Kisholoy - February 2023

DigitalKisholoy

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Kisholoy is produced by the 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:

Drawing: cover - Sharanya Mukherjee (age 12)

Articles: Anooshka Sen, Tiyasha Sarkar, Shama Dinesh

Drawing: Anooshka Sen, Asha Kuriyan, Ashish Kuriyan, Charulata Sengupta, Saranya Naik-Zaveri,

Editors: Dipak K. Sarkar and Utpal Sengupta

Magazine Composer: Dipak K. Sarkar

For information about the Kisholoy – contact Dipak K. Sarkar via email (Dipakksarkar@hotmail.com).

Anooshka Sen (age 8)

Asha Kuriyan (age 8). Landscape using oil pastel, water-colors and oil paint.

Still life

Saranya Naik-Zaveri (age 9).

Charulata Sengupta (age 8)

Ashish Kuriyan (age 6). Drawing of a sun rising over green hills.

Tom Riddle

Anooshka Sen (age 8)

Have you ever read the Harry Potter series? Then you might know who Voldemort is, otherwise known as “You-know-who”, “He-whomust-not-be-named”, Tom Riddle (Lord Voldemort’s original name), Lord Voldemort or Dark Lord. For those who don’t know who Voldemort is, he is the villain in the Harry Potter series who is desperately trying to kill Harry. Voldemort in French means “Fight of death”. Tom Marovolo Riddle is an anagram of I am Lord Voldemort.

Voldemort was born as Tom Riddle. His parents were Tom Riddle and Merope Gaunt. Merope Gaunt was a pureblood (meaning full magical blood) and a descendent of Salizar Slytherin, one of the founders of the magical school of Hogwarts. Being a descendent of Salizar Slytherin, she could speak parseltongue (language of the snakes). Tom riddle was a muggle (non-magical people). Merope fell in love with him and put him under a love potion. They got married and soon after she gave Birth to Tom Mavolo Riddle (Voldemort). However soon after, his father left him and his mother passed away.

Tom was raised in a muggle orphanage. There he bullied and scared other children. Once on a field trip he took two children into a cave and turned them into inferi (reanimated dead bodies). One day Albus Dumbledore came to the orphanage to talk about the wizarding world and Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry. Young Tom was fascinated by it and soon started attending school at Hogwarts.

At Hogwarts during his sixth year, Tom opened the chamber of secrets and accused Rubeus Hagrid of opening it. Hagrid, later on, became the Magical Creatures Teacher at Hogwarts. Tom was always curious about dark magic. He

had a life goal of becoming immortal and asked the potion master about Horcruxes (an object that can contain a piece of your soul). He asked the potion master about splitting one’s soul into seven parts and the potion master told him everything he knew about Horcruxes. Later on Tom hid parts of his soul in his mother’s locket, his grandfather’s ring, his diary, his snake, Hufflepuff’s cup, Rowena Ravenclaw’s diadem and Harry Potter. Soon Tom came up with a new name, a name that witches and wizards would one day fear to speak with and that name was Lord Voldemort.

This is Tom Riddle’s early life. In my next piece we will find out how Tom evolved into becoming Voldemort and about his conflicts with Harry Potter.

Pandemic Days

Tiyasha Sarkar (age 17)

No more social gatherings. No more seeing the union of two people in love. No more attending quinceañeras and watching a young girl turn into a woman. No more dancing on the dance floor until feet get sore. No more in-person Thanksgiving parties filled with the smell of turkey and Indian delicacies. No more seeing people dressed in sarees and suits waiting in line for their turn to get food. No more hearing elders encouraging students to study hard for a strong future. No more Christmas parties and unwrapping gifts as a huge family. No more joint families. No more consoling hugs from aunts and uncles who care about the authenticity of the hug rather than the illusion of love.

No more seeing football and baseball stadiums filled with people cheering their teams and booing the competition. No more distinction between home and vacation. No more exhilarating evenings in the Big Apple. No more rushing around the bustling streets of New York City to catch a subway. No more rushing into New York City with the hopes of watching Hamilton in theater. No more seeing the beautifully lit-up skyline of the city that never sleeps. No more marching through the streets of Time Square to get to a “Nutz 4 Nutz” stall on the other end. No more people crammed behind fences in Time Square when the ball signals the arrival of the New Year.

No more air travel. No more getting excited to go on a 14-hour journey back home. No more getting on board and fighting with parents for the perfect seat: the window seat from which you can see the amazing castles created by the clouds and watch as the sun paints the sky with its breathtaking rainbow-colored rays. No more staring at the Sierra Nevada from high up in the sky. No more stalking people’s backyards and counting how many pools they have from thirty thousand feet in the sky. No more observing cities lit up in the night. No more staring down at the black abyss that separates me from my home. No more getting awoken by an air-hostess offering me the option of veg, non-veg, or continental for dinner. No more binge-watching old television shows without the fear of being judged by other people’s gazes.

No more hiding from social media. No more hiding in society and constructing a fake persona for the web. No more having the option of chatting face to face without screens dividing. No more seeing the smiles of my classmates after hearing my obnoxious jokes. No more seeing the smiles of the extended family after a long time. No more going to school and walking beside friends. No more celebrating birthdays and hearing the celebratory cheers of loved ones. No more hearing the five-year-old in the backyard squealing in delight after learning he has a piñata filled with candy for his birthday. No more hearing the laser beam sound from laser tag guns at every early teenager's birthday party. No more laughing at inside jokes with friends after eating too many scoops of ice cream. No more having embarrassing trips and falls and getting laughed at by friends.

No more falling in love with new places, people, and things. No more being able to stop for a “quick minute” without wearing PPE. No more leaving the house without gloves. No more leaving the house without a mouth guard, preventing one from seeing faces. No more distinguishable representations of happiness…smiles.

No more “living” in those melancholic pandemic days. Now, we spend time “remembering” them.

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Invisible

By: Shama Dinesh (age 21)

The walls seem to harden quickly and grow

As I step out of the shadows bespeckled with sorrow

The unseen bricks seem to lock me inside A cage I can't escape, with locks that couldn't be pried

My voice stays hushed through unending screams

The unbearable silence slipped through my dreams

Desperate, I run alongside these invisible walls

I remain unseen and lifeless like old, broken dolls

I strike at the dome caging me, locking me away forever I won't stop if I cut and bleed, breathless, I shall wander My skin turns raw from the pain, my tears won't stop running

If I die today, then so shall it be, but it won't be till I am breathing

My voice sounds hoarse, my throat turns dry

I am too desperate to give up, too tired to try My life remains meaningless, my existence erased

The darkness seems to welcome my soul to be embraced

You erase me every step of the way You wash my existence away I wish to remain a candle burning bright But you snuffed out this glowing light

It wouldn't matter if I don't live another day It won't be sad if I don't see the sunset anyway It is pointless to remain when you have nothing more to say It may be better if I'm gone, but it'll have to wait one more day

I don't want to leave unheard, swallowed by the endless deafening silence I don't want to disappear unseen, engulfed by memories intense I don't want to be another toy for everyone to play I don't want to be invisible for another second of this day