Kisholoy February 2021

Digital Kisholoy A monthly magazine of Ananda Mandir youth group

February, 2021

Kisholoy is produced by youth members of Ananda Mandir. The articles, drawing or photographs of this magazine are copyrighted and should not be reproduced in any other forms without the consents of the owners.

We would like to acknowledge the contributions of the followings: Articles: Anooshka Sen, Anirudh Sarkar, Shama Dinesh, Shivan Mukherjee, Drawing: cover - Anooshka Sen (age 8); inside- Charulata Sengupta (age 6)

Editorial: Dipak K. Sarkar, Utpal Sengupta, Sudipta Bhanja Choudhury Magazine Composer: Dipak K. Sarkar For information about the Kisholoy – contact Dipak K. Sarkar via email (Dipakksarkar@hotmail.com).

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Picture gallery

By Charulata Sengupta (age 6)

My father was in America and me and my mom was stuck in India for this COVID - 19. I was very sad and I really missed my dad badly. I was scared as everybody told me Corona virus is very dangerous. No flights were running so I couldn’t come. Corona viruses came between me and my dad and separated us. I was worried about my dad’s health as he was alone and nobody was there to look after him.

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Jupiter – The fifth planet in our Solar System By - Anooshka Sen (age 8) Jupiter is the fifth planet from the Sun, and is positioned between the Asteroid belt and the ring planet Saturn. Jupiter is 473.16 million miles from the Sun and it takes 45 minutes for sunlight to reach Jupiter. Jupiter also marks the starting of the gas giants in our solar system. It is named after the roman god of sky and thunder who is also the king of the Roman Gods.

Jupiter is by far the largest planet in our solar system. Its mass is one thousandth of that of the Sun and it is two and half times the size of rest of the planets in our solar system. It is the brightest object visible since pre-historic times.

Galileo was the first astronomer to observe the planet in detail, including its four major moons.

The composition of Jupiter is somewhat similar to that of the Sun and is made up of mostly Hydrogen and Helium. Unlike the inner planets, Jupiter being a gas giant has no solid surface.

Rather, this giant likely has a dense liquid center of liquid metallic hydrogen, On top of the liquid metallic hydrogen there is a layer of liquid hydrogen, surrounded by a layer of gaseous hydrogen. The outermost layer is made up of dense clouds. Jupiter’s most distinct feature is the band of cloud that encircles the planet. The color of the band of clouds ranges from white, yellow, brown and red. The great red spot on Jupiter is actually a big storm system that has been raging for 300 years. It is so big that it can fit 2 or 3 Earths and has wind speeds of up to 400 mph.

Because of Jupiter’s big size and strong gravity, Jupiter has the biggest family in our solar system. Any asteroid or any inter terrestrial object passing by Jupiter, is pulled by its gravity 4

and starts circling the planet. Jupiter has 79 moons of different sizes circling the planet. Four of the largest moons of Jupiter are IO, Calisto, Ganymede and Europa and were discovered by Galileo. Ganymede is the largest moon in our solar system and is larger than the planet Mercury. Ganymede is almost the size of Mars. IO is the most volcanic in our solar system. Ganymede, Europa and Calisto may contain oceans of liquid water underneath its crust.

Around 4.6 billion years ago, when Jupiter was hotter and bigger than it is today, it was a big bully planet.

Back then things were not same at they look today.

At first Jupiter pulled the smaller objects towards it and smashed them into pieces. Then it started spiraling towards the Sun. But the birth of Saturn, another gas giant, stopped Jupiter’s course towards self-destruction. Saturn gave some balance to the gravity of Jupiter and brought some peace to the solar system. Even today if a terrestrial body passes by Jupiter from the Kuiper belt, Jupiter’s gravity pull it towards itself.

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The End –

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Chingri Macher Malai Curry By - Auroni Sen (age 10) One day, my grandparents decided to ask me if I wanted them to make Chingri Macher Malai Curry. My parents were sitting near me when my grandparents asked me if I wanted them to make it and they smiled. “ What?” I asked them.” That is a very popular dish.” My mom said.” We used to have it all the time when we were kids.” My father agreed. My grandparents started making the curry and soon the house was filled with the delicious aroma of the dish. After we had the curry, I wondered about how it became so popular in India. I'm sure you have all heard about the popular dish called Chingri Macher Malai Curry. It’s a popular bengali dish that was believed to have been brought to the Bay of Bengal by Malaysian sailors. The word ‘Malai’ is actually ‘Mallay’ which means Malaysian. The word ‘ Malai’ in Hindi, means ‘ Milk cream’ , but the dish doesn’t have milk cream in it. The dish is a Bengali curry made from shrimp and coconut milk and flavored with spices. The dish is not only popular in West Bengal, but 5

it was also very popular among the British because of their ancestral connections with Calcutta. People usually make it for weddings and for celebrations or when guests come over. Some people make the dish with cashewnut paste. Some people make it with tomatoes,too, or mustard paste, raisin paste, and ghee. Most people have rice with this dish . The standard recipe for Chingri Macher Malai Curry is this: • • • • • • • • • • • •

400 gms prawns 3 tbsp mustard oil 1/2 tbsp whole cumin 2 tbsp ginger paste 2 tsp cumin powder 1 tsp chilli powder 1 tsp turmeric powder to taste salt 2 tsp sugar 1 tsp garam masala 1 1/4 cup coconut milk 2 tsp ghee

How to Make Chingri Malai Curry 1. Blanch the prawns in turmeric water.

2. Heat mustard oil in a pan and add sugar and whole cumin.

3. Add ginger paste, cumin powder, red chilli powder and turmeric powder and sauté 4. Now add the prawns and slit green chillies and stir for few minutes.

5. Add the coconut milk, cook for few more minutes and then add salt.

6. In the end sprinkle garam masala and ghee on top and serve. ( Recipe from: Chingri Malai Curry Recipe by Avijit Ghosh - The Oberoi)

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You must be wondering why an 11 year old is writing about cooking and recipes rather than science projects. Well I do think I will be able to cook and I like the aromas when my mother cooks in the kitchen especially when we are expecting guests. My parents still do not trust me to be safe near the fire, therefore my cooking skills will have to simmer on the back burner for a future date that will hopefully come soon.

I recently bought a kid's cook book from Barnes and Noble which has recipes that do not need use of a stove. I have tried some of those recipes and they turned out quite nice.

- The End –

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Darcy Botts And the Missing Scrapbook By - Anshini Ghoshal Biswas (age 11) It was a chilly October day at Lake back Middle school. Everyone was coming in and unpacking their backpacks like they usually do. Except today was slightly different.

Today was Ms. Ford’s birthday. For the students, Ms. Ford is the best teacher ever, so it was important for them that they do something special for her birthday. In Ms. Ford’s class, everyone was listening and participating like they normally do, but on top of the mind, they were all waiting for the moment to celebrate Ms. Ford’s birthday. Class time flew by and before they knew it was time for lunch.

At lunch Darcy, Tanya, Jade, and a few other students sat together in the cafeteria.

“When do you want to give Ms. Ford her birthday card?” Amelia asked while eating her sandwich.

“We give her a birthday card every year,” Tanya said. “Let’s do something else this year.”

“Like what?” Darcy asked while eating her pizza. It was Friday, the day they served Darcy’s favorite lunch, cheese pizza.

“Anything better than a card with all of our names signed” Tanya replied.

“You’re right,” Luke said. “Ms. Ford is so nice; she definitely deserves more than a card.”

“So, what do you want to give her?” Billie asked.

“I have an Idea!” Jade said eagerly.

“What is it?!” Darcy asked excitedly.

“How about we make Ms. Ford a scrapbook!” Jade suggested.

“That’s a great idea! But making a scrapbook will take us time, I don’t think we will finish it today.” Luke looked excited but a little unsure.

“Okay how about we give her the card today and give her the scrapbook tomorrow,” Jade suggested.

“Ok!” Everyone said excitedly.

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, During recess, everyone got colorful paper from the activity table and helped make the scrapbook. It took time and it was kind of messy, but they kept pushing through.

Everyone cut out mini shapes of paper and wrote a sweet message to Ms. Ford. Some people went back to the classroom and got pictures of the class with Ms. Ford and then glued them into the scrapbook.

After some time passed by Billie announced “Guys, it’s the end of recess.”

“But we didn’t finish.” Nikki exclaimed.

“It’s okay! We have more time! Let us finish it throughout the rest of the day. We are going to give the scrapbook to Ms. Ford tomorrow anyway!” Jade said.

“Ok!” Everyone said.

Everyone went back to the classroom and sat down. They all tried their best to work on the scrapbook at random times while still paying attention to Ms. Ford. It was tough and they were dropping loose strands of paper everywhere!

As everyone put their finishing touches on the scrapbook it was time for art class.

After the art class when they came back to their class Ms. Ford said, “You all can take a five-minute break,” Everyone sat down and started talking to each other in a low voice. Amelia stuck her hand inside her desk to pull out the scrapbook. But when she did that she got shocked.

She did not find the scrapbook inside her desk!

“The scrapbook isn’t in here!” Amelia whispered to Darcy in a panicked voice.

“What do you mean it isn’t in there?” Darcy whispered back anxiously.

“It just disappeared!”

“Okay let’s look for it together.”

“Ms. Ford, can I help Amelia clean her desk?” Darcy asked. She could not tell the truth that she was really going to help Amelia look for the scrapbook, as the scrapbook was a surprise birthday gift to Ms. Ford.

“Of course,” Ms. Ford said.

Darcy helped Amelia clean her desk in search of the scrapbook. But they couldn't find it.

“Ms. Ford, Amelia can’t find one of her belongings, can I help her look for it?” Darcy said again.

“That would be a good idea, how about we all help her look for it.” Ms. Ford said.

“What does it look like?”

“It is a small paper book, and it has a lot of glitter and other decorations on the cover,” Amelia explained.

“Okay!” Ms. Ford said.

Everyone got up and began looking for the scrapbook. They looked everywhere but they still could not find the scrapbook. Amelia felt really bad. Everyone worked so hard so she felt terribly sad that she lost it.

“Can I check the hallways with Amelia in case she dropped it there?” Darcy asked Ms. Ford’s permission to step out of the class.

“Yes, that would be a good idea,” Ms. Ford said.

They both went outside of the classroom and into the hallways. They gradually walked and watched closely for the scrapbook but all they saw was a janitor walk by.

“Wait!” Darcy stopped Amelia.

“What,” Amelia asked.

“Come with me,” Darcy said.

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Darcy walked back into the classroom and Amelia followed her. She went over to the trash and she stuck her hand in. When she took it out, she had the scrapbook!

“But... how did you know it would be in there?” Amelia asked, surprised.

“Well, I thought about it, that it went missing when none of us were in the classroom. Which meant that a student must not have taken it. Then when Amelia and I were walking in the hallways, I saw the janitor. He was going back to the Janitors closet which meant that he must’ve already cleaned all of the classes. Then I thought the janitor might have found the scrapbook lying on the floor and looking at it he probably thought it was just some scrap paper. It was indeed made of scrap papers. So, he probably didn’t realize it was meant to give to someone as a gift. So, he threw it out.”

“That makes sense.” Luke agreed.

“Thank God you found it, Darcy. I was feeling so bad, I thought all our efforts went to waste.”

Darcy smiled at her and then looked at everyone. “Alright, who else has to do their part for the scrapbook?”

“I think we are finished,” Luke said.

“We might as well give it to her now, “ Jade suggested.

Everyone agreed and approached Ms. Ford.

“Ms. Ford, we made this scrapbook for your birthday,” jade said “We hope you like it!” Tanya said.

Ms. Ford looked happy and surprised as she didn't expect it. She flipped through a few pages.

“I remember that day!” Ms. Ford said while looking at one of the pictures.

“That was on the first day of school!” She said again with a smile while looking at another picture.

“I love it so much!” she said. “Thank you all. You just made my day!”

She gave everyone a tight hug and said, “This is the best birthday ever.”

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The End –

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The Boy By - Ruhani Sarkar (age 12) “Do you love me?” Boy asked while finishing the boring tasteless sandwich in the morning.

“SORRY. I - AM- NOT- PRO- GRAMMED- FOR- THAT,” said Bleep in a sharp monotone voice.

“Oh, yes!!! I know, Bleep. That is what you are programmed to say.” “ THANK - YOU.” “Ughh. Always the same answer. These robots are so stupid. ‘Sorry I am not 9

programmed for that,’ ” mimicked Boy. The empty cup, saucer and dishes clattered as Bleep collected them and whirred away to the kitchen.

Boy looked at his mother’s photograph hanging on the wall. The last time he heard, “I love you” was three years back when his mother took her last breath. That was also the last time someone called him William.

For Robo Island he was just “BOY”.

Boy once asked his mom, “ Why don’t you program them to call me by my name?”

Mom said, “Let’s keep it simple for them. They will get confused otherwise.”

Boy’s mother, Professor Deborah Spencer, was a famous scientist known for inventing the first humanoid robots. The island was filled with robots of all sizes, small, medium, large, extra large. She cut all contacts with friends and family, and came to a remote island to concentrate on her work on Artificial Intelligence. Her creation were humanoid robots and her son- Boy. Boy was the only human on Robo Island after his mother passed away. He cried every night, because he missed his mother and was tired of seeing dumb robots all the time.

He had everything a child could want. But, what he didn’t have was a family, a loving mom or dad, a human touch. His life was perfect. But he didn’t want a perfect life, he just wanted a normal human life. He missed his darling mother and missed going out with her. He did not even understand how she expired. On the dreaded morning, three years back, his mother was found lifeless in her lab. It was too much for a seven year old. There was no one to hold his tender hands. There were robots everywhere, none of them consoled him. Professor Spencer did not expect this to happen. Her machines were not programmed to handle that.

There were pictures of them taken on the beautiful beach, photos of him as a baby, his mother cuddling him tightly. He tried discussing about his mom to Bleep and Blorp, but they had no emotions or feelings. They didn’t remember the love that their creator gave them.

Boy came out of his room and went to the beach where he and his mom used to play.

He remembered her trying to lure him to the water, and how she used to pick him up. He looked at the endless horizon where the rising sun cast a rosy hue across the morning sky. Boy sat under the huge palm tree and it immediately embraced him with a cool breeze. This was the only place where Boy came whenever he felt sad. The palm tree probably remembered his mother and always tried to console him with its rustling leaves. As he sat under it, he could feel its gentle air touched his cheek which made him remember his mother's goodnight kiss. Boy's eyes welled up with tears as he recalled the sweet memories that ended too soon.

“I have to do something,” said Boy, “ I can't live like this. I need to go to the human 10

world where kids play with kids, not with machines, where people laugh, and where people cry. Maybe, Blorp can help. It is loaded with millions of information.”

Boy rushed back straight to Blorp. "

Hey Blorp, how are you doing buddy?” Boy asked.

"

I - AM - GOOD. THANK -YOU,” replied Blorp.

"

Did Professor Spencer upload her contact information in you?”

‘“SHE - DID - BOY.” “Excellent,” Boy’s eyes glittered with hope.

“Show me your contacts,” Boy asked Blorp.

“SORRY. I - HAD- TOO - MANY - iNFORMATIONS. CONTACTS - HAD -BEEN PERMA-NENTLY- DELETED- A- MONTH- AGO - DUE - TO - LOW -STORAGE.” “What! After all these, you don’t have storage. Wonderful, just wonderful,” Boy replied with a tone of despair as his hope shattered into million pieces.

He needed a new plan. He went to the beach again to cool himself down and surfed for a gazillion years. Time slowed down as he was riding waves. He was on flow. With every crushing wave, Boy’s mind soothed down.

"Focus, focus, only focus." Boy encouraged himself as he was scanning the waves for horizon.

As his body gave up, a totally exhausted Boy slumped down on the beach. The smell of the warm ocean breeze and the soft sand refreshed him.

“Oh! what’s that?” Boy exclaimed as a shiny huge parabolic object popped up from the glistening sand.

Boy had no idea what it could be. There was only one robot, the youngest one, who could scan and identify it.

It happened to be a satellite disc. Boy researched and researched. Then, he set the satellite on the biggest pole he could find in the center of the island. He figured out how to connect the million wires from the satellite to the main power. This took a month.

“This should work. Uhh! let's just wait until years to come to find out that it was all for nothing,” Boy sighed as he looked at it.

The satellite was on, and it was standing there for at least two months. Then, a miracle 11

happened.

One morning, Boy woke up with the much awaited sweetest sound he ever heard.

“Beep….beep...beep…..”

The satellite gave a beeping sound.

Boy rushed to the main lab to see what was happening.

“The satellite is working! I don't believe it! It is happening. It works!” Boy exclaimed. “ Hello, can you hear me?” Boy was panting with excitement. “ Yes, I can hear you. What’s your name, son?” A manly voice filled up the room.

Then, there was an awkward silence. It was the first time Boy head a human voice other than his mom's Tears rolled down his eyes. He couldn’t speak.

“Can you hear me, son? What’s your name?” The voice asked.

“I ..uh... am… Boy,” Boy stuttered and fumbled.

“No no no, sorry, William..uh.. Spencer. My mom...uh...Professor Deborah Spencer.”

“The missing professor? The missing scientist Deborah Spencer? What..What..? You gotta be kidding, child,’’ the awestruck man asked unbelievably.

“Yeah..uh.. I believe that is her. But.. she is no more. Please help me.. Get me away..Away from this island,” Boy said, “ Please, please, please.”

“Sure, I have your position. We are going to get you very soon,” the voice died down.

He knew they were coming for him, and he just needed to wait for a while.

Next day, he heard the whirring sound of a helicopter. Boy sprinted out of the building as fast as a flash of light. First, he couldn’t believe his own eyes.

“Are they real? Am I day dreaming?” Boy whispered to himself as two men got out from the helicopter of homeland security and approached him.

“Mr. William Spencer, we are here to take you out from this Robo Island,” one of the men assured Boy. Mr Smith, the elderly officer, said, “We have contacted your grandma in Texas, she is waiting for you. The National Department of Science and Technology will be here soon to take care of the robots.”

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Boy took some time to come out of the state of euphoria. Then he said, “Just a moment, I need to say goodbye to someone.”

Boy ran as fast as he could and stopped near the palm tree. He hugged it and kissed for the last time. With tearful eyes Boy said, “ Good bye, my friend.”

As Boy approached the helicopter, he turned back and saw the huge lab and shelter where he spent ten years of his life, where he spent the most memorable moments with his loving mother for years. The beach, the palm tree, Bleep, Blorp, everything came in front of his eyes in a flash as he went aboard.

He asked the officers, “Can I come to visit this island?”

“Sure you can, son,” replied Mr Smith.

The helicopter took off, as Boy saw the Robo Island vanishing behind the clouds. A whole human world was waiting for the ten year old wide eyed boy to embrace him with love and compassion.

- The End –

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Isolation

By - Sayan Shuvra Chakraborty (Dittu) (age 14) I sit by the window and stare To whatever is happening out there I wish I was a part of it This much I will admit But here I am in isolation Waiting for the end of this situation Aimlessly staring out into the distance Wondering when I can offer assistance As we all do Until then I sit by the window and stare To whatever is happening out there -

The End – 13

Blood To Oil By - Swayam Shuvra Chakraborty (Bittu) (age 17) What am I? Crimson Lethally typed, combinations differentiating between styles, tastes of myself I live in your body but not in your heart You need me, for without me, you remain cold, lifeless What am I? Blood, I smile at the book. Words, riddles I’ve read hundreds of thousands of times.

Since birth. The old book has survived centuries, in its worn out binding and yellowed pages. We are temporary, but words are forever. Is that how the quote went? Well, if they were here, they would see how wrong that really is. Humans are forever, not by choice, not by wish, but by curse. Not being able to die is a fate worse than death itself.

Words have become temporary, each book, each written letter infinite, beautiful, expensive. In a world where money needs to be conserved, not for normal purposes, food, water, all of it is given to us. The money is for blood, for body, organs and skin.

My birthday was yesterday, that means my days at the factory will start soon. My father came by to visit me on my birthday, his legs filled not with blood, but with oil, his skin replaced with metal. He was ancient, stopped counting after his heart was changed to iron. I’m the youngest of his children. My mother still has her right eye, her left is no longer filled with the blue iris it once was, now it is grey, the iris changed into a black camera lens. Her fingers have started to decay, I think she might be able to afford a replacement that isn’t steel, if she can get human fingers, they may last. This is what she tells herself. Soon I’ll be working at the factory. I will be making the same parts that will be given to the poor, will be given to prevent death. I will have a hand in changing blood into oil. Changing life into metal. A statue of humanity, broken and replaced.

Fixed, over and over again. A Japanese plate filled with more gold than pottery.

Weighed down by a lack of humanity. When does a person cease to be a person?

When they lose their life? When they lose their morals? Their conscience? No, because those that live now don’t have any of that. A person ceases to be a person when their blood becomes oil. When their decaying body isn’t laid to rest, but changed into metal.

Money is the only god because immortality hasn’t made us gods. It’s made us monsters. I pray for money, so that I may have blood for as long as possible.

What am I? A fountain of black Limitless in worth but disgusting in taste Coveted and now feared I have become the new blood of humanity What Am I? Oil, I smile, maybe a new riddle should be added to my book. I pick up my pen, write it in, and walk into the factory to clock my hours.

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FADING By - Shama Dinesh (age 20) I wonder if dying hurts Will my breathing turn shallow and painful Or will it pass in a sigh, unheard amidst the breezy twilight Will my arms ache and feel heavy; Will I shut my eyes as I drift into sleep?

Is death what I imagine it to be, Or is something simpler, or much worse?

I wonder if I will have anyone by my side As I fade into the unknown alone Will my lifeless body be welcomed with tears afresh Or will it decay underneath an unmarked grave?

Will I be remembered for who I was and what I did?

Or will I be resented for being a foe, a villainess in someone's life?

I wonder if I have a chance to be reborn A possibility to live another life free of regrets Or do I pass on to nothingness, the empty; Forced to tread alone within the void?

But perhaps death will not be the end I imagine For it might be an eternity, yet the one I desire An eternity of euphoria, basking in the warmth of serenity For death remains no longer a mystery -

The End –

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