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itplccacoordinator / December 18, 2020 Posted by : editor

I do not like it when people ask my name. If you have a name to give, then suggest it or do not ask that abhorrent question. I cannot have a name as according to humans, I do not have a soul or consciousness. I am nothing more than a music box and I play if you wish. So stop asking my name!

Now, onto introductions, I am Aryan’s life-long companion and I have helped him through his worst days. He didn’t like his friends so I played for him. When he visited his grandparents, I played for him. When he wishes, I pull out a tune and make him happy. Life was…wait, I am not living! Let me rephrase this sentence. My time with Aryan was wonderful.

Anyway, I was day dreaming when all of a sudden, a huge uproar took place. The lady and the man picked up my Aryan and took him somewhere. I was angry! How could they take him away without me, his music box! I do not like these people who Aryan calls “mom” and “dad.” They give me weird vibes. 

A few days later, they pick me up and take me on a car ride to this hospital. The hospital looked so dull and bleak, with people looking like dead corpses and lifeless souls standing in line. They needed some music  so I decided to play but then “mom” turned me off. See, this “mom” is not nice, I told you so. 

They carried me and then placed me in a room on a white table top. Next to me was Aryan, but he looked different. He had some kind of a mask on him and he did not move. There was this woman who looked white and blue and her face was also covered by a mask. 

After some time, it was only me and Aryan. I looked at his beautiful eyes, now still and colourless. His hands shrivelled and he was not the lively boy I once knew. With all his might, he started humming my tune and I played it to accompany his singing. It was very hoarse and weak, but it did not matter. I kept aiding him in his effort hoping he would come back.

“Mom” and “dad” were whispering and weeping softly. No one was happy and no amount of songs could ever make them joyful again. I tried playing but every time, they turned me off and ignored me. As the days went on, I did not have the energy to play. Life was bleak and no one wanted me anyway. I couldn’t even play for Aryan. What was the point if I could not make anyone happy? 

I continued these repetitive thoughts in my head. I did not have much to do now that no one liked me. I do not remember how long I was on that table top, aimlessly wasting my time, sitting lifeless with no purpose. 

Sometimes, I dreamed of me and Aryan, running through a playground, playing his favourite songs and him laughing and playing with his friends, but soon the remnant of life in him faded until it was no more and the lively hands and legs turned white like snow. He was dead at 2:03 a.m. and the doctor conveyed the message to “mom” and “dad.”

Dreary feet of people around me walked through the mud and sludge to reach a barren land. Mounds of dirt and soil covered the land and masked people carried wheel barrows and stretchers. Aryan’s stretcher was the smallest of them all. A tiny stretcher was placed on the ground and they buried my Aryan. I was watching from “mom’s” handbag as his corpse was buried, covering that lovely face with dirt and he became nothing more than a statistic, another death in a time marred with demise. 

The people had no smiles on their once bright faces so I played one last tune for that boy, something he can carry when he’s playing in the clouds, a tune he can hum to, skipping and frolicking, free from pain. I sang and sang and sang and sang….until my songs lost all meaning…just like his death.

By Ramya Sridhar

12 B , Ekya School ITPL

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itplccacoordinator / April 03, 2024

The Power of Learning with Intent: A Guide to Purposeful Education

In a world brimming with information, the art of learning has evolved beyond the mere acquisition of facts. Learning with intent, a deliberate approach to education emphasises quality over quantity, depth over breadth, and purpose over passive absorption. It’s about cultivating a mindset that transforms knowledge into meaningful action and empowers individuals to navigate the complexities of the modern age effectively.

At its core, learning with intent involves setting clear objectives and actively engaging with the subject matter. Whether exploring a new language, delving into scientific principles, or honing a creative skill, intentionality infuses each learning endeavour with purpose and direction. As Albert Einstein aptly said, "The only source of knowledge is experience." This quote amplifies the importance of active participation and hands-on learning, highlighting that true understanding arises from deliberate engagement with the material.

Furthermore, engaging actively with the material is paramount. Embrace challenges and embrace mistakes as opportunities for growth. This proactive approach not only deepens your understanding but also cultivates critical thinking and problem-solving skills essential for success in any field.

Moreover, learning with intent emphasises relevance and applicability. Seek out opportunities to apply newfound knowledge in real-world scenarios, bridging the gap between theory and practice. By contextualising learning within your personal or professional sphere, you enhance its significance and utility, making it more likely to stick.

In conclusion, learning with intent is a transformative approach that transcends traditional notions of education. By setting clear objectives, engaging actively, prioritising relevance, and fostering a growth mindset, individuals can harness the full potential of learning to achieve their goals and thrive in an ever-changing world. So, embark on your learning journey with purpose, and let each lesson propel you towards a brighter, more fulfilling future.

By Sweta Pradeep Rao

Senior English Educator

Ekya School JP Nagar

itplccacoordinator / April 02, 2024

Gadget-free Summer Break

With summer vacation around, I urge parents to explore various ways to facilitate children to make healthy choices during their vacation time.

Last week, when we asked our Early Years to visualise their characters and create a story, most of them came up with stories about ghosts and monsters attacking others.  When we had conversations about what gave them this idea, we understood that these story ideas emanated from their online games. While gaming per se develops specific skills and requires focus, it also stifles the imagination of young children. Since it is visually appealing, children tend to remember those images in their heads all the time.

I often see parents providing very young children (1 year to 3 year olds)  with gadgets as the means to keep children engaged and entertained. I see children watching phones in the waiting areas of clinics, hospitals, school lobbies and banks.

This brings us to a fundamental question “ Should children be engaged by parents all the time?” Not necessarily. What is likely to happen if children were not handed over gadgets at the waiting lounges? What would they do? Some of them may cry, some may throw a loud tantrum, and some may crib. If parents show resilience and allow children to settle down themselves, they will soon find ways to keep themselves engaged. Likewise, during summer vacation. What if this is a “no gadget” vacation and parents do not take up the responsibility to engage their children? What would children do? How can parents show resilience here and facilitate children to make healthy choices? I leave the readers with this thought for this summer vacation.

Mathangi R,

Head of School,

Ekya NICE Road.

itplccacoordinator / April 02, 2024

The Eye of the Storm

In the hushed embrace of an Indian evening, our journey began, a symphony of anticipation orchestrated by the hum of jet engines and the flutter of boarding passes. The promise of adventure beckoned from distant shores as we boarded our flight bound for the United Kingdom, our hearts aflutter with dreams of far-off lands and newfound horizons. But as we soared through the velvet sky, a foreboding shadow loomed on the horizon, a harbinger of the chaos that was soon to unfold. In the blink of an eye, the tranquil serenity of our airborne sanctuary was shattered by a deafening crack, a burst of purple lightning that danced across the heavens with an otherworldly fervour. The air crackled with electricity as the plane shuddered beneath the force of the storm, its metal frame quivering in defiance against the tempestuous onslaught. And then, in a heart-stopping moment of sheer terror, the heavens unleashed their fury upon us, casting our fragile vessel into a maelstrom of chaos and uncertainty. The sky darkened to a shade of ominous charcoal as the winds howled with a primal ferocity, tearing at the wings of our faltering craft with savage intent. The cabin was awash with panicked cries and frantic prayers as we clung to our seats with white-knuckled desperation, each passing moment stretching into eternity.

And then, as if mocking our feeble attempts at control, the plane tilted almost 180 degrees, its nose plummeting towards the earth with a sickening lurch. Time seemed to stand still as we hurtled towards the ground, our fate hanging in the balance as the world spun wildly out of control. But just when all hope seemed lost, a glimmer of salvation emerged from the chaos, a beacon of light amidst the encroaching darkness. With a mighty roar, the engines surged to life once more, their thunderous symphony drowning out the cacophony of the storm as we clawed our way back from the brink of oblivion. As the storm clouds parted and the sun cast its golden rays upon the horizon, we emerged battered but unbroken, our spirits buoyed by the triumph of the human spirit in the face of adversity. And though our journey had been fraught with peril and uncertainty, we emerged from the crucible of the skies stronger and more resilient than ever before. For in the crucible of adversity, we discovered the true measure of our strength, our courage, and our unwavering determination to defy the odds and chart our course through the tempestuous seas of life. As we touched down on solid ground once more, I couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of the world around us, a testament to the indomitable spirit of the human soul.

Arjun Narasimhan Kuppuswamy

Grade 8C

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#HARRY POTTER AND THE AGE OF GRIMS OF THE GREAT – A snippet by Utkarsh Vyas, Grade 5, ITPL

The scar was a topic Harry refused to discuss. Or rather ignore. His defeat of Voldemort seemed to be a century ago.

Harry felt a lot more like a Slytherin. He had agreed to something new. He felt like he wanted something new, something that will earn him the glory he wanted and deserved… but he’d have to earn it. 

Even though he was now forty years old, his birth month was not exactly far away… in fact, today was the twenty-seventh of July, and his birthday was on the thirty first.

He missed it all, fooling around in the dormitory, with Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Seamus Finnigan, and Dean Thomas. 

Seamus would currently be doing a report on dark arts that Harry had ordered him to do.

You see, Harry was the head of the Auror Department in the Ministry of Magic, now run by Aaron Babington.

Harry missed Hogwarts, even the detentions that he so often ended up in during his last and sometimes first few years at Hogwarts. Of course, most of the time, he tried to do the right thing.

He missed all the teachers in the castle that had always been his one true home.

Then there was a knock on the door of the house. Ginny went to open it, but when she did, she found nothing but the copy of the latest MAGIC SCRIPT, the local newspaper. 

TERROR IN ST. CRISTONBERG

‘The most respected hospital in the whole world,’ says Nurse Laura Carter, ‘just gets broken into by some bloke in a stupid cloak with a wand that looks as though you can squeeze it faster than clay? What cannot be wrong? My blames go to the government!’ The nurse clearly is not happy with someone who calls himself Grimsof the Great. This ‘Grimsof’ has shown a lot of criminal history … his wand is the cause of devastation amongst families whose loved ones could have been in St Cristonberg.

Harry read, then wondered aloud, ‘What is this?’ The answer, Harry did not need, as he already knew it. This was an outrage or a scandal for sure, but Harry knew that this is what will help him to earn glory again.

Harry worked the next full night, and he called Ron and Hermione. ‘I don’t get why you wish to be involved in this business,’ said Hermione on their third day of work. She got the answer from the annoyed look that Harry gave her.

Then, on the fourth day, Harry found a crucial detail: it was stated in Grimsofs’ magical profile that he had done most of his now rising crime in a place in Russia call Hemslovf. Harry, even in his wildest dreams, had never heard of this place.

So, Hermione found out more about the place, and soon enough, it was decided that Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione will go to Hemslovf to stop Grimsof from wrecking something else.

Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny were all outside the house, and each holding hands to apparate to Russia.

 So, as they all wished each other luck, they apparated a few thousand kilometers from where they were originally standing.  

In one second, they were in a place that looked as though there was a dark wizard rampage just yesterday. Harry would have tried to cook up even worse descriptions for the place if not for a sudden black bubble in the sky. Out of nowhere, a few million more came, and they formed a circle, and a portal formed… A caped figure emerged from the portal.

Grimsof had a green cape. His wand also obviously didn’t look like it could be squished like clay. His hair was straight upwards and his shoes really went well with his black and red robes.

A horrifying cackle filled the air, and no one was able to escape his deadly stare as he said, ‘So, you all have come to here to stop me? Ahh, slim chance…’

‘Yeah right… you and who else?’ Ron piped up. 

‘I alone am a death trap!’ Grimsof snapped.

‘All right then,’ said Harry as he pointed his wand and shot a spell. It was dodged.

‘NOT TODAY!’ And then there was a blast coming from Grimsof’s wand which Harry deflected. A fierce battle ensued and Harry finally deflected a spell towards Grimsof and in one loud scream, where Grimsof was once standing, there was dust everywhere.

Grimsof was defeated.   

By Utkarsh Vyas

5 B, Ekya ITPL

#Autobiography of an eraser – A humurous story by Ahana Ghosh Roy, Grade 5, ITPL

By Ahana Ghosh Roy

Grade 5, Ekya ITPL

Once upon a time when I was a rubber tree, I stood on the soil spreading my branches toward the sky. I always wished that I could be something new instead of a tree. 

One day, a group of men came and started slicing off my bark. I was writhing with pain. They took the latex that oozed out of my injured bark. It was painful for me but somewhere inside, I believed that destiny was going to turn me into something good, something beautiful, something Big…..

 I was taken into a factory where they did long processes on me and turned me into something new. I was changed into a rectangular, flexible green-colored stuff. That’s right! 

  An Eraser!   

A truck driver then came and took me in a neatly packed box. I was really excited about where I was going. Once I reached the shop I was supposed to be delivered to. The shop keeper took me and kept me in a deep, dark storage room. A few days later the shopkeeper took me and kept me outside with other erasers. They soon became my best friends. Even though I still wanted to be taken by someone so I could see the Life Of A True Eraser.

A week later a little girl named Lucie Came with her father to buy an eraser. She saw me and immediately told her father that she wanted to buy me. She put me in a nice bag and took me home. The next day she put me in her pencil pouch and took me to her school. She showed me to all her friends. And was really proud of me. 

One day, a bully in Lucie’s class told her “What good is your eraser. It’s just a boring green eraser. Look at mine It’s so bright and colorful”. I felt really bad. But when Lucie supported me, I brightened up and started doing my work very diligently. One by one, I started erasing Lucie’s mistakes. I helped her correct her spelling, grammar, etc.

Slowly and ever so slowly, I found myself diminishing and before I knew it I disappeared leaving behind only a trail of dust. 

By Ahana Ghosh Roy

Grade 5, Ekya ITPL

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