The meaning of "beauty"

I chose to write this article because I remember Kumud ma'am saying that the media was totally changing the meaning of the word "beauty".
How many of you spend hours to put on make up and look good? How many of you feel bad because you aren't as good looking as others? How many of you aren't very confident about your body and appearance? As all of us are teenagers here, these thoughts are quite common to us. The teenage life is totally different from what it used to be before the invention of "smartphones". Why? Because be it boredom, celebration or anything else, a "selfie" is a must! 
In our beauty-obsessed culture, every time we open a magazine or turn on the television, we see how far we are from all those actors and models on screen. Why do we do that? Why do we want to compare ourselves from someone who we don't even know personally? Why do we judge ourselves? Even though the society tells us that we're no longer relevant, why is there a need for us to stop feeling beautiful and care-free? Simply put, we are obsessed with beauty and appearance.
But what if true beauty were defined by who we are rather than how we look? And what if we joyfully embrace it everyday? What if it was okay to have flaws and be less-than-perfect?
What I think is, the focus should be removed from our faces and bodies. Instead, all of us should start focusing on our hearts and allow the light in our hearts to shine. I believe each and every person is beautiful. You are beautiful. :)

-Ashika
XII Tulip

A DAY IN THE MONTH OF IPL

A DAY IN THE MONTH OF IPL

Kasturi Villa. An, old, not-so-happening, 4 storied residential building next to our 18 storied king-sized tower, is hardly given any importance by passers-by. On a usual, working day the windows of my bedroom struggle to find any signs of human inhabitance in this creation of mankind. Some days would bring forth a violent scenario where two men could be seen clutching each others’ collars fighting over petty issues.

Similar such day was expected on the nineteenth of May. I was woken up at 8:00 am. No, no I am not the kind of early birds who go for a walk conscious of shedding weight. It was the chattering of people. I slid apart the curtains and glanced down. Some 20-25 people were standing in a circle in the small complex of this building. Now, you must understand that I didn’t reach that stage of consciousness to be able to make sense out of things.

I ran my hand through the side table and found my specs. Each person bore an expression of extreme importance. Hustle, bustle, energy and enthusiasm similar to what one may find only during Ganesh Chaturthi. Chairs could be seen lining up behind one another and tables battled for space trying to look presentable. A stool with music player on top seemed to enjoy the kind of publicity it got from the children.

The sun departed disappointed as it couldn’t understand what the folks were up to. A projector was set up in front of the chairs. Well, at 8, the dull grey screen turned into a young, well-trimmed, lawn with commentators bringing in the winds of their opinion into the jam-packed stadium. MI vs.CSK. Our little audience was sure who was going to win the match.

They cheered at the sixes and wickets. The otherwise fuming faces could be seen hugging each other. The music system had its own way of cheering by playing the “Duniya hila denge” tune. Though I was just a silent spectator gazing at the joyous fest, I wondered how many such Kasturi Villas had this IPL united.

Dancing, cheering on top of their voices and biting their nails, these people weren’t the same as before. IPL is not just Indian Premiere League where new players shoot up to fame; it has become a celebration, a way of life for the common man. Kids ensure that their homework is completed, mothers keep the dinner ready and office-goers reach home on time. What a feeling of pride to say “kal apni team kya kheli, yaar!!”

And now that Mumbai has secured a place in the finals, we Mumbaikars have all the more reason to be proud! After a brief struggle with the RCB, Chennai Super Kings has emerged as the other finalist and I’m sure it’s going to be an interesting clash.

Well, it turns out that it will be blue seas v/s yellow sands and vada pav v/s dosa!! So, as the rosogullas witness this event live, grab your pack of popcorn and book tomrrow’s evening for Siddhu’s sher-o-shayari, the dancing crowds and ofcourse, that glittering IPL trophy....

May the best team win!!!!!!!!!!!

Why over think when you can mind map instead?

You know when someone says something that resonates with you to your very core? It can be a passing comment, a token of advice or just a statement, but it stays with you long past that person’s presence? Well, someone once told me that overthinking is “the only thing that makes it a thing is that you keep thinking about it.” It was a simple phrase, one that doesn’t seem to have much weight to it, but it changed everything for me.

That phrase is one of those special tokens of wisdom that went on to define the way I looked at life. To this day, I find myself repeating it whenever something goes wrong, whenever my mind has a moment to delve into the back hole of regrets and disappointments.

1. Here are a few tips for you to overcome that habit:       It is very easy to fall into the trap of overthinking minor things in life. So when you are thinking and thinking about something ask yourself: Will this matter in 5 years? Or even in 5 weeks.
2.  Learn to become better at making decisions and to spring into action by setting deadlines in your daily life. No matter if it is a small or bigger decision.
3. Find ways to spend more of your time with the people and sources that have a positive effect on your thinking and influence less on your overthinking habit.

In the end, there's really just one process for overcoming things like this. Identify the problem you're having and practice noticing when it's happening to you, learn to let go and STAY POSITIVE!

Srishti Garg

XII-LILY

Dancing Lights:P

Shutter speed- too slow, even I was about to fall, and I clicked these......makes me feel dizzy...!!!!

 I love this one...

Here, I've messed up with my position and proper exposure, but even then its fine....good!!

The Photosphere

                                               Photosphere

                                         Alibaug

When The Child You're Meant To Have Is Already Out There( DO READ:))

Swati Thiyagarajan(A columnist, a senior special correspondent with NDTV)

 I never played with dolls. I played house, had little toy vessels and a stove and so on, but no dolls. I liked mixing and making things in that dollhouse's kitchen but never wanted to feed those meals to a doll, a pretend baby. I always had the hugest soft spot for baby animals. To date, there is not one that I see that I don't want to take home - except for the human baby.

When I was 16, a memorable conversation with girlfriends in boarding school went somewhat like this. "Wow, in a month we will all graduate, and not see each other everyday anymore". "So, what do you think you want to do? You know, with life. Imagine who we will be in ten years if we meet then." All the girls said they would have strong careers, definitely get married; everyone said they wanted kids. I was on board with the careers and the marriage, but stuttered to a halt on the kids. "You don't want kids?" "No, I don't". I was told I would change my mind. I never did.

For the record, I like kids. They are great. They are also hard work, dedication and sacrifice. I always had a certain vision of my life. Animals figured predominantly, a husband less predominantly, and a child not at all. Could I have articulated why I didn't want kids at 16? Can I articulate it any better now? All I can say is that I just knew I did not want to have children. For the many zillion times I have been told I will regret it when I am older, all I can say is that, no I won't, and in any case, it's not like my life is without kids. Nieces, nephews, children of friends, they are all in my life, and I love them all dearly. I am a great aunt - really kickass. The kids love me and I love them. I will baby sit happily on holidays for long shifts all in the glorious knowledge that I will eventually be handing them back. Plus, I grew up with friends and family including my own dad who were adopted, and so never saw the difference between a biological child and an adopted one. A parent is a parent when the child is of the heart - that is the only biology that counts.

So there I was firmly in the "No kids, please" column - a pretty good reason for why I did not date much or have too many relationships, as most of the guys wanted marriage and kids. Perhaps if I had met someone I had loved immensely in my early 20s, I might have succumbed and had children. I did not, and at 43, I have no regrets. In fact, I shudder lightly when I think I might have done so, and how different my life as I know it now would be. In my 20s, I had all the time to focus on things I really loved like dance, learning and reporting the environment, travel, living in a foreign country on my own. I enjoyed relationships that did not end in marriage and the fact that I could devote my time to friends and family. In my 30s, I focused so much more on my career, on the environment, on animals and everything else I mentioned above. My time was mine, my decisions, mine. My sleep, my waking, my books, my food, all mine, mine, mine.

I have been told that one has to be entirely selfless to have kids. I think this is true. I don't think one loses one's self-identity with a child, not at all. You can be a strong independent happy person and a parent. Absolutely. That person just was not me. So, yes, you can call it a selfish decision to not produce a child. I would like to think it's a selfish and informed one. Worse to have children and then ignore them. Worst to regret it.

I have in my late 30s been asked politely, but asked all the same, if I had or have a biological problem that keeps me from motherhood. I don't know - I never checked because I didn't care. I have watched all sorts of parenting. These days there seem to be exotic labels like "Tiger Mom", "elephant parenting", "raising the parent not the child" and so on and so forth. I see some of my friends as parents bloom and thrive and others driven to the brink of nervous breakdowns. I know I drove my own parents crazy for a long time (more respect to them).

In the animal kingdom, I have seen mothers struggle with their kids. A tigress with four cubs, trying to feed them all, protect them all. Going hungry herself, having to fight off any male who is not the father. Penguins who have to alternate over which parent goes to sea for food, the other staying behind to look after the eggs, then the chick. The emperor penguin father who stands in sub-zero Antarctic temperatures holding the egg on his feet, settling his warm underbelly feathers over the egg to keep it safe while the mother is off surfing the oceans for food. Elephant mothers who are pregnant for 22 months! Believe me when I say I understand parenting, and don't want anything to do with it.

Then I met Craig who I would marry. I was rather firm on the fact that I did not want children, and he rather firmly agreed, since he already had a child from his first marriage. So off we embarked on our wedded journey.



And there he was, Craig's five-year-old. He climbed his father like a tree, and buried his face in his father's shoulder when I first met him. I am used to baby animals: they like space, are suspicious by nature of anything but their parent because that's just plain survival, and they like to approach you in their own time. So, that logic is the one I applied. I mean that's really what I knew, so I used it. Of course I was not above bribes, so I had come armed with many presents. Like bits of choice food one would hold out to baby animals. That broke the first barrier. The greater step would be in getting him to like me and trust me and I gave him lots of space to do so. I did not step into his special space with his father. Being divorced, Craig got him for the weekends. I waited to be invited into that space by him, not Craig. I always let him know that his father loved him best and most. I also became really good friends with his mother, a lovely woman who helped ease me into my new role in our son's life.

I first stepped in as his friend, then as an aunt, and slowly over the years, as his mother. I can tell you that it helps enormously that I don't 24/7 as a parent. I know his dad and his mom feel the same. 24/7, 365 parenting is exhausting, wonderful and exhilarating, I am sure, but I can get wiped out after a weekend! Plus as he was five when I came into his life - so I also missed those intensely serious years of parenting (when I say missed, I mean physically not emotionally).

Slowly, we got used to each other. I would be the one he would want dinner from, I was the one he would wake up when he had his growing pains so I could run hot water over his legs, I would be the one he would cuddle with and I was the one who taught him to read. Today he is 13, and we both love winter, hot chocolate, a roaring fire and a good book. That's the me in him I like to think. Not DNA, but love. Today he calls me "mum" and "Swati". He freely tells me he loves me and I have an equation with him that has nothing to do with his dad and other mum. He fills my heart and has made me recognize a part of myself that's interesting. I might not have wanted to be a parent, but given this opportunity, I am a good one.



So, sometimes one does not want kids, one does track a biological clock, and one does not give birth, but this is because the kid that one is meant to have is already out there!

So, for those women who always wanted kids and have them, good for you. To those ladies who wanted them and could not for various reasons and adopted, good for you . For those who did not want and do not want kids, good for you too. And for those whose kids are pure serendipity, well, welcome to the club - you just gotta love the universe!

(Swati Thiyagarajan is a senior special correspondent with NDTV)

The opinions expressed within this article are the personal opinions of the author. The facts and opinions appearing in the article do not reflect the views of NDTV and NDTV does not assume any responsibility or liability for the same.

 

When You Have A Mouse In Your House...

3rd day of May 2015, Sunday night.

 

I came home from a long, lazy dinner at Tawa with cousins. The trash bins were open in the society afflicted with as bad a smell I ever smelled. We ran into the lift but the odor had left us tongue-out-of-mouth. We watched the T.V. for a while and slumbered off on the sofa. My sister, being scrupulous, waked my brother and me up and directed our way into the bedroom.

A sudden thirst clenched me. In a sluggish manner, I drank plenty of cold water from the fridge. In the darkness, I saw the kitchen platform as I drank, a cute round beetroot stared at me—I smiled back at it. In a blink, it disappeared—I thought……nothing. As I resumed my way, I heard some rattle in the fridge, I stopped—some more cute chik-chik kinda sound— I, being in the dream of cheering Rohit Sharma, became fully aware and had an urge to look in the fridge. I opened it deftly. Due to bright light, I could see some round shape. I said to myself,”Ooohh!!! Prachi, tis the beetroot, nothing else.” 

 

  Slowly, I realized the beetroot had a very long tapering root, two big leaves at its top….. ”Aaaaaaaaarrrrrrr…” The beetroot threw the hollow tomato at me, jumped over me as I ducked and hid somewhere.  By this time, I must have awakened the whole society. In a flash, the house became well-lit and my parents and cousins rushed with horrified, aghast faces with deep Vs on their foreheads. I, the fool, shouted again seeing them with such expressions. I ran and climbed the sofa, others stood confused.

 I said,”bbbbeetroot…..beetrat…huh?....rat!!!”

“What, Rat!!” yelled my cousin sister, brother and mother in unison and came towards the sofa.

My father never misses such chances where he can flaunt his courage, especially when others in the family back out. 

He said, “I see… where it is—the creature—it cannot run away from me…”

He, at once, took the broom and set in the kitchen—filled with utensils—all alone.

Here, we three looked at each other. The people outside were furious.  We could hear their chatter. One of them rang our bell. Startled by the sound, the mouse came from under the computer table and went behind the wooden case.

We told my father that the mouse has come into the drawing room. He smashed at some vessel and the jingle and ringing of the steel vessels echoed in the silence. The mouse quickly came and hid under the book shelf. ….So, there were two of them—the tenacious, obdurate, senseless, fanatic creatures.

My parents apologized the neighbors and told what had ensued. They went to their home—sweet home, having no rats. My father again took to the broom and did some weird things like making us jump so that the mice can come out, or taking a big utensil and using it as a trap or shaking the book shelf.

My sister went and opened the balcony door so that we can put the mice out anyhow.

I took the hit spray and my brother brought a fresh tomato. I sprayed it nicely on the tomato with an evil smile on my face. My mother brought some biscuits and bread pieces. We respectfully offered these with the tomato in the center of the plate and biscuits decorated in a circle around it.

We waited for an hour in my parents’ room and about 3:00 am, we woke up.

We saw that the biscuits and bread was eaten but the tomato was left unharmed. The direction of the crumbs and their little footprints were in the way of the balcony.

So it could be said that they were out of the house.

 

Next morning, I learnt that the two boys staying in the room very next to ours, did not even get up during the incident that happened that early morning. I wondered what these lazy boys would do if there was some fire or some earthquake….or if the two mice were dancing over them in the night and partying in their house.

The two came to us in the afternoon and said, “There were two squeaky mice in our house this morning while we’re getting ready for college. They ate our sandwiches…..”

BAL BHARATI PUBLIC SCHOOL NAVI MUMBAI

MASS MEDIA STUDIES

WORKSHEET

CLASS – XII

Q1. Define Media Literacy.

Q2. Discuss, Life without media is unthinkable.’

Q3. Discuss briefly how media plays the role of a socialiser with the help of examples.

Q4. What do you know about net neutrality?

Q5. Mention the main forms of media.

Q6. Write the salient features of:

i.                    Hypodermic Theory

ii.                  Uses and gratification Model

Q7. Write about two stereotypes that we see in popular Indian films?

Q8. What is Mise-en-scene?

Q9. Define Nonfiction films.

Q10. Films are difficult to explain but easy to understand’. Discuss.

Q11. Write three points of difference between cinema and TV.

Q12. How did the name soap opera originate?

Q13. Comment on the reality shows that appear on TV.

Q14. In what way does TRP affect the storyline of a television serial?

Welcome Note

                                              

 WELCOME TO THE BLOG

Dear all
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Have a relaxing summer vacation.