"That you are here—that life exists, and identity,
That the powerful play goes on, and you will contribute a verse."- Walt Whitman.
This poem/quote describes me perfectly. I always strive to see the glass half filled, no matter what and do my part to make the world a better place to live in. This is what also makes me love life and learn new things, whenever possible. I like writing, going into the depth of concepts that interest me and then figure whatever I can. Writing and reading is something I am passionate about besides listening to music and watching movies. Teaching and spirituality have caught my interest of late. If there is to know, there is a to know a lot about me(which can't be expressed in just a few.. more than modest words) and if there is to know not, there is to know nothing.
6th grade teacher (National school, Virar, Maharashtra)
Majors in Economics (Wilson College, Mumbai);
Bachelors of education (Pushpanjali College, Vasai, Maharashtra)
Austrian School of Thought, writing, blogging, reading, cinema, spirituality, teaching, music to state a few.
Teaching English to 5th and 6th grade students in the most interesting way possible. I strive to make learning interesting with the use of multimedia, co-operative learning techniques, extra out of the text information, etc
My wiki projects
=== My optional community service (learning contract) project ===
| By signing this optional learning contract I will try to complete my training in basic wiki editing skills to achieve the status of a Wikibuddy. In return for this free training opportunity, I will give the gift of knowledge by donating or developing at least one free content resource licensed under a CC-BY-SA or CC-BY license which can be used by myself (and others) on WikiEducator.
| Brief description of project
| <Will provide learning resources in English.>|
| Target date for completion
| <Specify the target date for completion --- you choose the date which can be after the completion of this workshop>.|
Learning resources in English
Running Through The Rain
Have you ever tried running on wet mud after the first rains? How heavenly does it feel to drown in the fragrance of the wet earth after the first rain pour? All kinds of positive and happy emotions jump out in the rainy season. Poets,authors, singers, artists are at their creative best during this season of love and mischief. This is the season when the inner child of every adult doesn't shy away from revealing itself. And I am sure that no one minds running through the rain once in a while. The feeling of getting wet while jumping around care free is an experience in itself.
The ppt explains a beautiful poem on rainy season penned by John Lea..
How helpless would have a man been, had it not been for words? Language, I feel is the very backbone of the existence of mankind. Even though anything that's understood by humans to enable communication is valid, one can't deny the fact that English as an international language is gaining more importance than it already had, day by day. And lack of knowledge in it acts as a disadvantage on the part of the non-user. Realizing this, many schools seem to have indubitably started applying pressure on its usage. A crucial step on this line was undertaken by my school too when I was assigned the task to conduct a Teacher's Training Programme (TTP) based on improvisation of vocabulary. It was a hit and liked by one and all. So I feel that making it public would help others too. The PPT can be found in the link.
A Haiku is a laconic and an interesting form of Japanese poetry. Invented by a well-known Japanese poet ‘Matsuo Basho’, his Haikus were generally based on Zen philosophy that he created during his travels. A Haiku is an epitome of expressing a lot in just a few words. Although it is impossible to single out any established format while writing English Haikus, it has to basically contain 17 syllables arranged in the 5-7-5 format. Here is a very famous translation by Basho –
An old silent pond.
A frog jumps into the pond,
Splash! Silence again.
Another one by Natsume Soseki (considered the Charles Dickens of Japan)-
Over the wintry
forest, winds howl in rage
with no leaves to blow.
As simplistic,short and childish they might seem to a layman, they are very complex in actuality, since one has to express a lot in just a few words. Here are a few Haikus I have written-
♣Why is the strange sky
crystal blue, only when it
is not thundering?
♣In the cold of the
encroaching dawn, the warm light
breaks rudely O so.
♣Two dogs hide in a
broken house, to be driven
out by the huge mice.
♣On a window sill
rests the raven, only to
destroy the calm noon.
Now try creating some yourself. Goodluck!
The Cabalistic Kali
It is indeed conspicuous to note yet again how those eyes first caught me.So black were they, that one could get lost in the depth. I even happened to overlook her entranced dance puppetted by the drum-beating of Goddess Durga. But gradually, it dawned upon me like the fragrance of the incense stick once it has been lighted. The loud clanging of her golden bangles and her anklets as they collided against each other. Her long, unruly hair dancing to the silent tune of the wind. The sword she swayed sporadically revered that inspite of the amateurish, untidy mudras, she still inspired a captivating grace towards herself. This I watched, under the cool shade of the Mango tree in my courtyard, drinking a chilled glass of leechi sherbet oblivious of the scorching afternoon sun of Kolkata. I had managed to steal some time from my rigorous, daily routine as a housewife. In this sleepy colony, my afternoon nap was rudely disrupted by the rare resonance of drum rolls welcoming their three masters - a clan of gypsies disguising themselves as the Hindu Lords.The man was Lord Shiva, the woman - Goddess Durga and the huge black eyes - Goddess Kali. My annoyance was long forgotten when my eyes started devouring the pulchritudinous sight. Lord Shiva with the blue paint coating his body, the peetal ghoongru resting on his ankles and the kohl lining his bhang seduced red eyes. Goddess Durga couldn't have been more than 23. She was so reedy and frail that the weight of the drums she held, made her tilt. My eyes again fell upon those raven balls- summoning me as if they wanted to divulge all the deep, dark secrets she had reserved.On a closer glance her attire seemed intriguingly obnoxious.The golden bangles on her ebony hands. The vermilion smeared on her body to signify the blood that she got on her hands after manslaughtering a demon. The garland of plastic skulls she wore, the sword and the shield she held, made her look all the more intimidating. Her slithery, gleaming, sweaty body seemed to be amusingly dancing to the music of its own. Her red tongue peaking out as if teasing us for some innate reason. From the first look of it, there was a jocular irony in the sight of the Lords entertaining us. But then my thoughts came to a sudden still when I saw her take out a jute whip ,which had all this while been tied around her waist and then.. in a sudden moment of spasmodic climax, started hitting herself. First beat - hard, the next - harder and it went on... becoming harder with every drum beat until none of us could take it any longer. Too gore - I took my eyes off. I timidly looked back again for signs of blood and injury on her tiny body. Found none. Signs of pain in her eyes. None. It pricked me to think that they had something unfathomable in them.Repulsed by this observation and the brutal masochistic dance I went back to my house and resumed my chores. In a few minutes, I was so embroiled in slicing raw mangoes that I put all the thoughts of those intriguing eyes at rest. When suddenly again I was curtly disturbed by a knock at the gate followed by a gruff voice,"Keo acche? Kaaki maa?"(Is anyone there? Elderly mother?). I ran eagerly to the gate and felt a pang of relief to see those eyes back again."Kicchu Chahi?," (What do you want?) I asked. "Kaaki maa, ikto jol khabo," (Kaaki maa,we need some water), said Lord Shiva. I asked them to wait and came back with three glasses of cool leechi sherbet.The black eyes gulped it down as if that was all that mattered to her. I couldn't keep myself from asking her,"Tui kuteikhei aachis?".(Where are you from?). Lord Shiva,"Aamhi Srirampure aachis. Poisa nahi. Seijano aamra aikhane kaachkodi".(We are from Srirampur. We don't have money. So we have come to work here.) I again looked at those black eyes and asked,"Tui school jaas?".(Do you go to school?) For the first time our eyes met and there I encountered some strange expression, not sure whether it was hope or something else.Lord Shiva,"Naa! Poisa naahi." She continued looking at me.I endeavoured to decode, squeeze out as much as I could comprehend but in vain, when again my activity, for the third time was disrupted by the harsh drum beats."Aamhare deri oche. Amhake ghore jethyache,"Said Shiva.(We are getting late. We have to rush home). I looked at the abhorrent man disguised as Lord Shiva and sensed that behind all those layers of paint and kohl was a mean soul. He had neither the aura nor the beauty of the Lord. I asked them to wait and hurried back with a few hundred rupees and asked him to get Kali admitted to the local school nearby that adopted the Sarva Shiksha Abhiyan scheme. I think I saw a cantankerously sinister gleam in his eyes which vanished as soon as it had emerged. He smiled and turned to leave. So did Durga and the cabalistic Kali. But for a moment she waited, looked at me intently again (this time I am sure I caught a bit of hopelessness), bowed her head and turned to leave. And then it became clear. Everything. I saw it - those injuries on her ash laden back and blood oozing out from them ...which were again veiled ,poorly albeit,by ash. She continued walking slowly , fading away gradually like smoke in thin air, leaving me stunned... with the answer that I had suddenly ascertained, her eyes held. And the answer was - 'Grief'.
They were never seen again after that.
When the Doordarshan spewed gold..
Glistening, multicoloured bangles clinging as her hands sway. Dark red bindi on her forehead. Kohl lined eyes accentuated with mean looks. Face covered with glossy make-up as if it's her last day on the planet to look her best.Not to ignore her tacky, heavy saree, of course.Another look and I am not really surprised to notice that the aliens around her are similarly dressed. And yes! Not to forget their docile husbands thrown around at some random corners just for the purpose of show. Am sure the feminists would be delighted to the core.What I still fail to understand is the reason as to why the old lady with threatening eyes is screaming at the young lady. But her nasty looks do convince me that she must have done something terrible to deserve that. After sticking to it for a while I realize that the hag is hyperventilating because the young lady had the insides to study and top her state board exams while her husband is just 6th pass. Later she is thrown out of the house. Ughh! so much for TRP ratings and my patience. What has the world come to? I think miserably and move on to the next channel. "Kya aliens aap ke gai ka doodh pee lete hai? Kya cockroach apke ghar pe kabza karre hai?aisa kyu hota hai jaanne ke liye dekhiye India TV". Good Lord! What did I just encounter?..I wonder exasperatedly. Next. "Beep beep beep.TRP? Beep TRP kon leta hai batata hu tujhe..Beep" The caption says MTV Roadies. I look around to see whether any of my family member is watching this too and quickly change the channel. Amazingly Doordarshan blooms with an enchanting cultural programme on North Eastern India. I watch it and feel enlightened. After having my good mood back.. my mind in a while ,magically time travels to my childhood - the 80s and the 90s. Aha! Nostalgia! It drifts back to the elating days when I as a child would wake up early in the morning , get ready enthusiastically, have breakfast and then sit in front of my vintage, antenna run television which only showed pictures in black and white, with my family members and watch mythological shows like Ramayana, Sri Krishna and Mahabharata.The acting was heartfelt, the actors real and there was a peculiar innocence about the whole show. I felt the same with numerous other shows like the first Indian superhero show which glued many Indians to the idiot box - Shaktiman. Me and my cousins would fight with each other to get the centre position while watching it. Besides this we also enjoyed other shows that were made especially for children like Vikram Betal, Potli Baba ki, He-man , Tarang, Dada Dadi ki kahaniyan, etc. The wow-effect was enhanced by motivational shows like Udaan based on the life of IPS officer Kanchan Choudhary Bhattacharya. It made me always aim high as a kid. How can one forget the amusing, innocent and sweet tales of Swami and his friends related oh so wonderfully by Malgudi day! I am sure that none of us belonging to the Doordarshan era might have missed it. The TV shows today go to the extremes. They either reflect the lives of the lower strata of the society or the higher strata. The middle class if not ignored are portrayed unbelievably with no family values at all.But this was not the case then with realistic shows like Buniyaad, Hum Log, Nukkad, Swabhiman, Junoon, Shanti , etc. They dwelt upon not the cheap kitchen politics but upon the struggles of the common man - the middle class. Besides these,other shows like The Sword of Tipu Sultan, Chandrakanta, Bharat Ek Khoj, Byomkesh Bakshi, Rajani, Barrister Vinod, Chitrahar, Rangoli, Ye jo hai Zindagi need a mention enough as they always were so pleasant to the eyes and the ears. The acting then was so simple nevertheless so real. The stories so exemplary and righteous. The actors looked real enough with limited use of makeup unlike the actors of today who only look plastic. Remember Mandira Bedi from Shanti? Alas,the entry of Ekta Kapoor to the small screen was also the advent of a new era. But everything has its own set of pros and cons, as they say. The emergence of reality shows today has bestowed an opportunity on every common man to get his fifteen minutes of fame. I really admire the concept of Kaun Banega Crorepati where they test the general awareness of the participant. Most of the contestants belong to small towns and villages and struggle their way up with grit, determination, optimism and ambition. They are people who still hold their family values close to their heart. The stories they relate are so heart-touching and inspiring.It was really a motivating treat to watch Sunil Kumar, also an IAS aspirant from a small village in Bihar, who would spend his free time tutoring the children in his village, win the prize money of five crore. The same can also be said about the concept of Masterchef India which is really a boon for the cooking addicts.But shows as such are in minority. Most of the reality shows only aim for high TRPs and the contestants for attention. This makes them perform antics which are not even suitable for one to watch alone, forget watching it together with the family. The same can be said about the other shows. But this was not the case with the old Doordarshan, when other channels didn't exist. If today I am granted the leisure to select between the telivision of today and the Doordarshan of yesterday, I will always vouch for the Doordarshan of yesterday - the Doordarshan of the 80s and the 90s....
A quiz on Noun
A Noun is a name of a person, place, animal or a thing.
Thus Sita, Sitapur, Cheetah and Sitar become Nouns.
Now let's try a simple quiz on the topic.
- That's wonderful start Tripti. You will surely learn as you immerse yourself in this great WE (wikieducator) world.Ms Cynthia. --Agnes 10:38, 10 June 2012 (UTC)
- That was real quick learning Tripti. Your page is looking fabulous. Now concentrate on good content. All the best. Ms Cynthia--Agnes 01:06, 11 June 2012 (UTC)
- Hi Tripti, Warm welcome to the WikiEducator family of educators and learners! Your page is coming up very nice. Keep it up! Regards Anil Prasad 06:48, 11 June 2012 (UTC)
- I am ready to collaborate & we can learn together. My Skype name:devaraj.raju --Devarajraju 03:21, 13 June 2012 (UTC)