Sambandha - Shibumi Magazine 21-22

["Cricket and Me Mahiti (14) One thing I can do without interruption is play cricket. Ever since I was ten I would steal some time to go and play. Ganesh uncle would pull me back but eventually he had to accept that he couldn't stop me. As I kept playing I met new people and made fun and easy-going friends. It is only while I spent time learning and watching cricket that I realized how much work actually goes into becoming a cricketer. When I perform well I think to myself Wow I can actually do this But when my performance isn't satisfactory my mood and attitude plunges. Even so, I eagerly wait to play cricket again, whether it's in the boiling heat or the sluggish mornings. I spend hours at school and at cricket which doesn't leave me with much time for anything else. I like to do at least one other thing that helps me loosen up and distract my mind everyday, such as reading comics, watching a show\/match, playing with friends or(very rarely) do my homework. ough cricket is something I love, only playing it made me detached from people other than those I met through school or coaching, but doing things that relaxed myself has helped me communicate with them better. From Soccer to Football Om B. (13) I am writing about football as I really enjoy the sport. I think the rst time I kicked a football was when I was four or ve. I play football almost everyday, though I didn't play too much in the US, (At Least not as much as I do now in India) and I recently started to go for coaching as well. Some of the things I like the most about football are the times when you feel like you can pull o anything when the ball is at your feet. Once, a really tall and big keeper was running towards me from the goal and there was a defender running towards me from the back, the ball lobbed up in the air, and I twisted 180 degrees to kick the ball over the keeper who then quickly turned directions and sprinted into the goal. But the ball had already sailed over his head directly into the goal Even the times when you are just zipping by those big and tall opponents, they can't stop you whatever they may try. But not everything about football is good, some of the things I dislike about football is when you don't have any motivation to play and nothing is working or when you are playing well but the eld is as crowded as a Mumbai railway station so when you do get the ball a few people immediately encircle you like hungry hyenas a er a sack of meat. But then you know that to get better you have to keep practicing and playing. - 51 -","- 52 -","- 53 -","My Tribe Akashdeep is is a story before the time of social media and smart\/digital devices. Photos were printed. Collecting objects like coins and stamps was a common hobby. Abhinav was turning nine and he wanted to call all his friends to a grand celebration. It was more than a usual birthday for him. In a few days, he was moving with his parents to a new city. It was far away from the town where he had spent all his life. is was a big change for him. Memories of the time he spent with friends were crossing his mind. He wanted to hold on to those. He asked his parents to hire a photographer to capture the last moments with his tribe. He was going to keep an album of the photos from that get-together. e much awaited day came. e evening was lled with laughs, food and good wishes for Abhinav. Like it happens with all good moments of life, time ew away. But he said to himself, e photos will never let these moments slip out of my life A few days later, while packing his bag, he kept the photo album with care. He wrapped it in a towel to save it from any damage. Along with it, he kept another album. It had hundreds of stamps that he collected over several years. Most of these stamps were from letters that his father used to receive. He also had some very old stamps that his uncle gave to him. is is why his friends had given him the title of the best stamp collector . e two albums sat together in the bag as it moved hundreds of kilometres away. At his new school, he found a culture di erent from what he was used to. It was di cult to relate with his classmates. He started to miss his old friends. He would o en go back home and sit with the photo album. Remembering his old friends, he had a strong desire to be part of a group. One day he approached a few of his classmates during lunch break. ey ignored him initially but later walked away and told him to not disturb them. is incident was too much for him to handle. at day, he was both angry and sad. Fighting with his mother, he exclaimed, It is your mistake to move to this stupid city and I am paying the price for it. e mother tried explaining the complexity of the situation that led to this move but no explanation helped him calm down. e photo album also seemed lifeless. e pleasant memories of the past had no power to resolve the unpleasantness of the present. His mother was also reminded of the old Abhinav . She thought, His friends used to value him so much. He was also looked up to for his stamp collection\u2026Oh He has the stamp album. Can he get some attention by showing it to his new classmates inking all this she looked around for it with her restless eyes. It was lying at the edge of a shelf. She took the next een minutes explaining to Abhinav that all he needs is to show it to his classmates. He agreed. e next day at school, when everyone was leaving for lunch, he took the album out. He started to adjust some stamps in the folders to catch the attention of those around. In no time, he was surrounded from all sides. As he nished showing his album, he was asked by others to join them for lunch as they wanted to know more about his hobby. is initiated his interaction with others and soon he had a group to belong to. He kept adding stamps to his collection but the photo album lost its importance. He was all absorbed experiencing and collecting new memories. One day, near the water point, he overheard a conversation among some of his classmates. Not realising that he is around, they were calling him an attention seeker . One of them said, He thinks so high of himself that he needs - 54 -","others to always praise him and look at him as if he is someone special. Another said, is is why no one felt like talking to him and then he brought his album to show-o . Only a loser would do that. Abhinav was shocked to listen to all this. He walked back from the spot. ere was something in him that did not want to accept all that was said. Suddenly, his mind was trying to forget it as if he never heard anything. He told himself things that helped him ignore it. He thought, ey are just jealous of me. I have a nice group of friends and should not bother about what others say. He never told anyone about this incident. Even in his memories, it was pushed to the corner and hidden just like the photo album. Tanu - 55 -","Can't Win 'Em All Nachiket (14) e strenuous win or the lengthy grind, Become reruns I cannot banish from my mind. A crushing loss or a quick defeat, All my other thoughts beat a swi retreat. Why do I like winning so much Having victory within a nger's touch A little rush of adrenaline People tell me it's a sin. To me the best about the winning run, Is the satisfaction a er the job well done. And to see that I have got some skill, at the old talent lingers still. ( ough the times I've got lucky are countless, Fate has jumped in a lot,to stop many a mess.) And why does being beaten feel so bad e very opposite of what I should have had. e moment about losing I abhor, Is when my chances move out the door. I also hate getting overpowered, And my mood for the day is soured. Yet a loss brings you down to earth as well, If you've been thinking you can send anyone to hell. I have always,always played intense, In being lazy I see no sense. Everyone declares It's only a game I cannot think of it the same. Runner up or triumphant e rst has had me shed tears since I was an infant. Sometimes I tell myself Don't be so glum Can't you understand You win some,lose some. - 56 -","- 57 -","Silence - Bhaskar - 58 -","To Speak or Not to Speak Prakriti (17) My conversations with people had become short and blunt. e topics ranged from What did you do today to Yeah, me too, hmm, uh huh . I never noticed this change until one day, when I was talking to a close friend, it struck me all of a sudden, that most of our conversation revolved around matters of no signi cance. From then on, much to my irritation and frustration, every time I wanted to say something, a tiny voice at the back of my mind (evidently now inching towards the reins of power) insistently and consistently pricked me with an agonising yet all too true question \u2013 But isn't that a futile statement I must say, not all the things I talked about with people fell into the category of pointless , perhaps something like, How are you feeling today or What do you enjoy doing . A few of these questions and interactions yielded interesting replies that didn't automatically end in habitual agreements, insigni cant arguments, some routine criticisms, meaningless nods and uncomfortable, nervous laughs. But the point was that the energy required for socialising with people (and, astonishingly, it requires quite a lot of it), had disappeared, and all I wanted was to be le joyously, happily, alone, where my energy wasn't being unnecessarily dissipated in small talk. Over the days, I slowly got used to not talking much with people, and (surprisingly or shockingly) I found it quite easy, and it didn't feel like I was missing out on much. In fact, I began to nd it increasingly harder to make and prolong a conversation with friends, rethinking and over thinking, evaluating, re - evaluating and analysing, eventually being le with absolutely nothing whatsoever to talk about, anxiously waiting and pleading for someone to come along and alleviate this seemingly humongous burden of talking o of me. I could no longer remember how I used to chatter away for hours on end, where the silences were nonexistent, and where, even if they were present, they were absolutely comfortable. I am not sure what exactly the cause was, but I can say that Covid had surely played a role in it. It had shi ed all my conversations from physical interactions to a tiny screen, where you couldn't even see the person while talking. However, I don't think it's all on Covid. I felt there was a change in my perspective about conversations as well. e awkwardness and all the rest of it arose when I actually asked myself hard questions like, Am I saying this to attract attention and Do I say things that I truly feel, or am I putting up a show to please the other person However, I think my social skills are slowly but surely returning. Unfortunately, it didn't change overnight, but I've noticed that my interactions have evolved and become more comfortable. e pauses that creep into the interactions seem more natural and less of a tsunami in my head where I'm racking my brain for anything (God, help me ), absolutely anything to prolong the conversation for another minute at least. I still think I talk about irrelevant proceedings most of the time, but I feel more involved in the discussion, and whenever I don't feel like talking anymore, I accept it and stop talking. is acceptance has really wiped away any residual awkwardness in me, because I'm not battling the ideal and the reality, which is that I should be talkative, but I'm unable to be that way. I'm very glad and relieved that I no longer count the number of minutes my conversations last at least - 59 -","e Awkward Sound of Silence Rukmini (16) I recently re-learned the art of speaking to people. To people who existed in real life, at least; messaging had never been a problem or required much e ort. But conversations had, not too long ago. I had become tired of the e ort it took to keep them going. Socializing was a chore to be pushed through. Every discussion was punctuated by long periods of silence as I desperately wracked my brain for new topics to introduce. I welcomed the arrival of a third person with relief; the burden of conversing was taken o me. Sometimes I became angry; it seemed (to my warped perspective) as though I was always the one constantly asking questions, doing my best to draw people out, while the other person made no e ort to contribute to the conversation (although the one topic on which I found most people had plenty to say was themselves). Upon re ection, I think others did try to engage as well. However, my general mood at this point was self-pitying and gloomy, and this, no doubt, heavily coloured my outlook on life. e conversation dilemma persisted. Overwhelming boredom and fatigue a icted me each time I socialized. Eventually I stopped trying, preferring to listen to others' conversations instead. No one else appeared to have my disease. On the other hand, their discussions didn't seem to be all that interesting either. eir method of conversation appeared to be based on seizing a totally inconsequential remark from the other person and prolonging it far beyond the point where I would have let the matter drop. I came to the conclusion that talking was, on the whole, somewhat unnecessary. Coming back to school changed this morbid opinion. Silence at school didn't seem that awkward; if no one was talking, I was content to just listen to the birds, watch the trees and the sky, and feel the wind blowing. A wise sage of my acquaintance remarked upon this as well: 'You know,' this venerable elder said, 'if there's a break in a conversation at school, it's not awkward at all.' I now look forward to talking to people and no longer have to keep scrambling for words like I used to. Conversations ow more easily. However, I am also slightly more aware of how much time is spent in just useless chatter that is simply not needed. Sometimes it is necessary to stop for a bit and let other (non-human) beings be heard. Change Suhaan (16) I struggle to cope with change, and lately there has been a lot of it in my life, for example changing schools, shi ing to a di erent apartment, and even a change in my social circle. In this struggle I have come to a realization. If I am not willing to change, I am not giving myself room to grow. If I am not giving myself room to grow, am I really alive - 60 -","ings I Value in a Relationship Lia (15) When I heard about the topic relationships, I started thinking about what I value most in a relationship. I started connecting it with my daily interactions with people. It wasn't really hard to gure out what made the people who are close to me so special and di erent from the rest. I realised that every relationship that I value is based on the same things. If we had a choice, wouldn't we spend most of our time with people we consider fun Fun doesn't always have to be doing crazy things, just talking to someone whose company you really enjoy can be great fun. But that doesn't mean you take people for granted. Messing with people just because you are having fun is one of the cruellest things to do. A simple joke can hurt someone really badly. A relationship has to be a two-way thing, that's when it works. If one person thinks they are more important than the other and that only their happiness matters, things are going to get messy. Sometimes you have to do things that might hurt you or might be hard to do. When you are angry with someone you say stu that you may not mean. It is really important to think about what you say when you are upset because it can a ect your relationship permanently. What annoys me most is when people create unnecessary drama. ey get upset and make up all sorts of stories. Just being straight forward can make things so much easier. In every relationship either with friends or family one of the things I value most is trust. Trust is something that is really hard to earn and very easy to lose. Once someone breaks that trust it is never the same again. at doesn't mean you accuse people of doing things they said they would never do. In a relationship if there is no trust no matter how much care, a ection or love there is, it just doesn't work. No matter how hard you try, a relationship without trust just does not have any meaning. Everyone deserves a second chance; mistakes happen and that is not in our control but what we do about the mistake is. When you actually feel bad for what happened and are ready to make things right, you should be allowed to try. One mistake cannot de ne a relationship. Not always do we have everything that we want in a relationship. But when we do, do we actually value it When someone is trying their best to make your relationship work do you help them or do you just take them for granted Relationships where both of you have the same energy, can have fun, make jokes without hurting anyone, take things seriously when necessary and stand up for each other, are the best. I wish more relationships were like that. - 61 -","- 62 -","- 63 -","My Relationship with Sounds Sidharth (16) Sounds ey are everywhere and you can never nd a place or time without some amount of noise, and I, being a music producer, love them. In this article I will show you ve cool aspects of sounds and my favorite ways to work with them. Modulating sounds Sounds can be modi ed and modulated in many ways. Whether it is on a computer or in daily life, you will be able to nd at least three ways of manipulating the sound. For example, when Das hammers a nail into a piece of wood and you are next to him, you hear a \\\"Ting of the hammer hitting the nail. en the uuk of the hammer hitting the wood once the nail has sunk a bit. Finally, the ump of the hammer sending impact to the table through the wood piece. But as you go further away from the carpentry shed, the Ting fades away, then the uuk and if you go far enough the ump will fade too, which means that a sound sounds di erent at di erent distances. ere are many other ways to modulate sound, especially digitally. With around twenty-six types of digital audio modulations and e ects at a user's disposal, the possibilities are endless. You can turn Hi-hats to basses, snares to guitars, and a lot more If you know how to use them and what results you are looking for, you will be able to create the sound you need. For me personally, this makes working with sounds quite the experience. When I hear a sound, I try to see in my mind how I could change it, and if the sound is interesting and changeable, I record it. Flavors Pitches or combinations of pitches have assorted avors. A Chord is a stack of combined pitches played at the same time and melodies are some notes played in a pattern or combination. Each chord or note has its own avor. Minor chords are sad and Major chords are happy. But when played with A minor, F major gives a sad tone. And when played with G diminished, usually a very jarring chord, C sharp minor sounds happy. A and F usually have a sadder tone, but with C, A sounds happy and with a higher D, F becomes very energetic. is almost makes it a mystery for me when I try to make melodies or chord progressions, and I love a little mystery. No sound is ever weird Every sound will have its use and I have never decided not to record a sound because it sounds weird. From the clunks of back-hoes, to the screams of babies, they can all be used as percussion, leads and more. To add to these, one of the twenty-six types of e ects I mentioned is Auto-tune, which helps me put the sound in the key I want and once that is done, nothing stops me from using it. e other reason you can call a sound weird is because of the way it is being used. For example, bongos are not usually considered weird when you use them as percussion, but as a lead synth at would not be considered normal for sure But it does not seem like Jonas Aden and Connor Ross cared about convention, as all the sounds playing the main melody in their song Library ugs, are all di erent variations of bongos. Which is also surprising to the listener, as they sound more like pluck sounds than bongos. When I started producing music, I had a set of rules when it came to the sounds I use according to what I want to use them as. But a er I watched the video on how Jonas Aden and Connor Ross made the song (it's on Aden's channel) I started to realize that the only real rule, when it comes to music, is that it should sound good. Hearing is the most in uential sense Aristotle put vision before everything. But he lived in 300 BCE and this is 2022. Since it is much easier to live without one or two of our senses, a question had arisen in my mind. What is the most in uential sense of our body A er a bit of - 64 -","research and observation I have concluded that hearing could be that sense. According to neuroscientist Seth Horowitz, [Y]ou hear anywhere between 20 to 100 times faster than you see . According to NPR.org the sense of hearing is the rst to tell our brain what's going on. But of course, these sources could be wrong, which is why I shall prove them right. Picture this- You are in the AV room writing your article, what do you hear Sharad Bhaiya explaining something to Kabeer, or the back-hoe moving mud. Maybe Tandi conversing with Ale, or Anmol explaining the rules of a made-up game to Eksha and Arpan. But you know it is 'Sharad' 'explaining' something to 'Kabeer' without really seeing it happen (note the marked words). You know it's Sharad, and that he is explaining something to Kabeer because of the tonal di erences between their voices, and the tonal changes of their voice in di erent situations. All this has been registered in your brain and you can tell what's going on without looking. is justi es the sources and my conclusion. How important Silence is to our experience of Sound and Music e gaps between your ngers are more real than your ngers . is is part of what Osho said, when asked about silence. is statement means that silence is more permanent than sound. Sound would not really exist without silence. Hearing is also a sense that works using relativity, sounds that we keep hearing eventually just fade away and become part of our silence. So, if there weren't breaks in between songs, then a er some time you will get bored of the song, because it starts becoming old. When music scorers score music for lm scenes, they add silence between scenes of di erent moods. is adds suspense. Remember I said hearing is the most in uential sense is just proves that conclusion. You see when the viewer watches the movie, he\/she unknowingly relies on the music to predict what's going to happen next. So, when there is silence, there is suspense. Silence, for a DJ, is also an e ective way of transitioning between two tracks of di erent key or tempo. is is done to create a break, which allows space for something di erent from what the crowd just danced to. A er all this information is regarded, it is easy to conclude that silence is extremely important to our experience of music. at's it. at was all I had to share in this article. e things I have written down are some of the things I have learnt over the three years, I've been exploring music and sound. I really love creating music and playing around with sounds, and it does not seem like I will be dropping this interest any time soon. - 65 -","From Raaga to Bhaava Medha (15) e feeling of completely pushing away all the other things going on in my life and fully concentrating on something I love. A place where I am always wanting to learn something new. Something that is constantly challenging me. is is what music is to me. I started learning music when I was ve. When I rst started, it's not that I didn't enjoy it, I did, but I was more excited by the di erent colored plastic cups that were at my music teacher's house. It was only a few years a er we had moved to India, and I started to learn with Vasu uncle (some might remember him as the bald physics teacher who used to come to school in a yellow Reva, and play sport in a dhoti), did I really start to explore and experiment with music. I started to add my own variations. I started to listen to and try out fusion music. at's one of the many things I love about music. You can experiment with it and add your own personal touch to it. Doing this really made me explore music as a whole, and I started to really enjoy singing more. To be able to use certain techniques in complex tunes, gave me a newfound respect for many singers. ere was a brief stagnation in my exploration when the pandemic arrived \u2013 I owe it Bhaskar for bringing my otherwise music-less-boring-life to music-full-lively-self. He patiently and consistently participated and enabled exploring music again joyfully and playfully. I feel like everybody has that one activity that helps them relax, and go into their own world. Some people paint, some people play a sport, and so on. For me that activity is music. When I sing something just comes over me. I can't really pinpoint that feeling, but I feel calm and together, like how quiet time is supposed to make you feel. To me that's one of the best feelings in the world. To be able to do something you truly enjoy. Nobody is burdening you; you have no deadlines to meet, and even though you have a jam-packed schedule you make time for that one thing. I feel I am in a di erent universe all together, and even if I wanted to, I can't get a hold of other things in my life. And when I do have to stop either singing or listening to music, it's like reality just gave me a hard slap across my face But when I am immersed in my music, the nasty slap coming doesn't cross my mind once. Even though music is just a hobby right now, I like to give it as much attention as I can, because I feel like that is one thing, I am actually good at. When I sing, I don't judge myself (unless I record myself and listen to the recording) and because of that I feel more con dent. I feel music is a great way to express feelings, and when you make music \u2013 especially western music, you can take the lyrics and apply it to something you are or have gone through. Music really personalizes everything for you, to the extent you want it to. A er writing all this down, I have realized that my relationship with music is not at all as simple as I thought it was. ere are so many emotions intertwined and tangled. All I can say for sure is that the outcome of these entangled feelings is my love for music and I wish to keep exploring it. - 66 -","Nandana (17) - 67 -","- 68 -","Rediscovering my Passion for Art Kabeer (17) Recently I rediscovered my passion for art and it has made me view art di erently than before. When the art classes began in Shibumi, I was apprehensive, because I did not believe that I could sketch an object accurately. Viji aunty taught me how to observe an object, and explained how sometimes the mind imagines how something is supposed to look and tries to create it that rather than looking at the object present right in front of your eyes, I found this interesting, as it shows how the mind overthinks, and I was able to relate this to other parts of my life. I also learnt how important it is to observe, and not rush into it. e classes progressed and we moved from sketching objects to sketching people and I slowly improved and developed a style. I felt freer while drawing and I o en surprised myself with my ability. It felt, as if, a thousand new doors had opened up to me. It did not mean that suddenly, I was able to sketch well, but what it meant was that I no longer felt apprehensive. Living in an Illusion Ajay Standing by the ghat as the pyre burnt Watching the ames engulf the lifeless Reducing it to a heap of ash and dust Fleeting thought Interrupts the stillness Probing the permanence of impermanence Engul ng the void in darkness Leaving little to light. Tracing back, I wonder why Living in darkness seems so right Seeking light becomes the purpose of life Yearning for it why squander life Knowing well, all there is; is only light Dispelling darkness without fright Being still is the way to light. - 69 -","- 70 -","- 71 -","E ortlessly Artful Bhavya (14) My own way, My own style, Whenever I paint, On my face there's a smile. Free from instructions, Using imagination, A di erent world, Free from frustration. Few interruptions, Totally relaxed, Listening to music, And munching on snacks. Happy and satis ed, When I'm done, I look at it, And want to make another one. Completely focused, No need to think, With my art, I'm perfectly in sync. - 72 -","School Food and I Nikhil (16) I mentally prepare myself for the war that I wage daily. As I walk towards the kitchen where the clamouring centipede of humans that make up the lunch line, I have con icting thoughts on whether or not to join this centipede even as my feet automatically continue forward. e side of my mind that doesn't want to join (the bigger and more whiny side - let's call it #1) kick starts the following dialogue with a mind-boggling question: why should we eat lunch At this the side that is practical and wishes to provide the body with its basic necessities (Now called #2) says in a matter-of-fact tone, it will shut the growling stomach whose noise could be heard in a 5 mile radius . #1 snorts and replies, the stomach stops growling simply because it's too busy trying not to ing its new contents back out the way it came. Besides that it tortures our poor tastebuds senseless each time we take a bite . Well , says #2 with a mental sneer, it's either this or getting a long, boring lecture on not placing so much importance on our likes and dislikes and how important it is to eat your food blah blah blah. A lecture that we've heard all too o en. ey stop, having realised it was pointless to continue bickering as I was already dejectedly looking at my fast- lling plate. e food loves me, and it has every reason to do so. A er all, I'm not one of my fellow classmates or teachers who chomp and crunch on it with relish. Instead, I act as a sort of hero for it, always discreetly inging it into a temporary safe spot (any place at all really, so long as it's safe from the prying eyes of teachers and students). ankfully the evidence of this deed soon disappears in the mouths of every single y that is there in the surrounding area. ere are drawbacks for me however in providing this feast for the ies. e ies sometimes take suicidal dives at my plate when I am late in providing them their daily salad, palya and rice. Or they simply buzz around my face in impatience, both of which are highly annoying. During the brief interaction between the food and me (though it feels like forever to me), there are three distinct stages. e rst is where I simply ignore the food and instead talk to friends. e second stage is where my friends have nished their food and so have le me morosely staring at my plate which has surprisingly managed to remain the same in quantity and has somehow become even worse in quality. e nal stage has already been alluded to, the one in which I discreetly throw away my food which seems to magically disappear shortly a erwards. I turn up late for classes since the food that I ate detained me at the eating area. And so I get a lecture for coming late for something like the millionth time, or, to be more accurate the number of times I've had a class a er lunch. - 73 -","- 74 -","- 75 -","When in Doubt, go to the Kitchen Anoushka (14) I have been cooking and baking a lot in the past 2 years. It is something that I have enjoyed doing thoroughly. I can cook or bake for a long time without getting distracted. I feel like when you really enjoy doing something, you do it with your full attention and give your 100%. ough it does get tiring a er a point. It is more of a satisfying and happy feeling. is is one of the few things, doing which alone, makes me feel carefree and independent. When people are around, they tend to give you many instructions. is doesn't happen all the time but when it happens, it gets me thinking as to why they would do that when I already have a recipe. Perhaps it is because of their experience. I feel joyously content when the dish comes out the way I expect it to and when people tell me that it has turned out well. I don't feel that bad when I am told that the dish is not up to the mark or things like 'we didn't enjoy it', 'the salt is too less' etc. I know there's room for improvement no matter what. A lot of the time I resist trying new things only because there's a fear that something will go wrong in the process and because of that it'll get wasted. A recent incident was when I made co ee cake. It was slightly burnt and had an extremely bitter taste. We were not able to eat it and that made me feel unhappy. at was a learning experience. I know where I went wrong. Cooking and baking remain the two most fun things to do for me. A recipe I would like to share with all of you: Vanilla chocolate chip cookies: \u00bd cup our 1\/8 tsp baking soda 1 pinch salt 4-5 tbsp sugar \u00bc cup butter \u00bc tsp vanilla extract \u00bc cup Chocolate chips 1 to 2 spoons milk Instructions 1. Sieve the our and mix it well with the baking soda and salt in a bowl. 2. To another bowl, add so ened butter. Mix it well. 3. Add sugar. 4. Add the vanilla extract and mix thoroughly. 5. Now add the our to the butter mixture and mix again. 6. Add the Choco chips and mix it up. 7. Pre-heat the oven to 180 degrees Celsius for 15 minutes. 8. Use the dough to make circular shapes and place it on the tray. 9. Bake them for 15-20 minutes. ( e time can vary. You can keep it for a longer or shorter time period depending on how the cookies look to you.) 10. Take them out and check if they are baked using a toothpick. 11. If it's done then eat it and enjoy - 76 -","e Road Less Traveled In conversation with Venki \u0caa\u0c95\u0cc3 : \u0cae \u0c82 \u0c8e\u0cb2 \u0ca1 \u0ca4\u0cc1\u0c82 \u0c87 \u0ca8 \u0c82 \u0c85\u0ca3: \u0ca6\u0cc1... \u0caa\u0c95\u0cc3 : \u0c85\u0c82 \u0c8f \u0c87\u0cb7 \u0c85\u0ca6\u0cb0 \u0cac \u0c82 \u0c85\u0ca3: \u0ca8\u0c82 \u0cd6 \u0c82 \u0c85\u0c82 \u0c87\u0cb7... \u0c86 \u0cd5 \u0c94 \u0cd5\u0cb7 , \u0c9f\u0cc2 \u0c97 \u0cc2\u0cd5\u0c97 \u0cb2 \u0ca4\u0cc1\u0c82 \u0c87\u0cb7. \u0ca1 \u0cc2\u0cd5\u0ca6\u0cc1. \u0caa\u0c95\u0cc3 : \u0cd6 \u0c82 \u0c82 \u0c85\u0ca3: \u0cd6 \u0c82 \u0ca4\u0cc1\u0c82 quiet \u0c86 \u0cb0\u0cc1 . disturbance \u0c87\u0cb0\u0cb2. \u0c86 \u0cae drive \u0caa\u0c95\u0cc3 : \u0cae\u0cc1\u0c82 \u0c87\u0c82 \u0ca8\u0cc1 \u0c87 \u0ca8 \u0c82 \u0c85\u0ca3: \u0ca6\u0cc1... \u0cae\u0cc1\u0c82 \u0c87\u0c82 \u0ca8\u0cc1 Night \u0c82 \u0c87\u0cb7. \u0caa\u0c95\u0cc3 : \u0cd5 \u0cd5 drive \u0ca1 \u0c87 \u0ca8 \u0c85\u0ca5 \u0cb8\u0cc1 \u0ca1\u0c95\u0cc2 \u0c87 \u0ca8 \u0c82 \u0c85\u0ca3: \u0cb8\u0cc1 \u0ca1\u0c95\u0cc2 \u0c87\u0cb7... \u0cd5 \u0ca1\u0c95\u0cc2 \u0c87\u0cb7. \u0caa\u0c95\u0cc3 : \u0cae \u0c87\u0c82 \u0cc2\u0cb0\u0c97 \u0cc2\u0cd5\u0c97\u0c95\u0cc2 \u0c87 \u0ca8 \u0c82 \u0c85\u0ca3: \u0ca6\u0cc1... \u0caa\u0c95\u0cc3 : \u0cc2\u0cd5 \u0cd5 \u0c82 \u0c85\u0ca3: \u0c87\u0c82 \u0cc2\u0cb0\u0c97 \u0c85\u0c82 ... \u0c86\u0c82\u0ca7, \u0ca4 \u0cb3\u0cc1 \u0ca1\u0cc1 \u0c86 \u0ca5\u0cb0 \u0c8e\u0cb2 \u0cc2\u0cd5 . \u0caa\u0c95\u0cc3 : \u0c86 \u0c88 \u0cd5\u0cb6 \u0cc2\u0cb0\u0c97 \u0c82 \u0c85\u0ca3: \u0cd5\u0cb6 \u0cc2\u0cb0\u0c97 \u0cc2\u0cd5\u0c97 chance \u0c95 \u0cc2\u0cd5\u0c97 \u0c87\u0cb7. \u0caa\u0c95\u0cc3 : \u0cb5 \u0ca5\u0cb0 \u0c97 \u0c87\u0cb7 \u0c82 \u0c85\u0ca3: \u0ca8\u0c82 \u0cd5\u0cb0 \u0cc2\u0cd5 \u0cd5\u0c95\u0cc1 \u0c85\u0c82\u0ca4 \u0c87\u0cb7... \u0caa\u0c95\u0cc3 : \u0c9a \u0c87\u0cb0\u0cc1 ... \u0cd5 \u0c87\u0cb0\u0cc1 .. \u0cd5 \u0cd5 \u0cc2\u0c82 \u0cc2\u0cd5\u0c97 \u0c87 \u0ca8 \u0c82 \u0c85\u0ca3: \u0ca6\u0cc1... \u0caa\u0c95\u0cc3 : \u0c95 \u0cc2\u0cd5 \u0cd5 \u0c82 \u0c85\u0ca3: \u0cc2\u0cd5 \u0cd5 . - 77 -","e Space we Surrender to Cars Image credit: Karl Jilg Yashwanth (18) How and why my relationship with cars took a complete U-turn I was obsessed with cars as a kid. I had a collection of beautiful little model cars that I absolutely adored, one of my and my brother's favourite pastimes used to be imagining and playing out hour-long car races full of drama; 1 on 1 drag races through a city street, a multi track race with magic powers and boost or a cross country free for all with sabotage and dramatic crashes. My cars always won of course, being an older brother had its privileges. I had liked cars so much that I learned the name of every model just by the shape of their headlights; my parents would point to a random car on the road and ve year old me would instantly spit out its name. Always impressed them. I was so amazed at the size and power of one of my relative's cars that he was referred to by me as 'Scorpio thatha' from then on (still sticks to this day). I dreamt of owning a sports car, I loved the car movies, my favourite book was about cars. But now that I'm older, my feelings on cars can only be summed up as repulsion. So what changed What could have happened that changed my view on cars so drastically And no it was not the time I crashed my parent's car by releasing the handbrake as a kid. Take a minute to think about it, what do you hate most about our city e infamous Bangalore tra c might be one of the rst things that come to mind. Imagine having to spend an hour of your time stuck alone in tra c, crawling through every metre of space while a cacophony of other cars swarm around you, just to go those 10 kilometres to work. Doesn't sound very great. And then you have to do that twice every day. e noise is a problem of its own; everyone knows cities have a constant ruckus going on, no peace and quiet to be had on our balconies. Pollution is - 78 -","Image credit: Deccan Heraldanother common problem; CO2, global warming, particulate matter, air quality indexes getting worse and worse every year, that trademark city haze that lingers around above our buildings\u2026 We all hate it. By now you've probably guessed where I'm going with this. Cars and car centric city design single handedly cause all of these problems. But of course, you say, we all know this already. It's just that you can't help it you know, it's all part of having so many people in such a small area. I mean how else will people go where they need to go Using cars obviously Well no. Who ever thought that xing a generator with a sofa set and putting it on wheels was a good way to move around through a dense, crowded city ey are simply the most ine cient form of transport. In addition to all their fuel burning and gas emitting and noise making, cars take space. ey take lots and lots of limited city space and not just for the frame that holds that two ton hunk of metal; ey need miles and miles of tarred anti-people roads to move on (the more the better some people think). And most of the time they're only carrying one or two people in the rst place In a city with 13 million people, you simply cannot use cars as the main form of transport. Cars take space Believe it or not all these people can t into a single metro I've always had an inkling that something wasn't right with city life, something that wasn't as it should be. I always felt like I was trapped at home, nothing to do, nowhere to go, always back to either studying or games. My parents o en asked me to spend some time outside, but the area outside my apartment simply wasn't\u2026 pleasant and didn't have much to o er me. Whenever I went out in the city it was only for the occasional restaurant or movie or sleepover plan made carefully with my friends, and it felt like I had absolutely zero connection to my immediate surroundings. Now it feels like a fog has li ed, and I'm beginning to understand why I felt all these things; I don't have the freedom to go where I want, how weird is it that our own city space isn't accessible to us My girlfriend's apartment is within cycling distance, but with that sea of angry cars in the way it feels unreachable on my own. My friends and I can't simply meet up to study in a cafe or play games or just casually hang out in some interesting place, I can't even explore my area to A road converted to a pedestrian area in Vienna. An obvious space for people, vs an obvious space meant for cars. Which version of this place would you want to live in - 79 -","know what it has to o er. Nowadays, especially with the rise of apartment complexes, we all live on boring little 'islands' where we can live and play, with the outside reserved for roads and cars only. Children can't be out there when death machines are zooming around. Nobody wants to be in that lifeless, tarred place clearly meant for those loud unpleasant creatures, nobody can even comprehend wanting to spend time there. Because the outside isn't meant for us anymore, it's been given away to cars. It doesn't have to be this way. Our cities can be a good outdoor space for people and transport people more e ciently at the same time, even here in India. Now when I go out into the city and look around, I can't help but notice all the space eaten up by cars, with barely anything le for anything else, and wonder how much better city life could be if we just moved away from the sel sh convenience of car culture and focused on our living space instead. - 80 -","A Ride is my Guide Chetan Two wheels stir my soul Whenever I hear the bikes growl I know it s time to take it out on a long stroll e solitude it brings With gratitude my heart sings Miles don't matter with unchained wings A silly smile With every mile Been a while Time to push the speed dial Objects in the rear view mirror are closer than they appear A ride is all it takes to make them disappear Winding roads unwind the mind Navigating roads of all kind Leaving the past behind Wheels and thoughts realigned A ride is my guide Helps me to step aside And take it all in my stride Knowing, I tried\u2026 - 81 -","Numbers, Mathematics and Self\u2026 Kumaran A long time ago, during one of our diverse conversations, a friend wondered if a number is anything more than the relationships it has with other numbers. e question was le unanswered at that time, but was never forgotten. at theme came up time and again in many of our MathLab discussions over years\u2026 e simplest of the numbers \u2013 called the Natural numbers (1, 2, 3, \u2026) \u2013 are known to mankind from ancient times. ere are numerous artifacts that con rm this: From the notched Ishango Bone (dated more than 20,000 years old), to the cave paintings that depicts the ratio of hunters to a Woolly Mammoth, to the Mesopotamian clay tablets with trade details, to the Chinese Abacus for arithmetic, etc. In the modern times, the numbers are so fundamental that they are taken for granted. But, really, do we know the numbers Try reading the statements below, and see if you can answer without the Oh, it is a number or It is so. \u2022 Numbers like 1, 2, 3, etc., are obvious Can you think of 3, without thinking 3-of-something \u2022 You know that 3+5=8, and 3-8=-5. What is -5 of anything What is this -5 \u2022 I bet it is the rst time in your life you saw this number: 809,173,657,534,201,629,761,083,625. You are most likely to think that this number exists. What makes you to think so \u2022 You know that 24=8 and -2-4=8. Why is the multiplication of two negative numbers a positive one \u2022 What is the largest number you can imagine (generally referred to as \u221e). Do you think it exists \u2022 You know is precisely de ned as the ratio of the circumference of a circle to its diameter. e precise value of is not computable and hence cannot be known. So, is a number or a concept \u2022 e imaginary number starts with a conditional: Assume that \u221a-1 exists, and let it be i\\\". As numbers, they are far better than even real numbers. Is i a number or just an assumption Depending on how you answer the above questions, you may fall into any of these (or ner) categories: (1) numbers- are-ideas-and-exist-independent-of-us (Platonistic view), (2) numbers-are-result-of-a-logical-framework (Logicistic view) or (3) numbers-are-just-useful- ction-and-exist-only-in-us (Fictionalistic view). e point of this article is not to discuss which of the view is correct \u2013 but to open up the space to wonder about the nature of numbers itself. What we think of real and hard numbers are neither that real or hard To me, it appears that the simple numbers and their operations could have started with real human (phenomenological) experiences \u2013 such as the counting and addition\/subtraction for cavemen to keep track of the members of the tribe. But once agriculture and trading started there would be need for negative numbers and operations on them. e urban civilizations would have needed geometric and astronomical calculations, and the modern scientists needed highly sophisticated imaginary number systems for complex scienti c models. us, the number systems must have grown in sophistication with time and with the need. But still, irrespective of the fact that some of the newly created numbers either defy intuition, are unknown or perhaps even non-existent, they all seem to t together nicely with each other like a jig-saw puzzle, and they all obey same rules of arithmetic that we know and care about Why It de es logic to think that these new types of numbers \u2013 negative, irrationals, or imaginary \u2013 were proposed and they tted perfectly in to existing scheme of numbers, and conformed to arithmetic operations as well. If true, it must have been a series of happy coincidences But mathematics does not work that way\u2026 e numbers cannot be created with the hope that they conform to existing operations. e more I - 82 -","think, the more the opposite makes sense \u2013 perhaps it is the arithmetic operations were expanded that created new numbers to conform to them. Let's explore this more\u2026Take the number line with only Natural numbers (0, 1, 2\u2026), as shown below, with addition (right arrows) and subtraction (le arrows). ese operations are intuitive and well de ned, but there is a di erence: Additions (moving right) are unrestricted, but the subtractions are restricted (that the rst number needs to be greater-than-or-equal-to the second). So, while one knows what 5-3 and 2-2 are, one does not know what 1-2 is; that is because nothing exists to the le of o in the number line If one wants to keep the idea of subtraction (the le arrows) unrestricted and consistent, then one must add new type of numbers to the le of 0, so that the le arrows can land on them So, we add -1 to the le of 0, so 1-2 can land on it; similarly, every negative number -1, -2, -3, \u2026 may be de ned (1-3=-2, 1-4=-3, etc.). e key here is to keep the meaning of subtraction the same and consistent, but adding more numbers to obey it Why do we know that 809,173,657,534,201,629,761,083,625 exists Because, the addition operation can be applied successively and inde nitely (such as, 1+1=2, 2+1=3, etc.), it guarantees that any\/all numbers will be generated. e same addition operation ensures that there cannot be a largest number; if some number be designated as the largest number, it can be made even larger by adding 1 So, \u221e can exist only as a concept. Why does multiplying two negative numbers to yield a positive number If one must keep the meaning of addition and multiplication consistent across positive and negative numbers, then it can be proven that the multiplication of two negative numbers must yield a positive value. It is a requirement for consistency If one must expand the applicability of square-root operation and keep its meaning consistent, then one needs to assume that \u221a-1, creating a new set of numbers. e key point I am making is this: the numbers and operations might have co-evolved in primeval times, but as mathematics grew it was the operations that were in the driving seat, creating new numbers to accommodate the need for the operations to be more general. Now, let's ask: What is the meaning of addition operations, say 1+2=3 at 3 is related to 1 through addition relationship (+2). But 3 is also related to every one of the in nite numbers in the number line, such as, 1+2, -1+4, -2+5, -3+6, etc. Now, what is 6 in -3+6 at is also an in nite number of relationships such as, 1+5, 2+4, 3+3, etc., ad in nitum. Such in nitely many relationships for 3 exist, not just through addition, but also through subtraction, multiplication, division, etc. It is like a precise net, in which each node is a number, and each and every node is mathematically related to each and every other node, in in nitely many ways. Even the orderly arrangement of numbers on a number line, is not an inherent property of numbers themselves, but the enforcement of strict mathematical relationships between them. ese are not mere speculations: Much later, I leant about Peano Axioms (foundations for Number eory, as the Euclidian axioms are for Geometry), which starts with few numbers, and specify all numbers implicitly using mathematical relationships only. It is a Copernican inversion or sorts for me\u2026 at it is the relationships that generate every aspect of each and every number \u2013 its position, its value and even its existence. e rigid and precise order of numbers is also the result of such relationships \u2013 just like the beautiful patterns generated by the orderly re ections of the coloured trinkets in a kaleidoscope. I see now the truth of the observation that Kabir made a long time ago. Within me, it revealed itself as an insight that is broader than numbers and mathematics: at one's sense of Self is nothing but the totality of the relationships that one has. at insight is as valid as mathematics itself. - 83 -","Across the Layer of Glass Sridhar is material possibly found in volcanic deposits and later manufactured, has been around for about 5000 years. e ease of its moulding, has helped glass acquire a variety of shapes and sizes for various applications over its long history. Each time, it manages to create two spaces: one inside and the other outside, both being in perfect view of each other. Sometimes it is a window pane letting light in but keeping the cold out, or simply a drinking container holding a uid in and its perceived avor outside. In our school lab, glass has a similar role. Most commonly, the visible magni cation of an atomic electronic event between many individuals of a pair or more of molecules. Since the estimation that a 1 gram of hydrogen gas has roughly half a trillion trillion atoms, it is now possible to count what we see through the glass walls of the test tube. While it will be di cult to have just that one atom or that one set of atoms to react, once we divide the contents of the glass container by a trillion trillions, we have just that, a few molecules on one side and an observer on the other. Reactions involve colour changes, heating, cooling, emanation of gases or just none at all; events that even a 12-year old can evaluate a er setting aside the football. Once such reactions are packaged in a lipid bilayer, we have a cell or a collection of cells, test tubes within test tubes. Simultaneously, the size of the cell is no more in the trillionths but in the millionths of a metre, and its sub- compartments in the billionth of a metre. Such units can be captured in the test-tube as a collection or under the microscope individually. is time the glass is in the form of a at slide with a thin coverslip sandwiching a few cells between them. e cell, endowed with DNA, progresses along its set path accommodating our manipulations from time to time across the separating piece of glass. e success of the event depends individuals on both sides of the glass namely the molecules themselves and the investigators. At times the nature of the glass can a ect the outcome of the test. e cleaner the glass, the better the results. Cleaning glass is o en the most dangerous part of the experiment as there is no event on the other side of the glass. is is the time glass has to be replaced due to breakages. De nitely not a Mazal Tov moment. Equally fascinating is the evolution outside the test-tube or the microscope slide. e young investigator looking for very broad changes in electron transfers, over time is willing to explore more subtle events with complex explanations, having relegated the more visual processes to the pages of the previous years' note books. is is possibly one of Hartley and Pilkington's greatest contribution, the real value of BoroSil. - 84 -","Preparing for Exam Aditya (18) I started preparing for Economics and English exams for my IGCSE last May 23rd. I was very happy that at last I got to start. I was less keen on English, but still very keen. I started chapter II Economics from the beginning since I had forgotten many things which I had already read in May 2020. Some things I had already done with my mom in the beginning of 2020.I took 3 weeks to nish chapter II and revised it using question papers where I answered questions only from chapter II. My understanding of everything was very strong till PED and PES in chapter II because I did them with my mom, but the rest of my understanding was sketchy since I did them alone, and didn't revise them with my mom. Once I started IIIrd chapter in Economics I decided to nish it in 3 weeks, but took 2.5 months to nish it. Sharad bhaiyya kept asking 'Adi have you nished the IIIrd chapter '.Each time he asked me this I said 'no'. I kept getting worried about not nishing chapter III quickly and not doing the next chapters. I had to nish everything quickly because paper II economics exam was on 25 Oct and I was slow in preparation. When I used to do my economics class with Sharad bhaiya the zoom call on the computer used to keep breaking because of bad internet in my room, and nally we started having normal calls on my phone. I started coming to school every wednesday once I started doing chapter IV with my mom since I had only 1.5 months for the exam and did chapter V with her during my study holidays. I started doing economics papers on time from 2nd to 24th except from 7th to 13th Oct due to the listening exam preparation in English. I was unable to answer all 90 questions in mock paper 2 Economics because I didn't use the trick my mom had taught me of using arrows to write answers quickly and I nally managed to nish a paper on time. I used to discuss those papers with Sharad bhaiyya later and with my mom. Once I started MCQ preparation which I had on Nov 15 I found that much easier, since there was no writing involved. I discussed those things with Sharad bhaiyya a er I completed those papers, and I discussed them with my parents. - 85 -","White Sonali People jostle together amid nervous chatter. ey are all wearing the same style of shirts and pants, all in the same colour. Overheard is, God, I m not at all ready , I hope it s easy , at s it, a er today I m done for . ere are giggles as well as so ly heard besto s, you re fantastic at theory, don t lie , you always say this but\u2026 , no problem for you, ya, now that you re so tall , etc. Some are sipping from water bottles, others are adjusting shirt buttons and skirt hooks, zipping up bags. A few stretch and some are even skipping. A gong sounds. Immediately a hushed, silent atmosphere prevails. All at once the people change their mien. eir eyes are downcast, their shoulders rounded, their faces serious, expressionless. ey stand in a straight line, unmoving, facing the audience. From the other side of the stage, enter - perhaps three - people. ey are also in uniform - the only di erence is in the colour of their clothes. ey take their seats on three chairs placed along one of the walls of the big, mostly bare room. ey too stare at the ground, silent and expressionless. A long pause. On a (silent) cue, those sitting (the Sitting Ones) look up to the heavens, raise their hands, fold their hands, bow their heads and cry: May our preparations be equal to the task May the truly deserving rise to the top One of the Sitting Ones stands up and says, Paper 1: Practical, part 1 e standing ones ex their hands, swivel their necks, rotate their shoulders, take deep breaths. One takes a step forward into the centre of the room. She stands waiting, eyes closed. ose sitting walk up towards her; they go very close and take their positions, peering at her, while each holds a digital clock in their hands. Now It takes a few moments for the audience to understand that something is happening. e girl in the centre still stands perfectly still, arms at her side, feet parallel. What is moving are her eyelids. She is blinking them very rapidly. Meanwhile the examiners are keeping alternately close watch on her blinking and their stopwatches. Stop e girl slumps brie y. She looks up somewhat anxiously at the examiners but they give nothing away. She takes her place in the line. One by one all take the test. e examiners confer. At the end, they stand up and announce the winner. Sheetaladevi, congratulations You have passed the examination with honours Your capacity for blinking fast is astonishing. You have a bright future ahead of you Everyone claps and hoots for a brief second before reverting to deadly solemnity. Sitting One 2 stands up to announce: Paper 2: Practical, part 1 - 86 -","ose standing step forward and hitch up their trousers, as someone goes around measuring the distance between each persons ankles and the tops of their trousers. e examiners confer. At the end, they stand up and announce the winner. Jitaditya, congratulations for your outstanding win By dint of will and e ort, you, the tallest candidate, have overcome the odds to come out rst in the exam of recording the most distance between your socks and your waistband Congratulations We applaud your perseverance Everyone claps and hoots for a brief second before reverting to deadly solemnity. Sitting One 3 stands up to announce: Paper 3: eory All standing are poised to write. Sitting One 3 asks, What colour is white One puzzled person asks, Excuse me, but haven t you already told\u2026 Sitting Person 3: Disquali ed. No asking questions. Another puzzled person asks: Excuse me, but do you have in mind the word for white in a speci c language\u2026. Sitting Person 3: Disquali ed. See above. Puzzled person 3 can be heard saying to herself: What colour is white What colour is white Interesting\u2026. Gong sounds. SP 3 says, Time Up. Examiners confer. At the end, they stand up and say, is is an extraordinarily good batch of students - even though some of you wasted precious time asking for clari cations, most of you instantly got the correct answer which is, of course, white . Congratulations to this Batch of 2022 Much relief, hugs, congratulations, jubilation in the air. Sitting Ones interrupt to say: Sorry to interrupt but we have some important announcements to make. Sheetala Devi, you have won a seat in the prestigious College of Disaster Management because of your extraordinary eye-blinking speed. Next stop, a Minister in the Union Cabinet, we are sure Jitaditya, you have been admitted to the no less prestigious Academy of Climate Science to specialise in canopy research. Congratulations We will keep an eye out for you in the Ministry of Environment and Forests in the near future Finally, Congratulations for those who passed the eory paper with ying colours Having crossed this gateway, you may now pursue studies in the natural sciences, in languages, in communication or indeed in creative writing, as you wish For all those who were unable to answer the theory paper, worry not. You may apply for a re-exam in the next round. Two dejected faces in a sea of celebration. Finally, the stage clears as all leave. All No. One person sits on stage, puzzling over the question of How does white come to be white What is it Is the absence of all colour or\u2026. - 87 -","Completing Circles and Starting Again Sidh (19) Sorry, venky uncle, aidh nimisha late aayitu, barata idini I sling my heavy bag over my shoulder, and fumble my way outside the house. Oh, it's sport today I quickly run back inside and pick up my bag of shoes. Restlessly standing in the li I wonder if I've forgotten anything else. It's six een in the morning. All my cousins are still asleep; they don't need to get up for another hour. At the bus stop I hug my mother and ask her as agreeably as possible, Can we stop for a cream-bun on our way back Beta, run. e van is waiting for you guys. You'll get late. Remember shaam tak pani khatam kar dena. And give tanu didi the books, ok. ...and also no cream-bun today. Go, bye. she smiles. Knowing I have no time to extend my opposing arguments, we ll inside the van. Sidh, nodu, door sariyagi close aagilla. One-sathi tiriga madu And so our morning procession to school starts again; like every other day, with spotless clothes and bursting energy. \u2014 Our legs are criss-crossed, our backs stand straight 'as arrows', our hands gently rest- uhhhh not exactly. Our bustling legs unravel their crosses, our backs slide into strung bows instead and our hands are busy twiddling with fallen twigs on the cold red-oxide oor. Timely prompts send around the room waves of attention, but like the ebb and ow of the tide these waves sink back down too. Glances at watches; at each other; and then at the teachers soon fruition into those words we seem desperate to hear. Let's go. sounds the angelic whisper. In an unhesitating instant, the quiet circles di use into abstract elements, some when looked at carefully suggest a transition into newer dimensions as well. Loud voices, unyielding hugs, someone has cut their hair, it's someone's birthday, did you watch yesterday's match , who gets the eld today , please pull me up na; this conversenal forum is endless. But soon, either driven by fears of reduced sport time or driven by our friends' fears of reduced sport time, we empty out into the eld. Ehhhh sharad bhaiya, wear your shoes quickly no, you're never late for Hindi class shouts an active enthusiast from the eld. Fast forward forty ve minutes, most of which would be spent retrieving the notorious 'lost ball' (if cricket was chosen by the enfranchised), our sweaty bodies dri toward the kitchen. I'm rst for bath sounds an alert entrant. ese calls are echoed by others until the whole group is satisfactorily queued into a numbered line, or until the length of the line renders the remaining players' position futile, due to the imposed time limit. - 88 -","e loquacious forum resumes, this time equipped with food and drink. Where is roohi aunty's cake asks one. at's for lunch, da remarks another. Do you want to exchange community-work places enquires someone. No, you cannot do things like that, intervenes a student who has already been through this trade. Roopa aunty has said she adds later, seeing that her friend doesn't seem all that convinced. More o en than not, these popping kernels of conversation trespass into the next session of activity. e introduction of a ringing bell to curb this encroachment, serves more as chiming amusement, rather than a sound invoking vigil. It's way into community work, when the bath queues nally end, the snack buckets are withdrawn into the kitchen and the Sunday communion surrenders. \u2014 It is assembly time now. e nal washing of mop clothes, spreading out of mats and pinning up of song sheets gets underway. e conductor of the assembly switches between notes on the shruti-box in an attempt to satisfy the pitches of all members of the congress; from the highest pitches of littlest girls who are seated in the front rows and those pitches of Sridhar uncle and Kabir uncle that surface from the deepest pools of water. A couple of announcements need to be made: plates are not being washed dutifully; bags are not being arranged in a stately manner; the toilet ush has again refused to function causing much vexation to its working group. ese are met with automatic reassurances from the audience to do better, concluding matters with a dodgy briskness. A recitation of the notes transitions the morning forward. We sing and we chant and we listen and we repeat, and somehow, everytime, the production is brought to a silent end all too quickly. It is di cult to separate the start of the singing from its end; and that is if they exist at all. Because then we depart, sometimes formally in our prescribed groups, but otherwise just as a large body of water owing downstream, silently humming the tune of the most recent song being learnt, di using the melody across the campus. e next two hours lay demarcated ostensibly for some 'formal' education and while the name of the period seems to have changed more o en than required over the years, the scene that is presented does not change at all. Tables, on this stage, are quickly secured with bags or sometimes, when users are unsure about their seating choices, bottles are used instead. Viju aunty begins her session in one edge of the room. Like an o cial committee meeting, members take their seats with her at the head of the table. ere is a sense of earnest dignity in the air that separates this corner from the rest of the open room. Kabir uncle sits on his cane chair (which is yielded to the dogs a er working hours) sipping a stainless steel cup of tea, reading away on the laptop that rests on his lap. Roopa aunty and Ganesh uncle occupy other places within the same room, glancing away at textbooks with their students. e room seems to have mastered the balance between sharing a space and still working with independence. Viju What is this boy saying shouts a voice across the room. He's saying Shahjahan is a freedom ghter What are they learning in history, Viju Hahaha, stop it Kabir Who has told them that is is what happens when you sleep during Bharat-ek-Khoj another voice responds. e mood in the room oscillates between the various discussions that come alive now; some debate, with youthful earnestly, the best move to solve economic poverty, while others self-sympathetically note that lunch time is too far away; a group of statistics students measure their friends' heights to plot graphs, while a current event stirs up conversation around a di erent height, that of moral ground in science, and who in fact discovered the DNA. --- - 89 -","By noon, a chorus like that of chirping birds ies around the hall. It is the wristwatches that beep signalling the time of lunch. e students, who have not already ocked to the kitchen, now take leave and exit the scene. e room rests for about a minute, shedding its 'scholarly' air to transform into an atmosphere with hustle and bustle, reminiscent only of the city market at peak hours. e youngest are the rst to arrive. With plates in their hands they navigate the area to sit in the new pattern that has most recently been stipulated: half a dozen circles around the room. eir expressions and volume give away the prologue to the food we are about to eat. Only three Palash are allowed in one circle declares a student, seeing his friends eating together without him. e respondent gives a quick shrewd look around the room to see if any teachers are present. Supplied with the lack of enforcement agents, he replies, But I am not a Palash anymore. I have started the new SMP booklets, I am becoming a Tarang. Ehhh, that's not-\\\". But the conversation is interrupted by a pronouncement, Two vessels per person Senior school, two vessels per person. To a foreigner's ear this call may only yield bewilderment, but to a seasoned participant of the weekly lunch-cleaning rota, this is, more o en than not, a sign of a strategic ploy: one where work is being distributed among everyone today (and not only the small group scheduled to clean) on the pretext of the number of vessels being too many . is claim has to obviously be veri ed by a teacher, but a er the clearance is granted, that there are in fact too many vessels to wash, the stratagem is celebrated. e guileful happiness in the voice of the broadcaster is met with the disapproving stares of their opponents, subtly communicating that your time will come too . Lunch is eaten. And soon quiet-eating begins to enable the slow eaters to focus more on nishing their repast than in dwelling over which football player was acquired by which league in the past [editor's note: I was part of the quiet- eaters and correction, players are traded between football clubs, not leagues]. ---- It's about een minutes past-time, when we begin to arrive at our classes post-lunch. Some are herded, some dragged and others simply dri in - the inertia of bread has kicked in. e last hours of school pass by under the same climate that occupies every sarkari da ar, as they call it. Pens and pencils barely move across the pages and assignments are met with a stubborn air of non-compliance. Some blame their full meals, others the heat; but whatever the reason given, the outcome remains constant. But o en on these lazy a ernoons, piercing the weary air, arrive gallant rows of children. Sometimes they come with bowls of biscuits, trays of cake, glasses of juice or sometimes with notepads and pens, conducting the most important electoral exercise: the Surveys. ese edible interventions are welcomed as we remain seated to be served our rsts as it is called (because this exercise, much to our teacher's annoyance, will repeat itself again a er the bandwagon has completed one rotation of the school grounds; seconds and thirds will arrive in a neat, timely fashion). --- Without ever realising the day halts to an end and the nal services begin. Lock-up and quiet time, like twins, arrive together. Windows are bolted, doors are locked, vessels are stacked inside again, tables are folded, toilets are cleaned, shelves are rolled in and a gradual hush spreads over the campus. - 90 -","Another day closes and the vans depart, again with conversations from here and there. Who will get the prized window seats, someone has gotten chips for their evening snack, one student changes vans because she is going for a sleepover, nal goodbyes- oh but someone rushes back to pick up a forgotten jacket just as her friend gulps down water to ensure she takes home an empty water-bottle. --- irteen years and yet every day as though we do it all over again. Loving, losing, learning, discovering, crying, shouting, crawling, jumping and falling our way through it. ese last few months have been spent writing college applications and personal statements, and everytime I sit down to tell these institutions who I was and who I am, I nd myself stuck. How do I even begin to talk about what we have done, what we have seen and felt. e people we've grown to love; the buildings, communities and cities that have become our homes; the journeys we've taken together; how can something ever describe all that, I wonder Healthy Retirement In conversation with Nagamma \u0caa\u0c95\u0cc3 : \u0c97\u0cae , \u0cd5 \u0ca6\u0cb2\u0cc1 \u0cb8\u0cc2 \u0cd5 \u0c97 \u0cae \u0c88\u0c97 \u0cae \u0cb2\u0cb8\u0ca6 \u0c8f \u0ca6\u0cb0\u0cc2 \u0cb8 \u0c87 ? \u0c97\u0cae : \u0c8f\u0ca8\u0cc2 \u0cb8 \u0c87\u0cb2 . \u0ca6\u0cb2\u0cc1 \u0cb8\u0cc2 \u0ca4\u0cc1. \u0c88\u0c97 \u0cb8\u0cc2 \u0cc2\u0ca1\u0ca6\u0cc1 \u0c86 . \u0cae\u0c95\u0cb3\u0cc1 \u0ca6\u0cb0\u0cc2. \u0cb2\u0cb8 \u0c87 \u0c97 \u0c85 \u0cd5. \u0c97 \u0ca4\u0cc1\u0c82 \u0c87\u0cb7 \u0c86\u0caf\u0cc1. \u0cb2\u0cb8 \u0ca4\u0cc1\u0c82 \u0c87\u0cb7 \u0c86\u0caf\u0cc1. \u0ca8\u0ca8 \u0c86\u0caa \u0cd5\u0cb7 \u0c86\u0ca6 \u0cd5 \u0ca8\u0ca8 \u0cb2\u0cb8 \u0ca1 \u0c95\u0cb7 \u0c86\u0caf\u0cc1. \u0c86\u0ca6 \u0cd5 \u0cb2\u0cb8 \u0c86\u0ca6\u0cb0\u0cc2 \u0cd5 . \u0ca8\u0ca8 \u0cae\u0c95\u0cb3 \u0cc2 \u0caf \u0cb2\u0cb8 \u0ca1 \u0cc2\u0cb0\u0c97 \u0cb2\u0cb8 \u0c87\u0cb0 , \u0c85\u0ca1\u0cc1 \u0cae \u0caf \u0c8f \u0cd5 \u0cb2\u0cb8 \u0c87\u0ca6\u0cb0\u0cc1 \u0cd5 . \u0cb8\u0cc2 \u0ca8\u0ca8 \u0c8f \u0cd5 \u0cb2\u0cb8 \u0cc2\u0c9f\u0cb0\u0cc2 \u0c85\u0ca6\u0cc1 \u0cd5 . \u0ca8\u0cc1 \u0cb2\u0cb8 \u0ca1 \u0cd5\u0c95\u0cc1 \u0c85\u0c82\u0ca4 \u0c85\u0cb2 ... \u0ca8\u0ca8 \u0ca8\u0cc1 \u0c86 \u0c97 \u0cac \u0c8e \u0cb2\u0cb8 \u0ca1 \u0c95\u0cb7 \u0c86\u0c97\u0cc1 . \u0caa\u0cb0 \u0ca1\u0ca6\u0cc1 \u0ca8\u0cc1 \u0ca6\u0cc1 \u0cc2\u0cb3\u0cc1 . \u0cae \u0caf \u0c87 \u0cc2\u0cd5 \u0cd5 \u0cb0\u0cc1 \u0c86\u0c97\u0cc1 . \u0c85\u0ca6 \u0cb8\u0cc2 \u0cac \u0cd5 . \u0ca8\u0ca8 \u0c97\u0cad \u0cc2\u0cd5\u0cb6 \u0c86\u0caa \u0cd5\u0cb7 \u0c86\u0ca6 \u0cd5 \u0ca8\u0ca8 \u0cb2\u0cb8 \u0cc2\u0cd5 \u0ca4\u0cc1\u0c82 \u0c95\u0cb7 ... \u0ca8\u0cc1 \u0cae\u0cc1\u0c82 \u0cb8\u0cc2\u0cb2 \u0cb2\u0cb8 \u0ca1\u0cc1 . \u0c85 \u0c82\u0ca6 \u0c95 \u0cd5 \u0c85\u0c82\u0c95 \u0cae \u0c9c\u0cc1 \u0c86\u0c82 \u0ca8\u0ca8 \u0ca4\u0c82 \u0ca5\u0cb0 \u0cc2\u0cd5 \u0cc2\u0c82\u0ca1\u0cb0\u0cc1. \u0ca8\u0c82 \u0cb2\u0cb8 \u0cc2 , \u0c85\u0cb5\u0cb0 \u0cb8\u0c82\u0ca4 \u0cae\u0c97\u0cb3 \u0ca4\u0cb0\u0cb9 \u0cc2\u0cd5 \u0cc2\u0c82\u0ca1\u0cb0\u0cc1. \u0ca8\u0ca8 \u0c97\u0cb2\u0cc2, \u0cd5\u0ca8\u0cc1 \u0cb2\u0cb8 \u0ca1\u0cc1 \u0c87\u0cb0\u0cc1 \u0cd5\u0caf? \u0cb8\u0cb2 \u0ca1\u0cc1. \u0cb8\u0cb2 \u0cae\u0cb2\u0c97\u0cc1 \u0c85\u0c82\u0ca4 \u0cd5\u0cb3\u0cc1 . \u0ca8\u0ca8 \u0c95\u0cb7 \u0c86 \u0c97 \u0c85\u0caa \u0c87\u0cb0 \u0cd5 \u0ca4\u0cc1 \u0cac\u0cc1 \u0ca4\u0cc1 \u0cd5\u0cb3\u0cc1 \u0c87\u0ca6\u0cb0\u0cc1 \u0c85\u0c82\u0ca4 \u0ca4\u0cc1\u0c82 \u0cc2 \u0cd5 . \u0c95 \u0cd5 \u0c85\u0c82\u0c95 \u0c88 \u0c97\u0cb2\u0cc2 \u0c87 \u0c85\u0c82\u0ca4 \u0c85 \u0cb8\u0cc1 . \u0c85\u0cb5\u0cb0 \u0cb8\u0cb0 \u0cd5\u0cb3 \u0cd5\u0c95\u0cc1 \u0c85 \u0cb8\u0cc1 . \u0ca8\u0ca8 \u0cb8\u0c82\u0ca4 \u0c85\u0cae \u0c85\u0caa\u0ca8\u0cc2 \u0ca8\u0ca8 \u0c85\u0cb7\u0cc1 \u0cac\u0cc1 \u0cd5\u0cb3 \u0cb2 .. \u0c85\u0cb7\u0cc1 \u0cac\u0cc1 \u0cd5\u0cb3\u0cc1 \u0c87\u0ca6\u0cb0\u0cc1. \u0c88 \u0cb8\u0cc2\u0cb2 \u0c85\u0caa \u0cac\u0cb0 \u0cd5 \u0c87\u0cb2 . \u0c8e\u0cb7\u0cc1 \u0c87\u0cb7 \u0c87\u0ca4\u0cc1 \u0c87 \u0cae\u0c95\u0cb3 \u0cc2 \u0c87 \u0cc2\u0cd5 .. \u0cb8\u0cc2\u0cb2 \u0ca1\u0cc1 \u0cc2\u0cd5\u0ca6\u0cc1 \u0ca8\u0ca8 \u0ca4\u0cc1\u0c82 \u0c87\u0cb7 ... \u0cb2\u0cb8 \u0ca1\u0cc1 . \u0c95\u0ca8\u0ca1 \u0cb8\u0cb2 \u0caa\u0c95\u0cc3 : \u0cd5 \u0c95 \u0cb9 \u0cb0 \u0cc2\u0cd5 \u0cd5 ? \u0c97\u0cae : \u0cc2\u0cd5 \u0cd5 ... \u0c85\u0cae \u0c85\u0ca3 \u0cc2 \u0caf \u0cc2\u0cd5 \u0cc2\u0cd5 \u0cac\u0c82 . \u0c85\u0ca1\u0cc1 \u0cae \u0cd5 \u0c86 \u0ca4\u0cc1\u0c82 \u0cac\u0cb0\u0cc1 . \u0c8e \u0cb2\u0cb8 \u0ca1\u0cc1 . \u0c8e\u0cb2 \u0cb2\u0cb8\u0ca6 \u0ca8\u0cae \u0cb8\u0cae \u0cac\u0c82\u0ca6\u0cc1 \u0cb2\u0cb8 \u0ca1\u0cc1 . \u0c86 \u0c92 \u0cb9\u0cc1\u0ca1\u0cc1 . \u0c8f \u0cd5 \u0cb2\u0cb8 \u0c87 \u0cd5 \u0cc2\u0cd5 \u0ca1\u0cc1 . - 91 -","School, a Feeling Usha (17) 'Hey Will you come and nish sweeping this a er she's done ' Too scared to speak up and tell him that I actually worked in the library and not the lab, I nodded and took up the broom, probably leaving the place more dirty a er I'd nished, never having swept an inch of ground in my life before that day. is is one of my rst memories of school, where Ravi (an ex-student) assumed I worked with him in the lab and asked me (though to my nine-year old self it felt more like an order from the highest possible authority) to sweep it. So many years have passed since then- we've shi ed campus once, and more than half the people who were here back then have le , and in terms of Shibumi care I probably spend more time trying to nd ways of nishing it faster now (with occasional bursts of inspiration where I nd new things to clean), than help other groups (intentionally or unintentionally). However the feeling of 'school' still remains, though it hasn't remained the same. en came the lockdown, completely changing what school meant. I know there was a whole magazine about it last year, but it still amazes me how di erent the experience of physical school and online school are. For about eight months, I only saw the faces of ve other students and my subject teachers on zoom, with the occasional tness club or art club attempting to break the monotony. School became exams and practice papers, school was complaining to each other about work and headaches a er long hours of classes: I became enclosed in a little bubble, forgetting that there were almost y others doing a very similar thing as a part of the same school (though I didn't know what that meant, as I neither saw nor interacted with any of them), not to mention millions of schoolchildren all over the world. en the campus opened up, but only long enough for me to get a glimpse of what it could be, before shutting down again, leaving me staring at more screens and more practice papers. However, like all things, that too passed- my exams (which in my head had been the point where an old life would end and a new one would begin) were just another passing event, and I was still the same person a erwards who now had to make confusing, daunting decisions. By this time everyone had had enough, and when the teachers asked us if we would be interested to stay in school, I think all of us replied very de nitely in the a rmative. Living on campus with just a few other students again changed what school was for me. ere was obviously the excitement of swimming, playing sports, cooking together, going for forest walks and playing card games. However, there was also the chance to get to know each other better, and somehow living together completely changes things. It's di erent from a school excursion because sometimes on trips just the excitement of travelling and new experiences can carry you through, but here all of us were guring out how to live in the space together (both the adults and the children). And now, nally, school has opened up- hesitant at rst, everyone unsure about when we would have to go back to online school, with rules such as 'only non-contact sports during sports time', but then more con dently, and now the - 92 -","veranda in front of the kitchen is crowded at snacktime, and the whole school no longer ts comfortably in the dialogue space during assembly. A few weeks ago there was a snake that Ale almost stepped on near the sandpit, and the whole school was crowded together on the steps outside Sora, craning to watch as Das caught the dark brownish-green snake in a white dustbin labelled 'PLASTIC' and placed a glass slab on top. I knew then that the feeling of 'school' that I had been searching for, the spontaneity of random situations that managed to make us drop everything and go racing to reach the spot of excitement to look back at a beautifully patterned, rather confused looking Russell's viper through a piece of thick glass, was back in that moment. But what is this feeling And why is it gone, only to return in little ashes It seems like some amount of nostalgia, because there have been so many happy memories associated with school. It always felt really comfortable- a protected place that I t very well into. at feeling could have changed because so many students and teachers have moved in and out of Shibumi over the past two years. e people have changed, and so have my interactions in the space. Trying to navigate this new space and come to terms with the di erences, while holding onto whatever I can from before, has created some friction and a sense of not being fully connected to everything. Also, as I grow up, the way I am able to see the place has changed- it is no longer that perfect, magical institution lled with all-knowing adults. I start to realise that they are only a little bit less confused than I am, which is a bit disconcerting at rst, but it might just lead to something new and fresh, which is what I was looking for in the rst place, right - 93 -","- 94 -","Woh Ehsaas Jo aira Paawan (17) \u202b\ufe91\ufee7\u062f \ufb90\ufee3\u0631\u06d2 \ufb90\ufbfd \ufeb3\ufe8e\u0632\ufeb7\ufbfe\u06ba\u202c \u202b\u0622\ufeb3\ufee3\ufe8e\u06ba \ufb7c\ufbad\ufb58\ufe8e\ufba8\ufbaf \ufb90\ufbad\u0691\ufb90\ufbfe\u0648\u06ba \ufee3\ufbfe\u06ba\u202c Band kamre ki saazishein \u202b\u0627\u0648\u0631 \u062f\ufbfe\u0648\u0627\u0631\u0648\u06ba \ufb58\u0631 \ufedf\ufb91\ufbad\ufbaf \ufedf\u0648\u0638 \ufeb3\ufee7\ufb91\u0631\u202c Aasman chupaye khidkiyon mein Aur diwaaron par likhe luvz sunkar \u202b\ufbfe\u06c1 \u0627\ufea3\ufeb3\ufe8e\u0633 \ufba8\u0645 \ufe97\u0645 \u062f\u0648\ufee7\u0648 \ufe91\ufe8e\ufe97\ufee0\ufbfe\u06ba\u202c Ye ehhsaas hum tum dono baantlein \u202b\ufb90\ufba9\ufe8e\ufee7\ufbfe\ufe8e\u06ba \ufe97\u0648 \ufea7\ufe97\u0645 \ufba8\u0648\ufe97\ufbfd \ufee7\ufba9\ufbfe\u06ba \ufb90\ufe91\ufbad\ufbfd\u202c Kahaaniya to khatam hoti nahi kabhi \u202b\u0627\ufeb3\ufbfd \u0627\ufecb\ufe97\ufe91\ufe8e\u0631 \ufb58\u0631 \ufb7c\u0644 \u0631\ufba8\ufbaf \ufeb3\ufe91\ufbad\ufbfd\u202c Isi aitbaar par chal rahe sabhi \u202b\ufb90\ufbaf \ufe91\ufe8e\u0631\u0634 \ufee3\ufbfe\u06ba \ufb58\u0648\u0631\u0627 \ufb94\ufe8e\u0624\u06ba \ufe97\u0648 \ufba8\ufbaf \ufb90\ufbad\u0644 \u0631\ufba8\ufe8e\u202c Ke baarish mein pura gaon to hai khil raha \u202b\ufee3\ufb95\u0631 \ufe91\ufe8e\u062f\u0644 \ufba8\ufee3\ufe8e\u0631\u06d2 \ufb90\ufee3\u0631\u06d2 \ufee3\ufbfe\u06ba \ufba8\ufbaf \ufb58\ufbad\u0631 \ufe91\ufbad\ufbfd\u202c Magar baadal humare kamre mein hai phir bhi \u202b\ufe9f\u0648 \u0622\ufeb3\ufee3\ufe8e\u06ba \ufba8\ufee3\ufeb3\ufbaf \ufb7c\ufbad\u067e \ufee7\u06c1 \ufb58\ufe8e\ufbfe\ufe8e\u202c Jo aasman humse chup na paya \u202b\ufe9f\ufeee \u062f\ufbfe\ufeee\u0627\u0631\u0648\u06ba \ufee7\ufbaf \ufba8\ufee4\ufbff\ufb9f \ufee7\u06c1 \ufeb3\ufee8\ufe8e\ufbfe\ufe8e\u202c Jo diwaaron ne hume na sunaya Us kahaani ki khoj mein \u202b\u0627\u0633 \ufb90\ufba9\ufe8e\ufee7\ufbfd \ufb90\ufbfd \ufb90\ufbad\u0648\u062c \ufee3\ufbfe\u06ba\u202c Humne ye kamra khulvaya \u202b\ufba8\ufee3\ufee7\ufbaf \ufbfe\u06c1 \ufb90\ufee3\u0631\u0647 \ufb90\ufbad\ufee0\u0648\u0627\ufbfe\ufe8e\u202c Baadal phir se aasman mein taira \u202b\ufe91\ufe8e\u062f\u0644 \ufb58\ufbad\u0631\ufeb3\ufbaf \u0622\ufeb3\ufee3\ufe8e\u06ba \ufee3\ufbfe\u06ba \ufe97\ufbfe\u0631\u0627\u202c Hawa mein khidki ka parda lehra \u202b\ufba8\u0648\u0627 \ufee3\ufbfe\u06ba \ufb90\ufbad\u0691\ufb90\ufbfd \ufb90\ufe8e \ufb58\u0631\u062f\u0647 \ufedf\ufba9\u0631\u0627\u202c Baahar kahi kahaani mili to sahi \u202b\ufe91\ufe8e\ufba8\u0631 \ufb90\ufba9\ufbfd \ufb90\ufba9\ufe8e\ufee7\ufbfd \ufee3\ufee0\ufbfd \ufe97\u0648 \ufeb3\ufba9\ufbfd\u202c Magar woh ehsaas na thaira \u202b\ufee3\ufb95\u0631 \u0648\u0647 \u0627\ufea3\ufeb3\ufe8e\u0633 \ufee7\u06c1 \ufb68\ufbad\ufba9\u0631\u0627\u202c - 95 -","- 96 -","(un)ending Asba (19) I m walking down this muddy path, barefoot. My feet, sensitive to all the stones, grass, thorns, sand, everything it can feel. My toes and feet are curling and arching to adjust to what the ground is demanding. Like when I m tip-toeing on those patches of thorny grass. e suns out and I walk into areas where it s bright and hot and others where it s shaded with just some rays lighting the path. I can see my arms, a darker tan outside and a lighter inside due to the years spent with the sun. It s a moment of quiet to be walking, taking my time and it s something I know I choose by myself. Now I m running down this muddy path. I don t process my landscape. But, I know what it is, I see it every day. e buildings, the cows, the vessels drying in the grass, the wall murals, the trees, all these people I love, my books and my stationary, mop cloths, those orange-yellow berries, red oxide, granite and cement pathways, TT tables, children running around, salt and chilli powder, the only mirror in the toilet, Harpic, dusting cloths, jackets, coconuts, pick axes, cricket stumps, old shoes and torn socks, the blue overstu ed shelf, the timetables on the pale green notice boards changing slightly every now and then, banana plantations, 2 white vans, 1 yellow bus, jackfruit tree, sandals from Decathlon everywhere, brown tables and chairs, long white benches, clogged sinks, the yellow poles upstairs and the clock that is broken and replaced or repaired every couple of weeks. I can hear the clanging, the yelling, the complete silence at the end and the beginning of the day, the birds with all their di erent calls, the children screeching, singing, the occasional sounds of honking trucks, the chatter of the self-study space, laughter, whining, teasing, playing, the reminders of straightening our backs, attention, right action, the general discussion about ourselves, the world and which excursion we re going on this year. Dialogues, whispered secrets that were thrilling, leaves rustling, guitars, harmoniums and Shruti boxes and how quickly I can tell a stranger s voice from the ones I hear every day as they are so deeply absorbed into me. I can smell food, red rice, sambar, pasta, upittu, cow dung, dusty sand that lines the throat a er sport, rain, that musty smell of trees, the smell of old books and slight dampness in the library, cut wood, the toilets, smoke and sometimes no smell at all. My toes were stubbed regularly, my feet grew a layer of thickness, my clothes were sweaty and muddy and my pants were torn frequently. ere were hugs at the end of the end of the week as if wed never see each other again. All of this is now a blur because I was running so fast. Now I m standing and I look back at the muddy path. I look at myself; it seems to me that my skin, feet, heart and the whole body know what it all felt like the best. Mostly because I don t remember thinking at all. I think, now, I don t know what it means to end . I look at myself again, all the little tiny things I didn t notice before. My breath catches when I remember so much and when all the changes reveal themselves. I clench my st tightly holding on, I don t want to forget. And then open it, my bare palm facing me. It looks empty but all the lines and cracks are lling up the space. I m a reminder of where I ve been. - 97 -","- 98 -","- 99 -","- 100 -"]