Answer: (Jarawa in Andaman, Lepcha in Sikkim,Jaunsari in Uttarakhand, Kondh in Orissa,
Bodo in Assam, Khasi in Meghalaya, Gond in Madhya Pradesh, Gaddi in Himachal Pradesh,
Rabari in Gujarat, Bhil in Rajasthan)
She had never been the one to cry. But now, she felt hot stinging tears at the back of her eyes. “No,” she told herself, “You are not going to cry.” Yet a solitary tear managed to escape her will. “Damn it,” she thought, brushing it off hastily. Stop being such a weakling. But it was too much. The pain. The anger. The fear that was the worst of all. It were the voices, you see. The strange mutterings. They were everywhere. Whispers. Softly uttered syllables that would taunt her. Torment her. Oh, they were quite practically inaudible. Yet they froze her blood. She wanted to believe that they were lying. She did, really. But a nagging doubt still lurked. What if they were right? What if she was too naïve to see the reality? Every day she was plagued by that thought. She wished the voices would stop. But they continued to haunt her. They were not evil. She knew that. They were merely echoes. Echoes of despair, of brutality. Of thoughts fed by human depravity. But they had grown strong. She found herself weakened by their sheer omnipresence, defenceless against the words that were whispered.
Words that became firmly rooted ideas. It was ironic, really. She was strong. She had survived incredible ordeals. Yet in the end, her nemesis had proved to be an idea. The idea that there was no more reason for her to exist. She was still fighting, oh yes. But she was tired. The self-doubt within led to an increasing sense of powerlessness. She sighed. Perhaps she had become archaic. A relic of the past, with no place in today’s world. Perhaps, it would be better to just
gradually fade away.
Who is she? She is Conscience. Empathy. Compassion. Hope. The spirit of humanity. She resides in each and every one of us. For now, she is dying. And what about the voices that are killing her? Those too we have heard. Oh yes, we have, though we may not have realised. Unknowingly, we let them in. We nurture them; let them grow within us. And then we watch. We watch silently, as the voices devour her, piece by piece. Her dying groans are audible for all to hear. Sharp, painful cries that reverberate in the wind. And us? Me and you? We are still watching.
Choco lava cupcakes
Ragini Koachhar, AIS Noida, VIII J
For the cupcake batter
Cocoa powder 30 gm
Egg 1 large
Caster sugar 120 gm
Refined flour 120 gm
Baking powder 1 tsp
Salted butter 65 gm
Olive oil 2 tbsp
For the lava
Dark/milk chocolate 300 g
Fresh/whipped cream 220 ml
Red chili powder optional
In a bowl, beat together cocoa powder and eggs using a whisk.
Add all the batter ingredients to this mixture and mix well.
Once the batter is ready, pour it in greased cupcake moulds and bake at 350 degree celsius for 20 mins.
While the cupcakes are cooling, heat the chocolate and cream in a double boiler and stir at 30 second intervals until well combined. Add the chili powder.
Once the cupcakes have cooled down, make a small hole in the middle of the cupcake using a knife until half way through.
Fill the hole in the cupcakes with the chocolate mixture.
Let the remaining chocolate mixture cool into ganache.
Now, pipe the chocolate ganache on the cupcakes. Garnish with cocoa powder and serve with ice-cream.
Nothing can stop me
Piyush Senapati, AIS Noida, VIII N
I look at the darkening road
Will my little heart be all right
Surely I must pursue it with weary feet
And find myself at crossroads
And I’ll tell myself, not to go off-road
The road goes on but nothing to stop me
But I shall not halt, no I won’t
Try not to stop me, oh please don’t
Let the sky be dark and melancholy
I’ll keep moving, to victory or to folly
There is tempest on the rolling plains
It rages on far and near
The clouds are bursting
The lightning bolts are a shining spear
Both sea and land are berserk
And thereupon the rising tide
There is a mighty din
And noisy stormy ride
Let the violent tempest roar
But I’ll keep going on and on
I will never give up; I’ll never go under
Let the road go on and on,
But I’ll just keep on moving
Because nothing can stop me.
Creativity is infinity
Aaditri Gangwaar, AIS VKC Lko, VIII A
Sometimes you just need to think
Capture your ideas in colours and inks
When your pens and colours run
You need your mind to think as one
Artistic expressions on a poem's verse
Music, art, culture so diverse
Your mind is your crafting plot
In which there's an imagination slot
God has given you a storage box
Where you have to think
To drive your mind to infinity
There's no end to your creativity.