Think-Tank

• Why do the signs that say”Slow Children” have a picture of a running child?

• Why the time of day with the lowest traffic is called ‘Rush hour’?

• If you shouldn’t drink and drive, why do bar’s have parking lots?

• Why is it that night falls but day breaks?

• You know how most packages say “Open here.” What is the protocol if the packages say’s “Open somewhere else” ?

• If a book about failures doesn’t sell, is it a success?

Article by: Rini Ephrem, St.Teresa’s College

Joan of Arc

Joan of Arc

My favorite hero and life model is Joan of Arc. She was born at Domremy in France in 1412. Like most peasants of her time, she never learned to read and write. She grew up as a devout Catholic under the strong influence of her deeply religious mother.

By the age of 13, Joan had strange visions of saints speaking to her. The English were the rulers in Paris then. They controlled the northern part of France. In the southern part of France where Joan lived, the French people recognized young king Charles VII as their ruler. Charles was not a crowned king because the city of Reims, where French kings were crowned, lay in enemy territory. So the king lived in the city of Orleans.

The voices of saints that Joan heard, informed her that God had chosen her to help King Charles drive the English from the French soil. She met the king at the age of 17. The king at first did not believe in her visions and spiritual powers. He tested her many times. Once he slipped into the ranks of his courtiers and let one of his nobles occupy the throne. Joan, however, was not deceived and quickly identified Charles as her king. Even the Charles was doubtful. But when she told him exactly what he asked of God when he prayed alone, he realized that she possessed unusual powers. Then Charles gave her armor, a banner and the command of troops.

Joan led the French army and defeated the English who laid siege to Orleans. Henceforth she was referred to as the maid of Orleans. She led the French to victory in four battles. Joan entered the city of Reims and stood beside Charles when he was crowned as king on July 17, 1429. After the coronation, Joan became anxious to free Paris from the English control. In September 1429 she was wounded in a minor battle near Paris.

In May 1430 she was captured by the enemy. The English tried her on charges of witchcraft and heresy. A tribunal of the clergy sentenced her to death. Joan was burned at the stake before a large crowd in Rouen on May 30, 1431. Because heretics could not receive a Christian burial, Joan’s ashes were thrown into River Seine. She was declared a saint by Pope Benedict XV in 1920.

I admire her and suggest her as the best model for the present youth because she is like Jesus in so many ways. Like Jesus, who was a son of a village carpenter, she was the child of humble and poor farmer. Like Jesus, an illiterate who revealed his spiritual insights at the age of 12 while he argued with religious Jewish scholars in the temple at Jerusalem, she exhibited spiritual insights and heavenly knowledge at the age of 13. Like Jesus, who proclaimed that he had the mission to establish God’s kingdom on earth, she proclaimed that God had given her the mission to reclaim France from the English for the French. Like Jesus, who courageously fought to fulfill the mission? God had given her. Like Jesus, who was called a blasphemer and an enemy of God, she was called a witch and a heretic by the religious leaders of her day. Like Jesus, who was crucified for proclaiming the truth, she was burned at the stake for abiding by the revelations God gave her. Like Jesus, who rose from the dead after 3 days, she who judged a sinner by the Church was declared a saint, by the same Church. Like Jesus, she is one of those visionaries who preached and stood for values and truths and whom the religious leaders of the day fail to understand. With Jesus she suffered to fulfill God’s will.

Article by: Ann Mary, St. Teresa’s College

Which is worse? Tsunami or The people who take Advantage of it

Which is worse? Tsunami or The people who take Advantage of it

By now, there wouldn’t be anyone who doesn’t know about the Tsunami that struck South and South East Asia during the x’mas of 2004. About 2, 00,000 people lost their lives and an almost equal number was left homeless and injured. This number is only an estimate given by the media, and it is said that in Srilanka and Indonesia, people have stopped keeping count of the dead bodies they get each day.

It is true that what has happened is utterly gruesome, but it is much more heart breaking to think of what happens after a tragedy. There is aid pouring in from all parts of the country and abroad too, but only a third of it is being properly used for the welfare of the victims. We hear of survivors telling stories about the MLAS or the authorities reaching the affected villages only after two or three days of the tragedy. Nobody would say it on T.V. but then it is understood that a percentage of the aid would definitely end up in the pockets of the local politicians.

Remember the fall of sad dam’s regime in 2002 and BBC showed footage of local gangsters looting the government offices and palaces and running away with equipments, furniture and even shoes. It was a similar case in the coastal regions of Srilanka and Tamilnadu where youngsters took advantage of the absence of people in damaged homes and left off with truck loads of household appliances, clothes and money. I guess they would even sell these things at a higher price to the victims themselves. It is an even sadder story of those orphaned children, just recovering from the trauma of the incident to realize that they have no one to look after them. The ones who benefit out of this are the middlemen, who in the name of ‘helping’ them, literally take these kids and sell them to other states for begging and prostitution. While we sit in the comfort of our homes, hundreds of children are sent in trains and trucks in order to earn a livelihood. Not that this practice is new; but think of a bunch of miscreants taking advantage of homeless kids just because they have no one to speak for them.

In the wake of any tragedy like this, let us not ask ourselves why or how it happened; rather ask what we can do for what happened.

Article by: Shana Ninan St.Teresa’s College

SMILE LOST IN ENGULFED LOVE

SMILE LOST IN ENGULFED LOVE

It was 7:15 in the morning. As usual, I was amidst the usual hurry-scurry of going to school. “Bye ma…” I quickened my pace to the bus stop, waving hands to my mom. Maya and Meera were coming from the other side, with their chotta bundle of clothes. “Going to the river?” I passed the usual casual question, as I ran. “Ya, why, coming with me?” I loved this hearty invitation of hers. “I’ll, later… but bye for now…” I said, gazing into Maya’s wide and watery eyes. I heard the blaring of the bus horns and ran faster, waving her bye.

Is she a ‘jalakanya’ or what? I always used to ask myself… remembering her constant interaction with water… Whenever I saw her, she seemed always engaged in something related with water-like washing, fetching water and the like.

I woke up from my thoughts as I saw that the bus was fast approaching our school bus stop.

“Water, water, everywhere; not a drop to drink…” As our teacher Dr. Mathew Joseph recited this poem immersing us in its complete mood, I thought of Maya again. The various objects and characters in the poem-the ship, the sailor, and the albatross-all took suitable positions in my reverie centering on Maya. I saw the sailors trapped in her watery eyes. To my surprise, I saw the albatross, which resembled Maya some way!!

When priya- the girl who sits beside me poked me back to senses, I saw Mathew sir smiling at me. The whole class was now very alert with the giggling that ensued. Waves of laughter rippled in the class room as I saw Mathew sir in a wind-stricken ship.

Bidding ‘bye’ to a ‘river going’ Maya was my daily routine. Those eyes of hers never ceased asking “coming with me…” and I was never bored of this query… One day I must go along with her and see what’s the immense joy that she gets from her involvement with water that makes her invite me too, I thought. I began waiting eagerly for a suitable day.

One morning, I was surprised to see no sign of the usual ‘river-going’ Maya… I felt a bit upset. I yearned to see her ‘cloth-bearing’ figure with the ‘coming-with-me?’ invitation. As I walked forward with slight desperation, I saw Meera, coming quickly from the other side. ‘Hey where is Maya?’ I asked her. “She went early today, but that too without taking the soap bar and powder… wretched girl! As soon as the dawn cracked, piled up her clothes and ran to the river as if eloping with her lover…” She waved me bye and I too waved, mechanically.

Something that brightened up my day every morning was obviously absent. The whole day was like a salt less dish. As I was walking home from the bus stop, I could sense some anguish in the atmosphere around. It was evident from the cloudy faces of the familiar figures. “That river was notorious for killing people in a tricky way, since time immemorial”.

I heard this from an old man and the chattering all around echoed words like ‘drowned’ ‘girl’, ‘morning’s small bundle of clothes’’ poor young thing’… Something flashed through my mind with lightening speed! A trifle perplexed, my anxiety came out… “Who is drowned?” I asked a small group. “A girl named Maya.’

Maya…???Which Maya…???It won’t be ‘my Maya’…God, it shouldn’t be… but… I saw a crying Meera at a distance! And so it might be… I was sure…!! She has eloped with her lover…

As we had exams the next day, I was forced to stay at home with my lessons, trying to forget the tragedy….

Half mindedly, with horrible mental trauma, I opened my book. This is what I read: ‘the river curled along like a lot of snakes…The gate burst flat against her and knocked her breath away…’

Unable to bear the coincidence, I closed the book heavily and wept in silence…I heard Maya calling me from eternity…”Coming with me…?”

Article by: Deepa Soman,St.Teresa’s College

MAXIM GORKY A TALE

When the man heard that some people had come to a place about three days away from his village, and had used machines to plough up a huge piece of land that had never been plough before, and had used other machines to sow seeds there, then the man thought that these were people just as ancient as himself, only more stupid. There was a thousand- year old soul living in his ancient body, and he knew that the grief and the joy of all people on the steppe lands was to plough their soil, so their seeds, and to gather their harvest; and anything else people did might just as well not be done. The land gives birth to a man to work on it, and when the man has worked to the end of his strength, and then the land swallows up his flesh and his bones. In the summer, the burning sun drifts slowly over the land and the hot wind files along after it from the east, scorching the crops and the grass, and drying a man with sadness and the fear of hunger. Only rarely does the wind bring black clouds over the steppe to water the land with rain and then the man’s soul rejoices for he will have a good harvest. In the winter, the sun rushes quickly across the sky: then a cold and piercing wind blows across the steppe, rustling and whistling over the land, sowing the snow thinly on the ground and in the night it sings the same song over and over again. “The sun comes up, goes down but the land is here forever”. “A race grows up, dies out but the land is here forever”. The man never thought about the hard, annihilating meaning of this song because he knew is meaning only too well. He thought about his cattle, his home and his harvest, he sometimes thought about his wife: but he always thought about things that were his, and hardly ever about himself. He was certain that there was no machine which could overcome the forces of heat and cold, and that no machine could change the course of evil winds. From time immemorial this man was accustomed to living in the hope of help from God, from the high priests and sorcerers, living without faith in the power of his own mind he placed his hope in the secret forces outside man. When it was time together in his crops, he –this wild man of the steppe- collected his meager harvest and went to watch the newcomers using machines to do their harvesting perhaps he would have a chance to laugh at them. He was broad-shouldered and short- legged, wearing heavy boots and a thick caftan the colour of the dust on the road, he stood in the middle or the steppe as though carved out of stone, and his grey, bearded face was also like stone. Between his beard and the cap pulled low over his brows, his bark eyes- the mirror of his soul- shone out sullenly, mistrustfully. His hairy nostrils were breathing evenly, stirring his grey moustache. He watched the newcomers bustling about a structure that was little like a machine, it was more like a strange animal that you might see in your dreams, its long neck had no head, and its tail was all made of knives and grew out of the side of its hug, ungainly body. And its body itself was quite grotesque, as though it had already been crumbled and broken by the steppe winds. It was hard to see how this monster o wood and iron might work, how the people could control its power. The people were so young. They moved quickly, but not as though they were rushing their work. If this machine were to fall over, then it could crush at least five of them. “What’s it called?” I asked the man. “Get out of the way,” came the answer; but he did not move from the spot. Trembling and snorting to the side of the monster or in front of it there was an iron bear on wheels, and astride the bear was a young lad without a moustache, a mere boy this lad’s jacket was covered an oil and seemed to be made of roofing iron. He nudged his machine with his legs and turned the wheel: the wide rims of the iron wheel also turned, the huge machine jerked, began to clatter and moved off across the dry earth, sweeping together the ears of corn with its tail, seizing them with its dozens of thin iron fingers that looked like nails. The ears of corn flew over the machine’s tail and some where into its side, the machine shook and bellowed in its greed as it gulped them down and out of the three spouts of its split neck came the straw, the chaff and the dust. The man stood looking after it his mouth opened and closed, and his beard shook, he seemed to be shouting. Straw was pouring on to his head and shoulders and was flying into his face and his beard he gave a jerk, prodded the earth with his stick, shrugged his shoulders and straightened the knapsack on his back. Then, as though he were tearning himself out of the ground; he began running heavily after the combed, waving his stick the knapsack on his back was jumping as though driving him on. He wasn’t alone as he ran there were other people running with him, but he obviously wanted to run all around the machine, he over took the others but he did not reach the machine, and he stumbled. But he still seemed to be shouting. He finally caught up with the combine when it started moving more slowly, he caught it up and at the risk of falling under the knives of the mover, he started jumping heavily alongside it. A tall man pushed him away. “Devil,” he said hoarsely, wiping the sweat from his face with a hand that was like an iron paw. The combine stopped. The man ran to the sleeve from where a thick stream of grain flowed into a sack placed under neath it, he thrust his cupped hands into the golden stream and scooped out some grain. He lifted his hands to his face, bent hi taut and dusty neck, and stood looking at the grain for a few seconds. Then he showed the grain to the people around him and said in a hoarse voice, panting for breath. “It’s real…. The devils Eh?” Standing next to him were others like him, but young, they were regarding the machine just as fascinated, but they seemed to be afraid and envious of it. Then old man threw the grain into the sack and straight away thrust his and back under the stream, grabbed a handful of grain and hid it carefully in the pocket of his caftan. Two or three others bid the same. One of them said with a sigh. “Very Clever” You won’t keep up with it, said another and a third added gloomily: “Don’t suppose we could” A few more indeterminate words were spoken, but not one of them showed any sign of joy. Pride and joy could be heard only in the words of the people who were explaining the internal construction of the machine how it worked. “You still need us peasants to work it” someone said thoughtfully. “Of course. You need experience on the land…” They consoled each other, and then walked away from the workers of the new farm, only the old man with the broad shoulders and short legs stayed behind. He picked up his stick from the earth and wiped it on the hem of his caftan as though it were a sword. Then he shook the straw out of his beard with his fingers and began to walk slowly round the machine. He brobed at it with his hands and his eyes, he knocked at it lightly with his stick, he stopped several times deep in thought and then walked on again shaking his head and then straightening his cap. His stone like face seemed to become wider maybe he was clenching his teeth? Ovens he stood in the crowd at a public meeting, and he listened to the speeches, leaning on his stick with both hands, his head bowed. Once or twice he scraped the ground at his feed with his stick, feeling at it, as though he were testing whether it was the same soil as it had always been. The workers of the new farm received awards, those of them who had worked the hardest in the new field. When the award-winners were given their prizes, the old man looked at them intently, shading his eyes with his hand. One of the award-winners was argil who drove a tractor. “Girls as well,” said the old man to his neighbor. Then he grinned and added; “That’s to keep them coming to work here”. He went away shortly after, walking with his even tread, and after every third step he would pry the ground without looking around. Perhaps his thousand-year-old soul obedient to the forces of nature was deeply moved. Or maybe he was thinking enviously of how the new comers were able to overcome the hot, dry wind which scorched the crops to death, and were able to beat the frost which killed the seeds in the ground

Article By: A Student Of  St.Alberts College

Living a Dream

I came to know about MAD from a friend and what pushed me to join were the three words: “Teach Orphan Children” Little did I know that it was only a gist of what MAD is about. MAD stands for Make A Difference and it is a youth based volunteer network that teaches English to orphan kids around the city. And St.Teresa’s College is apart of this organization. The first orientation meeting was at the Avenue Centre. I didn’t know what to expect. They gave us an insight into the classes, the challenges we would have to face, and what was expected of a MAD volunteer. It inspired me to serve the society.

The MAD group is like a family and everybody is lively and vibrant. And not a moment goes by without a few jokes. We have mock classes where we experiment with the different ways of teaching among ourselves, using the games and activities invented by the MAD volunteers themselves. MAD has given me a different social circle all together. In addition it has given me the experience and exposure of working in an organization. MAD brought out my creativity and taught me the lessons of teamwork. The meetings also taught me to speak up and voice my opinions. MAD has helped me grow a great deal from being somebody who had trouble getting started.

The classes are the best part of MAD. I teach the 6th grade. Along with teaching them English, my role as their mentor is to motivate them to learn and inspire them to be somebody in life. I have learnt to be consisted and committed, which is not so difficult because I love my students. The little angels give me a lot to take back from every class. They have given me a dfferent perpective of life. Their eyes portray their innocence, some showing happiness, and some conveying grief. I realize too, how much they all care for one another. The classes bring me peace of mind and a great sense of satisfaction. It was always my childhood dream to be a teacher and spend time with small kids. MAD has helped me realize this dream.

Article By: Hana Masood, St.Teresa’s College

Social Work @ St.Albert’s College- SENTINAL

Social Work @ St.Albert’s College-

 

 

Commerce Department, St.Albert’s College, Ernakulam

My Plus Two Tour

Tired of the long lectures and busy schedules back at school, we a group of friends decided to go for a trip to the beautiful Mysore.

After our exams, the much awaited day arrived .On April 10th 2008, we got on to the bus from a common boarding point and we started our journey with a silent prayer. Since it was night time, we could see only the illuminated roads and highways. We were all in a mood to see a film, so we decided to play a movie inside the bus.

Next day, early morning, we reached our destination. We had already reserved rooms in the hotel and after refreshing our self, we had our breakfast. Then we set out for sight seeing. We reached the beautiful Brindhavan gardens and seeing the enchanting beauty of the place, our hearts filled with joy and we all became refreshed. We took many photographs. Since we were all tired, we thought of having our snacks. After getting out from the place, we visited the Mysore Government Museum. Then, we had our lunch from a hotel and our next destination was the zoo. We could see different types of birds and beasts all over the globe from far and near places and we could enjoy them from a close up distance with no fear of danger to us. By the time, we got out from the zoo; it was almost 5’o clock in the evening. We all decided to go for shopping and we bought many things. We even did quite a lot of window shopping too. It was fun to bargain with the roadside vendors and we were all very successful in our mission. We reached back at our hotel by 9’o clock having our dinner. It was a tiring day, so we were all fast asleep.

Next day, after our breakfast, we started our journey again. We visited the Chamudashwari temple and the St.Philomina Church. After that, the whole party of us hired a boat and we set out for boating .We had lots of fun. Some of us even tried horse riding that was really adventures. We visited the Tomb of Tippu Sultan and we were all astonished by the silence and peace filled inside.

After spending sometime over there, we had our lunch and from the hotel we decided to visit the Mysore Palace at night. Soon after our lunch we returned to our hotel and we had lots of fun since we had bought a deck of cards. We played cards and didn’t know how the time flew. Some of us took a little nap and in the evening, we walked along the cool lanes, with dusk setting over the meadows and the hills standing black again at the lighter evening that was an admirable way of passing the event. When it was quiet dark, we decided to visit the magnificent Mysore Palace and we were astonished to see the palace, fully illuminated with light and it was a beautiful sight. We admired the beauty of the palace for a long time and decided to leave.

We went back to the hotel and packed our luggage, it was quite heavy, since we had done too much of shopping. Next day we were leaving to Bangalore, and then we had a good night’s sleep. We got up early in the morning and completed the formalities in the hotel and left for the garden city of India. We were all very thrilled. We reached quite fast, since it was not very far from Mysore. We left our luggage in the bus itself, since we were leaving on the same evening. We visited beautiful place like the Lal Bagh Botanical garden, Hesarghatta Lake, Chamaraja Sagar Reservoir, Cnbbon Park. We even did some shopping from Bangalore too, since Bangalore is Famous for its quality goods at reasonable price. That evening, we left the place, even throw we did not want to.

Altogether, we had a wonderful time and arrived home the next day, brown and as fit as fiddles.

Article by: Amala Rose,Mary Matha E.M.H.S.S

Inventions-Telephone(Alexander Graham Bell)

Inventions-Telephone

(Alexander Graham Bell)

The telephone is an instrument enabling us to converse with a person at a great distance. The word telephone is derived from two Greek terms –Tele meaning ‘At a distance’, and phone meaning ‘Sound’. In the language of saence, telephone is an arrangement to convert sound waves to electrical waves and then to convert electrical waves to sound waves again. Nowadays Telephone has become one of the important means of communication. People from near and far communicate through this instrument.

Scientists had started attempts at broadcasting the human voice as far back as in the 1800’s.It was Sir Charles Wheatstone himself, one of the inventors of the telegraph, who had initiated this search. During the course of his search, he developed the enchanted lyre, an instrument that could broadcast music from one room to another.

In those times, persons travelling in ships and trains are seated at a distance, used to talk through certain tube like device. Children of those times used to talk with each other through two tins tied at the opposite ends of a thread. Children in our countryside might have engaged in such recreations. These reference indicate that broadcast of the human voice was not a novel idea. On the contrary, the challenge faced by scientists was to invent an instrument capable of broadcast.

Alexander Graham Bell of Scotland researched on how sound could be transmitted and received. He had researched for long on the telegraph, and it was not surprising that he thought of using electricity as the conducting force of sound had struck his mind.

In fact, Bell had invented the telephone during the course of his attempts to modify the telegraph. When he started his researches for telephone in the 1870’s, nearly 30years had passed after telegraph had taken roots in society. Then, the mores code consisting of dots and dashes was the basis of telegraph. For telegraph, there was heavy loss of time for decoding the message, besides the demand for service of experts for decoding or translating. In addition, the telegraph had not the capacity of exchanging so many messages simultaneously.

Bell, in joint efforts with Thomas Watson, tried to transmit sound with the help of electricity. He had clearly understood how the human ear identified sounds, and in 1874,he explain the working principle of the telephone. In 1875, Bell and Watson jointly developed an instrument that could transmit sound. They found that variation in sound effected corresponding variations in the electric flow was developed. So they began their attempts to devise such an arrangement.

On 10th march 1876, Bell and Watson invented telephone. Earlier Telephones could be used only for exchanging conversation between people in adjacent rooms. Continued experiments by Bell and Watson enabled the distance to be enhanced by miles. In 1877, telephone wires extending up to distances of 3 miles were set up.

During 1876 – 77, some professors who conducted research in the Brown University jointly produced a telephone of a smaller size. In1877, the Bell Telephone Company was established for industrial manufacture of telephones. In 1878 the first telephone exchanges come into existence. In 1879 telephone subscribers started to be allotted 5 -digits numbers.

The field of telephones subsequently witnessed unforeseen development. Mobile cellular phones have become very common today. Besides, the videophone system, enabling the persons at both ends to see each other on a screen and to talk has become a reality.

Article By: Remya Krishnan,St.Peter’s College

Invention-Microphone(Emile Berliner)

Invention-Microphone

(Emile Berliner)

Microphone is an instrument that can convert sound waves into electric waves. It was the development and modification of telephones that led to the invention of microphone. Although Graham Bell has invented the telephone, the need for suitable device for receiving and converting sound waves into electric wave’s arised.

It was then Emile Berliner, a German who came to Bell’s help in this field. In 1876, Berliner presented bell with the first microphone that could be attached to the telephone. Microphones have the ability to convert sound waves into electric waves instantaneously .This conversion is carried out by diaphragm that is fixed with the microphone.

Even though microphones were originally built to be attached to telephones, their subsequent development was beyond the imagination of Bell on Berliner. Microphones as we see them today are the result of the modification done on them by David Edwards Hugnes, a British man. In 1878, he made the first carbon microphone, which is considered to be the predecessor of the modern microphone.

Gradually, microphones established its supremacy in the field of communication. It first entered the realm of radio transmission. With the arrival of television, microphones came to occupy a prominent place there as well. Today Microphones are used in a wide range of equipment, ranging from the minute hearing aids used by the deaf, to powerful computers .No other device has yet been invented that can form a substitute for mike. All research work done in the field are currently aimed at improving the power and efficiency of the existing microphone.

Article By: Remya Krishnan,St.Peter’s College