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Category: Excerpts

What is cyberbullying?

Posted on by kavyawahi

This time, the Super Six of Ganesh Colony are up to something serious! Their friend, Lakshmi, seems to be harbouring a terrible secret–she’s being bullied online! As she receives one nasty message after another, she fears being disqualified from the tournament.

Let’s read this excerpt from Chatur Chanakya vs The World Wide Web to understand what cyberbullying is.

*

The next day, Arjun walked into assembly feeling determined. He’d decided to discuss his problem with Chanakya right after assembly ended. But just as the students were about to disperse after the national anthem, Dr Dolly Henry, the principal, took over the microphone and requested the students to settle down. Everyone started looking around. This urgent meeting convened by her sent a wave of murmurs through the room that was packed to capacity. It seemed that the president, trustees, secretary and other school management were in attendance too.

Chatur Chanakya vs the World Wide Web
Chatur Chanakya vs the World Wide Web || Radhakrishnan Pillai

‘Dear students, good morning,’ Dr Henry began. ‘I know that most of you and your parents use social media. Facebook, Instagram, WhatsApp, Twitter and even YouTube . . . it is all helpful, we all know that. We find information and new ideas for projects and assignments online. It opens our minds to a new world of possibilities. It broadens our vision and we come to know what is happening around the world. But while we can use it to our advantage, let us be aware that it can also do a lot of harm.’

She paused and looked at the students with deep concern before continuing, ‘Yesterday, we were called by an official of the education department for a meeting. Principals from schools in Mulund and the surrounding areas were present there.’

Dr Henry continued, ‘Most of us have seen that both adults and children are quick to develop an addiction to smartphones and social media. But did you know that we are vulnerable to attack when we’re online? Even your parents can be targets of cybercrime. In the past, internet accounts have been hacked and money has been transferred from bank accounts by accessing personal information. But today, I’m here to talk to you about something closer to home.’ The principal’s eyes scanned the crowd. The children shifted on their feet; even the teachers sat up straight.

‘In the meeting, one of the school principals presented a case of a young girl from her school, who had made a friend on Facebook. The girl had accepted the friend request and been chatting with this friend regularly because after looking at her pictures, she thought it was someone she’d seen in her tuition classes.

‘One day, this friend asked her to meet up for a snack outside her school. When the girl agreed and went there, the friend was nowhere to be seen. Instead, a man came to her and told her that he was her friend’s father, and that she was waiting for her on the other side of the road. So this innocent girl started walking with this man. But his intention was to take her away!

‘Luckily, one of the schoolteachers saw her along with this unknown man and immediately sensed something was wrong. The teacher went and asked the girl who he was. When the teacher started to cross-examine the man, he ran away. The young girl was so shocked. She was so disturbed by this incident that she started to distrust all her friends.

‘The good news is that the girl is fine now, thanks to the support of her school, parents and friends.’ Dr Henry breathed a sigh of relief.

‘But,’ she added, ‘we have been asked to be cautious, given the rise in the number of cybercriminals and bullies. There have been cases of people who have been harassed and bullied by their own classmates. This is called cyberbullying.

My dear students, it is our responsibility as a school and management to tell you about this and make you aware of the dangers that are all around us.

**

Read to your little ones this story about cyberbullying and much more! Get your copy from the nearest bookstores or online.

About Anirudh’s dream and the adventures that follow

Posted on by kavyawahi

Here’s an excerpt from Deepak Dalal’s Sahyadri Adventure: Anirudh’s Dream, the first part of the riveting series. It’s about Anirudh’s dream and the strange events that unfolded in Pune, Mumbai, and the splendid hills of Sahyadri.

*

Sahyadri Adventure: Anirudh’s Dream
Sahyadri Adventure: Anirudh’s Dream || Deepak Dalal

Anirudh’s face was tense an hour later when Vikram and his father escorted him to the jetties. Commander Dongre watched critically as they rigged their boat. They were almost done when Chitra turned up.

‘Is this your friend, Anirudh?’ she asked, halting beside them.

The droop suddenly vanished from Anirudh’s shoulders. He shook hands with Chitra when Vikram introduced him. ‘This is Commander Dongre,’ continued Vikram, turning to Anirudh’s father. ‘He is our host, and this wonderful bay and the sailing facilities are run by him.’

Chitra’s eyes lit up. ‘Wow!  All these boats and your father in charge of them. Anirudh, you are a lucky man.’

‘He’s making use of the opportunity.’ Commander Dongre smiled, covering smoothly for his son. ‘Vikram and Aditya have spoken a lot about you, Chitra. My wife wants to meet you too. She wants to invite you to join us for dinner tonight. She’s at the spectator tent. Shall we go there? We can watch the last race together.’

Anirudh’s eyes weren’t dull anymore. Vikram didn’t try figuring out what had brought about the change; he was simply thankful for having a sunny, helpful partner. Aditya and Kiran’s boat pulled away from the jetty. Anirudh yelled and waved at them. Vikram cast off and they followed, their sail fluttering and hull creaking as their boat cut through the dark waters of the bay.

A tongue of land jutted like a breakwater to starboard, sheltering the waters of the bay, and though the lake was only gently ruffled where they sailed,  ahead, beyond the protective barrier,  there were waves and a deep swell.  A strong wind was sweeping the lake and dark clouds were mobbing the sky.

‘Prepare yourself,’ hollered Vikram.  ‘Action stations! The wind is going to belt us when we hit open water.’

The lake turned restless and suddenly,  like a howling express train, the wind was upon them. The boat shuddered, listing sharply to port.

‘Hike out!’ screamed Vikram, as he pulled the rudder and trimmed the sail.

Sahyadri Adventure: Koleshwar’s Secret
Sahyadri Adventure: Koleshwar’s Secret || Deepak Dalal

Anirudh leaned out across the water, his eyes closed. The competition had elevated  Vikram’s skill at the helm several fold and a delicious thrill of accomplishment coursed through him as his  Enterprise-class sailboat shot forward. The speed of the vessel was heady, the fastest he had ever achieved on a boat. They were scything forward as if jet-propelled.

The upper half of  Anirudh’s body was hiked out across the water.  The brilliant orange of his life jacket contrasted brightly against the asphalt-black water. His long hair was wet and his face seemed calm, exhibiting no sign of fear.

The white wake of their Enterprise boat was one of several streaking the lake. Sails flapped noisily everywhere and whoops of exhilaration reverberated across the lake.  Amongst sailors, there is only one climatic condition that stokes wild enthusiasm and excitement: the wind. This was a genuine wind, and its tumultuous presence was conjuring a grand setting for the regatta’s final race.

It wasn’t long before their boat neared the far shore of the lake. Vikram tacked around and Anirudh responded like a seasoned professional, shifting smoothly to the opposite sideboard and adjusting his body weight perfectly.

An imaginary line between two buoys was the starting zone for the race and boats were already massing there. Their colourful sails seemed butterfly-like as they clustered about the invisible line. The race was to start at 3.30 p.m. and Vikram’s watch indicated it was time to join the butterflies and hover between the starting posts.

Loud voices greeted them as they fell in with the boats prowling the start zone.

‘We’re going to thrash you, Vikram!’

‘Give yourself a break, Anirudh, you’re shaking like the sails.’

‘You’re a crummy sailor, Vikram. The wind is going to sink you.’

‘Best of luck, buddy.’Though the banter sometimes sounded coarse, it was always conducted in good spirit.

Celebrating India One Story At A Time

Posted on by kgoba

Nothing encourages a young mind’s imagination like reading about an icon. From athletes who broke records to civilians who changed lives, THE PUFFIN BOOK OF 100 EXTRAORDINARY INDIANS is a celebration of India’s best. 

Read on to catch a short glimpse of the diverse range of stories!

100 Extraordinary Indians || Puffin Books

*

Pioneer Oceanographer – Aditi Pant

As young Aditi neared the end of her experimental work for her PhD in Physiology in Marine Algae from Westfield College, London, during 1971–72, she had a pressing question—what now? And fate had the answer for her. During the last leg of her programme, she met Professor N.K. Panikkar, a senior Indian scientist, the founder and director of the National Institute of Oceanography (NIO), Goa. Speaking to him, a lot of questions came up in Aditi’s mind, and one was whether India had jobs in oceanography. Professor Panikkar challenged, ‘All I know is that there is a lot of work waiting for the person who has the guts to take it up. Of course, you will get far better salaries just about anywhere else.’ Aditi took up this challenge. She dropped her plan to continue abroad, joined NIO and relocated to India in 1973 after completing her doctorate. Aditi Pant then went on to create history by becoming the first Indian woman (along with Sudipta Sengupta) to set foot on Antarctica.

 

Magnificent Mary – Mangte Chungneijang Mary Kom

Young Mary Kom had neither seen coach L. Ibomcha Singh before nor did she know that he did not appreciate being disturbed during his training sessions. Driven by what she thought was her calling and knowing that Ibomcha was the perfect guide for her first steps, she walked into the hall to ask the students about Oja (a Manipuri honorific) Ibomcha. A beefy man who Mary thought looked like Mike Tyson walked up to her and said, ‘I am Sir Ibomcha. What do you want with me?’ Mary said she wanted him to be her boxing coach. The coach asked who she was and asked her to wait outside till his training session was over. Mary waited and prayed that she would be accepted as a student. Oja Ibomcha finally came out and wondered why Mary wanted to join boxing. He said she was a frail girl. Pointing at her gold earrings, he remarked that she didn’t look like a boxer and that the sport was for ‘young boys’. Sensing the girl’s disappointment at his remarks, Ibomcha inquired about her family and where she lived. Finally, he said, ‘If you are really interested, you may join, but I am very strict about the routine and timing. If you can’t keep up, don’t join.’ Mary was ecstatic—she could follow her dream now.

 

The Clothing Man – Anshu Gupta

On a cold day in December in the early 1990s, a young journalist was scanning the streets of Delhi for an interesting story. When he saw a middle-aged man gingerly pushing a cart with his ‘wares’ hidden beneath white shrouds occupying the full length of the cart, he asked the man out of curiosity, ‘What do you sell?’ The man stopped the cart and stared at the journalist. ‘Read this, sahib,’ he said, pointing at the verbiage on the side of the cart. It read ‘laawaris laash uthane wala’. The man, Habib, picked up unclaimed corpses for a living and was employed by the police. His work involved picking up the bodies of homeless and unidentified people who had died alone on the streets or in hospitals. Each such body fetched Habib a meagre amount of Rs 20. Winters were a busy period for him because more people died due to inadequate clothing.

In another incident, the young journalist found a destitute six-year-old girl who hugged dead bodies in a cremation ground whenever she felt cold. This shook him. These incidents, as well as subsequent interactions with other underprivileged people in Uttarkashi (where hundreds of people died and innumerable people lost their homes after the earthquake in 1991) had a profound impact on this young journalist, Anshu Gupta.

 

The Emperor from the Deccan – Krishnadevaraya

A popular legend about Krishnadevaraya goes as follows: It was the coronation ceremony in the kingdom of Vijayanagara in the early 1500s. A new king would soon ascend the lion throne. Timmarasu, the prime minister who was affectionately known as Appaji, was happy that Krishnadevaraya was taking over the reins of the kingdom. Appaji had been a father figure, coach and mentor to Krishnadevaraya. Legend says that before the coronation, Appaji asked to see the would-be king in private as there was one last teaching to be imparted. Once alone with his mentee, Appaji slapped him across the face, leaving Krishnadevaraya stunned for a moment, but he realized that there would be a lesson in this too. Appaji explained that the young king should never forget life’s adversities and how painful punishments could be. Appaji concluded his final lesson by saying that after the coronation, he wouldn’t have the right to discipline and would only be taking orders from the king. Krishnadevaraya graciously accepted the teaching.

Once the coronation rituals ended, the king summoned Appaji and other courtiers. The new king requested the group to instruct him about the court protocols and royal conduct. Appaji, along with the courtiers, gave him advice on conducting himself, running the state, dealing with enemies, avoiding vices. Krishnadevaraya understood that as a king, his aim should be to reward the good and punish the bad. He would need to be sensible while dispensing justice—how well he followed dharma would measure his success. He put these tenets of good governance into practice during his reign of two decades.

*

Read the stories of our country’s greatest icons, get your own copy of THE PUFFIN BOOK OF 100 EXTRAORDINARY INDIANS from your nearest bookstore!

Dive into the world of tales

Posted on by kavyawahi

Geeta Ramanujam’s Tales from the World will take you on a long journey and introduce you to many fascinating characters. Collected from storytellers on snow-capped mountains, and in eerie forests, opulent palaces and countries near and far, the captivating folk tales in Tales from the World have mesmerized old and young alike. Travel along with this imaginative storyteller and author as she shares peculiar myths and incredible trivia from around the world in this beautifully illustrated volume of twenty tales from Russia, Japan, France, Tibet, India, Korea, Scotland and more.

Let’s read an excerpt from the book about a story from Russia.

*

Tales from the World
Tales from the World || Geeta Ramanujam

Just after the world was created, filled with its trees and mountains and birds, God created a young maiden called Lindu, and left all the birds in her charge. She lived with her father Uko at the very edge of the world, between the sky and Earth. Lindu had the powers to recognize the song of each bird and sing them too. She knew where the birds had flown in autumn, and sent each flock on its way.

Lindu cared for the birds tenderly; she was a godmother to them. She knew how to direct winds to assist the birds as they flew to their destinations. She set fierce dust storms upon hunters who tried to kill her birds or hunt them down. It was not surprising that all the world loved her, those who dwelt in the sky most of all.

The North Star wished to marry Lindu and drove up to her father’s palace in a dusky coach drawn by six black horses. Adorned in a silver cloak and crown in shades of silver, he came bearing ten fine presents for Lindu and drove gracefully through the gates of Uko’s palace to ask for her hand.

However, Lindu was not very fond of the North Star. ‘Why don’t you want to marry me?’ inquired the disappointed North Star. ‘Well, I like to move and travel whereas you just stay fixed in one place in the sky. You are the watchtower of heaven.

Please, sir, return to your place, for I cannot accompany you there.’ Now, the moon decided to take his chances and drove to the palace in a beautiful coach of silver with six grey horses made of clouds. Dressed in white robes and a crown filled with white dewdrops, he presented her with twenty presents and said, ‘Lindu, will you be my wife?’

‘You change your face too often, moon, and that does not suit me,’ she said. The moon waned and returned to the night sky.

‘Well,’ thought the sun, ‘perhaps Lindu might like my bright gold face.’

The sun arrived in a beautiful coach of gold, led by gold and red horses, and rode through dusk to the forest where Lindu was taking care of her birds. Lindu walked up to him, bowed her head and said, ‘I know what you are thinking. I am sorry, but I love change. I love the changing seasons, the climate, the winds and anything that is not constant. You are so precious and graceful, but you have to be vigilant and cannot change at all. That might not suit me, sir.’

The sun too rode away into the purple-pink sky, disappointed and sad. Now, the Northern Light had been watching each suitor drive away disappointed and decided to ask for Lindu’s hand himself, confident that he’d be triumphant. He emerged from his home at midnight, his beautiful colours lighting up the night sky. He’d crafted a coach with diamonds, which was drawn by a thousand white horses. He wore a rainbow cloak and a crown made of gems from the sea. Behind him was another coach filled with gold, silver, pearls and gifts for Lindu. He looked radiant as he left an indigo, purple, blue and pink trail across the sky on his way to Uko’s palace.

‘Lindu,’ he called out, ‘if you marry me, you will not have to follow me like a shadow. You will not have to travel the same path as the others. You can set out anytime you wish and rest when it pleases you. Would you like to be my bride?’ He bent down on his knees to ask for Lindu’s hand.

So, what do you think Lindu said? Lindu’s choice was made.

It was agreed that the wedding would take place when the birds flew south. The wedding day was announced, and guests from the four corners of the sky and Earth arrived to bless the couple.

The torrential winds brought Lindu her silvery bridal veil and the Frost King wove her laces so fine, they had to be stored in cold blocks of ice for safekeeping. Birds from all over brought her robes the colours of butterfly wings. For her feet, she got sandals made of thick clouds and decorated with petals fallen from flowers. The weaver birds stitched them together and hid them under the cotton tree. Back to his home in the midnight land went the Northern Light, knowing that Lindu loved him best.

Jambavana- the wisest bear in the world!

Posted on by prhi-dev

In her latest book, Fantastic Creatures in Mythology, Bulbul Sharma brings to us multiple stories of never-heard-of creatures like Jambavana and Airvata or unknown dimensions of the ones we already know of, like Jatayu and Narasimha.

Here is an excerpt from the book telling the story of Jambavana, the wisest bear in the world!

Fantastic Creatures in Mythology by Bulbul Sharma
Fantastic Creatures in Mythology || Bulbul Sharma

 

‘When anyone asked Jambavana, the noble king of bears, his age, he would shut his eyes and think. He would smile and then continue, ‘Let’s see . . . I was present when Vamana, one of Lord Vishnu’s avatars, took three rounds of the three worlds in just three giant steps. Ah! I have even seen the golden glory of the blue-skinned Lord Krishna and heard him play his magical flute. Now that I am old, I wait here in this quiet, lonely place to serve Lord Rama.’

 

Jambavana was blessed from the day he was born, when Lord Brahma had yawned one morning and from his breath, this mighty bear had been created. When the king of bears was young, he was said to have had the strength of ten thousand lions. He was the strongest bear of all. In fact, he had made rounds of the earth at lightning speed several times. But now, hundreds of centuries had passed, and all the great bear did was live quietly in the forest and think about all the wonderful things he had seen in his long, long life.

 

One day, he looked far out to the seashore and noticed that all the monkeys and bears were running about, making a lot of noise. He knew why they were so agitated. The king of monkeys, Sugriva, in whose army Jambavana once served as a general, had told him that Rama, the prince of Ayodhya, was here looking for his wife, Sita.

 

Sugriva explained that the demon king of Lanka had kidnapped her and taken her away in his golden chariot. They had heard that she was somewhere in Lanka, but no one really knew where exactly she was being held prisoner. Sugriva had promised Rama that his entire army of monkeys and bears would help him rescue Sita. With folded hands, Hanuman, the cleverest and bravest of all the monkeys, sat at Rama’s feet. He was so keen to serve Lord Rama, but did not know what to do. Everyone gazed at the vast ocean that lay between

them and Ravana’s kingdom. Who could possibly cross this turbulent ocean? Which of them was strong enough to leap hundreds of feet through the air?

 

The waters were rough; the waves rose as tall as mountains and crashed down with a thunderous, deafening sound. Everyone gathered there knew that rakshasis guarded this ocean, and so, no one had been able to muster the courage to cross it until now. As the monkeys racked their brains, their leader Angada asked, ‘Which one of you brave monkeys will leap across the ocean, find Sita and bring her back?’ At first, there was complete silence and the monkey army did not even move. Then a few well-built monkeys stepped forward. They bowed their heads and one of them said, ‘We can jump very high, sir, and even though we are not really sure if we can cross this ocean, we are willing to try. We do not mind dying in the attempt. We want to serve Lord Rama and be loyal soldiers to our noble king.’ Meanwhile, Hanuman stood back quietly, looking out at the ocean. All he could see was an endless expanse of water and no land beyond it. Lanka seemed

like a dream! How could any ordinary monkey cross this ocean? It was an impossible task.

 

Whoever tried to leap across would just drown and never be found again. Hanuman sighed. His eyes filled with tears as he whispered to himself, ‘If only I could do something

to help rescue Ma Sita.’ All of a sudden, the noble king of bears, Jambavana, appeared and stood next to him. ‘Why do you stand here alone, Hanuman, with such sadness in your eyes?’ he asked in his deep voice. ‘I want to cross this ocean and find Ma Sita.

I want to serve my Lord Rama, but I don’t know how to. How can one leap across these unsafe waters? Look at those monstrous waves rising and falling like mad elephants on the run. How will I get across this cruel sea? Nobody can.’ Hanuman sighed, his eyes full

of regret.

 

Jambavana turned and looked at Hanuman. He took a deep breath, patted his back and said, ‘Listen to me, my son. Listen to me very carefully. I have lived a long life and I have seen things that you are not even aware of. Today, I am going to tell you something important.’ Hanuman lifted his head and looked at Jambavana.

 

With a solemn expression, the old bear said, ‘Hanuman, you are not aware of your great strength because of a curse cast upon you by an angry sage many years ago, when you were young. This curse made you forget everything. ‘You know that your mother, Anjana, was an apsara from the heavens, and your father, Vayu, was the god of wind. But have you forgotten that as a child you stole the very sun because you thought it was a ripe red fruit and you wanted to taste it?’ Jambavana’s eyes crinkled as he smiled.

 

He continued, ‘Do you know the great Lord Indra threw his thunderbolt at you, but your father saved you? Furious at Indra, he stopped the winds from blowing. Soon, every living creature on Earth gasped for breath, and finally, when Indra asked Vayu for forgiveness, he blessed you with eternal life. Brahma gave you a boon too and made you invincible. With Varuna’s blessing, water cannot harm you. With Agni’s boon, fi re cannot burn you. And your father, Vayu, made you faster than the wind!’

Hanuman looked at the wise bear with astonished eyes.

 

Jambavana slowly nodded and patted Hanuman. ‘Look within your heart, son of Vayu, and you will find that you are not an ordinary monkey but a unique creature with more strength, wisdom and courage than anyone of your kind. I am as old as the ancient hills and I have seen a number of great warriors, but you, Hanuman, will be the greatest

amongst them.’

 

As Hanuman heard the old bear speak, something stirred his mind, something he had long forgotten. Jambavana’s words were like magic, and they seemed to take him to a faraway place where he was once a monkey with amazing power and strength. Hanuman could feel himself changing! Fresh blood raced in his veins and his eyes sparkled with a new-found energy. He could feel his arms and legs becoming stronger.’

 

What do you think happens next in this story? Was Hanuman able to cross the waters and get to Lanka?

 

Read more of such interesting stories in Bulbul Sharma’s Fantastical Creatures of Mythology.

Will Supersleuths be able to solve this mystery?

Posted on by kavyawahi

Rachita and Aarti have a nemesis who is out to destroy them. Garbage vandals are defacing walls of residential societies. Aarti’s birthday presents include miniature coasters. Rachita starts having egg-themed nightmares. Are these happenings related to the mysterious time-travelling detective gang that is challenging the Superlative Supersleuths? We’re all eager to find out!

Here’s an intriguing excerpt from the third book in the Superlative Super Sleuths series titled The Case of the Nosy Time Travellers.

*

The Case of the Nosy
The Case of the Nosy || Archit Taneja

Our sleuthing services had been in high demand since we got semi-famous last winter. I’d thought that having Vipul and Ashwin as official Supersleuths would help us manage the load, but the number of cases just kept growing. Aarti had come up with the idea of creating a website during the summer vacations. It’s been a great success: anyone can anonymously request us to solve a mystery. We encourage others to solve them too. It reduces our workload, and we feel good about keeping the spirit of sleuthing alive. Jyoti and Shilpa from our class formed a team and claimed that they’ll solve one before us one of these days. They’ve been failing miserably so far.

 

We had got a request two days earlier. Someone was vandalizing walls in Aarti’s apartment complex, the Shobhana Hillside View. One of the boundary walls had been smeared with garbage from the dustbins. This had been happening for just under a week. The adults didn’t seem to care much since the wall wasn’t visible during their evening walks or early morning yoga classes, but it stank up the area where the kids played football. Aarti hadn’t noticed it either—she had been busy pet-proofing her home for the last five days.

 

We had scouted the boundary wall before the party began. It was already dark by then, but my phone’s flashlight was enough to make some initial observations. The garbage patterns on the wall looked random. If the vandals were human, I’d expect them to leave some sort of message behind. Vandals leave messages because it made them look cool. They’d have made some art out of the garbage or arranged it to form curse words or something like that.

 

Interestingly, smearing trash on the walls seemed a nice way to segregate it. The wet waste remained stuck on the walls, while the dry waste slowly fell down. Could it be that the vandals understood the importance of recycling and wanted the people in the society to segregate their waste better? I noticed a glum-looking eggshell and a banana peel on the ground. I picked them up and smeared them on the wall again so that they could be back with their wet-waste brothers and sisters.

 

I tried to convince the security guards to show me the CCTV footage. They didn’t take me seriously, even when I tried to bribe them. I put them on the suspect list. My hunch was that the criminal was an animal, one that was really fond of playing with garbage. I’ve heard of pet owners complain about that. We couldn’t spot any strays in the society, so it was likely to be someone’s pet.

 

‘How many pets are left?’ I whispered into the mic. ‘Around a dozen, I guess. Over,’ Ashwin responded. ‘Make it quick, people will start to leave soon,’ I said. I’ve explained to Ashwin several times that he doesn’t need to use ‘Over’ when he finishes a message. We’re not in the 1950s any more, when only one person could speak on the radio channel at a time. But he insists on doing it because that’s how he’s seen it being done in movies.

 

I’d asked Aarti to invite everyone in the society who had pets, even if she didn’t know them well. She didn’t have a problem with that. For her, it just meant more gifts and more pets to cuddle with. Uncle and Aunty weren’t pleased, but they couldn’t say no. Our school counsellor must have recommended to our parents that they be extra nice to us after what we had been through.

**

To find out more about the spying adventures of Rachita and Aarti, read The Case of the Nosy Time Travellers.

Dreamers Series: Stories of Teejan Bai and Satyajit Ray

Posted on by kavyawahi

The vividly illustrated stories of Teejan Bai and Satyajit Ray in Lavanya Karthik’s Dreamers Series are inspiring for young kids. Karthik’s stories and artworks are perfectly synced with the high and low notes of Teejan Bai’s life and have captured the most significant shots of Satyajit Ray’s life. Both of them are acknowledged and appreciated for their unique talents.

Get your children hooked to the pages of Dreamers Series and let them get inspired to hone their skills. Here’s a glimpse of the younger selves of Teejan Bai and Satyajit Ray.

*

The Girl Who Loved To Sing: Teejan Bai
The Girl Who Loved To Sing: Teejan Bai
The Girl Who Loved To Sing: Teejan Bai || Lavanya Karthik

Once again, Teejan sneaks out after her chores for lessons with her grandfather.

Brijlal gives her her first tanpura.

‘Become your characters! Become your story!’

‘Feel the music!

‘Feel the story!

‘Feel it come alive!’

Teejan sings!

‘Don’t just sing—become the song!

‘Become the characters in it!’

Teejan cannot eat, she cannot sleep! All she can think of is song.

She forgets her chores; she ignores her siblings, until one day,

Ma catches her singing . . .

Teejan runs away.

 

The Boy Who Played with Light: Satyajit Ray
The Boy Who Played with Light: Satyajit Ray
The Boy Who Played with Light: Satyajit Ray || Lavanya Karthik

There was light in the new home we made.

In the eyes of the family that welcomed us.

In the stories that Ma told me every night.

In the notebooks I filled with drawings, just like Baba once did.

But . . .

The shadows were always there.

They loomed in corners, watching me.

They crouched under tables, muttering and hissing.

I tried to describe them to my family.

My cousins chuckled. ‘Manik will be a writer like his baba!’

The shadows lurked in doorways.

They followed me through the house.

I thought my drawings might help.

‘What an imagination!’ Ma smiled. ‘Manik will be an artist like his baba!’

I raced through the house, up the stairs, down the corridors. The shadows followed!

‘Manik!’ my aunt called out, through the haze of the afternoon heat. ‘Play quietly! We’re trying to sleep!’

I dodged!

I dived!

I ducked!

The shadows kept pace!

Until . . .  An open door!

. . .

They were stories, waiting for me to notice them.

 

**

Read The Girl Who Loved To Sing: Teejan Bai and The Boy Who Played with Light: Satyajit Ray from Lavanya Karthik’s ‘Dreamers Series’ to know what happens in the lives of these two great personalities and how did they become as the world knows them today.

Scientists, Mary, and topi rocket from Thumba

Posted on by kavyawahi

In this book about the launch of a rocket from Thumba, Menaka Raman’s story and characters are sure to tap on the creative nerves of young kids. The first time when Mary heard that a rocket will be a launched from Thumba, her excitement knew no bounds. She was bitten by an inquisitive bug and had a list of questions to find the answers of. She waited and hoped to see the rocket go up in Space every day.

Here’s an extract for those who, like Mary, are eager to know about India’s first ever rocket launch.

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Topi Rockets from Thumba
Topi Rockets from Thumba || Menaka Raman

January 1963

Every morning, a rickety old bus would arrive in Thumba from Trivandrum and drop off a group of men.

Everyone would come out of their homes and shops, wondering what was inside the many boxes the men carried into the church, watching them as they cycled from here to there or walked together in pairs.

Mary watched too, but her friends at school did not care.

‘So what?’ said George Thomas.

‘Big deal!’ dismissed Thomas George.

‘Who cares?’ shrugged Shoshakutty.

‘I can launch a rocket all by myself!’ boasted Chacko.

‘Why does Dr Sarabhai need so many people to launch just one rocket then?’ Mary wondered.

One day, Mary and her amma were on their way to the market when she saw a car pulling up outside the church. She caught sight of a tall man unfolding himself from the back seat, and knew immediately who it was.

Mary ran right up to him once again.

‘Dr Sarabhai! When is the rocket going to be ready? Why is it taking so long? My friend Chacko can launch a rocket all by himself. Why do you need so many people?’

Dr Sarabhai’s eyes lit up.

‘Mary, you remind me of myself when I was your age. Always asking questions! Let me try and answer yours.’

It’s taking time because India’s friends from around the world are sending us things we need for the rocket launch. We have to wait for them to arrive and only then can we start to put things together. And I need the help of hundreds and hundreds of hands and minds to do it.

The National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA) of the United States is sending us a NIKE APACHE ROCKET. They are also training our scientists at their centres in America.

March 1963

Days, weeks and months came and went. Mary turned ten. Ouso made her ayala fry, Amma stitched her a new dress and her brother gifted her his old bicycle.

Some days, Mary would cycle by the church to see if she could catch sight of the rocket.

But there was no rocket.

Mary studied hard for her exams, praying they would not launch the rocket while she was writing her maths paper.

They didn’t.

She spent the summer holidays learning swimming in the lazy blue sea.

Nothing.

Mary celebrated Palm Sunday, Easter Friday and Onam.

Mary was disappointed.

But her friends at school were not.

Sometimes, Mary wished she was one of the pigeons that sat on the rafters high up on the ceiling of the church so that she could see what was happening inside.

 

September 1963

By now, Mary knew some of the serious men who worked in the church. She knew where they were from and what they ate for breakfast. She discovered they were not so serious after all. And since Dr Sarabhai wasn’t always there to answer her questions, she had started asking them instead.

Mary: What are the parts of a rocket?

Scientist 1: A rocket has four main parts: the nose cone, fins, rocket body and engine. The nose cone carries the main cargo or payload of the rocket.

Mary: How do you launch a rocket?

Scientist 2: Rockets burn fuel in the engine and this creates exhaust. The hot exhaust comes out very fast in one direction pushing the rocket in the opposite direction! WHOOSH!

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To know the answers to Mary’s numerous questions about Space and rockets, read Topi Rockets from Thumba.

Is there a proverb your grandparents use often?

Posted on by prhi-dev

Grandparents play an important part in a child’s worldview. But our favourite childhood allies grow old and sick and may at times get confused and stop to recognize us! Xerxes is facing the same challenge where his main ally Grandpa is not himself and he is having to solve the complex problems in his life, right from bullies at school to the growing tension at home, all alone.

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‘So, did it work?’

‘It worked, Grandpa, I not only found my essay; I found my badge, too!’

He tried to go in to hug him but Grandpa put out his walking stick and barred his way.

‘You have to pay me! Now give me something sweet.’

Xerxes stopped short.

‘It’s the rule. If Ratan Bhagat worked, you’ve to give me something sweet.’

‘I don’t have anything. Later.’

‘No. Now. That’s what it means, Ratan Bhagat ni khan. Khan as in something sweet.’

Xerxes dashed out again and tried to get in through the side door into the kitchen. But Grandpa raced there and banged it shut.

‘Grandpa, if you let me into the kitchen, I can give you a sweet.’

When Sonji came in she found Grandpa holding the door fast against Xerxes.

‘Papa, what’re you doing? Let him inside.’

Grandpa suddenly started yelling.

‘Help! Help me! There’s a thief!’

Sonji calmed him down and took him to his room. Then she confronted Xerxes.

‘Don’t ever do that again, Xeroo! You know that Mamavaji’s old and gets confused. Why in the world were you coming in through the kitchen?’

Xerxes was about to blurt out all that had happened, but then held his tongue as he realized he’d have to admit he’d been very forgetful.

*

Bringing Back Grandpa is a touching and funny story of the confusions of growing up and tackling challenges and of how children are affected when there is illness and tension at home.

 

The boisterous, bewitching world of Butterfingers is back!

Posted on by prhi-dev

Look out! It’s Butterfingers again, and in smashing form!

There’s a lot going on in Green Park School. Ozymandias, a black cat, walks into classrooms and there’s a buzz about a badminton tournament that is to be played on Friday the thirteenth.

Sponsored by Brijesh K. Singh, an eccentric multimillionaire who loves badminton and hates superstitions, this tournament is good news for sports-crazy Amar Kishen, aka Butterfingers, and his friends.

Badminton practice begins, but can it be smooth sailing with talk of scams, superstitions and suspicions? Butterfingers sure has a lot on his hands!

Here’s an excerpt from Smash It, Butterfingers that will take you into the wild, whimsical world of Amar.

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Amar was superstitious when it came to sports, for he believed one should leave nothing to chance. Cricks in the neck were normal after he had watched important matches, because his heroes, with great timing, unerringly went for match-turning shots just when he was in an awkward position. There was an occasion when he had just looked over his shoulder to locate the potato chips, when Nadal, his tennis idol, hit his first winner at a French Open final. Amar had watched the rest of the match frozen in the same pose, head held at an uncomfortable 45-degree angle, afraid to move lest it triggered off a series of unforced errors. He couldn’t turn his neck properly for a week, but so what? All in a good cause.

But now here were Sindhu and Saina before him. Was he dreaming? He rubbed his eyes again. Sindhu turned to him and offered him a plate on which medals glinted, dazzling his eyes. Saina held out another plate.

‘Do you want to wear my world champion gold medal?’ Sindhu asked, dangling it and flashing her trademark broad smile.

Amar couldn’t believe he had heard her right. Elbowing Kiran aside, he said, ‘Yes, please,’ in an awed tone, stretching out his right hand to accept the plate on which she had dropped the medal.

‘No, no, take my Olympic bronze medal first,’ Saina said, holding out her plate. Confused, he looked from one plate to the other, accepted both and promptly dropped them.

‘Butter!’ yelled Kiran, dismayed. ‘You’ve done it again!’ Amar’s uncanny ability to drop things had given him the nickname Butterfingers, and he never allowed anyone to forget his formidable reputation with regular demonstrations of his slip-grip methods.

‘Oops, sorry!’ His most used phrase escaped his lips as the plates rolled merrily in two different directions, scattering the medals about. Bzzzzzzzz!!! The medals turned into a thick cluster of bees and mosquitoes that made a beeline for him. He took to his heels in horror with Kiran panting behind him. Sindhu and Saina, meanwhile, had jumped up in rage and, brandishing their racquets that had been resting against the stone like battle axes, gave chase.

‘Help! Help!’ Amar thrashed his arms about to protect himself and dodge the dangerously swinging racquets, only to find the fast-multiplying insects coming closer and forming a dense hood about his face, from which he struggled to escape . . .

‘Ummph! Mmph!’ Amar woke up breathless as he tried to break free from the sheet that he had managed to wrap tightly about his neck and over his head in his sleep. He flailed his hands about like the tentacles of an octopus until a lucky tug finally secured his release. Gasping, he surfaced and began to breathe in large gulps of air. ‘Whew!!’ he muttered. ‘What a nightmare. But I actually saw Sindhu! And Saina! And I thought I glimpsed Lin Dan in the background. Get lost, you!’

He brushed away a mosquito that sang around his head. Parched, he croaked, ‘Water! Help, I’m dying of thirst!’

**

Join Amar on his hilarious adventures as he defies luck with his madcap schemes. Let the game begin!

 

 

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