocre and some downright ugly. Our name was called and we all
nervously shuffled our way on to stage. It seemed like my heart was doing hurdles as I took
a deep breath and began to sing. As the song progressed we became more and more
confident and the outcome was nothing short of perfect (or so I have heard!). Claps
resounded in the background as we sighed with relief and got back to our seats.
Results were announced almost immediately. The second prize was awarded to D.P.S R. K
Puram. Before the announcement of the first prize there was a pause (one which I really
hated) and when they said our schools name I went dizzy. I dizzily collected the trophy and
received thunderous claps form every where. That was the level of exhilaration passing
through me then, I just briefly remember thinking, it was all because of Mankotia Madam.
That was one of the best moments in my life.

Yashaswi Mohanty, Class 9

The Match
Living in a family which had produced magnificent chess players for generations, it was
natural that I would have a passion for the game. Both my parents had played chess for the
country and I intend to do as well.
So imagine my excitement when I read in the papers that a state level chess competition
was being held in a months time, for players under the age of 16. I told my father that I
wanted to participate in the tournament. His immediate reply was, yes, but he said that I
would require a lot of practice to perform well. He was sure that I had the potential of
winning the competition.
The following month was one of the most enjoyable and memorable months of my life.
Everyday I would practise with my father and mother. My mother bought me some books
containing popular openings and strategies used by players. I had to learn how to use these
to my advantage and defend against these effectively.
We also looked through some famous games played by world by world famous players. We
analysed their moves and how perfectly each move was thought out. My father told me
"every move you make must have a purpose". Do not be wasteful as it opens up gaps and
weaknesses in your game", he cautioned.
Gradually I also began to develop a style of game play. Looking at the legends of he game
and analysing their moves showed me that each of them had a style of their own. So I
decided that I would play defensively. This came naturally to me. I would build a solid
position and wait for my opponent to attack. Every attack leaves behind gaps which I would
then exploit.
Time flies when youre having fun. And soon my month of preparation was over. On the
day of the competition all of my family wished me just as luck and hoped I brought back
the trophy.
My father and mother escorted me to the hall where we would be playing. I saw lots of
nervous looking boys of my age, talking to their parents, who were comforting them,
telling them to be confident.
Soon the game began. There were 5 rounds to the finals. The crowds around me gazed at
me and my parents as we ensured the arena. When my name was called, I slowly walked
ahead and faced my opponent. We shook hands and the game began.
I tried to stay calm and play normally. Everyone around us were gazing at us. My opponent
was an ordinary player and I could beat him in the game with ease.
The next few rounds were particularly enjoyable. Nearly all my opponents were very
aggressive and rather careless while defending. I explored their weakness accurately and
won with considerable ease. My mothers teaching was really paying off. I was very happy
with myself.
It wasnt long before I reached the finals. My parents congratulated me and advised me so
be careful in the finals. They had seen my opponent play and he was technically sound, not
very easy to beat. They were right. My opponent in the finals was called Ram Kumar. I had
met him before in an inter-school meet. He was genuinely good. He too had won all his
previous games straight and proved to be challenging opponent.
I played in my normal defensive fashion. He too was rather defensive, not taking any
initiative to attack. He left no gaps in his defense and was rather frustrating. So I took the
initiative and attacked. This came as a surprise and after long hours of disparate defending
his walls collapsed. I had won!!
When the trophy was presented to me I was overjoyed!! All my hard work had payed off.
Back at home everyone congratulated me for my achievement. They said I would become
a world champion some day. I had no words to say. I grinned through it all. I was on top of
the world!

Arpan Banerjee, Class 9

Krishna Brothers

"Tring, Tring...," the cycle bell rang. It was Lalu, the postmaster, who had come to give me a
letter. I looked at the letter carefully. My heart beat rose. There was a sudden pause. I
looked at the postmaster. He looked at me. I asked him to read the letter out to me. He
said, "This letter is from Amul Dairy Group asking me to come to their company, for
teaching their fellow students how to milk goats." I took a deep breath and asked Lalu
where the Amul Milk complex was located. He said it was located in Mumbai. I asked him
how would I get there.
Suddenly something fell out of the letter. It was a ticket Lalu bent down and put his hand
on his back for support and picked up the ticket. Lulu wore his spectacles and stared at it.
The ticket said Rama Krishna Makanwala and there was another ticket with no name
printed on it. Lalu continued reading the letter with anxiety, after a while he was done. He
looked at me and said, these two tickets are for you and your assistant. They havent
printed your assistants name. If you want you can take Balakrishna with you."
I said, "Isnt he too young to go with me to Mumbai. "
The postmaster had nothing to say about this because he didnt want to engage in their
family matter. I thought to myself about taking my brother to Mumbai. Finally I had decided
to take him with me.
Next morning, a phone call came. It was a manly voice. He said that he is from Amul milk
group and wants to know who I was taking as my assistant. I told that Balakrishna, my
younger brother would go with me. I asked him how he got to know my phone number. He
said that Lalu the postmaster had given it to him.
The phone call shortly ended, I called my brother. I told him about this whole incident and
asked him if he wanted to come with me. He was very happy. He said that he would love to
come with me. Our flight was next day. I started packing in the night . I had packed a rope,
some butter and a few milk kettles . My brother shaved his beard and brought out his new
pair of banyan and dhothi.
Next day we got up early and got ready to catch the flight. We went to the airport. People
glared at us. We entered the airport. We didnt have any luggage. There was a man who was
sent from airport authority to help us. We went to the security check in . They didnt allow
us inside the lounge because we were taking a goat with us. A lot of police officers came
and told us that we werent allowed to take the goat inside.
Meanwhile, I saw a man going inside the lounge with dog I pointed at him. I asked them if
it was not injustice to let man with dog enter the lounge . A huge amount of people
supported me. The airport authority couldnt do anything. They let us in. There was an
announcement saying that we had to go to the plane immediately.
We took out milk kettle and waked towards the plane. On the the way, a policeman with
a Walkie -talkie in his hand smiled at us and showed us the way to plane. We climbed up
the stairs and took our places and tied the goat to a handle. It took us two hours to reach
Mumbai. We reached Mumbai.
A man from the back came to us and asked in Hindi, If we were Krishna brothers. We said
yes and walked with him. He took us to a car waiting outside for us. From the next day we
started teaching students how to milk goats. Now after 20 years me and my brother are
world famous for our milking skills.

Jinu George, Class 9

Escaped
Ashwath could not fathom how it had happened. Not too long ago, the prisoner had been
locked up in his cell. How then, had he managed to escape? That would be typical of them,
he mused. They found it sadistically amusing, watching him get into trouble with his boss.
He sighed, and rubbed his forehead. If he told them off, theyd complain to his boss. If he
didnt tell them off ? hell!the boss would still hear from them. Ashwath Gulati did not fear
many people, but his boss terrified him. Oh! He adored her, but it was never a good idea to
get her mad.
Shaking his head to bring himself back to the situation at hand, he looked around the cell.
There was food and water scattered around. Stupid Prisoner! If he had to go, what was the
need to leave his cell looking like a bomb site? He felt around the floor of the cell. Maybe
hed find a loose stone, like Edmond of Monte Cristo. The cell floor made a hollow tapping
sound, and he groaned. He had found a trap door. A small one, but a trapdoor nonetheless.
Now he was irate. A trapdoor! Somebody had definitely been helping him, and he would
bet his salary it was Pranjal and Ankita. How would he tell Prakriti that her pet rat had
escaped aided by her younger brother and sister? She would never (not in a million years)
believe him. He could hear her saying, "Ashu, I am extremely disappointed in you. You let
Chunchu get away. I hope your silly prisoner ideas..." and she would go on. Pranjal and
Ankita would snigger in a corner at their brother in laws crestfallen expression
(crestfallen because their sister had refused to cook for him for a week).
He heard the front door bang shut. It was time to tell his wife that the prisoner had
escaped.

Aradhana Verma, Class 9

My Mothers Influence on Me

My mother has influenced me in many ways. She has influenced me to be hardworking
which I think is very important for anyone. I am influenced by her because she always
seems to be doing very hard work. My mother doesnt get any time for herself. If you ask
her favourite past time, she would say that she doesnt get any free time.
My mother is a very strong and hard working woman. She has to be because she works in
the Police Department. She puts her mind, heart and soul into her work. As a result, she is
always praised by the other staff and the DSP. She works before she goes to work in the
police station. She works after she comes back from the police station. She has to work in
the house. Since she is the only head of the house, she has to take care of the house. She is
the owner of the house, but she is also the worker.
I watch my mother working hard and I think that I should also work hard. It influences me.
Although my mother does all the work in the house, and also works outside, she doesnt
ever show that she is tired. She never shows that she wants to be rid of us. That also
influences me. I never want to give up. Even when I am exhausted and irritated I never
want to give up. One other thing that she has taught me is that after all the hard work one
has to be happy. You should be happy and try to make others happy. You should not show
off or praise your own self for all the hard work you have done.
This has had a great impact on me. I started working hard in my studies. I am always ready
to take up a challenge. Even if I dont achieve anything, I keep trying my best in everything
I do. My results have begun to improve a lot over the year. I thank my mother with all my
heart for the influence she has on me.
Pratima Kumari, Class 9

My Brother
Everyone has someone whom they idolize, whom they want to be like when they grow up,
whether its a sports person or a relative. Children get easily influenced by people they live
with ? either their close relatives or their parents.
I was influenced by my brother, Shashank Srinivasan. He is an environmental scientist and
is ten years older to me. He has worked on various issues ? extinction, protection of
animals. He manages to balance his life between his work and enjoyment, somehow
managing to do both at he same time. He has travelled around the whole of India, and has
also travelled abroad on work.
I began to feel his influence over me when I was around ten or eleven, when I realised
what sort of work he was going to spend the rest of his life doing. Till then, I thought
growing up was about working somewhere and earning a lot of money. I thought that life
was all about that. But then, my brother was going to work as an environmentalist, a job
which is really productive, but one that doesnt give you much money. My brothers mind
was set. Initially, my parents were against his decision, but then they realised that he was
going to enjoy what he was doing even though he wouldnt get as much of a salary as my
father.
When I was small, my brother used to help me with my homework. He would tell me about
environment and all its problems. Initially, I was forced into sitting and listening to his
lectures because my mother wanted me to know about the world. But later on, I became
used to listening to him talk, and soon, I was eager for his lectures, which were basically
about the world and its issues. Then he decided to be an environmentalist and has been
having all the fun in the world.
When I grow up, I have not decided what I would like to become, but I ve realised that it
does not matter how much I earn as long as I have fun doing my work.
Kanishk Srinivasan, Class 9
A Question of Equality

Since as long as I can remember, Ive always had an innate belief, an axiom that I took for
granted, for it seemed so perfect it could not help but be true; I believed that, one way or
the other, everyone was equal in their capabilities.
This, while it may not appear so on first impression, is a rather powerful idea. What it
means is that I may be excellent at academics, good at art and poor at sports and someone
else maybe a genius at making good friends, fantastic at charming teachers and abysmal at
thinking up jokes, but in the end, the two of us are equal. Our skills and strengths may be in
different fields, but in the immense spectrum of experiences, challenges, strengths and
weaknesses that is life, we are both equally capable of achieving greatness.
Recently, I was introduced to a contrasting idea that gripped me tight and has never let go
off me since. The idea was almost elegant in its simple contrast to my axiom of equality
and can be best expressed as everyone isnt equal. Initially, the idea was far too
frightening, so I simply ignored it. Gradually, I began to come to terms with it. It was still
very frightening, but I picked up the courage to explore this villain of naivety and its
implications.
I have often seen people (including my self) as simply not been as endowed as others ? less
capable than others. I always comforted myself with my dear faith in equality by thinking
that surely these people have hidden potential waiting to be discovered that will being
them to the same level as the rest and as capable as every one of them. The purpose of life
was to realise your full potential and unleash all your capabilities onto the world, or so I
imagined.
This new demonic idea, champion of inequality, implied that, well if a person appears less
endowed, maybe he is. Maybe some people are more capable than others. Why was this
idea such a blow to me? I cannot say. But I have come up with a solution to soothe my
troubled mind. I realized that the foundation of my belief in the equality of everyone was
my underlying belief that everyone is equally entitled to greatness. As I explored the idea
that everyone neednt be equal, I began to think that it wasnt so very natural that
everyone was entitled to the same trophy of greatness. Greatness, I concluded, was a
phony word. Every ones greatness is his own; there is no common greatness. Life is but a
quest to use what you have been given to become as much as you can, and if you have
realised this, (here I quote Rudyard Kipling), yours is the world and everything in it, my
son!

Aravind Prashant Gollakota, Class 10

Not Such a Perfect Day After All
We were all commenting on how it was an unusually bright day on the dining table as we
leisurely ate our breakfast. Even the awful Tuesday idlis and sambar tasted surprisingly
good! It wasnt one of those ice-bitten cold mornings nor was it an uncomfortably hot one,
it was a perfect blend of both, best suited to me. The least fact yet, was that the fear of the
Economics exam in a few hours, wasnt eating me up! So we were all sitting, without a care
in the world, enjoying our Rishi Valley Tuesday breakfast and commenting on how today
didnt feel like the first day of our second series Examination.
After our rarely delicious breakfast, we carried on slowly to the Assembly hall enjoying the
brilliance of the perfect amount of sunlight on us. At the senior school assembly hall we
were pleasantly surprised to find out that it was Gieve Patels poetry assembly. Now one
would have to be as ignorant as rock to not know Gieve Patel and his excellent Rishi Valley
poetry assemblies! We all sat down on the neatly spread mats and waited for everyone to
settle down so that the assembly could start.
The assembly ended with an excellent poem by Bavatarak which was like a bright red
cherry to the perfect assembly. On our way to class we were all having quite a colourful
discussion on all our favourite poems. Mine was "OK, Ill down it!" by Rinchen and how my
favourite word was "Lady!" when I saw Sir standing by the doorway of our classroom.
I was quite happy to see him , till I realised that I was wearing my rubber slippers and that
he was looking straight down at my feet with an annoyed expression. Not wanting a dark
patch on my perfect day I quickly turned around, handed my books over to my friends and
headed in the opposite direction. I quickened my pace, but was still quite relaxed for its
not uncommon to get caught wearing rubber slippers in Rishi Valley and definitely not
uncommon for me. But my air of relaxation quickly disintegrated, when Kaya, my friend
called me and told me with a petrified expression clouding her face that he was calling me.
My nonchalant attitude was quickly replaced with one of fear.
I walked towards Sir with what I thought was an apologetic face, but it clearly proved be not
effective enough. His fierce eyes pierced straight into mine and said, "Go back home and
change your disgusting footwear! And dont ever look at me and walk away like that again
or else you are going to have to face serious consequences!" I didnt have to be told twice
to leave as fast as I could.
It was the first time he was ever scolding me in person. I had seen him scold others and
heard him scold all of us, but never had I looked into these brown eyes when he was in a
temper and never ever had I stood alone to face him while he scolded me alone! It might
have been a matter of two minutes, but at least to me it felt like two years. I might have
been standing amongst a whole school of people, but to me it felt like it was just the two of
us face to face on a stage. There might have been millions of voices talking there, but to me
it was just his icy voice like shards piercing though me.
Till then I had only heard of his anger! Those two minutes were enough to ruin the next
two days for me.
Rhea K, Class 10
A Tale of Two Brothers

That badly white washed buildings that youll see when you walk down the pot-holes
roads of Attur, a small insignificant town in southern Tamilnadu are not very old. In fact the
proud shop owner in the small tin shop opposite the house will say that its only two years
old. Its rough white walls are now caked in mud and reek somehow of bovine urine.
Arumugam knew that the building was built by some rich man who had come to the town
three years ago and gave a long speech about the greatness of our state. It was around the
time when other people dressed in new white veshtis had gone around giving us flag of
some sun rising over a hill. Well thats how they decided to build our school. A whole year
later when the construction was almost complete they came around giving all the children
a white shirt , a pair of brown shorts and a new slate. My! how proud Arumugam was of
that uniform!
But everyday as he would run to school you could see a streak of guilt that swiped his face.
He would tell only his friend Arul why. When the school was built his father had decided
that one of the children had to study to make the family prosper. So Ramakrishnan his
elder brother had to go to Sivakasi to work day and night in a cracker factory to give
Arumugam his schools meagre fees. Arumugam had been heart broken that time when
Ramakrishnan had returned for pongal. His hands where all chaffed and his hair was
graying at the age of fifteen. He wanted to run out and play with his brother like they used
to in the old days, but Ramakrishnan couldnt run anymore.
And for that reason Arumugam hated school. If you were to go there on a usually Sunny
Tuesday morning you could see him ducking out of school, through the back fence near that
hand pump that never worked. His parents didnt know about it but Arumugam stole out of
the school . Only the older boys in those dusty flea ridden streets knew that Arumugam
did. Only they would see him running along beating his old source of happiness.
Where Arumugam really spent his time was by the gutter playing with Arul. Seeing whose
palmyra leaf would flow faster in that gutter with its thick black water, occasionally getting
stuck in womens hair that was grayed by the old nasty shampoo sachets that they used. He
loved beating Arul in their bicycle-wheel beating races near the dusty Murugan Temple.
He liked jumping into the putrid, green water of that temple tank where the more
beautiful of the religious town girls bathed. He waited for the days when he would chase
stray buffaloes with his tamarind stick and the days when stray dogs chased him for trying
to steal their puppies.
But in the day when he sat quietly with Arul and his bicycle wheel in the quietness of that
pongamia tree near the river watching a sobbing sun set over this dirty, disgusting town all
he felt was sorrow.
Piteous sorrow! Would days ever get brighter for him? Would Ramakrishnan ever come
back? There was no one to answer Arumugams question.
Abhay, Class 10
Wet Fire Set Me Free

My body rejected sleep one night,
Wanting not, that sweet bliss of dreams.
My feet carried me away,
Away into the wood.

Twas a full moon, and breezy,
I rejected objection;
Alas! Oh Alas!
For I soon came to regret it.

I trudged on, somewhere, nowhere,
In a drunken swoon.
My feet, bare, upon the bare earth;
On and on.

The ground was littered,
Stiff yellow leaves,
Crackling under my feet.
The naked trees, winced
As their garments crumbled.

The trees gathered close,
Their gnarled limbs,
Blotted out the moon, in vengeance;
A quest of darkness, crept in with the wind.

So dark, so dark, eyesight futile,
Senses sharp;
The extraction of my soul,
Commenced.

In the never ending darkness,
The silent assassins moved in,
Hungry for death;
I ran.

I ran ahead, the warm comfort of
A home, forgotten.
I ran ahead, as the abyss of doom,
Closed in on me.

In the nothingness, a glint of light,
A glimmer of hope,
But the forest was reluctant
To let go.

The crooked spines, tore at my flesh
Blood, quenched the parched earth.
A jerk in their pursuit, and I broke free,

My desperate being,
Reached out towards the light.
A slender, wet hand,
Glistening in its own light,
took mine.

The loving touch of life,
Set ablaze my consciousness,
And brought it forth.
I was free.

My soul catapulted away,
The sweet joy of freedom,
Powered me through the gnarled ones,
Through the sky, and into the stars.

I left my body lying somewhere,
Nowhere,
Clutching a slender wet hand,
Glistening in its own light.

Rishiraj Rajashi Ramaswamy, Class 10

Free Writing
My English teacher walks around, enforces silence ??" as determined as Hitler in
genocide, She comes close, like Hitler, in succeeding, but never officially does. As the class
is intent except for the wobbling of tables, the whispering of restless students the,
heavenly fan and the claps of people in the attempt to exterminate mosquitoes from
the planet. She silently gets down to her own work, unaware of the thought buzzing in all
of our heads. In our minds there is pandemonium, caused by confusion what are we
supposed to do?
Then, we get down to our books and lay our pens on the paper (although it is not exactly
what she meant), and put our hands on our foreheads, still in the state of confusion we
look around, see whether anyone knows what to do, and when we realize that other
people are intently doing it, we wonder why we cant. Since we cant and dont want to do
it, we search for a loophole. Only if something could save us from this mess. Then, an
epiphany, and he has a stroke of genius. His plan goes into action, he distracts other
people, and Voila!, the teaches reacts just as expected: Ikram, please go out. Mission
success. Blissful freedom to look forward to sitting outside in the open air, with the nature
and light chatter of the senior school, and no work to be done. Blissful indeed.
A strange paradox of life: what you enjoy, it harms you, what you dislike, it does you good.
Medicine is bitter, soft drinks are sweet. To study is beneficial, to procrastinate is
dangerous. Smoking, drinking and drugs are addictive, but generosity, kindness, and
honesty are not. Life is a game of survival, where one is against all odds. The more you try
to be good, the more it will pull you towards doing evil. Life is a black hole. When you cross
a point, there is no way you can escape from the vicious cycle of evil. In the end, it kills you
in the most torturous manner, breaks you, rips you apart piece by piece.
Suket Karnawat, Class 11
Money is the Root of all Evil?
A few thousand years ago, our ancestors recognized something important, t ??? they said
???Anything in excess leads to ruin ??" anything, including money. Money is not the root
cause of all evil. All objects are merely tools ??" none of them have an inherent nature.
Ultimately, it is the self which is responsible for actions, be they good or evil.
Objects have no inherent nature. Whether they are considered good or evil depends upon
perception. Is a knife evil? A Cook and a potential murderer each look at it differently. A
knife is an instrument in our hands and so is money. It cannot cause evil for it makes no
decisions of its own. You can let it lead you to ruin or you can let it lead you great good. You
can use money to get yourself addicted to drugs, or you can use money to give somebody
a life.
When a murder is committed, it is neither the knife nor the hand that is arrested, but the
man responsible, the doer. Ultimately the doer is responsible for his actions, therefore,
whether money is a cause for evil is determined by he who is responsible for wielding it.
When there is a court case for money-laundering for example, the judge considers the
criminal responsible, and not the money involved.
As objection raised might be that circumstances force decisions, that one did what one
could surely have done in the situation ??" that the self is not responsible, in short.
However in this case, as much responsibility rests upon money as upon the self, this being
none. Thus if the self cannot be held responsible, neither can money.
Money, therefore, is not the root cause of all evil. It is surely the self and perhaps fate
which are responsible for any evil. I would advocate that all humans grow acres of
diamonds and put them to good use.
Hamsini Sukumar, Class 11
Money is the Root Cause of all Evil
Humans have existed on this planet for over two hundred thousand years. As a species,
homo sapiens have evolved from hunter-gathers to what we are now - money ??" makers.
Today, the modern society is driven by the urge to make more and more money. Behind
every transaction, every individual has the vested interest of making a large profit. Society
tends to evaluate people based on their wealth and property, rather than other nobles
qualities.(Unfortunately, the flip-side is that money can help one purchase anything is
this greedy world.) Thereby, I claim that money is the root cause of all evil.
There are two fundamental problems with money. Firstly we depend on it to a large
extent. Even though its just paper and has no intrinsic value, the real value is felt while
making a purchase. Secondly, a universally accepted notion regarding money is - the
more, the better. In todays market economy, these two problems are thoroughly
exploited. Every firm produces its goods just for the sake of making profits. Thus, no
concern whatsoever, is given to the quality of the commodity produced. In market terms,
this phenomenon is known as Obsolescence. Manufacturers tend to produce their
products in such a way that it deteriorates rapidly. This is done so that consumers are forced
to replace these products with new ones. As a result, firms expand their profits
exponentially by maximizing sales. For instance, take the example of the mobile
industry. Today, Practically three out of five people in the world own mobile. Interestingly,
they keep replacing old cell phones with new ones. This is primarily due to two reasons.
Firstly, since new products are being launched every now and then, people want to be up
to date. Secondly, in the case of mobiles land money other electronics. Some small, yet in
integral part of the gadget is made of poor quality. As a result, it degenerates very quickly.
Also, its never available anywhere in the market. Thus, consumers are forced to make yet
another purchase. Thus we see how the profit-oriented industrialists, who crave to make
more money, exploit customers by providing poor quality goods that become obsolete in
no time.
Another reason why money is the root of all evil in society in that most people tend to
evaluate others based on their property and wealth rather than their qualities, Even in
school today, children try and indirectly inquire about a newcomers family wealth and
whether or not he/she lives in a posh locality, rather than asking him/her about their
hobbies and interests. Similarly, in the late twentieth century in France, diamond and
other precious stone sellers used to closely examine the attire of their customers before
letting them in. A silk shirt and a golden fabric tie would mean a free entry whereas
unbranded and non-aristocratic clothes would spell out a blatant EXIT . Thus, we see how
society evaluates others based on money, Yet again, money happens to be the root of all
evil.
The third and final reason I shall give to support my argument is the popularly talked topic
about corruption. The word corruption resonates among our bureaucratic politicians.
Most of them eat up half the money for which is actually meant funds for the growth and
welfare of the poor. Their craving for money is unparalleled. They make heartless promises
and distribute hundred rupees to every household just for the sake of a vote. Once in
power, they exploit their position and these promises obviously remain unfulfilled. A very
recent example of this is that of the commonwealth games. India had voluntarily agreed to
host the games. Eight years ago the budget of the whole project was declared to be 700
core rupees. However, a month before the games presumed, the Nehru Stadim stood
unfinished and the expenditure was extended to a staggering 40000 crore rupees. Its
unknown as to where the funds have vanished but the money, which happens to be a very
large amount, hasnt been used for any productive purpose, but has instead, almost
certainly, filled the pockets of ???Mr??? Kalmadi and his fellow associates here again.
We see how the humans desire for money results in inefficient governments (especially in
India) and appalling levels of corruption. It seems as though every decision, made by us is
determined by the profit that one makes out of it .
Now, the very popular objection to the arguments stated above is that in case of a health
disorder, money is essential to save ones life. People who think so believe that wealth can
buy health too. However, it isnt really so. Its time that money is necessary if one wishes to
undergo an operation. Nevertheless, this doesnt imply that we care for more and more
money. This greedy approach actually makes one feel further insecure. The increasing
dependency on money has proven to cause various kinds of psychological disorders,
ranging from depression to insomnia, studies from the Neurological survey of Amsterdam
have shown. In other words, being satisfied of your income and being cheerful ensures
better mental and physical health rather than possessing a villa and flaunting your wealth
( which results in a dissatisfied and disconsolate life).
To conclude, the superfluous importance given to money leads to various problems like
corruption, differentiation in society (based on wealth), poor mental health and
exploitation of consumers in markets (to make profits). Thus, due to these reasons, I am
convinced that money is the not of all evil.
Tarun Sharma, Class 11
Flipping through a Poets Note Book...
Strange how a thing like rain should be mud soaking, coat drenching
Oceans rise to the sky and slush into the ground cumulus clouds,
Large, vast, watchful and white,
Dissipate as mist, thin drizzle,
or the silence of the morning fog.

Through the streets, dim lit lamps
Roads glistening wet
From a last nights shower, the air damp and soggy,
Prolongs the sleepy hour. A new sheet,
Coll and clear is cast upon the waking city

From a breath of lofty giants in the sky. An accidental cycle,
It seems, for small talk on the weather,
The dew on a petal,
A trickle down the misting window
As you sit up, ;look out, hazy and dim,,

At the washed new world that still, after centuries of rain,
Stirs a thought, a smile; a few loose words.

Hookey
At the end of the year, slim books get heavy. The pages
Turn to lead: visited often, scrawled on and soiled, the most elegant prose
May go stale and dry. Minds, perhaps, are made to get bored;
Voices of the classroom grow familiar tones,
Dustbins and eyes turn empty and vacant,

Walls seem to lean in, suspiciously close; as though
Living here too long would cave us in. May be then
Well rise from the rubble, like weeds and wild flowers; growing awkward,
Sprawling in the new sun. Maybe well know then,
How sloe time turns in the bones of ruin; For so much
Has been lain to waste in hours and days untouched by the idleness.

Of playing hookey in the sun. Looking back,
So much was lost

Of a world suffused with light,
And the gold Savannahs of time left unkilled.

******

Stars whiz whir
glimmer and glint sparkle as the
moon climbs,

The moon sets, a cough of dust
Orange sheen clinging for the white touch,
The strange phosphorous orb in the sky.

Mist is brown, the light
Purple. Dark weeds just, uncertain, grappling and reaching
Into the void, this ancient heady air
of a world that changes, with so frail a thing
As light? Come, see, grope and grieve
At the centuries of empty windows, undusted and dangling
By rusty hinges, feeling only the sway and brush of silver rays,

do they know what is, what follows?
What once were hands and mirrors,
screws and nails, o r waiting eyes that rummaged the clouds,
A purpose beneath the silent dust
to be?

Or a forgotten moon
to gaze from the sky, watchful of a world now hung,
somewhere, uncertain of a past that sits soft, glowing,
moth light in the sky.

**********

The sunlight is soft and paling. It spreads
Across the walls in the sweep of long, honey dipped fingers. Abandoned books
Forgotten scraps of scribbling,
idle on the floor, shrugged off; the shelves
sigh, relieved, They get up and stretch; they yawn,

And watch the flushed day creep, weary and red,
Into the dust.

********


Someone has lifted a rim of the sky
And peers under it. The trees are grim monsters at night; the road ahead
Shrinks and crumbles into darkness.
Mustafa, Class 12

The Beginning of the End
Everyone is sad when great warriors die. Hundreds of thousands of people throng the
streets, crying as they see the body of the brave and courageous man, who fought for them
with heart and soul. But here is another story of something else. It had been there forever!
That lovely, huge, shady tamarind tree. When I was born, there it stood beside my house.
I was sure it would be there when I died too!
I grew up with it, every summer, hundreds of fat brown tamarinds would appear on it. My
friends and I would climb up the tree, along with sugar, salt and chilly powder, and eat
tamarinds, till our tongues were sore, our stomachs hurt, and our throats stung.
That tree was my favourite tree out of all the ones in the neighbourhood. It was the biggest
and the shadiest. It had the perfect hiding places when you didnt want to go home. The
best part was its cracks, roots, bark everything! They were positioned in the perfect
way for a person to climb up.
We even tried building a tree-house on it once. Thankfully (for the tree, and for us) it
didnt work out, we took pieces of wood, and we were equipped with hammer, nails etc.
But then, the branch which we were on, suddenly started creaking, and we scampered
down the tree. That night, I heard an almighty crash! And when I ran out, I couldnt see
anything .
The next morning, we went out, and saw the branch we had been planning to build the
tree-house on, on the ground. My friend and I started laughing with relief at our escape but
I had the distinct feeing something was wrong. When I went closer and examined, it looked
as if nothing was different ? the branch had fallen because of too much weight. But I knew-
I realised ? that it was getting old. That incident was, perhaps, the beginning of the end.
We played on it, the next few summers, just like we had before. We would clamber up and
settle down in our favourite positions, and read books. We still ate the tamarinds . We still
laid down in the shade and slept. But all along, I think that the tree was giving out subtle
signs that its time on earth was up. More of its branches fell. Sometimes, we even thought
it had died, but then new leaves would suddenly spring up. Some summers, it did not
produce tamarinds!
The end came, sadly, when I wasnt there. I had gone to spend a week at my grandmothers
place, and when I returned, the tree was still there. It still stood where it had always been,
but some thing was different ? it looked like it was being tortured! It had ropes tied around
various parts of it. Which went in different directions. I was upset, and shocked. How
could...?
My friends told me that someone had realised that the tree had had a termite attack, and
was dead inside. That was why they were cutting it down. I was so upset I couldnt say
anything. But I understood that it was gone.
Last week, however, I saw a tiny plant (it couldnt have been more than an inch tall!)
springing up from the earlier ones grave. Perhaps... Perhaps...
Karunya Shirali, Class 12
Home Bound

Would you like some juice, Maam?" the clipped British accents of the stewardess woke me
from my hazy stupor. "No thank you" I replied. Juice! Why would I want sterilized , melted
plastic British juice when I was going home. Home! The most beautiful city on earth and
the most ugly. Bombay, Mumbai ? my home. The air craft loses height and I peer out of the
window eagerly, attracting stares from a very prim English grandmother seated beside me.
It is two oclock in the morning by Indian standard Time and Mumbai, as usual is alive and
partying. As the plane gets closer and closer to the ground, Mumbai rises up to meet me.
Its glittering, diamond lights get brighter and brighter till at last, with a satisfyingly solid
shudder, the plane touches earth. I am home. I wait impatiently in line behind red faced
Englishmen and sari-clad Hounslow Gujjus. It is extremely difficult to describe how I feel.
Happy, obviously, to return to my city, apprehensive ? will it be very much changed?,
excited - I cant wait to sit in the familiar black and yellow auto, drink sugarcane juice from
Ramjis handcart and a little fearful ? will Ramji still be there?
I see the little door, the entrance to the aircraft, forming an archway that opens out to the
hot, black, Mumbai night. Sweaty and grimy like the long clammy fingers of a familiar and
friendly monster. I duck out of the low door and lo! It is pure magic. I am truly in Mumbai
now. I smell people, dirty, hot people, happy people. People who dont let anything
stop them. Whose black faces and white smiles are testimony to my citys magic.
I hear shouts, yelled out directions in Hindi, Marathi, Gujarati ? comfortable, warm
languages that roll off the tongue like the famous ice-gola. Languages that soothe my
ears after three years of clipped British accents (as if words were stones to be thrown at
people) and the harsh American twang. All the Indians off the plane begin yelling as well,
we Mumbaiites drive great pleasure from yelling. In this city, yelling freely, yell loudly,
nobody will mind, cry just one drop. However, and the whole city will be on its feet to
stand beside you.
I am standing on the tarmac, like a moon struck maiden, gazing at Mumbai ? the magical
metropolis. As I gather my bags and leave the airport, a barrage of taxi drivers, porters,
hotel agents and tour guides hit me. A fitting welcome to the city of enterprise, here a chef
from Singapore can become a millionaire film actor.
I drive through the streets and I find that "all is changed, changed utterly" the roads are
narrower than ever , the shops more plentiful, the cars more glittering and the hawkers
healthier . I re-acquaint myself with the glitz and the glamour ? Indians film capital, fashion
capital and financial capital. No sooner does the thought enter my head than the car cruises
past a formidable, towering structure, the ivory tower of the Reserve bank of India. The
left turns take me to the tree-lived street that houses the Bombay Stock Exchange ? the
temple of Indias emerging market.
I am filled with a sense of immense pride and joy. I feel like jumping on to the roof of
Elphinstone college and yelling out to the world, "Me Mumbaikar - I am a Mumbaiite. My
city is Mumbai ? the most perfect city in the world and the most imperfect. I pass the Asiatic
library and the clock tower, the oval Maiden, Mahim Church and pass into Bandra, my home
away from home.
As the car squeezes through the shady paths lived still with quaint little villas, I feel tears
prick my eyes as memory after memory surfaces in my head like never ending stream of
bubbles. I cry for the times I played, hide and seek with lost friends behind these same
villas, I cry for the times. We sat on the rocks beside the sea sharing stories and tears over
tea and peanuts. The sea is Mumbais mother ? when we cry the sea is the first to know,
when we laugh the sea laughs with us. It is Mumbaikars best friend and worst enemy. It
heals all hurts and magnifies all joy. A true Mumbaikar has sea water in his blood
Mumbai, like all its residents, is a city of conflicts, a paradoxical blend of all that is good and
all that is evil. It is the richest city in India and the poorest. It is the home of Shah Rukh Khan
and Abu Salem. It is beautiful and ugly . It is passionately, intensely free. You are free to
choose ? crime or cinema, Dharavi or Malabar Hills, free to set up business ? no matter
where you come from, who you are. Mumbai is passionate in everything ? intensely evil
and passionately brilliant ? it is a city of youth, of life of colours, to see Mumbai in all its
glory, where the messiah and the mercenary share sweat on the public bus, is to glimpse
an intensified, concentrated brew of life. It is hardly unsurprising , therefore, to find that I
am besieged by conflicting emotions ? like mother like daughter?
Rukma Sen, Class 12

"Boys will be Boys"

Over the vast and varied stretch of time which has seen the birth of humans, from the time
of Adam and Eve, there has been a tryst for a gender dominion of sorts. Of course, the story
of Adam and Eve was formulated (or told) much after the beginning of human existence. In
most early pagan cultures, it was the female, and the mother earth ,that was revered.
Later, with the development of Modern religions, the male form became the focal point,
all goods (most) depicted as male figures.
Currently, we are witnessing an enthusiastic surge in the feminist movement as women
begin to break the social bonds which had previously been holding them down. Whether
this is to lead to another loop in the cycle , or a final balance, is not easy to predict, but I
believe that at least temporarily, we are all looking for equality.
Im all for this movement, personally, yet, history shows us that there is some divide in
these two sects of humans, which is not that easy to ignore.
Of course, there are the obvious physical differences, but that can, for the most part , be
overlooked. The difference in ability to perform some activities, however, does largely
influence behaviour.
The bottom line here is that there are some clear patterns of divergence in the general
actions, and psychology of boys and girls, and these are very prominent during childhood.
After three or four years of childhood, and even more noticeably as the child becomes
progressively older, differences emerge in child behaviour. Girls tend to be happier
playing with toys, dressing up, drawing, reading or trying to dress up like their parents,
than the boys. Girls tend to be quieter, and probably more sensitive. Which is not to say
that any of this is bad though it may seem as though I have put it negatively. I know for a
fact that my mother wanted me to be a girl, and when my brother was to be born, she was
(due to experience) wishing, positively pleading for one.
Boys can me louder, more energetic and consequently, more destructive. Most child
psychiatrists reach a consensus on boys being more aggressive than girls, and much more
willing to settle confrontations physically.
As they grow older, girls tend to become tidier, and may see the need for organization. On
the contrary, boys (predictably) are messier. This tends to invite a certain amount of
distress on the part of the unfortunate parents, guardians, or Rishi Valley house masters.
Though I personally do not mind things being messy, were someone to suggest entering
Jacaranda House, I would (out of concern and respect for the aesthetic values of others)
strongly advise against it.
These characteristics, though discouraging, do come with a bonus. Boys tend to be livelier,
funny and entertaining ? we do wonders to those in a bad mood. It is not easy for things to
get dull when a boy is around. Though we may sometimes be called stubborn and selfish,
it is all because of our fun-loving, but otherwise well meaning spirit. And when the need
is felt, we can be quite helpful.
So, putting aside all other socially considered bad habits and natural tendencies, finally, it
is the to put it modestly flair, charisma, the cheerfulness, and the charming smiles
that take precedence in a boys character, to the delight of the on looker. Which is why
mothers, though exasperated, cannot help smiling when they see us. Boys will always be
boys.
Tushar Khurana, Class 12

Farewell

Step into a journey,
intimate yet distant.
Short and then shorter

Meet faces, learn names,
let time trickle on
as you pick up smooth pebbles
from the stream bed....storing each
collected memory
in your pockets.

I know these pebbles will stay
and not wear away,
They feel in my pockets,
solid,
and present.

This poem in dedicated to each of the various people that I met in my two years here...
Ira Sharma,Class 12

The Library

Black, a complete black,
and yet it reflects the window,
each inch of the window
can be seen on the floor,
ever so minutely ? clearly.

The one moving object is composed
of the fan over my head and
the tip of my pen.
The windows bright and ajar,
Let in the sounds of insects,
loud ? as if evening.
There are books towering over me,
warm, friendly and wisely knowledgeable,
each with a new strange story.
Eyeflies ? millions of them,
crowd around me,making me itch;
while Butterflies,gleaming beautifully in the sun,
flatter by outside the windows,
Light and joyous.

I want to fly with them,
laugh with them,cry with them.
So light ! so carefree, so beautifully pretty.
They enchant the world,
lives up the trees and fill the air
with their sweet colorings.

The heat doesnt bother them,
like lovers they do their dance,
in pairs.
And in groups
they sing aloud a toast
to this lovely summer.

I leave the library and walk out,
I walk down a stormy path
surrounded by a thicket of tall tress,
And suddenly ! They burst open,
hundreds of butterflies ... and me.

They engulf me,enchant me,
cried around and make a crown.
I stand,
alone,
mesmerized;
surrounded by a million butterflies.
Ira Sharma, Class 12

Graffix Galore ...
Julius Caesar
Kabir, Bhuvanesh, Class 8
Animal Farm
Inika, Class 8
Live it up with Languages...
r|
|| || ||, ||, r-||| ~| ||| ~|-| r||| | |-||||
|+| +|, |++ -|r|,
|-||||| | +|, -|r|
| || ||, |r-|| | |,
|| r| +|| r ||| -||,
|+|-|| ||-||, |+|-|| |||,
- ' -' ':
=rr|, +=rr
r| -r + ro| rrr|
|| | + || r||| || |+|-|| ||| ~||| |||| +|| | + || r|||...
|| |-| .|||+|-| + |- r||| ||r ||r | + ~|-|| || ~||||
| ||+| ||||| |+ + |-| + ||| |||| ~| ||-|| |||| |+ || ~|| |||
+ || | +-| |||| +|| +|| |||| | ||-|| + | ||+ |+ | | |-|
|||| |r r |||| ~|-| | +| | | |||| |||||| r ||| |-| |+
+-| +| | r||| | |r || ||+| | |||
,| || + || |, | ~|+|| | +|| + -||| ||| | ||| ||| +|
|-||, |+||-|| +| ||| +|, ||-||| +| ||| ~-|+ ||| ||| ||||
~|+|| | || -| | |r| ~|-| ~|||
|+ ||r | | ~|-|| |||-|||-||-| + |-| + -|+||| ||
=|r||, =:||
-r| -rrr>rr
|| |.|| -|||~|| || || ||~|| + |-| ,| |-||| | +, || |||-| r |
|| -|||~|| +-| | ||| ||| ~|-|- ~||| r ||| |r-|, -| +| ||~|| +-|
+ |-| r| |+ |+ +-| +| |-| ||| |+ || || -||| |-|+|| |
||+ -| + ~|-| +| ,-|||| +| r
| ~|-|| |--|| | ||-| +| ||~|| +| ||-| +-|| r| -||| |r| | || +
||| |-| +|+| -||| ~|-| ||| ||-|| -|| | | || -|||| || | |r| | |||||
||| + ||| ~||| -| | ||| r| | || ||| ~|-|| ||r | ||| |-| |
||| |-| |||| +| |||-|| | + ||| |-|| ||+|| |-| ||| | ~|-||
-|||||| + |-| ,|+ || | ||| |+ ||r + -||| ||| r|
|+ || r|-| ||| |-|-| +| |||| | ~|-| ||| + || -|||| || |||
|+ |-|-| + || || || -|| |, |-| ~|-| ~| ||| + |-| + || ||
|| r|-| -|+ ||| ||-| | | + ||| ||-| + || | ||| |+ || |||
||-| + || r|-| |||| | -||| |-|-|| |- + ||| |-|||-|| || r| r,
~|-|| ||r r| |r|-| ||-| |
|r| |r|+ r| -|| +-| +| || | |+ ||||| ~| |
|||(-|, =:||
rr -r rr+ -r rrr
| ||+ | ~|-| ||| + ||| |||| || r| -||| |r| | ||+-+ + |-| |
| r| |r| | |||| |+ ||r +| | ~| ||| +| ||||| ~| | r| -||| ||+
| |-|-| + |-| | | |r| | r|-| |r| ||| |+||
r| |r| | ||-| || || |r| | +|+| || |-| | | |-| |||| |r|
|r||-|| || ~| r| -|||| + |||| |r|| ~| +|, -| || ||| |r-| r|-| |r|
|r|+ +|||-| |-|| |+ || r|-| ~-|+ .|+| + -| || |-| |r|, | r|
|r| ||| ~| r| || |+ |+||-| r| |r| + ||-|| |-| +| |-||r | ~|
|+ +r| r| r| || -| ||-||| +| |-| + |-| |-| | |r| | r|
|||||, ||||, |r, ||+, ||-||| ~| + | -|r |+ r| |r| ||
-||| || r| || -||| ||-| | | r|-| |r| | +|+| + |||| ||-| +
|| ||r| +| |+| || r| -|| || +|+| |+ || | r|-| |||| +| ~| r| -|||
+-|| + ||||| | ||+ ~||| +|
~||| +-| + || r| -||| ||| |-|-| -|| || |+ |r| | ++| -||| ~|
|+ | r|-| |r| | +|+| || -| || || |-|| ||| + ||| r| -|||| -|
||||| ~|-| |+ |||| r| -||| ||||| |-| | || | ||+ | ||| || |+|-||
||| ~|||
|||(-|
|r-rr |-rrr rr-rr r
|r| |r-| +| ||| r + ||| ~|-| |||-|+ + ||| ||| || r| || |r
||-| + ||| | || +|||+ |r ~| ||| + ||| | + ||-| ||| || |||-|+
|| +| |+ ||-||| +| ~| ||| -| ||-| +|| r~| |+ |r +|| -| -||| ||
-| |+ ||| || | + | ||-|| | || | ||| ~| || +| || |-||
| | |+| | -| ||| ||| + +|| | -| -||-| +-| +| |||| || |||
+ -|||| ,| | ||| |-| || +| || |-||| | ~||| ~| |-| |||| |+
|| +| ||||-| -| || |-|||
||||, =:|| 1
-rr |irr =r-r
|| |.|| |-| |||+ ||-| r | |r |-| |||-| | |-||| ~| r| r ||
|r |-| ||| |||| ||- r | |||| | |r |-| | |-|| | |-||| ~| r|
r |r |-| || | |||| -| || |||||| || ~| -|+| -|+ |||| -| || ,|
|-| | |||-| | r| || || | r || ~|-| | | ,| |-| +| ||| ~|
|-||| r
,| |-| +| ||,| ~||| ||-|+ |-|| r r + |-| | ||| -||| r|||
r ,| |-| +| |||-| + |-| + |-| +| | |-| | ||| |||+ |-|-| ||
r |r| ~|||-|| | -|+ ,| |-| +| ,|-|| ||| -|r| |-|| | | |-| ||-|||
+ |-| ~|-| ||| + ||| |-||| r | ,| |-| |, ||| ~|| r | ~| +|
+r || ||| |-|| r | ,| |-| + ~-|||| +, || |-| |-||| r | || |r
|-| |||.|| r
r|| +-| | ,| |-| +| ||| |||| -|r| ||| |||| || |r |-|
|-|+ |-||| |||-| ||-|| ~|-|- ~||| r |r |-| ||| |-||| | | |-||
|||| r ,-| |-|| ~||+| + |-||| ,| |-| | ~||-| | | r || ||-||
~|-| | + |-| |-|+ ||| +| |||-|| r || |.|| |-| |||+ ||-| | |r
|-| r||| |-||| r||
|rr-r|
|||-|| r ||-| +|||+ ||| +| ||||| +| ~||| r |||-|| | | |-| |r-|
+|| ||| +| ||r| |-|||| |||| r ,| |-| || -||| ~|-| | +| ||+ +|
r. || -||| -|-|| ~| ||| +| ||| +| r -||| || |||, ||| r ,|
|-| -| ||-| || ||| r
-||| ~|-| || +| -||, ||| | |-||+ ~|-| | +| |||| r | + -|||
||| ||-|+ |||, |-||| r ,| |-| -||| ~|, +| ||, | ||| +| |||
|-||| r |||-|| +| |||| || +r| |||| r ,| |-| || ||||-| ||| +|
|| + ~|||| -|| | | ~||+-| -||| |||-|| +| ||| |-| + |-| |-|||
r ||||-| +| .|||-|| + |-| -|r| ,| |-| -||| |||| +| -| +| || | r
,| |-| -||| ||-|| ||| r ,| |-| |-|| ~|-| ||| + || || | r ||
-||| | |-||| r ~| | | |||| ||| r ,| |-| -||| -|-|| |-||-| + |-|
~|-| | +| || |-||-| +| |||| | -|| ||| r -||| ~-||~-|| |r +|
|||,|| |-||| r ||| |r-| || -||| | + ||- | ||| r ||| |+ |||
+-| + || -||| ||| |-||-| + |-| ||r |-| ||| r
,| |-| || -||| ||-|+ ||| || r || -||| ||| ||-|+ |r| |||
+| r | ,| |-| |r| .||| r||| r .||| r|| || + |-| |r| ||
r |r ||||| +| || ||| r ,| |-| +, ~||| ||-| -||| |||| r|| r
|||-|| || ||| |.|| ||r| r
|||(-|, =:||
r-r| +r +-r
|r| ||| +| |r-| +| ||| r + ||| ~| + |-|| | |-|| |r-| | r|
| |-|| +| +-| |r| || | |r-| | + -||+ ||
-||+ +| -||| ~|-| || + |-| ||| || ||| + r | ~||-|+, +
||| ~||| ||| -| +r|, ||| |||', ~||+| |-|| | r| r ||| -| || |
+r| +|| |r +|| | r| r` ||| -| +r| +|||+ |+| |-||| | ||| r
||| || ||| ~| ||| | + |-|| + ||| ~| |-|| -| ||| | +r| ||
+ +-| |||r ||| -| +r| +|-| || +-|` |-|| -| +r| + +|-|, || + |-|
| ||~|, |r| |r| || +|-| r ||| ||-| | ||| |-| |r| + ~|| ~|
| | + +| || || ||| + | |+| | ||r ~|||
||| + || |-| + ~ ||| ~||-|+ |-| + ~||| || |||
~||| | | r| ||| ~||| + ~ + || || || + +| + +|-| ||
||| +|-| -|+ |-| | |r-| | ||| |-|| +|-| +| |+ |r| || r|
|||
|||:|, =:|| 1
|r--r| r r+| rr
|r| ||| |r-| +| ||| r + -|+| || |+| -||| || || |r |r-||
|| +-| ||-| + |-| |||| + r| || |-| ||||, | ~|| +-| ||+|| ~|
|| ||| || ||| + ~- | ||| || ||| +-| | |r|| || ||| +
||| |r +-| + ~- ||| || +| ~||||+| |r| ~| || ||| + ||
~||||+| ||-||, ~| ||-|| ||-|| || || r|| ||-| + |-| ||| |-| +
||--|| || || |||| |||
| |-| ||| || |r| r~| |+ + |-| |r ||--|| || + | ||-| -|||
|| -| ||--|| +| ||| ~| +r| || |r| | || | |r | |+|| r
|| ||--|| +| | -| ||| |-| |||| | ||, |||||||| +|| | ,| ||--||
+| | |+|| r |||| -| +r| r| || |||--|| +| | |+| r| | |r | ||r
|-|| |||
|| -| ||--|| +| ||r || | || + | | + ||||-|| || r |-| +
|+| ||| r||| || || || r| ||| ||--|| -| + -|||| || ~| ||+ +-|
-||| || ||r ~||| | ||| |-| ||| |+ -|||| |+|| || || |r ||--||||
|+| || ~| || -|||| +| |||-|| ||--|| + |-| + | |-||
||||
-r| =rr-rr
|| | || -|| |-||
| |-|| ||, |
||| | ~| ||+-||
~||-|+ |-|| r|
+| |r| + |
|| || + |r|
|-| +r| | || | |-| +r|, || -|r|
|-| +r| r| |r ||r -|r|
|-| +r|, | ||| ~| r -|r|
-||
-r| r-r
|-|||-|| + | |-| ||||||,
~| || |-| || ||| -|||
|+| | r +|-|| ~| -||-|,
|r |-|||| r || |r|-|
||-| |-| + || | ,+ |-|||,
~| |r ||| | |-||||
|||-| ||+| r |+| |,
-|r| -|||| |+|
~-|| |-| +| || r ||,
|| |-||-|| | r| ||||,
| | |r-|||r-|| + |-||| ||
|r || |-| +| +r|-||,
|r| r|| ||| | ||
:|+:||, =:||
-r| -rr
|| || r ||| ||| ~| |r| -|||
r ||r |r || ||| ~| || | |-| -|||||
r| |-||, || + || || || |-| ||||||
| | || | || ||| r
|||-|| r| r, |+ || | ||| |-||| r
|| |r| +|| r| r| r
|| |-||||| |r |+ +|| ~| ||+| |-||, |||||
|r r| -||| + || | |r| |||| ~| r| ||| |-||||
|r| ||| |+|||| ||| ~| ||| |r| ||| |||
r || ~|+|| |||| ~| |r| +|| +||
| || | ~|-| +| ||| r||| r
|r || + |-|+-|||
|r| || ||| ||-|| |+||| ~| |||||| ||+-| |+|||
|| |||, -||| ||
:|+:|| , =:||
+r; -r| =rr-r +r rr-r ;-+r-r
| ,+|-| +| r ,+|-| ||| +| + || || -|| r ,+|-| ||||
||| | r ,+|-| + |r| |- ||r r ,+|-| +| |||| |||-|| r|| r
,+|-| | |r| ||| ||| -|r| r||| ~| |||| |||| r||| r ,+|-| | |r|
||| ||-| +| |r r ,+|-| | -|,||| -|||+ + |-|| r |r + |r| |-
||+-||+ || r
,+|-| | + ||| r |+| -||| ||-|r-| ||| r ,+|-| | |r|
|| +-| ~| r||-| r ,+|-| | + ||-||-|||| || r |+| -||| ||||
||-|||||| r ||, -|||+ r|| ||+ ,+|-| | |||| |||| r ,+|-| | +
| r
,+|-| | -||+||+ -|+ || r ~|| ,+|-| +| || |~|| ~|+| |||| ||r
r |r + |,|, r ,+|-| + -|||| +| |,|, +r| r ,+|-| | ~|| ||||
+-|+ |r-|| r |r| |||| -||| ||||| ||| r ~|| ,+|-| | |r|
|||+ r ,+|-| | ~|| ||-| || ~|| | ,+|-| ~|-| | || 4 ,|||-||)
||-| -||| r ,+|-| | |r| || r||-| || r ,+|-| + |r| ~| ||r r
,+|-| | ||||| ||-|| |||| r ,+|-| | |r| || ||r| || |-||| |||| r
,+|-| + |r| |- ||r r
:|-:|| , =:||
rrrr rrrr -r
. ||r| | ~||+ |||| | +|| +|| |||| |||||| +| |||| r`
| ||r| | | |||| + || || ||-|+ | +| ||+|+, +|
r r| ||r| + |-| ||r ||r ||| +| r r| | | +| |||| r r|
|||, ||| r ~| || ||| ||| +| r
.. +|| ||||-|| | ||| |-| |||r` +|| -|r|`
| ||||-|| | ||| |-|| |||r +|||+ ||||-|| + ||r| r ~|
||r|| | ||| +-|| |||r
. |+|| || |-|| +| ||-| + || ~||+| |+|| -| ||||| r| || ~||-|
|+|| +| |r|||| +| r
| ||r| +| |-| || r|| | | |r ||r| ||||| | |-|||| || r|
|| r|-| ~|-| || ||||| +| |-|||| r~| || ||| |-| || +| + ||
~|||, ||| |-| +|| -|r| || ||, + +|-| | || r~| || |r |r| ||| ||
~| + -||| + | | || r~| || |-| ~|-| |||| +| |||+, | + +||
~| ||-|| |||
rr|-rrr |-rrrr |-rrr-r
| |
||-| | +| | + ||| + |-| ||, ||||||, |r|r
| | |||| +
|| |||| +| + |-||
|| | || ,4) ||-| +| ||, || ||| ||-|| |r| ~| -|||| || + |-|
| ||| ~| |||| | |-| || -|| |-| || |+ || + ~- + -||| r|
| +| + ||-| +| ||||| |-| | ||-|| |||+ |||| || |- || ||
|r ~-|| -|||
| ||-|| ~| ||-|| ||-| -||| | | | | ||| -| -||| ~| || || -| ||
||,| +| ||| ||| ||| || ||| |-|| |+ |-| ||| +| ||-|| |||+
|| |-||| || ~| || +| ||||-||, || || r|-| -|| ~| | ||-| || |r-|, r|||
||-| | ||| r |+ |r ||-|| r +| |||
~| |||| r|| +|| ~| ||||| || |, ||
+ |r| || ||-|| ~||| || |r |r| ~|| || |+| + +++|| ||
|+| -||| ||| || |r || +| + -|r| +|| || | +||| | ~|-|| || ||
||| +| |||-|| |||-| || || || || |r| ~|| || || |r| ||-| ||
||, ||| +| || |||-|| ~|-| r|| | -|-|| ||r|| ||
|-| + |-| ||| +| + |||| | ||,-| +-| +| +r| |||, || |
||||| +|| || ~| |-| ||,-| +||| ||| -| |r +||| ||-|| | r| ||,-|
+ |||
|| |r| || || |r +|+| + +||| | ~| |r ++| || + -||| |
r | |||
|| ||| + ||| |-||
:|-:||
+ +rr r + =rrrr
+ |-| + +|~| + |||| | -||, + r| || + +-|| ~||| + ||
+| +|| r~| -r|-| +r| +| || |-|| +|| |||-| | |-|| r +| |-| -| r r
| +-|| -| +r| || |-|| + || r|-|| |||| || || |-|| ||| r | |
|| ||| |r| |+ ||| || ~| || + ~|| +| | | | + |r| ~|| || r|
|| |-|| | || || |||| || -|| || |-| | +| +|~| |r| ~|| || ||
|| | || + ||| || |-| || +| +|~| |r| |r| ||| r, |r |r ||| r
+| |+| ~||||+ || r| r || |+| ~|||+ |||| r +| -| |-|| -|
|r+|| || + ||| +|~| +r|| r +| |-| |+| |r+|| +| || -|r| |+||
r |+| | |||| r
|-||
rr -r r + rr r=rr
+ |-| + -|+| ~|, ~| |-| ... +| || || |r-| +| +-| + |-| ~|,
|r + ~-|| || |-| | |-| + |-| +r| -|r| |+|| |+ || |-| |r|
+| || || |||
|| | |r || |-| || ||| |-| . n,, || -||-|||
r| r||| | +||~ +| | +| | |+ . r|| | |||| + ~|
r|| r||| r|-| - ,|+| + || | ||+ + || ||| |-||
r| r|| || |||| ~| r| | +|| | |-|+|-| ||| |+ || r||
| | ||| -|r| r, r| |+ || |r| ||-| +| +| +|, -|r| ||| +-||
|+| + || || ~||| || | |+ -| |+ ||-|| +| |+| r|
|, r
||| ||
rr-r
| ||| r |+|
|| || -|| -|| | ||||
,-|| || r +| ||
||+ -| ||| +||
,|-| -|| r | |||
-| |r-| || |-|-| |+-|
~|| | |+ || -| ||-|
,|-| -||r r | |||
|-| r | ||-| + |-||
-|-| | | + || ||-| + |-|
| ||+ ||| +| |-| |||-| + |-||
~| |-| r chiken ||-|
+ |-|| burer, pizza, chocolate
| || -| + |-||
~| |-| r | ||-| + |-|| || +| -| || ||-| + |-|| |||, ||| ||
|||| +| |-| -|||-| + |-|||
~| |-| ||-| + |-||
||
|r-|
| || r | |r-|
||| -|+| ~|-| |-| + |||
||| || ~|-| -|r| ||
-|+ +| +|| ~-| |
| |||-| ||-| | | +
+|| r|| r r|-| |+|
-||| |+ || r |r |-| || ||r || ||| ||+
|+|| |r r|| r |r |+ | +| r |||| r
|| +| |r, |r +| -| ||
|||| ||| r| +||| r
-|=|-|, =:||
+|rrr rar| +=rr
+-||| | || -|| ~| r| r,
||||-|| ||| r||| || r| r
~|||+ || | -||| r||,
||+| || || +|| || -| r||
|| ||-| +| ,||| r|||
|-| | || |||| r| |r| r ||
+ |-| ||-|| +| |r |||||
+ ||-|... r|| +| |r |||||
| r| |-| || ||||
~| ,-r| |-|| +| |r ||-|| || ||||
:|--| |||a
-, - , --: : - ., - - - -
. ' : --' ~ -- :' - -,:
-| |-| r|
+ -r
|||| | ||-| r +-|,
-||-| r ,-|+| |,
|- r -|+| -|.
+ + -|r| ||||,
| | |||, | || r
||. | ||:||
rc-rr
|r |-|| ||-| |r-| || || | |||| + |||||||| -|||+ | r r
| | |||| +| |||| ,||-|| ||) ~| |||| ,|| ~+-|) +| +, | ||-| +|
-|+| ||.
+ |-| | ~|-| |||| +| ,||| + r | | | || |+| | r |,
~|-| |-| | ||| ~| r | || +-| -| || |-|| -r|-| |-| | +|||
+ | | | || | |r ||+ | -|r| | || |-| -r + ~|| |||, |
-r|-| |||| |+ |r ~-|+| |||| r|||
||| ||-|-| | -r ||| |-|| |+ + ~|| ~| | ~||| ||r | |
| |||-|| |, |r ||-| + |-| .|||; | || ~-|+-| |||| | -|r| + ||
-| ||-|| -| || | -| |-||| -r-| | ||-| +| -|+ | ||-|| |-||-| +|
||+| | | ||-| +| -|+| -| -||| ||-|| || -| | ||-| +-| +| +||||
|+ |-| -| -|||| -| ||-|| || +| ~|| | |+ | | -r ||-|| || +
||-| +| |||| ~||| |-|+|-||
|+ | || ~+-| +| +|+| -|-| +| +|||| + r | |-| |r +|| |r|
+|||| || ~| || ~+-| -| | |-|| + ||| | +|| | || ~+-| -| |+|
+| |||| ~| |++| | ||r |+-| || ~+-| -| ||-|| +| |-||-| +| ||+| |
+ ||
| ||-| |||| +, ||| -|| r ||| | || ~+-| -| || ~||+| +
||-|| +| |r |-|| |||,, -r|-| |r |||| ||| |+|| +| || -|r| r, -||,
+|, ||| -|r|
| r| |r| -||| | || ||| r ~| ||-|| + -|r| +|| r
|::||
+ -r
|||| +| |||| r
||+| ~| -|||| r
||+| || ||| ~| -||||
| ||+| |||| ||| r
| r ||r |||| |||| r
||-||, ~| |||-| |
||-|| -|r| ||-|| ||
|| + | ||||
| |+ +| || +
||||||| |r |-||||
r ||+| |r-|+ ~||
-||| ||-|| +|| r
| | ||| || | ||-||| r
| || ||r ||| r
|| r| || |||| |||||
||| |||||-| | ||+| ||| r
||| r|-||, =:||
rr
+ |-| ~|||-|| | +| |+ |r-| | ~|| ~| ||| ||-|| ~++| ~| ||||
~++| r| +| |-||||, ~|| +| |-|+-|-| + |-| ~-|| ||, |+ -|| ~| ||,
|-||||| || || || |, |+ r| || +| |r| -||| |,
+|||+ ~|| |r| ||| | || ~| ~|-|| ||-|r| -|r| |+| |, |+ |-|| ||
~|+ r| +| +|||-| +|- | ||| ||, r| ||| ||| + |-|| || || ~||
-|r| || | || r| |-| r | ~|| |+ | ~|||, r| |-|| | +| ||-| ||
|| + -||| +| || +|||+ ~| ~|| || r| r|| || || ~-|||| ~| |+-
+ ||| ~| ||| || ~|-|| |||| ~| || +-| ~| -||-| |
=||r|=|, =:||
-rr-rr;-r =-r
r r ||-| Fans
+|||+ -| r r ||| ||~| ||
| +|| -||||,-| -|
~| ||||| + ||-|
r|| | ||-| +| -|+
||-| +| ||||
||-||| ||-| |.|-||| +|,
|+ |.|-||| ||-| |||
a||-|r|, =:||
-r+=r rr=r-r=+|
.|| ' .||' |||| |||,
|| |||-|+| + ||| ||| ~|||
|r ||-| +| -|+ ~|| ||||,
~| |-| |+ + ~|||
||+-| |-||+ +| ||| ||
~| cross + |-| ~|| ||||
+-|||, |-| ~| ~|-|
+ ||| defence +| beat +||
|| ||-| fans/supporters
||+ r|+ ||
+|| ||-|| |||||
|r ||||
a||, =:||
rr-r
|r| ||| |r-| +| ||| r + | || |r + ~||| | r|| || ~|||
| |r |r| ||| || + |-| |-| |||| |r| || | |-| | r| r | |
~||| | r|| r |-||, | |-| | |||| r, ~| |r| r|| r |r ||-| | |||
|r|, + ~|| || | | |||||-|| || |r | + +| | ||| ,||-|
| |+|| -| -|r| || || |-| ||-| + ||| | + |.+| || |r |+| +
~ ||| |r| + | || r| ||
| ||| |r |+| +| |+ |||| |-| |||| | |||||-|| r | ~|||
|||| r ~| |r| ||| | r||
|||
-r| -rrr>rr
|| |.|| -|||~|| || || ||~|| + |-| ,| |-||| | +, || |||-| r |
|| -|||~|| +-| | ||| ||| ~|-|- ~||| r ||| |r-|, -| +| ||~|| +-|,
+ r| |+ |+ +-| +| |-| ||| |+ || || -||| |-|++|| | ||+
-| + ~|-| +| ,-|||| +| r
| ~|-|| |--|| | ||-| +| ||~|| +| ||-| +-|| r| -||| |r| | || +
||| |-|| +||+ -||| ~|-| ||| ||-|| -|| | | || -|||| || | |r| |
|||||| ||| + ||| ~||| || -| | ||| r| | || ||| ~|-|| ||r | |||
|-|| || || |-| |||| +| |||-|| | + ||| |-|| ||+|| |-| |||
| ~|-|| -|||||| + |-| ,|+ || | ||| |+ ||r + -||| ||| r|
|+ || r|-| ||| |-|-| +| |||| | ~|-| ||| + || -|||| || ||| |+
|-|-| + || || || -|| |, |-| ~|-| ~| ||| + |-| + || || ||
r|-| -|+ ||| ||-| | | + ||| ||-| + || | ||| |+ || |||
||-| + || r|-| |||| | -||| |-|-|| |- + ||| |-|||-|| || r| r,
~|-|| ||r r| |r|-| ||-| |
|r| |r|+ r| -|| +-| +| || | |+ ||||| ~| |
|||(-|, =:||
rr -r rr+ -r rrr
| ||+ | ~|-| ||| + ||| |||| || r| -||| |r| | ||+-+ + |-| |
| r| |r| | |||| |+ ||r +| | ~| ||| +| ||||| ~| | r| -||| ||+
| |-|-| + |-| | | |r| | r|-| |r| ||| |+||
r| |r| | ||-| || || |r| | +|+| || |-| | | |-| |||| |r|
|r||-|| || ~| r| -|||| + |||| |r|| ~| +|, -| || ||| |r-| r|-| |r|
|r|+ +|||-| |-|| |+ || r|-| ~-|+ .|+| + -| || |-| |r|, | r|
|r| ||| ~| r| || |+ |+||-| r| |r| + ||-|| |-| +| |-||r | ~|
|+ +r| r| r| || -| ||-||| +| |-| + |-| |-| | |r| | r|
|||||, ||||, |r, ||+, ||-||| ~| + | -|r |+ r| |r| ||
-||| || r| || -||| ||-| | | r|-| |r| | +|+| + |||| ||-| +
|| ||r| +| |+| || r| -|| || +|+| |+ || | r|-| |||| +| ~| r| -|||
+-|| + ||||| | ||+ ~||| +|
~||| +-| + || r| -||| ||| |-|-| -|| || |+ |r| | ++| -||| ~|
|+ | r|-| |r| | +|+| || -| || || |-|| ||| + ||| r| -|||| -|
||||| ~|-| |+ |||| r| -||| ||||| |-| | || | ||+ | ||| || |+|-||
||| ~|||
|| | + || r||| ..
|| | + || r||| || |+|-|| ||| ~||| |||| +|| | + || r|||...
|| |-| .|||+|-| + |- r||| ||r ||r | + ~|-|| || ~||||
| ||+ ||||| |+ + |-| + ||| |||| ~| ||-|| |||| |+ || ~|| |||
+ || | +-| ||| +|| +|| |||| | ||-|| + | ||+ |+ | | |-|
|||| |r r |||| ~|-| | +| | | |||| |||||| r ~| |+ +-|
+| | |-| + +|| || ||+| | |||
,| || + || |, | ~|+|| | +|| + -||| ||| | ||| ||| +|
|-||, |+||-|| +| ||| +|, ||-||| + ||| ~| ~-|+ ||| |||
|||| ~|+|| | || -| | |r| ~|-| ~|||
|+ ||r | ~|-| |||-| + |-| + -|+||| ||
=|r||, =:||
-r| -rrr>rr
|| |.|| -|||~|| || || ||~|| + |-| ,| |-||| | +, || |||-| r |
|| -|||~|| +-| | ||| ||| ~|-|- ~||| r ||| |r-|, -| +| ||~|| +-|,
+ r| |+ |+ +-| +| |-| ||| |+ || || -||| |-|++|| | ||+
-| + ~|-| +| ,-|||| +| r
| ~|-|| |--|| | ||-| +| ||~|| +| ||-| +-|| r| -||| |r| | || +
||| |-|| +||+ -||| ~|-| ||| ||-|| -|| | | || -|||| || | |r| |
|||||| ||| + ||| ~||| || -| | ||| r| | || ||| ~|-|| ||r | |||
|-|| || || |-| |||| +| |||-|| | + ||| |-|| ||+|| |-| |||
| ~|-|| -|||||| + |-| ,|+ || | ||| |+ ||r + -||| ||| r|
|+ || r|-| ||| |-|-| +| |||| | ~|-| ||| + || -|||| || ||| |+
|-|-| + || || || -|| |, |-| ~|-| ~| ||| + |-| + || || ||
r|-| -|+ ||| ||-| | | + ||| ||-| + || | ||| |+ || |||
||-| + || r|-| |||| | -||| |-|-|| |- + ||| |-|||-|| || r| r,
~|-|| ||r r| |r|-| ||-| | |r| |r|+ r| -|| +-| +| || | |+
||||| ~| |
|||(-|, =:||
rr -r rr+ -r rrr
| ||+ | ~|-| ||| + ||| |||| || r| -||| |r| | ||+-+ + |-| |
| r| |r| | |||| |+ ||r +| | ~| ||| +| ||||| ~| | r| -||| ||+
| |-|-| + |-| | | |r| | r|-| |r| ||| |+||
r| |r| | ||-| || || |r| | +|+| || |-| | | |-| |||| |r|
|r||-|| || ~| r| -|||| + |||| |r|| ~| +|, -| || ||| |r-| r|-| |r|
|r|+ +|||-| |-|| |+ || r|-| ~-|+ .|+| + -| || |-| |r|, | r|
|r| ||| ~| r| || |+ |+||-| r| |r| + ||-|| |-| +| |-||r | ~|
|+ +r| r| r| || -| ||-||| +| |-| + |-| |-| | |r| | r|
|||||, ||||, |r, ||+, ||-||| ~| + | -|r |+ r| |r| ||
-||| || r| || -||| ||-| | | r|-| |r| | +|+| + |||| ||-| +
|| ||r| +| |+| || r| -|| || +|+| |+ || | r|-| |||| +| ~| r| -|||
+-|| + ||||| | ||+ ~||| +|
~||| +-| + || r| -||| ||| |-|-| -|| || |+ |r| | ++| -||| ~|
|+ | r|-| |r| | +|+| || -| || || |-|| ||| + ||| r| -|||| -|
||||| ~|-| |+ |||| r| -||| ||||| |-| | || | ||+ | ||| || |+|-||
||| ~|||
.. .-...
.. ..... ... ..... .... ..... . ... .. . ...
..c .. .. ... .... ... . ... .. ... ...
... .. .... .. ......... .. .... .. ... ....
. . .. .. ........ .. .. ., ... .. ...... ... .....
. ., .....
. .. ., ...... ....... .. ..... ...... -.. .,..
...... .... ... .. - .. . .. .. ........ .. ...
....... .. ..... .........
.. . .. ... ., ... .. .. . ... .....
......
... . . ... .... ... ... -. ... ... ....
..... .... ... .. .... ... .. .... ..
... .......... . .. .. . .. ..... ... .....
.~ .....
.-.. s ...c
..... .....
... ..... ... .. .... .. ...... .... ...
...... . .... ..,.. ...... ~c ... ..... ...
... .. ... . ..... .... ...~ . ..... .. .
..... ... . ... .... ..... ..... .... ,. ..
....... .. .... ... ..... ... .... ... ....
... -... -. ..... .. ..~... ...... :+ ......
: ..... . ... .... .,.,... .... .. . ... .. ...
c . .
.... ,.. ... .. .. .. . ... ... .. ..
.. .... ... .. :+ ...... .... . ..... ... .. :+
..... -.. ..... .... . ... ... ... ... .....
,... ..
. .. ...... ...... .. .,. .. . .. .. .. .
.... ...
.... . .
... .-.... --. ........
... . .... ...... ...,.. ... ... .......
.. .... ... .
. . . . .. .... ....... ..... ..... ..
... .. .... . .. ...
+ + +
.. . . .. .. ... .... ..... ..
........ ..... . .. .. ..
.... . . .. . .. .. -.. .. ... ..... .
.. ........ . ... . .. ... .
.. ..... .....
+ + +
...~ .. ... .c..... ...... .... .. ..
.. .. ... .. .. ..... .c.... .. . .. .. ....
... ... .. ..... .... ... .c..... .. .. ...
.
.. ....
.. .... .. .~.. .. .. ... ... .. . .. c..
. .... ... .... ...,.. .. ,.. ... . ..
.... ......... .~. .... . .. .. . ...
-... ... ..... ..... .. . . .. .... ..... .,..
.,... .... .. .... .. .. ... ..... .. -..
.. ....... ......... ..... .c... ... . .... ....
... ..... ..... ... .., . . ... .... ...... .,
c ... ........ .. ...
.. ...... ...... ... .... . ..c. .. ...
..... .. ... .. .. ... .. . ..,. ....
......... ... . ... ..... : ... . ..... . -.
...... ...... .....c : ... .... -.... . ...
..... - -.. .. ... ....... ... ..... .. c
... .. .. ......... ....
. .~ .. ........ -. .. . ... ... ......
... .. .... .. -.. ~...... ...... ........
.... ... ... .... -.. .... ... . ... ..
.... -.. . .. ...... .....
- ... ... ... .. .... .. . ... ..... .
..... ... .. .... ...... ... ..... ...... .... .,
....
........ ... .... . ...... . c .... ...
... ....... .... ..
_...
.
.... .. .. ..... .... . .. ... ... .
. ... .~.. .... ..c ... ... .... ...... . ....
...c .. ...
.... .. ..... .. . .... .... . .. ..... .
.... .... .... .. ...... .. ~ .. .. .. . ... ..
. ...
.-.
. . .. . -... . ... ...
~.. . .... .........
. . .
...... .... .. .... ........ .... . . .
.... ... ... ...... ... .. ..,.
... . ... . -.. ...,
.~ . ... .. . -.. ...,
.. ... ......
. . . . . .... .... ... ..... ,.... .. -..
-... ...... ...
.. x ....
...
...,... ._.. ... .. ..... .... . ..
...... .... ... .. .. ..... ......... . .... .
.. ......... .... .. ..... ..... ...
..,... .. .. . ..... .... -. .... . .. .....
.. ....... ......
c.... .. ... .... .. .. .... ... ..
..,... . ... ..... ..... . .. ... ......
.... ...... .... .. .... .......
-. .... c.... ...... .. .. ... .... ..
.... .., ...... ...... ...... .... .. .....
...... ...... ...~ . .. .~ .. . .. ... ..
.. . .c .. ..
c.... ...... ..... ... .... ...... ......
... . ...~ .. .. .. .. ... -.. ... c....
...... .. .... ...... ....... ....
_..... .... ..... .. .. . ....... . ..
... .. .. ..... .... _ ..... .... .. ....
... .... ... ..... .. ... ....... ... .. .. ......
.. ... .. ....... .... _ ......... c. .. .
... .. c....
.... ....... ..,. . .. .... ..... .. .
.c.. ..... .. .. ....... _ ........ .... ......
... .. ... .... . ... .. ... ....c. ... ...
c. .... .. ... c. ..... ..... ...
. ..... . ... .. .. ... .... .... ....
... ... . ..... ... ...... -... .... ........
. .. .... .... ... .... ...... .. ...
. ... .. .... ... ... ....... .. .. ...
... ...... ... . .. .... ...... ..... ... .....
-.. ... .. ..... ... ..... .. ... _ ..... ....
... .. ..... ... ..,.. .. ...... .. ... ..
...... ... .. . ...... .. .... ... ... ..... ..
..... .. ... .. . ... .. ........
.. ...., ..., .... .. .... ..... ... ., .....
... .. .. ., ... . ... ... -c .. . ..... .. -. ...
... ... .. -... ., .... .... ...
.... .. .~ .., ... .. ....... .... -..
... -. .. .. ... ... . .. .....
.. ... .
.. ... ... ... ..... ..... -.. .... ... ...
~c. .... -... ... .. ..... ....... .. .....
.... .. .... . ... .. ........
.. ... ... .... ....... ....... .... .... ...
.c ... . . ...... .c ... ..... ... .... .
.. .. . ..... . .,.. ........ ...
.... ........
... ... .. ... .. ... ... .. ... ....
... ..... .... -... ... ..... ... .. ...
.. .. ..... .,..... ... .. ... .. .... .
.... ... .c ...
.... -.. . .... ..... ...... .. .....
.......... .. .... ....... .. .... ... .. .....
..... .. . . .. .... ...
.. . .... .c .. ........ .... .. .. ... .
... . .. .. .....c ....... .. ...... ..
.. c... ... . .. ..... ... ... ..
....... ... ... .. ........
. .. .......... ... .~.. ... .. . .
....... ........ ... .. .. ....... ..
......
.. .. .. ....... ... ... ...... .~..... ....
.. .
.... ... ..... ....... ... ... ..... ..
..... ... c.... ...... ...... . .. .... ....
..... ...... ... .... .. .... . ....
... .
.... .... ..... .. . ... . .,. .. ....
... ..... . . ....c .... .....
.-. .
...-..
.. .... .... .. .., . .. .... .. ..
... .. -... . . ...
-. ..... .. .. ... .... -...
..... .... .... .,.... .. .. .
.... ... .... ... ... . .......
. . .~ . .. .. .... .. ... ..c .. ... ..
... .. .... ..... ... ... .... ....
.... . .,. .........
.. ..,.. .. .. . ... .... ... ...
....... ... ... .. ... .. ...... ... . .. ...
.. .. .... . ... .....
. .... .. .... -.. . .. .... ..,. .. .
.. .... .. .... . .. .. . ... ... ... ..
-.. .. .. . .,.. .....
.., . ..., ...,. .. .... ..... . .~.
.... .... .... .......
... ... ...... . .... ... . .... .c... ..
..... .... ....... ... ... .......
.. .. .. .. ..... ... ..... ... .. . ..
-.... .... ..... .... ... ..... .....
......... ... . .... ..... . ... .... ..... .
.~. . ... .... .... .......
-. .... .. ...... ..... . ... .....
.. . .. .. .c. .. .. .... . . ...
-.. .. .. ..... .. . ... ..., .. .. ... ...
..., .. .... .... ... .. ... . .. ...
.... . .... .. ... .... . .. ...... ..
..... .... ...... .. .. ...... .... ....... .
.. ... . ..... ... .... ... ....... ..
..... .. .. ... .. ... ... ... ... .. ...
..... . .......
... . ... .. .. .. ...... . ...... .... . ..
.... ... .... ........ ... .
....... .. ....... . ... .. c..
... ... .. ..... . .. . .... .. -...
.. .
..... ...c. ... ..... . .. ........ ... ..,..
...... ... .... ..... -. ... ....
.. ... ... ... ... ..... ....... -. ...
.... .c.. ... ..., ...
... .c. ... ...... ... ........ ...
.... ... ... ...... .. ...
.... .. .. .. ... ... ... .......... ..
. . .
~ .. .., ~ .. ... ... ....... .
... .. ... ... ...
. ... ... ... ...... . . ... ..... ~
~ ....
... .... ... .. ....... ... ... . . ... ....
..... ... .. ... ....
-... .... .. ... .... ... .. ... .. .. . -.
... .... .. ... .. .... ..... .. ... .... ..
....
.... . ... ... ... .. ... .. ....... .. ...
...
... ... ....... ...... ...... ..... ...
..... -... .. .. . ... . ... ... .. .c.
.... ...... ...... .... ... ~. .... ... ...
.. .,
.. .... .. .. ...... ... ... .... .. .. .
.... ... ... .... . .. . ..
.... .., .. -..... .. ... .... .. .....
. . .
... ....... ... .. .. .c .. .. ....
..... ...... .. ....... ... ......
... ........ ........ . . ... ... ...
....... ..., ...
.. .. .. .. .. ... ... . ... .. . ....,
.. ... ... .... ..... .... ... ....
... -.. .... .. ... ....
.. .. .... .. .. ... ....... -.. .. .
.. .. ..... . . .......
.. .. ... .......
.. .. . ..... . ..~. ... . ...
-.... ... ..... .... .... .. .
.. c.. ..... .....
. ... .~.. .. ... .. ... ...... ........ .
. ... .. ... ...... . ......
.... ..c ..., . . ... -. ... ... ... .. ..
-... .. ..... ... .... .. .,... .... c..
..... -.. .c .. .. ... . .,... ..... -.
... ... ... ....... ..c .. . .,... .. ....
... . ..... .... .... . -. ... c.. -..... ..
.... .,..... ..c ... ... ..... .... ...,
. . .. .
... .. .. .. ... . ... . ... .. ...
.... .. ..c........ . .~ ... .... .... ...
........ .. .... ... .... .. .. .., .~ .. .....
... -... ... c. .. .., . ..... .........., ..
... ....... .. ..... ..... ..... .. . ...
....... .., ... .. ... .. ....
.. ...., .. .., -. ....... .... . .. ...
.. ....... .... -.. .... .. .. ... .,. ..
.. .. ... ... .
.... -.. ...
... : ..: .,
.... .... .... .. ... . ...... ... .
..... e.-+ ..... ..... ... ..... .. -. .~ .
... . ...... ... ... ...... .. ..... ..
.. ..... ...
... ... ... .. ... . ~... .. -... ...
.. . .,... ...... ... .. .. . .... ...
: ...... ...... . ... c....
..... .. . ., -. .... ...... .. .. ....
.... -. ..... ..... .... . ......
... . .~ ... ... ...... .... ... . -....
. ....... ... .. ,. .. -.. .. .... .... ..
... . ...... ... . .... ... ... ..
....... ..... . ... ... ...... ..... ... ...
... ... .... ....... ..... ... ... .. . ...
..
-. .... .. .... .
... ... ... ...
. .. ... .... -. c.. .. ....
. .... . ..
... ..c... ... . ... ..... ... ... ..
..... .... ...... ... ..... ... ...... ... ....
... ... ..... ..... ..... ... .... ... .. ..
.. .... .. ... .... ... -.. ..... . . ... ..
. ..... .. ..., -.... .. . ... .
....... . .. ... ...... ..... .. ... ..... .
... . . .. ... ...... . ... ... .~.. -
~... .. .. ...... ... - ~.... ... ... .. .
.. ... ....
.. . .. .. ... .. ... -. ~... . -.c. ....
. ... .. . ... ... ... .. .. ........
.. ..
... .. ... .... ... ..... .. . . .. ... ..
... .... ........ . ...
... .. .._........ .. .~. ...... .... ..
........ .. .. ...
.. .. ... .
... ... .. . ... ... . .... .. ..
.... ...... ..... .. . . ..... ... .... .c
.. ...,.. .. . .... ..... ... .... ...
., ....... ... ... .... ...... .. ....
... . ..... .. .,... ...... ...
... .,.., ... .. . ...c ... . ... . ...
.. .. ... ... . ... .... ... .... ..
.. . .... .... . ... ..... ... .... ~..
..c
.,.. ... ..... ... ..
.... ... ........ ... .. . ...c ... ...
. . .
... .. .. .. .. ... ....... .....
........ ... ... .. . .... .. .. .. .... ..
... ...
.. ......... ., .~... .. .. ...... ..
..... -... .... .. ... .. . -... ...
.... .... .. ..., ... ... .....
... .. . . ........ .. .... ......
.. .. . ... ... ... .... . . ., .... . .,.
..~,
... ... .. ... -..
... ....
... .. .. .. .., .... ..,... ......... ...
... ... . ... ..... ... -...,
... ... ... . ... ..
.. . . ......... ... ... . ..-+ . ....
.... . -...... ...
,.. .. ... .. . . ...
... .. .... -.. .... .. ........ .....
.. ... .. ....., ... ...c . ... .. .. .....
.. . ., . .... ...., .. ..... ...
.. .. ... ... ,....
.. .. ... .,.. .....
... .-.. v ....
. .,
.... . ..... .... .. ..... .. .... ......
.. .... ...... .... . ..... ... ..... .. .. .
.. ..... .. .... .. . .... .. _. . ......
...... ... .... ...... ... ... . . .. c.
... ... -. ... ...... . .... .... ....
.., .... .... .. ... .. ..
..... . ...... .. .. .... . .. c .....
.... .... .,... .. .. c .. . .. ... .........
.. .... .. .. .. .... .... ....... .. .. ..
.~. .. ... ......... ... ... . .. .... ........
... ... ....... . .. ...... .. -.. ... ....
. c.... . .... .... . . ..c ..
.... ... . .. .... .... .... ... ....
.. . .. ....... ... . .. ... ....... .~ -..
. .~ ... . . .......
. . ... .. ....... ..... ... -.. . .. ....
.. . . .. ... ... ..... ..,........ ... ... .
..... .. . . .. ... ... ..... .... .......
.... -..... ............ ....c .. . .. ... -.
..... ......
..... ... .... ... ... ... .. .... ....
..... .. ..,.. .... .. .. ... .. ..... ...
.. ..... .~.. ... -.... ... .. ..,... ...
c. ... ...... ... ....... .~.. ... -.. . .....
..... .. ... . . . ... .. ... .. . ... .... ..
......... ... ... .. .. .. c.. .. ... ...
.. ... -......
.... . ..... .... .. .. .. .... ...
.... . .... .... .. .... ... -.. .. ....
-. ... c.. .... .. ... .......... ...... ...
.~.. c.c. - .. .~ ... . . ... ..... .... ...
. .~ . .,. .~. .. -. .. .. ........... -... .
.... - . .,
... -.. . -... . ...... .... c.. ...
. ..... .~... .. .. . .... ... . ....
...,. ... .. .. .. . . ..... .. ....
..... ..... ... . .. ... ... . .. -.. ... ..
.. .., .... ... . ... ...... . ......
.. ... .c..
. ... .. ... . ... ..,.... ... .....
.... ... . c..... ... .... ... .... ......
... ... ... ..... ..... ..... -... ......... ...
.. ... .. ..... ... ..... .. ... .. ...
. . .
. .... . -.. .. .. .. .... .. .. ... ..
... ... ... .... .,. ........ .. .. .. ..
...... . .... ..., .. .. ... .. -.. .......
.. -... ... .~. c.. .. ... c.. ... ... ....
... .. . .... . ....... ..... ....... .. .....
.. ... . -.. . . .. ..... .. .c.. ~.. ....
.. . . ... ..... ...... ......
... .... ..... .. . .... . ...... ....
...... .... . .... .. - .~. ..
. ... .., .,. .. ... . .~.. .... ..
..... . ... .. ~c .. .. .. .. .. ... ..
.... ...c
.. .. ... .. ... .c
- .~. .., ... .... .. .~. ... - . ... ....
.. - .~. .~. .. ..c ..,
.. ..
.. .~
... ... ........ .. -... .. ... ... ..
. .. ... ... ..
... . ....... .... .. .... ... .... ...
... .. ..... ... .. .. ... ..... ...... ..
... .... . .... ..., ..c . .... .. ..
.. . .,..~. ..... ......, . .. .. ... ... ..
... .. -...
.. ... ... .. ... ........ .. . . ....
..., .. .. .. ...... .....
.., ........ .. ..... . ... .. .. ... ......
. .... ... ......... .. ... ... .. ... .. .
... .. ...... ...... ......
.. .~ . .. .... . ... ... ........ ...
.. .. .... ..... -.... ... ..... ... ... .
... ... .. ..... -... ... ... -....
- ... .. .... .... ... ..... .. .. .. ... ..
..... .... ... ..... ... .. .. ..... .... ..
.... .. -.. ... .. ....... .... .....
. .. .. ... ....., .. -... . . ...... .,.
-.. ... .. .... ........ . ...... . .... ... ....
.., .. .... ..... .., ...
.. .. ... .... .~..
... ..... -... .. ... ......
... -.. .... .. -... .. .... .... ..... ..
...... .... ..... .... .... .. ...... .. .~.
... .. .. ... ... ..
. ....... . -. .... ... .. ..... . ...
.....
... ..... ... .. ... .. ...~ . ..c ...
..... . ... -. -. .......
.. -.. ...... . ., . ...... ... .... ...
.., ... . .... . ... .. ...., .. . ...
.... ..... .. ., .. .. . .. .... ...
..... ....-.
.. ..-
... .... . ... .. ... ....... .. .. .... .
-.. .... ... ...
... .... ... ... ., ... .....,..
..... ... ...
-.. .... . .. ... .... ... .... ... ..
.. ... .. .. ...... ... .... .....
. ... ...... ...
.... ., ... .~.. .., ... .. .. .. .......
.. .. ... .
... ..,.,. ... .~.. .. .... ..... .,. .,.
..... ... ... ... ... ...
...., .. ..... ... .... ......... .. ... ...
.... ......, .. ...... -.. ... . c...
-.. ...... .... ..., ..~... .. .... .... ....
..... .. ... .......
... ...... ... ... ...
. . .. .. ....... .... ..c ... .....
... ....... ......
-. . . .. . .. ..... ... ...
.., ... ...... .... ..,.... ... ... . .~...
.... ... ...
., ... ...... .. .. ... . . .. ..... ..
. . .. . .
.. .... .... .......... ..... .... .. .. ....
.....
.. .... . ... .....
. .... .. ....... . . . ..
.. .. .. .. .... -.. .... ...... ... ......
... ... . ..... ....
.. .. ..... .. .. ...... -. .. ........
,....
... ... ... -.. ... . ....... ... ........
.. ... . ... .. . ...... ...... ..
~..... ......... ....
.... .. ... ... .. ... ...
... ... .... .c. .... .. ... ... ., ......
. .. .. ...
..... .. ... ...
... ..... ... ... ... .... ..... ...... ......
- -.~.., ..... .. ... .... .. .... .......
...... ... ..... .. ... ...
... ...... . .
-.. .... .... .. ... .... .. . .. ... ....
. .. ..... .. . .. :+e ..
-... ........ .... .. .. .... .... ... ...
.,.. .... ..... .. ...... .... . .
.. ...... .... ...... . ..... .. ... ..
.. .. .... .
:+:+. -.. ...... .... ... . .... ........ ......
. ..... .... ...... ... ..... ..~ -. ....
.. .... ... ... :: .... ....
-. .... . ...,... .. .... ... . . ... ....
- .. .... ... .. .. ....... ... .... .. .
...... ... ..... .. .. . ....... ..... ..
.... ... .... ....... .. ... .. ... ..
.... ... . .. ....... .....
.... ... . ..... ...... ....... ..... ..
.........
.... ... .. .. ... . .. ....... ....... ....
. ...... ..... ... .... ... ... .. ....
.~.. -.. ....... . .... ..... ... ..... .......
.~.. ~... . ...... ... .. ... ..... ......
-.. ...... .. .... ... .. . . ..... ....
...... ... .... .c. .... .... ... ... ......
........ . .... .. ... . ...... ......
.... .c.. ...... .... .... ... .... .... ... ..
... ... ... .... ... .. ..... .. .... ...,..
..... ... .... .. .c. . ... ... .......
....... ...... .... .. ... .. ... ...,
..... ...
~... .. .... .. ...... ...
. ..... .. .. . .... .c. .... .... -.
.., ..... .... .... ...... ... ...... .... .....
.. ...... . .. .......
. ... . .... .~.... .c.. . ... .... ......
..~. ...... ..,. ...... .... ... ... ....
.... ......
.~.. ...... .. . ... . ...... ... .... ..
..... .. ..... .....
..... v ....
..- ... .....
.. ..... :s ...... ..... -... .. .....
.. ... ... ..~.. .. ._ ..... ..... . .,..
. .. . .
.... ..~ -.. ... .. .. .... ....
.. . . ..~ .. ... ... ... ..,. ..
..... ....c .... ... . .. ... ..
.. . .. .... ....
. .~ . ... ... .... ... ., ... ....
.. . . . ...~ -. ... .., .... ... .. .,
. . . .
.. ... ... ..... .. ... .... .... .. .~
..... . ... . ....... ... ... ... ......,
..... .... ... ..... . ... ..
... .....
.. . .. . .. ... .... ......, ..
...... .... ..... ... ... ...
. ... .. .
..... . . .... - . ..... .. ... -..
... .. .. ... .... ..... .. ...
.... ...
..... ..... ... .. . ., .... ...
. .
.. . .... .. ..... .......... ..
........ ... . ..c
. .... . ... . .... ......... -..
._... .. ....... ... . ..c ..... ..
...... .... .... .. ... .. ......
.. ... ....... ... .....
.. ..... .. ... . ....
... .. ....... . . ....... ..
. , ..
... .. .. .. ... ... -.. ..
.. .... ... ... ... ... ...
. .... . .. ._... .. .....
. .... ...... -.., .... ...
.... .., .. ... ..
.. . .. .,. .. .... .. .....
.... ... .. ..... . ..... ..
.. .... . ....... .. .. . ... .. .
.. .. .. .... .. .. . .. . ...
. ... ., .... ... .......
.. .. ... .. .. ...... ..
.. . -. .. .. .. . ... -. .. ..... ..,
... -.. ... ... .. ...... .. ..
. . .
.. .... ,. .... .. .. . ... .. ...
.. .,... ..... ... ....
.... . . .c .. ... . ... .. ..... .....
... . ... .. ... ...... .. .
.... ... .. -.. -.. .... . .c..
... ..... ..... . .., .... ... ..
.... .... .. ..
. .... . ... . .... ......... -..
._... ..
....... ... . ..c ..... .. ...... ....
.... .. ... .. ......
.. ... ....... ... ..... .. ..... ..
... . ....
... .. ....... . . ....... ..
. , ..
... .. .. .. ... ... -.. ..
.. .... ... ... ... ... ... .
.... . .. ._... .. .....
. .... ...... -.., .... ...
.... .., .. ... .. . ... ., ....
.. . .......
.. . -. .. .. .. .. .. ... .. ..
...... .. . ... -. .. ..... ..,
... -.. ... ... .. ...... ..
.. ...
.. .... ,. .... .. .. . ... .. ...
.. .,... ..... ... ....
.... . . .c .. ... . ... .. ..... .....
... . ... .. ... ...... .. .
.... ... .. -.. -.. .... . .c..
... ..... ..... . .., .... ... ..
.... .... .. ..
.... ... .. .. ... ....
.... . .. . . .. .... -. ... ...
...... . ... .. .....c. . ...... .
.. .. ...... . ~. ....... -...
-.. ... . .. ... .... .. ....
.. ..
.... . .. . .. ....,. ..
... . .~. ... -. .... .... .... .....
.... . .. -.. ... .., . .. .. ..
.. .. .. ,
... . .. c.. .. .. .... . ..... ....
..... ... .. -. .... . ... ..
-.. .. ..,. .. .. ..... .., ....
.... .. ...
.... . ..
... . .... ... ... ... . ... ..
-.. .... .. ..... ..... .....
.... ...
.... . .. ... ..,.. . .. ... ..... ..
........... ..,
.. . .,.. ....
.... . .... ... ... . .. . ... . ... ... .
.. . .. . .
. . . .~...
.... . .~... .., ... ..
.. . .... ... . .. .c.c. ..... ..... . .c
... .... ....
.... . .. ... .... .. ... .. ... ..... .
. .. ... ... .... - .... .
.. ... . ... .
.... . -... ... .. ...... . .. ... ...
.... .... .. .......... ...
.. . . ._ .. ... .. ... .. .. ....
... ... ...
.. . . .
... . .. ... ... .. -..., . ....
..... ..... ...
.... ..,... .. .. ... .. . ......
.... . . .. . ... . .. ....
.. . .... .. .~..
.... . - . . .... ......
... -.. ... ..
.. . ... ... .. ..... ...
... . -. .... . ... .. ... .. ..... ....
.....
.. ... .... ... .. ....
.. .
... . ... .. .. .... . .. .... ..
... ..c...
......, ... .. .c. .... ... ....
.. .
.. . .. .... . -.. . ... . ...
-.. .. ... .... .. .....c ....
.... .. ., ... ..... ..c.
..... .c.. .. ... ......
.... ....... -. ., .... ...
... ... ..c .... .. .... .. .... ..
... .c. .. ... .... ...... .. ... ..
.. .... -.. ....... . .. ..
....... ....... ... ..... ..
-. -.. ..... .... .. .. .....
.. . ..
... 1o ....
.-.. .c
.. ... .. ....... ,. . ........ .. ... ... .. ....
,... .. .. .. ........ . .... ... ... ...
.. c ,. .. . .... ... .. . ... .,.... -.
... ...... ...... . c .. ... ....
..... ... .. ... . .... ... ...~ .....
.... .c. ..... ... ... .. ...... .. ...
.... . .. ... ... . ....... . ... ...
c .. .. . .,. .... ......... . ..... .,. .
.... .... .. . ... .. ... ... . .,. -..
.. . . .. .... ...... ... ... ... ...
... .. ........ ......, .. ... .. . .,. ...
... ...... .. ... .... ... ... . .,. .. ......
.. ... .... ... . . .. ...... ...
... ..... . .,. .. ... ., .. ... ..
..... ... ... . ... ... ., .. ... . . -..
.c. .. .... .. ...
.. ........., .. ... .... .... ... -.
... .... ... .,. .. .. .. . . . ... .. .
.. .. .. .... ..... .. ....
.... .... ... .. . .,.. ...... . ...
.. .... ..... ...... ... .... ..... . .. ... .
... -..... . c ....
.... o ....
:. ...
..... ...
.... .,...,
..... ..
..... ..
.... ....
. -.. ...
. ... .
. . ...
.... o ....
-.. ... ..: .-.
..... .. ... ... .. .. ... . .. ... ..
... .... ... .... ........ ...... ..
.... ... .... .. ~.... .. ...... ........
-.. .~.. .. ... . ... .~.. ... ... .~ .
...... ..... ...... ...... - ..... c. . ..
.... ...... ...c. .... . .. .. ... c
.. .. .. ,.. .... .. ._... ..... . ._...
... .... ..... ... ..... ... .. .. .. ....
... .. -. ... -. ... ... ... ... ... ...
.... ... .... ... .. .. ... ... .... ... ..
.. -, ... . .. .. ... .... .. ... ...
.... . ._... .. ... ..... .. ... .. ..... ..
..... ... -.. ... . .... . ... .. .. - ..
... ~.. ... . . .... ..c.... .... .,.
.... .. ..... .... ...... .. -.. ._....
..... ... . .. ~... ... ... ..... . ... ..
.. .. .. .. ....
.. ... .. . . . ._... ...... .. ... ... .
._... ..... ..... .. .. .. . ... ... .
._... ..... ._... . . ...... ...
......... ... .. .... . . .... ... .. ...
.... ... ..... -.. .... ..... ....
...
. -. . .
. ...
... ..
. ...
.~ ..... ....
. ...
.,... .....
. ...
._..... .......
. ...
..... .....
.. ...
... .. ...
.. ... .. ..
..... o ....
.. ..... .
..c ...
..c
. . ..
. . . ..
.. .
._.....
... .. . .... . ..... .. ..... .. ....
. ..... ... .... . ..... .... .. .....
... .... ..... .. .~. ..... ... ..... ..
. .. .. .. .. ... ..... ... ......... ...
... .... -.. .... .... .. . . ..... .....
....... . .. ... . ..... ..... .... .. ..
... . ..... . . .... ... ... .... ..
... . . ..... ....... ..... .. . .
..... .. ..c.....
... . ..... ..c.... ... .. ... ...
.......
. ..... ._ ... ~... ... .... ..... ...~.
... .... ... ..... . .. ... ... .....
... ... ...
... ... ..... .....
.
... ...
.. .. ....
c.. ... :++-
......
._. .... ....
. . ..
...... ...
: . ..... = ...
: ... ... c.. .. :+-- = ... .,. :+::
.. o ....
.-.. .,..
: .. ...... ..., ... .. ....... ..., ..... . ..
... .. ...,.... ..., ...... . .. ... .. . ....
..... .. .
~.. . .....
: . .... .... . ...
~.. . e +
- .. ..... -: . ....... .... .. ..... ... ....
.... ..... .. ..... ... .... ... ....... .....
.... ..... -.. ...~.. .... .... ..... .. .. .
.. .. .
~.. . ... ... ......... ...... ........ ~..
.... .. ..... ....
~... ..... .. .... .. .....
..... .. ..... .....
.. .... .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .... .. ..
. .... ... .. .... -.. ... . ... . ., .
... ..... .. .c...., .. . ... -.. ...
.... .. .. .. ...,. ... ..... .. .. ..
.. ... .. .. .. ...
... ...,. .. ... .. ..... .........
.... . .. ... ... . .... ... ... .... ..
.., -.. . ... ... .. . ..c ...... .. .., ... .
....... ... ... .. .. .. .... . .... .. ...
.... ... .c.. .......... -.. ~... ... .. ...
... .. ... c...
... .. ... .. .... .. .. .., -
.. .., .. .. .. .. ... .... . ..., .... .
.. ... ... ... .. .. .... .. ... .... ..
...
. .~ .. ... . .. ... ... . ... .. . .......
... .. ...,. ....... .. ... ... ...... .....
.. .. .. ... .. . .... . . . . ... ... .
.. ... .. ... .. ... ..... -.. .... .... ..
.. ........ .....
..~.. .. ..... .. ..... .. . -. ..... ...
... -... c.. .
.... o ....
- ...-. ...-..
. ... ... ...... . .... .. ~.. ... ....
.. . . .... ... .. ..... ... ... . ... ...... ...
... ~. ~. .,.. ..... .. ... ... .. . ....
.. ... ..... .....
... ... ..... ...... ...... .... ....
... . .. ... ..... .... ...... ... .,~ ......
.. .... ...... ..... ... .... ... .. ...
....... ...... .. .. ... . ..... . ...
.. .. ...... .c... . . .. ...... ..
... .. .... .... . .. ..... .. ... ......
..... .. .. ..... . ..... .. .. . ...
..... -.. .... .. .
.... ..... ...,.. ... . ...... ..... .....
... .. .,.. .... ~ ..... ... ..... .. ....
..... . -. ..... ... . .... ....... -.. ....
... ...... ..... ... ... .. .
.. o ....
.. ....
: . ... ...
..... ....
.,. ...
.. .,..
... ...
.... ~. ..
: . ... ...
... . ..
.... .,.
.... ..
... ~.
......... . ..
.... o ....
. .
. .... ... .~.~. .. .... .. .. .. ...... ..
~. -. .,. .. .... ..... .. .. .. . ......
... ... .. ... .... - .... . ..... .... ..,.
-.. -. ..... ... ~... .....
.. ..... .. ..,... ...... .. .. .... ...
... .... ... ....... ... .. ... .... .... .
... ... ..... ... ... .~ .., ..... .
.... .. .. .. .... ... ... .. ... ... .....
... .. ..... . .~ ... .,.. ... c... ... .
.. .. ... .. . ....... ...
.. o ....
.c. .. .....
...~ .. ... .. ..... . ...c .... . ..... ...
.. .. .. ........ ...c .... ..... ...c. ..
.... ...c .~ .... .... ..... .. .. ... ..... ..
-.. ~... .... .. ..... ... ... .... .... ..
...~ ...c . ... . ..... .. .. .... ......
.... ... .... . ..... . ... .~.. ......
.. . .~.. . . .... ...~. ..... .... ...
.....~ .. ...... .. .... .. .. ... c.. .. ..
... ..., ...... .. ..
.. .. ..... ...... .. ._.... .. ....
.. .. ,. .. .. .. .. ..... ..
.,.. .. .. ,.... . ..... ... .... ..... ..
-.. . ..... . ..... ... ...... .. ...... ....
.... .~ . . ..c ... .. ... .... .... .
.~.. .. ....... ... . ...... ............
....... ... .. .. .. .. .. .. .... .......
.. ..~ .. .. ... .. .... ... .... .. .. ....
. ... ... .... .. -...
.... .. .. ...... .. ... .. .... .. .. .. ..
..c ... .. .. .. ..c .. ...... .... .. ...
. ...,.. .. .... .. ...... .... .~ .. ....
~.... .. .. ... .. .. .. ... ...
.. ... .. . ...,.. .. ...
.... ....... ..... .... .. ... .... .,.. ...
.... .... .. ..... .. ... .. .. .. ... ..
...... .. .,.. .. ,. ... .. . .,. ..
.... .. .... .. .. ... .. .. .... .... ..
....
.... ....... .. -. .. .... ....c.. -...
....... .... .c.... ....... ... ...... ..... -. ..
... .. ..... .. ... ... .c. ... .....
... .... .... .~. .c... .. .... ...
..... o ....
..
.. ... ... .. ... ... ... .. ...... ....
..... .. .. -.. ... .... .... .... .. ... ..
.... ... .......
... .. ....... ... .. ... .. ... .. ...
.. .~. .. ... .c... .. ... . ... ..
..... .... ... .. .. .. ... .. .. . .. ....
.. .. . .... .. .... ...... . ..... .. ..
... . .. .. ...... ..
... ... . .... .. ...c .... ...~... ....
....... ... .. ... .... . .... ..... .....
... . .... ... .. ... .... .. . .... ..,
. .... ... .... .... . .. .... . . .. .... .....
...... .., ....... ..... . ..
... ....... ..... ... .... ....... .. ..
... . .. .......
... . .... ... . ... . ......... .. .
... ...... .. .. ...... .... ..... .....
....... ...
..... .. ........ ~..,.... ......... ..... ..
.... ....... ... -... ... .. ..... ... ..
....... . ... ......
.-.. + ....
A Special Feature ...
A Letter...
February 19, 2011
To
The Chairperson and Members of the National Advisory Council (NAC)
From
Class XI Rishi Valley School, Rishi Valley Education Centre, Madanapalle, Chittoor, Andhra
Pradesh
Dear Madam and other honourable members of the NAC, we the students of Class XI Rishi
Valley School have been studying the issue of Food Security as part of our General Studies
programme. We have been looking at it from the point of view of production, consumption
and distribution (entitlements) and also on a global scale. In this context we have been
following the proposed Framework for the National Food Security Bill being drafted by
the NAC with great interest.
We ourselves live in a rural setting and see the problems of small farmers, goatherds and
shepherds on a daily basis. We also see evidence of malnutrition due to lack of access to
nutritious food. We would therefore like to offer our comments / suggestions regarding
the following specific points for your kind consideration in the hope that help will come to
these small farmers through the National Food Security Act (NFSA):
I.The Intent and Scope of the Proposed NFSA
II.Coverage under the NFSA and its Financial Sustainability
III.Sustainability both Ecological and Social in terms of Production
IV.Regarding Procurement
V.Welfare Programmes involving Destitutes and Others
VI. Systems of Enforcement and Transparency
The rest of this letter will elaborate on the above points providing a rationale for
the various comments / suggestions that we are submitting for your kind
consideration.
I. The Intent and Scope of the Proposed NFSA
Our great former Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru in his famous Tryst with Destiny speech
at the advent of independence spoke of the need to wipe every tear from every eye. It is
a matter of shame that more than 60 years after independence millions of our countrymen
go to bed hungry every night and many million more are malnourished, and (especially in
the case of children) are therefore condemned to sub-human lives. We therefore fully
endorse the larger objective of the proposed National Food Security Act (NFSA) to ensure
adequate nutrition for everyone over their entire life-cycle. This for us is not a question of
debate. We rather see it as an obligation of any humanitarian state in the modern world.
We also therefore urge that the phrase nutritional security be explicitly included in the
definition of food security in the NFSA.
Coverage under the NFSA and its Financial Sustainability
We therefore fully endorse the NAC stand on universal coverage. This is to ensure that
nobody falls through the loop especially in this time of continuing food inflation. The
argument that this is financially sustainable has been put forth clearly by the NAC and
other economists. The argument to the contrary however, loses credibility in the face of
the enormous subsidies, both overt and hidden, which are being given to particular sections
of the economy and which are increasingly capturing the limelight nowadays.
Sustainability both Ecological and Social in terms of Production We find here
that the NACs reflections need to be developed further. We go along with their
argument that with existing growth rates in production and procurement we should not
have a serious difficulty in provisioning the PDS with adequate grain for universal coverage
over the next few years. However we would like to point out the following:
(i) As noted by the National Commission of Farmers Report Jai Kisan: Revised National
Policy for Farmers
4
th October, 2006 draft note itself, both production and productivity
over the past 10 years in Green Revolution has tended to go down (Section 1.1.1). This is
consonant with Green Revolution farming experience all over the world. Production levels
are plateauing if not declining with Green Revolution agriculture. Soils and environments
are getting degraded and farmers indebtedness is growing. It is therefore crucial as a long-
term policy to:
a) shift the focus away from Green Revolution farming which concentrates on
areas with assured irrigation and on the better-off farmers (Betting on the
Strong) to cover the entire spectrum of farmers and crops in the country,
especially the so-called subsistence farmers. This shift would be a return to
the intent of the First Agrarian Policy in the country which focussed on
institutional reforms in agriculture;
b) strengthen the productivity of subsistence farming through adequate credit
arrangements;
c) help subsistence farmers to improve the fertility of degraded lands, especially
common property resources. MGNREGA programmes in rural areas should be
directed towards this end;
d) to develop an adequate livestock policy to strengthen the economy of
subsistence farming.
(ii)This shift in policy requires a far more decentralised approach drawing on the
capabilities of civil society (NGOs, Gramsabhas, traditional communities etc.). We feel
that such an approach would strengthen productivity of subsistence farming, increase
production, generate more self-employment in the countryside, increase incomes and in
the long-run generate a greater marketeable surplus. Even in the short-run by enhancing
livelihoods and production it would reduce the dependency of the rural population on
the PDS system and therefore ease the fiscal burden of the State. Moreover, sustainable
non-chemical based agriculture, which is practiced in rainfed areas is much less dependent
on costly external inputs (in this context the work of people like Subhash Palekar and
others should be taken note of). Much of what is said here is also emphasized in the
National Commission of Farmers Jai Kisan Report.
(iii) In the argument of the NAC that productivity can be increased from 100-300%, we feel
that sufficient note is not being taken of the role of agronomic conditions. Comparisons of
yield for a given crop across countries without considering these agronomic conditions is
not accurate. E.g. data from FAO 2006-2007 shows that the United States with all its advanced
technology has productivity yields in wheat just comparable with India (2.60 Metric tons /
ha and 2.63 Metric tons / ha respectively) and much lower than the technologically
backward Egypt (6.43 metric tons/ha). This is simply because of differences in agronomic
conditions. Therefore the belief that reliance on Green Revolution or for that matter
biotechnology will continuously increase crop yields is misplaced. Crucial is the gradual
improvement of agronomic conditions through the use of ecologically sustainable farming
practices. Hence our emphasis on subsistence farming.
IV. Regarding Procurement
We fully endorse the need for decentralised procurement as this would be more
economical (less burden on the State), give incentive to production of millets and oilseeds
which suffered under the Green Revolution policies, improve nutritional levels and
preserve cultural diversity of our farming populations.
Inclusion of millets and other nutritious grains in the food basket is endorsed strongly
not only because of its role in improving nutrition but also because it will go a long
way in improving
livelihoods of the small and marginal farmers particularly in rain-fed areas.
V. Welfare Programmes involving Destitutes and Others
These programmes may be essential for many years to come and the State must take
responsibility for them. However, many communities, charitable organisations and so on
are undertaking activities in this regard. It is important for the State to work in tandem with
them and not displace them. On the contrary, over time, given the tradition of Daan in
our country the State should endeavour to phase itself out of this activity and play a purely
enabling role thereafter. Food security is not only the responsibility of the State but Civil
Society as well and in the long run the burden of this responsibility must be borne largely
by Civil Society with the State playing an enabling / regulatory role. Hence in the long run
the problem of subsidies will be considerably reduced.
Systems of Enforcement and Transparency
We strongly endorse the emphasis on the need for systems of enforcement and
transparency and the need for independent third party organisations to monitor the
functioning of NGOs and /or Government agencies / community based organisations to
ensure greater transparency.
We find the idea of a DGRO interesting but the modalities of its functioning must be very
carefully worked out.
We sincerely hope that the Government will enact an NFSA that will realise Jawaharlal
Nehrus vision at the time of Independence and is truly able to wipe every tear from
every eye.
Thanking You
Sincerely

The Response...

Magazine'10 11

Uploaded by

Copyright:

Available Formats

Magazine'10 11

Uploaded by

Document Information

Copyright

Available Formats

Share this document

Share or Embed Document

Sharing Options

Did you find this document useful?

Is this content inappropriate?

Copyright:

Available Formats

Magazine'10 11

Uploaded by

Copyright:

Available Formats

What are some of the events covered in the school magazine?

What subjects are covered in the 'Live it up with Languages...' section?

Rishi Valley School School Magazine 2010-2011 1

You might also like