Readers’ Club Bulletin...Bhavnagar Zilla Prathmik Siksha Sangh, the district level teachers’...

Readers’ Club BulletinikBd eap cqysfVu

Vol. 18, No. 9, September 2013 o"kZ 18] vad 9] flrEcj 2013

Editor / laikndManas Ranjan Mahapatraekul jatu egkik=k

Assistant Editors / lgk;d laikndx.kDeepak Kumar Guptanhid dqekj xqIrk

Surekha Sachdevalqjs[kk lpnso

Production Officer / mRiknu vf/dkjhNarender KumarujsUæ dqekj

Illustrator / fp=kdkjMistunee Chowdhuryfe"rquh pkS/qjhPrinted and published by Mr. Satish Kumar, JointDirector (Production), National Book Trust, India,Nehru Bhawan 5, Institutional Area, Phase-II,Vasant Kunj, New Delhi-110070Printed at Pushpak Press Pvt, Ltd. 203-204, DSIDCShed, Ph-I Okhla Ind. Area, New Delhi.

Typeset at Nath Graphics, 1/21, Sarvapriya Vihar,New Delhi-110016

Editorial Address / laikndh; irkNational Centre for Children’s Literature, National Book Trust, India, Nehru Bhawan 5, InstitutionalArea, Phase - II, Vasant Kunj, New Delhi-110070

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E-Mail (bZ&esy ) : [email protected] Copy/ ,d izfr Rs. 5.00 Annual subscription/okf"kZd xzkgdh : Rs. 50.00Please send your subscription in favour of National Book Trust, India.d`i;k Hkqxrku us'kuy cqd VªLV] bafM;k ds uke HkstsaAThis Bulletin is meant for free distribution to Readers’ Clubs associated with National Centre for Children’sLiterature.;g cqysfVu jk"Vªh; cky lkfgR; dasnzz ls tqM+s ikBd eapksa dks fu%'kqYd forfjr fd;k tkrk gSA

Contents/lwph

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Take Care! Jessie Wee 5

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The Old Woman Devina Basu 13

Grandmother Hemant Kumar 16

ykyph gyokbZ ehrk laxsfy;k¡ 17

pViVs ngh&cM+s vfuy ^losjk* 20

A Foolish King Prabir Kumar Pal 21

Two Poems Dash Benhur 22

tc rktegy uhyke--- vaoqQ'k tSu 23

'ksj dh nkor iwue feJk 25

Dehradun 2025 Kartik Dhiman 26

igsfy;k¡ y{eh [kUuk ^lqeu* 27

The Portrait Darshil Shastri 28

tkuoj lEHkkysa /kxk&oSaQph vkboj ;wf'k,y 29

Interesting Facts... Surekha Sachdeva 30

Readers’ Club Bulletin September 2013 / 1

The National Centre for Children’sLiterature (NCCL) of National Book Trust,India in association with India TradePromotion Organisation and Federation ofIndian Publishers organized an interactivediscussion on the topic Tales for Today’sChildren: Connecting to the Roots duringDelhi Book Fair 2013 at Pragati Maidan,New Delhi on 29 August 2013. Dr SharbariBanerjee, musicologist from NCERT andShri Rajendra Upadhyaya, author andbroadcaster from the News ServicesDivision, All India Radio were the keyspeakers on the occasion. Shri M.A.Sikandar, Director, NBT, presided over thefunction.

Shri Sikandar in his introductory notewelcomed the guests and observed thatchildren today are trying to identify theirroots and therefore, they use internet togather information. But they are not awarethat internet does not provide completeinformation what a book can. Therefore,there is a need to guide them through booksin different Indian languages. He addedthat languages are important as they arepart of our tradition and culture. He askedchildren to visit libraries to gain knowledgeon the larger world.

Dr Sharbari Banerjee felt that childrenshould read more and more books aseducation helps in building character andopinions. She felt that fantasy books,action tales, books about the greatrevolutionaries and great emperors of India

Tales for Today’s Children: Connecting to the Roots

help children to rediscover and connect totheir roots.

Shri Rajendra Upadhyaya in his papertitled Popcorn Zaroori Ya Kitaab?discussed about children’s literature andreading habits of children in India atpresent. He observed that, “to know moreabout culture we need good books. We alsoneed to tell children about our culture andliterature.”

This interactive discussion was part ofthe NCCL’s Monthly Meeting Programme.Renowned authors and educationists likeShri Divik Ramesh, Shri Prempal Sharma,Shri Lakshmi Khanna ‘Suman’, ShriRajnikant Shukla, Shri Ajay Vir, Prof.Chandrabhanu Pattnaik, Shri Satya Paul,Smt. Prem Dhingra, Smt. Kumud Kapoor,teachers, librarians and children fromvarious schools of Delhi also participatedin the discussion. The programme wascoordinated by Shri Manas RanjanMahapatra, Editor (NCCL).

2 / flrEcj 2013 ikBd eap cqysfVu

With a view to promote pleasure reading habitamong children and strengthen the cause ofchildren’s literature, two orientationprogrammes for teachers on How to Run aReaders’ Club were organized by NationalCentre for Children’s Literature, a wing ofNational Book Trust, India at Kharagpur(West Bengal) and Bhavnagar (Gujarat) in themonth of July 2013.

The Readers’ Club Orientation atKharagpur was held at the South EasternRailway Girls Sr. Secondary School on 18-19 July 2013. Shri R.K. Kulshrestha, DivisionRailway Manager inaugurated this 2-dayevent along with an exhibition of NBT’s booksfor children. Shri Prempal Sharma, ExecutiveDirector, Railway Board, Shri Manoj Panday,Chief Personnel Officer and several dignitariesfrom the Ministry of Railways graced thesession.

The 2-day event was attended by theteachers, principals and librarians of over 30

Readers’ Club Orientations

schools under South Eastern Railways. Theparticipants discussed about the changingtrends and dimensions of reading, creativewriting, storytelling skills, how to decide abook for children’s pleasure reading and howto hold interactive session with authors andpeople connected with the world of reading.With the resource support from Dr. KripaSankar Chaubey and Smt. SailabalaMahapatra eminent authors and educationist,Smt Karabi Mukhopadhyay, Principaland Shri Manas Ranjan Mahapatra,Editor, NBT-NCCL coordinated the event.

Bhavnagar Zilla Prathmik Siksha Sangh,the district level teachers’ body of Bhavnagar,Gujarat collaborated with the Trust for theReaders’ Club orientation for teachers atBhavnagar on 23 July 2013. Over 100teachers and teacher educators attended theprogramme.

The event was inaugurated by Dr NalinPandit, Former Director, GCERT. Theparticipants were briefed by the resourcepersons about various means and modes fordeveloping joyful reading atmosphere forchildren. With the resource support from ShriParikshit Jushi, eminent journalist andeducational activist and the various officebearers of the teacher’s body, the event wascoordinated by Shri Bhagyendra Patel,Gujarati Language editor of the Trust.


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Take Care!Jessie Wee

From NBT’s Treasure Trove

“Look out for traffic! Be careful! Don’tfall into the drain!”

“Oh, Mum! I’m only going to theshop to buy you a loaf of bread. Theway you’re going on, the neighbours willthink I’m cycling all the way to London!You know there’s very little traffic onour quiet estate roads … and anyway, thedrains are not even big enough for meto fall into!”

Shen’s mother sighed as she wavedhim away. Then as he cycled out of thegate, she called after him, “ Look outfor cars! Be careful! Take care!”

Shaking his head, Shen cycled pasttheir row of terrace houses, turned leftinto a back lane and right again to theestate bakery. It was hardly a minute’sride away. What could happen to himduring such a short trip? His mother wasmaking a big fuss over nothing! Takecare, indeed! She really was something!

Shen sighed, left his bicycle on theroad and walked up a flight of stepstowards the bakery. He bought a loaf ofbread after arguing with the baker’s boyover the shrinking size of the loaf andthe extra ten cents he had to pay for it.

He was very angry when he left theshop. He was so angry he did not noticea van pulling up outside the bakery. Twomen jumped out of the van and pushedhim back into the bakery. One manpointed a gun at his head.

“Keep quiet if you don’t want a holeright through your head!” the gunmangrowled.

The other man ran into the shop andheld a dagger under the chin of thebaker’s boy. The boy turned as white asthe slices of bread he had been cutting.His knees shook and his teeth chattered.


“Give me the keys to the till! Hurryup or I’ll Hurry up or I’ll slit your throatfrom ear to ear!”

The gunman pushed Shen up againstthe counter, next to the baker’s boy whowas struggling to get the keys out of hispocket. The boy’s hands shook so muchthat the keys fell with a loud clang atShen’s feet.

Shen held his breath as the gunmanbent down to snatch up the keys. Shouldhe kick the gun out of the man’s hand?What if the gun went off? What if hewas not fast enough? No, the risk wastoo great.

“Here quick! Empty the till!” criedthe gunman as he threw the keys to hisfriend. The gunman’s friend shoved thebaker’s boy towards Shen, unlocked thetill and crammed all the money into hispocket.

Shen recoiled as the baker’s boycollapsed into his arms, knocking his loafof bread out of his hand. The loaf of breadfell on the floor.

“Hey! What’s going on in here! Whoare you two men?” shouted the baker. Hehad just come out from a room at the backof the shop.

BANG! went the gun as the startledgunman pressed the trigger. The bulletslammed into the floor near Shen’s feet.His loaf of bread jumped up into the air

as the bullet went through it.

Shen and the baker’s boy jumpedwith fright.

The baker fled back into the roomthe slammed the door shut.

The gunman and his friend ran outof the shop, jumped into the van, reversedit, knocked down Shen’s bicycle, ran overits front wheel and then moved off like astreak of lightning.

Shen gasped. Stunned, he watchedthe van race down the road and disappearround a bend. He bent to pick up hisloaf of bread, turned, and ran out of theshop. He wouldn’t stay there a minutelonger than was necessary. Nothing likethis had ever happened to him before!His own mother had warned him aboutthe traffic, the drain and about not fallingoff his bicycle, but this was somethingelse!

He ran to his bicycle and then gavean angry yell when he saw his flattenedwheel. The van had run over it. Whatwas he going to tell his mother? Shewould be horrified if she were to see himcarrying his bicycle home.

His mother was not only horrified,she was speechless for a good fiveseconds. Then the words came rushingto her lips. “Oh, Shen, you were knockeddown by a car! You fell off your bicycle!You fell into the drain! You…!”


“Mum…please, Mum! Let meexplain! No… no… don’t say anything!I was very careful! I looked out for thetraffic. I didn’t fall into the drain. I tookgreat care of myself… but then I gotheld up in the bakery!”

“Oh Shen, my dear boy! My poorboy!” his mother cried over and overagain.

Glumly, Shen held out the loaf ofbread. His mother took it. And then shegasped. One of the fingers had slippedinto a hole in the middle of the loaf.

“What’s this?” she cried inamazement.

Shen stared at the loaf of bread. Abullet hole! The gunman’s bullet musthave hit the loaf of bread when his gunwent off accidentally!

“That’s a bullet hole! The gunman…”

But before Shen could finish hissentence, his mother had fainted.

“Mum…Mum…you haven’t heardthe whole story yet! You…” Shen brokeoff abruptly to stare at his unconsciousmother.

“Oh me, oh my ! what am I going todo now?” he thought frantically.

Shen pulled the loaf of bread off hismother’s finger and slipped it under herhead. That would cushion for head whilehe ran over to Grandma’s house. Shewould know what to do!

The next door neighbours camerunning Shen sprinted for the gate.

“What happened, Shen?”“What’s wrong with your mother?”

cried the two neighbours, horrified at thesight of Shen’s mother stretched out onthe porch in full view of everyonepassing by.


“Oh, Mrs. Chen…Madam Salimah!Please stay with my mother for a while.I’m going to call my grandma! I’m goingover to call my aunts!”

“All right, boy! All right…but whathappened? What happened?”

“There’s a bullet hole in the bread.The gun went off! The gunman escaped!My bicycle was run over! Please staywith my mother! I must call my grandma!I must call my aunts!” cried Shen as heran off, greatly agitated.

The two neighbours stared at oneanother in shock. Soon they were joinedby more neighbours who came rushingin through the open gate.

Mrs. Chen stared at the growingcrowd and then blurted out in horror,“Shen’s mother has a bullet hole in herhead!”

The crowd of women gasped.“A gunman shot her!” wailed Madam

Salimah.“He ran over Shen’s bicycle,” wept

Mrs. Chen.“What shall we do?” asked Mrs.

Bala. She looked very worried.“Call the police! Ring up the

ambulance! Ring up Shen’s father!” criedseveral voices.

“What…what…what’s wrong?Where…where…where am I?” criedShen’s mother.

The neighbours drew back in alarm.Then they bent over Shen’s bewilderedmother.

“Don’t move, Mrs. Huang! Don’tmove! There’s a bullet hole in your head!”

“No… keep still, please, Mrs.Huang!”

“Don’t move! Shen’s gone to get hisgrandma and his aunts!”

“Mrs. Lin has gone to ring up thepolice!”

“The ambulance is on its way!”“Be careful of the bullet hole in your

head! Don’t move! Keep still!” cried theexcited neighbours.

“I don’t need the police! I don’t needthe ambulance! The bullet hole is notin my head! It’s in the bread!” cried Mrs.Huang. She pushed away the handsholding her down and struggled to herfeet.

Mrs. Chen, Madam Salimah, Mrs.Bala, Mrs. Lin and all the other ladiesgasped. They picked up the bread andexamined it. Yes, there was a bullet holeright through the loaf of bread. Theirfingers probed the hole. Yes, it was ahole all right! A real bullet hole!

“But who shot the bread?”“Why shoot the bread?” asked

several voices.“Excuse me, ladies! “Excuse me,

ladies! Oh, Mum…Mum! You’re allright! Grandma’s not in the house is alllocked up!”


“What happened, Shen? Whathappened?” cried his mother.

“You sit down, Mum! You sit downand I’ll tell you!” sighed Shen.

Everyone listened as Shen told hisstory. His mother gasped several times.So did the other ladies.

Excited cries filled the air asquestions were asked and answers given.Finally, the police arrived. So did theambulance.

Shen told his story all over again. Heeven showed the ambulance men thebullet hole in the bread. They shooktheir heads, then moved off to answeranother call. Groups of people gatheredto discuss the bread that was shot in thehead. Then everyone followed the policeto the bakery where investigations beganin earnest.

The baker’s boy told his story, thebaker told his story, and Shen told hisstory all over again. He had got over hisshock and was beginning to feel that hisencounter with the robbers was thehighlight of his young life. It was thebest thing that had happened to him –the most exciting adventure he had sofar!

The crowd listened to his story threetimes over after the police left, takingthe bread with the bullet hole in it withthem. Then, their curiosity satisfied,they set off for home.

Shen sighed, bought another loaf ofbread and walked home with his mother.It was getting dark and Dad would becoming home soon for dinner. Yes, hecould tell Dad his story. Then, therewould be Grandma and the aunts theywould want to hear the story, too!

“Are you all right now, Mum?” askedShen.

His mother nodded. She put her armsround him, thankful that he was safe.

Shen grinned and kissed his mother’scheek. He would always be grateful toher. If she had not said, “Take care!” noneof this would have happened to him.

(This is a story from Singapore included inNBT’s publication Laughing Together brought outin collaboration with Asian Coltural Centre forUNESCCO)


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dNqvk vkdk'k esa mM+dj cgqr [kq'k gks


okg--- fdruk etk vk jgk gS!fdarq u cksyus dh 'krZ ;kn djdsog pqi FkkA Hkxoku cq¼ us dgk]tc ;g gekjh cLrh ds mQij lsxqtjk rc dqN yksxksa us vk'p;Z&pfdr gksdj bl n`'; dks ns[kk] osfpYyk mBsμ^vjs ns[kks rks] nks gal,d dNq, dks Vk¡xdj ys tk jgsgSa!*

;g lqudj dNqvk 'krZ Hkwyx;k vkSj cksyus ds fy, eq¡g [kksycSBk fd os eq>s viuh [kq'kh ls ystk jgs gSa] rqEgkjk D;k fcxM+rk gS!fdarq eq¡g [kksyrs gh dNqvk mlydM+h ls] ftls mlus eqa¡g esa nck;kgqvk Fkk vkSj galksa ds lgkjs vkdk'kesa mM+ jgk Fkk] vyx gks x;k vkSjvkdk'k ls lh/k ;gk¡ ck”kkj dhlM+d ij vk fxjkA

tc dksbZ fcuk lksps&fopkjs ckrsadjrk gS rc mls ,slh gh eqlhcrmBkuh iM+rh gSA mldh nqxZfr dNq,ds leku gh gksrh gSA lksp&fopkjdjde cksyus okyk O;fDr lnk lq[khjgrk gSA

jgk FkkA og viuh [kq'kh dks cM+heqf'dy ls jksd ik jgk FkkA mldsxys esa ckj&ckj [kqtyh gksrh FkhAog dguk pkg jgk Fkk fd okg---

102] ,p-vkbZ-th-] cztfogkj]iks- panzuxj] xkft;kckn&201011 (mÙkj izns'k)


The Old WomanDevina Basu

Cancer — is the word that gives megoose-bumps. It reminds me of theindifference that we had shown towardsthe old lady in our neighbourhood. Shewas new to our neighbourhood. Herappearance was funny and it made uslaugh. She was a fat, pot-bellied womanwith wrinkles on her hands. Her thighswere huge and her feet big.

We thought that she was an oldwoman who, due to her age, was weakand couldn’t take care of herself ... butwe didn’t really care.

We were so much engrossed inmaking fun of her that we weren’t aware

that she was suffering from a deadlydisease.

Being a young boy in my teens Ididn’t really understand much about thepain of the old woman and I never didreally care to enquire about her health oreven talk to her in a polite manner.

She was a poor woman and could notreally afford much. We could have givenher some money or even read her theBible but we didn’t, instead we spent ourdays teasing her.

We regret it now ... at least I do!She had often told me that she was

lonely, she liked me and craved for my


company, but I always brushed it awaysaying that I had little time to waste onher.

Now, when I think of how rude I hadbeen to her, it makes me cry. She oftenused to tell us about bad effects ofsmoking and drinking because her sondied of lung cancer due to addiction. Wenever listened to her. We told her that wedidn’t care about her dead son and didnot heed her advice.

After sometime, arrived the biggestproblem in her life – cancer.

We had noticed her face gettingblown up and even her body. Her healthwas deteriorating. I was worried. Achapter that I had studied in middleschool came back to me. It spoke aboutlung cancer and its symptoms. But Icouldn’t remember anything written inthe chapter because I had not paidattention then.

That night, I looked up the internetand understood that ‘our’ old lady hadthe symptoms of lung cancer.

Next morning, I went straight to herhouse, picked her up and drove her tothe hospital. After many tests, my worstfear was confirmed. I admitted her to thehospital immediately and told my parentsover the phone about the old lady. Theyscolded me for my earlier behaviourtowards her. They instructed me to doeverything I could to prevent her from

getting the cancer, regardless of whatthe cost was.

Over the next few weeks, I dideverything I could for the old lady. Asmy parents were out of town, I paid forher chemotherapy and other treatments.Though my friends thought it to be stupidand unnecessary.

I spent every minute of my spare timewith her. Even after six weeks, she wasn’tgetting better but on the contrary hercondition was worsening. The doctorstold me that they’d done all they couldand now all we could do was wait andwatch ... which was another way ofsaying that she was dying. I couldn’tbelieve it.

A couple of days after that, when Iwas feeding her soup, she told me that Ishouldn’t blame myself and that it wouldhurt her deeply. She told me that the onlyreason she had returned to her old habitswas that she saw me as her own son andseeing me wasting my life was too muchfor her.

Four days after that, on 17th May2007, Alberta Christine Matthews died.Yes, that was the name of ‘our’ old lady,though strangely, it hardly mattered tome. She would remain the ‘sweet oldlady’ to me forever. I remained speechlessthat day. I could’t cry.

After her body was taken away, thedoctor came to me and gave me a letter


saying that it was found beneath her bed.It was addressed to me. It read:

Dear Jonathan,I will always be in debt because of

the love you have shown to me. I don’tknow how I can ever repay you for yourkindness? I don’t think, I will haveenough time to do so.

You’ve always reminded me of myson and I’ve always loved you. You stoodby me when no one was there. You’veacted like a son. I hope you’ll alwaysremember me. If I’ve ever been of anyhelp to you, I shall be happy. Forgive me,

if I’ve ever made any mistakes. Godbless you!

YoursAlberta

She will always be in my memories,till the day I die. She has had a hugeinfluence in my life. I have quit smokingand drinking for good. I have lost all myfriends that I had, but I’ve realised thatthey weren’t my true friends.

So old lady, hats off to you for doingso much for me. I hope you are having aspectacular life in heaven.

3 Regent Park, Kolkata-700040 (W.B.)


Grandmother…O, my grandmother !Where are you?Where are your sweet songs?Where is your sweet food?

I always miss your soft touchOn my foreheadI always miss your fairy talesAt the bed time

GrandmotherHemant Kumar

Where is that blue skyAnd full moon lightThe soothing shadeOf those mango trees?

I always remember my childhoodAnd the time I spent with youMy tear swollen eyes for want of foodAnd your sweet words“Wait my prince!”“I am baking breads for you”And your fingers getting burntFrom the frying pan due to hurry

And I also remember your sweet lullabysWhich you always sang to me at dinnertimeTo feed me with your loving handsWill these things never return…Can you not come back to me?

**** *****

****** ******

RS-2/108, Rajya Sampatti Avasiya ParisarSector-21, Indiranagar

Lucknow-226016 (Uttar Pradesh)


ykyph gyokbZehrk laxsfy;k¡

panw uke dk ,d vkneh ,d NksVs&ls xk¡oesa viuh feBkbZ dh nqdku [kksyus ds fy,vk;k FkkA mldk NksVk&lk ifjokj FkkA mldhiRuh vkSj mlds csVs v'kksd us ?kj ls FkksM+hnwjh ij gh viuh feBkbZ dh nqdku [kksyusdk iSQlyk fd;kA

panw dh nqdku ds ikl ,d vkSj feBkbZdh nqdku FkhA bl nqdkunkj dk uke ukudgyokbZ FkkA vke rkSj ij mldh feBkb;k¡dksbZ ugha [kjhnrk Fkk vkSj b/j panw dhnqdku ij fdrus gh yksx feBkbZ [kjhnus dsfy, vk, gq, FksA panw dh feBkbZ cgqrtYnh&tYnh fcd jgh FkhA

;s lc ns[kdj ukud gyokbZ dks cgqrxqLlk vk jgk FkkA mlus lkspk] vxj ,slk ghpyrk jgk rks ,d fnu eq>s [kkus ds ykysiM+ tk,¡xs vkSj eSa lM+d ij vk tkm¡QxkA

dqN&u&dqN rks djuk gh iM+sxkA,d fnu tc panw gyokbZ feBkbZ cuk

jgk Fkk rks ukud gyokbZ us pqids ls mldhf[kM+dh esa ls >k¡ddj ns[kk fd ;s dSlsfeBkbZ cuk jgk gSA vkSj fiQj vius ?kjtkdj fcydqy mlh rjg feBkbZ cukus yxx;k] tSls panw gyokbZ us cukbZ FkhA

vkSj lqcg&lqcg viuh feBkb;k¡ ysdjnqdku ij vk x;k vkSj tksj&tksj ls vkoktyxkus yxk&feV~Bh&feV~Bh feBkbZ [kkdj ns[kks!,d ckj [kkvksxs rks ckj&ckj ek¡xksxs! rksdqN xk¡ookyksa us ukud gyokbZ dh feBkbZ[kjhndj [kkbZ] mUgsa cgqr ilan vkbZA

xk¡ookyksa dks ukud gyokbZ dh feBkbZ[kkrs ns[k vkSj yksx Hkh mldh feBkbZ [kkusvk x,A ;s ns[k panw [kq'k gqvk vkSj ukud dksc/kbZ nsus pyk x;k] ̂ ^vjs ukud HkkbZ] eqckjd


gks! vkt rks rqEgkjh lkjh feBkbZ fcd xbZ!**^^gk¡ panw HkkbZ] lc Hkxoku dh o`Qik gSA

yks panw HkkbZ] vki Hkh p[kdj ns[kksA**^^gk¡&gk¡] fcydqy] gesa Hkh p[kkvks!**panw feBkbZ [kkdj ns[krk gS vkSj

eu&gh&eu lksprk gS fd ;s feBkbZ rksfcydqy oSls gh cuh gS tSls fd mldhfeBkbZA ysfdu ,slk oSQls gks ldrk gS!'kk;n ukud HkkbZ dk Hkh ogh rjhdk gksfeBkbZ cukus dk] tSlk esjkA

vkSj panw us oks ckr ogha [kre dj nhvkSj vxys fnu ds fy, ,d vyx&lhfeBkbZ cukbZ] ftls cukus esa mlds csVs v'kksdus vius firk dh enn dhA ij panw vkSjmlds csVs dks D;k irk Fkk fd tks feBkbZ okscuk jgs gSa mlh feBkbZ dks ukud gyokbZlh[kus ds fy, mUgha dh f[kM+dh esa ls>k¡d jgk gS! vkSj feBkbZ cukuk lh[krs ghukud iQVkiQV vius ?kj tkdj ogh feBkbZcukrk gSA

vkSj vxyh gh lqcg nqdku ij feBkbZdks cspus vk tkrk gS vkSj fiQj tksj&tksj lsvkokt yxkus yx tkrk gS] ^^ns[kks yksxks]ns[kks] ,d ubZ feBkbZ [kkdj rks ns[kks] vkvks&vkvks!**

yksxksa dh HkhM+ ukud gyokbZ dh nqdkuij yx tkrh gSA ml feBkbZ dks yksx ogk¡[kkrs Hkh gSa vkSj vius ?kj Hkh ysdj tkrs gSaA

;g ns[kdj panw lksp esa iM+ tkrk gSvkSj fiQj ukud mlds ikl vkrk gSA ^^vjspanw HkkbZ] D;k gqvk] vkt Hkh vkidh feBkbZ

ugha fcdh D;k\**^^gk¡ ukud HkkbZ] ugha fcdh] pyks] dksbZ

ckr ughaA vkt ugha fcdh rks dy fcdtk,xhA** vkSj fiQj ukud gyokbZ viuhfeBkbZ panw gyokbZ dks nsrk gS vkSj dgrk gS]^^vjs [kk yks panw HkkbZ!**

panw gyokbZ dks ukud dh feBkbZ [kkusdk fcydqy Hkh eu ugha djrk] fiQj Hkh oksFkksM+h&lh feBkbZ p[k ysrk gS vkSj ukudgyokbZ ls dgrk gS fd ukud HkkbZ] ;sfeBkbZ rks fcydqy esjh feBkbZ ds tSlh ghgS vkSj bldk Lokn Hkh esjh feBkbZ ds tSlkgSA ukud xqLls ls cksyrk gS] ^^vjs panwHkkbZ! ;s D;k dg jgs gks\ ;s esjh cukbZ gqbZfeBkbZ gS] vkidh ughaA irk ugha dgk¡&dgk¡ls pys vkrs gSa!** ukud gyokbZ panw gyokbZdks tokc nsdj pyk tkrk gSA

panw gyokbZ lksprk&lksprk vius ?kjpyk tkrk gSA firk dks mnkl ns[k mldkcsVk v'kksd vius firk ls iwNrk gS] ^^D;kgqvk firk th] vki brus fujk'k D;ksa gSa\**

^^dqN ugha csVk!**^^ugha&ugha firk th] dqN&u&dqN ckr

rks t:j gS! crkvks u firk th!** panw viuscsVs dks lc dqN crk nsrk gSA ;g lqudjpanw dk csVk cgqr xqLlk gksrk gS] ̂ ^gks&u&gksfirk th] vkidk 'kd fcydqy Bhd gSA ij,slk ugha pysxk firk thA gesa dqN&u&dqNrks djuk gh gksxk!** vkSj rHkh v'kksd dsfnekx esa ,d ;kstuk vkrh gSA og ;kstukv'kksd vius firk dks crkrk gSA


v'kksd vkSj panw feBkbZ cukus yx tkrsgSa vkSj rHkh panw dh utj f[kM+dh ij iM+rhgSA ukud gyokbZ mlh ds ?kj dh f[kM+dhds ikl [kM+k gqvk FkkA rHkh panw tksj lsvius csVs dks dgrk gS] ^^vjs v'kksd csVk]ge vkt ,d vyx rjg dh feBkbZ cukjgs gSa] ftlesa dkyh fepZ cgqr t:jh gS!**rHkh v'kksd tokc nsrk gS] ^^gk¡&gk¡ firkth] bl feBkbZ esa feBkbZ dk Lokn nqxukdjrh gS ;s dkyh fepZ!**

;g lqudj ukud gyokbZ tYnh&tYnhfeBkbZ cukus yx tkrk gSA ^^vjs okg! vktfiQj jQi;s dh ckfj'k gksxhA**

ukud us tYnh&tYnh lkjh feBkbZ cukyh vkSj vxyh lqcg viuh feBkbZ ys nqdkuesa vk x;kA vkSj vkt rks mlus vkokt Hkhugha yxkbZA fcuk mldh vkokt ds xk¡o dsyksx mldh feBkbZ [kjhnus vk x,A ysfduvkt ukud dh feBkbZ [kkrs gh lcus myVhdjuh 'kq: dj nh] ̂ ^vjs! ;s dksbZ feBkbZ gS!Nh% Nh%! fdruh xanh gS!**

vc xk¡ookys panw dh nqdku dh vksjeqM+s vkSj ogk¡ ls feBkbZ ysus yxsA ^^vjsokg] ;s gS feBkbZ! vc pkgs tks Hkh gks gerks panw gyokbZ ls gh feBkbZ [kjhnsaxs!**

panw dh nqdku feBkbZ ls fcydqy [kkyhgks xbZA ,d feBkbZ Hkh ugha cphA ukudgyokbZ dks lc le> esa vk tkrk gS vkSjgkFk tksM+dj og panw gyokbZ ls ekiQhek¡xrk gSA ^^eq>s ekiQ dj nks panw HkkbZ!

eq>ls cgqr cM+h xyrh gks xbZA eq>s ,slkugha djuk pkfg, FkkA tSlk Hkh gks] igysesjh feBkbZ fcd rks jgh Fkh] ij vc rks'kk;n dksbZ Hkh ugha [kjhnsxk!** panw us ukuddks fnyklk fn;k vkSj dgk] ^^ukud HkkbZ]rqEgsa tSlk Hkh vkrk gS oks cgqr vPNk gS]rqe fpark er djksA tSls igys rqEgkjh nqdkupyrh Fkh] vc Hkh oSls gh pysxhA**

^^rqeus esjh vk¡[ksa [kksy nhaA ,d ckjfiQj gkFk tksM+dj eSa rqels ekiQh ek¡xrk gw¡Avkt ds ckn eSa dHkh ,slk ugha d:¡xk!**

vkSj FkksM+s gh fnu ckn tSls panw dhnqdku ij yksxksa dh HkhM+ te tkrh Fkh oSlsgh ukud dh nqdku ij Hkh yksxksa dh HkhM+yxus yxhA vkSj panw vkSj ukud gyokbZfeydj viuh&viuh nqdku [kq'kh&[kq'khpykus yxsA

2515 t; fogkj] fudV jsyos LVs'kuxqM+xk¡o&122001 (gfj;k.kk)


canj HkS;k ds C;kg esa

cus pViVs ngh&cM+s

gkFkh nknk lkS [kk x,

fcu lksps gh [kM+s&[kM+sA

lkS [kkdj Hkh isV Hkjk u

canj ls cksys nknkμ

^^HkS;k Hkw[kk jg x;k gw¡

f[kyokvks eq>dks T;knk!**

canj cksyk&^^I;kjs nknk!

jge rqe dqN eq> ij [kkvks

esgeku Hkw[ks pys tk,¡xs

o`Qi;k rqe vius ?kj tkvksA**

pViVs ngh&cM+svfuy ^losjk*

829] jktk xyh] txk/jh&135003(gfj;k.kk)


A Foolish KingPrabir Kumar Pal

Once there was a king. He was verycruel. He never loved his subjects. Hismain joy was to punish people.

His son was also a boy of no virtue.Like his father, he was nitwitted andreckless. He always loved to show hisbravado.

One morning he went out with hishorse for a joy ride. He whipped andwhipped the horse. The horse ran fasterand faster. But, alas! the prince could notkeep control. He fell down, got badlyinjured and died.

From lip to lip the news of his deathran. The cause of his death was explainedin many ways. Someone said that theprince was murdered. The king heard it.

He became angry.

Soon he passed an order to find outthe murderer.

His guards, servants, fighters, spiesand even the jester ran to catch theculprit.

They were trembling in fear. Becausethe king would hang them. But the jesterwas not worried. The king was a greatfool. He knew it well. So he made a plan.

He brought two asses. He said to the

king, “These two asses have murderedthe prince. The secret murderer is calledan ‘Assassin’. There are two asses in theword. These two asses came into myroom to see if I was searching for them.Just then I caught them.”

The silly king took them asmurderers. With the beating of drums hehanged them. He got so much joy that heforgot the death of his son.

Purbagopalpur Primary SchoolP.O. Bhadrapur, Birbhum (W.B.)


Water

Water is the gift of godCan we say this now?What man has done with nature’s giftEvery child does know.

The rivers have turned to garbage dumpsThe sky is black with sootThe oceans are choked with stinkingsludgeWho’ll live to share the loot?

We’ve broken all of nature’s rulesThinking we know the bestWe’re just a pack of arrogant foolsFailing nature’s test!

Water is the spice of lifeWater lets us liveNever asks for any returnOnly knows to give.

Come friends, let’s join handsLet us rescue waterSave the water, save the earthAnd tomorrow will be better.

Pigeon

It’s only a tiny, common birdYet it flies ever so highWhen it soars into the skyI can only look up and sigh.

It’s only a timid birdSheltering in the houseLiving in constant fear ofThe cat, the dog and the mouse.

I’m a normal healthy boyGrowing big and stoutYet I never dare to venture farLest danger be about.

I should be like the pigeonSoaring ever so highReady to face any challengeMy courage shall not die.

[email protected]

Two PoemsDash Benhur


tc rktegy uhyke gkssrs&gksrs cpkvadq'k tSu

th gk¡] rktegy ,d le; uhykegksrs&gksrs cpkA

ykbZ dtZu us 7 iQjojh] 1900 dsfnu ,f'k;kfVd lkslkbVh vkWiQ caxkyds le{k vius bfrgkl izfl¼ Hkk"k.kesa rktegy dh uhykeh ds jgL; dkmn~?kkVu fd;k FkkA ykMZ dtZufofy;e cSafVax ds le; esa rktegydks] mlds laxejejksa dks cspdj /ubdV~Bk djus ds fy,] u"V djus dh;kstuk cuh FkhA mlh xouZj tujy usfganqLrku ds 'kga'kkg 'kkgtgk¡ ds egyds laxejej ds oqaQM (ePNh dqaM) dksuhykeh ij p<+kdj csp fn;k FkkA

lu~ 1828 esa bZLV bafM;k daiuhdh vkfFkZd fLFkfr [kjkc gks tkus dsdkj.k rktegy ds laxejej dks cspdj/u izkIr djus dk izLrko j[kk x;kFkkA okLro esa rktegy esa laxejdjds ewY; dks vk¡dus ds fy, gh ePNhoqaQM ds laxejej dks uhyke fd;kx;k Fkk] ij vk'kk ds foijhr mldkcgqr de ewY; fudykA

vuqeku yxkus ij irk pyk Fkkfd laxejej ds vuqekfur ewY; lsdgha vfèkd mls <gkus vkSj mldklaxejej baXySaM Hkstus ij O;; gks tk,xkA


Ms<+ djksM+ jQi;s dks vafre cksyh ekudjljdkj Lohdkj dj ysrh] ijarq tu vlarks"kds dkj.k v¡xzst ljdkj us foo'k gksdjrktegy dks uhyke ugha fd;kA vius cpkods fy, ljdkj us dgk fd cksyh ds deyxus ds dkj.k rktegy ugha fcdkA blizdkj rktegy uhyke gksrs&gksrs cp x;kA

dydÙkk (vc dksydkrk) ls izdkf'krgksus okys ^tkucqy* us vius 31 tqykbZ]1831 ds vad esa ,d lekpkj izdkf'krfd;k] ^xouZj tujy us vkxjk dh eksrh>hy ds laxejejksa dks 1]25]000 jQi;ksa esacsp fn;k vkSj mls vc /jk'kk;h fd;k tkjgk gSA rktegy dks Hkh uhykeh }kjk cspktk jgk Fkk ij mldk okafNr ewY; u feyldkA*

blds ckn Hkh rktegy dks cspus dsizLrko ij fopkj gksrk jgk] ij 1935 esa blizLrko dks ljdkj us lnk ds fy, jn~n djfn;kA rktegy dk lkSHkkX; Fkk fd ogcp x;k vkSj O;kikfj;ksa ds ykyp dkf'kdkj u cu ik;kA

var esa] ykMZ dtZu }kjk iqjkrRo foHkkxdh LFkkiuk dj fdlh Hkh ,sfrgkfld ;klkoZtfud bekjr dks uqdlku igq¡pkukdkuwuu vijk/ ?kksf"kr dj fn;k x;kA

tSulu okyk LVs'kulZipigkM+ jksM] Hkokuh eaMh&326502 (jktLFkku)

rc ykMZ fofy;e cSafVax us Hkkjr esa ghrktegy dks uhyke dj /u bdV~Bk djusdk fopkj fd;kA ,slk mlus mu v¡xzstO;kikfj;ksa ds lq>ko ij fd;k] tks Hkkjr esaO;kikj djus ds mn~ns'; ls vk, Fks vkSjftUgksaus rktegy dks ns[kk FkkA

v¡xzst ljdkj dh vksj ls tqykbZ 1831dh 20 rkjh[k dks vkxjk ds rktegy dhuhykeh dk fganqLrku Hkj esa f<a<+ksjk ihVkx;kA

^^[kyd [kqnk dk] eqyd v¡xzst ckn'kkgdk] gqdqe daiuh cgknqj dk] lc yksxjQddj lqurs tkvks] daiuh cgknqj dk dgukgS fd fnu nksigj 20 tqykbZ] 1831 bZ- dks11 cts rktchch dk jkStk uhyke gksxkAftl fdlh dks cksyh cksydj [kjhnuk gksog rktegy ds lnj njokts ij gkftjjgs--- ,¿ ,¿!**

ljdkj dk vuqeku Fkk fd rktegyde&ls&de nks djksM+ jQi;ksa esa uhyke gksldrk gS] ij vf/dre cksyh yxh Ms<+djksM+ dh] tcfd rktegy ds fuekZ.k ijNg djksM+ jQi;s O;; gq, FksA


eu esa ,d fnu 'ksj dsvk;k ,d fopkjnkor dk U;ksrk fHktok;ke; taxy ifjokjA

Hkkyw us jD[kk Fkk ozrcl [kk, mlus vkywidokuksa dk etk ys jgkFkk ,d canj dkywA

gkFkh nknk Nddj [kk,dVh bZ[k dk xqYykcanj pkpk ,d&nks ugha[kk x, lc jlxqYykA

'ksj dh nkoriwue feJk

306] HkkLdj] Vh-vkbZ-,iQ-vkj- gkmflax dkWEIysDlgkseh HkkHkk jksM] dqykck&400005] eqacbZ (egkjk"Vª)


It was a normal day. I woke up early inthe morning and found myself lying onthe bed and to my amazement I foundthat my bed was attached with newelectronic gadgets. I wished to spend mywhole day with the gadgets but I had toget ready for the school a little earlier asI had to attend a workshop in my school.

When I left for school, I discoveredthat my house was surrounded with manyhuge buildings that did not exist earlier.This left me wondering, it was notpossible because the place where I livedhad no buildings at all. I felt like as if Iwas in a big city like Los Angeles orBoston.

When I moved further, I noticed thatDehradun was very clean as if it was thecleanest city of the world. I alwaysdreamed about visiting Singapore orDubai but now Dehradun looked likethem.

Dehradun 2025Kartik Dhiman

On my way to school, I alsoobserved that now Dehradun had its ownairport from where both domestic andinternational flights were taking off.

As I moved closer to my school, Isaw that bullet trains – the fastest trainsin the world – were departing from therailway station. I also found that a hugeflyover was built over the Rajpur Roadwith traffic signals all over and very fewvehicles running on it.

Finally, I reached school, met myfriends and attended the workshop.

After school, I reached home andstarted doing my home work. I began mywork by writing the date 4 August 2013in my notebook. My sister interruptedand told me that I had written the wrongdate as today the date was 5 July 2025.

I was shocked and thought that Ishould ascertain the date from mymother. I ran towards the kitchen to seeif my mother was there or not but Islipped over on a banana peel.

Can you guess what it broke…? Itdidn’t break my bone or any other partof my body. It broke my dream… adream of Dehradun 2025!

Jaswant Modern SchoolDehradun-248001 (Uttrakhand)

My Page


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The canvas was his creation, the palette his fantasyAs he painted relentlessly towards ecstasyOblivious to the world but devoted to his museUnrelenting, beauty and perfection he pursues The toil rewards him, with a master piece so rareSenses fail; all he does is stand and stareHis passion breathes life into the paperThe damsel enchants him into a pleasant stupor Lost in the long twirls that flow unboundThe doe-eyed gaze, leaves you spellboundThe lips curl into a smile that reaches the eyesYet beyond everyone’s grasp this damsel lies

Captivated by his work, the creator becomes its slaveThe word spreads of its beauty due to his flattering raveFrom far and wide come people, to meet the same fateOne look it takes, to pass into the hapless state Obsessed by her beautyHis brushstrokes never the sameHe loses sanityFor the damsel cast had her spellSmitten for eternity.

[email protected]

The PortraitDarshil Shastri

My Page


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September is the ninth month of the yearin the Julian and Gregorian calendars.On 23rd day of this month, falls theequinox which brings Autumn in theNorthern Hemisphere and Spring inSouthern Hemisphere. Some majorhistorical events and inventions tookplace in this month. Not only this, manypersonalities in the field of science,literature and arts were also born in thismonth.

1 September

● 1939: World War II began withGerman invasion of Poland

2 September

● 1945: World War II ended with thesurrender of Japan

3 September

● 1875: Ferdinand Porsche, a Germaninventor who designed the Porsche andVolkswagen cars was born

● 1971: Kiran Desai, anIndian author who wonthe Man Booker Prize inthe year 2006 was born

● 1976: Viking II spacecraft landed onMars at Utopia Planitia

5 September

● Teacher’s Day iscelebrated in India inhonour of Dr SarvepalliRadhakrishnan, formerPresident of Indiawho was also a greatphilosopher and teacher

● 1997: Mother Teresa,Nobel Peace Prizewinner, died

6 September

● 1766: John Dalton, renowned scientistwas born

8 September

● 1933: Asha Bhosle,famous singer was born

● UNESCO celebrates the InternationalLiteracy Day across the world to spreadliteracy awareness amongst world’silliterate community

Interesting Facts about SeptemberSurekha Sachdeva


11 September

● 1816: Carl Zeiss, noted Germanoptician was born

13 September

● 1916: Roald Dahl, children’s authorwas born

15 September

● 1890: Bestseller novelist AgathaChristie was born

16 September

● 1916: M S Subbulaxmi, famouscarnatic vocalist andBharat Ratna receipientwas born

21 September

● 1866: H.G. Wells, the father ofscience fiction, was born

● International Alzheimer’s Day or theWorld Alzheimer’s Day is observedevery year to spread the understandingof this degenerating disease of thecentral nervous system

● United Nations celebrates WorldGratitude Day to foster ‘an idea ofgratitude’ in people so that theyappreciate good things about others

26 September

● 1820: Ishwar ChandraVidyasagar, well-knownwriter and reformist wasborn

● 1888: T.S. Eliot, famous writer wasborn

● 1923: Dev Anand,one of the popularBollywood actors wasborn

27 September

● 1825: The first passenger train becameoperational in England

28 September

● 1907: Bhagat Singh,the great freedomfighter was born

● 1929: Famous singer,Lata Mangeshkar wasborn

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National Centre for Children’sLiterature (NCCL) has a Library-cum-Documentation Centre with a collectionof over 15,000 books on children’sliterature covering wide range ofsubjects in 44 languages of the world(18 Indian and 26 foreign languages).Over 50 periodicals of children’sliterature in various Indian languages arealso subscribed by the Library forreading and reference of the libraryusers. The Library has recently been re-modelled to give an ultra-modern lookand provide quality services to the users.Located at the ground floor at thepremises of the Trust, the Library isspread over an area of 96.2 sq mts. Ithas been designed keeping in mind themultifarious needs of the users.

The Library has the followingholdings:

● Research and Reference: over600 rare reference books to helpprofessionals, scholars and researchersfor their research work, surveys etc.

● M e d i a / M u l t i - M e d i a : 1 5 0DVDs/Videos on children’s literature, atouch screen, 4 PCs and one LCD TV.

● Books for Children and YoungAdults: over 15,000 books (both fictionand non-fiction) for children and youngadults on various themes from around theworld.

National Centre for Children’s Literature Library: A Profile

Reading Room Facilities:Reading tables, chairs, book shelves,library space, recessed lights, anti-skidflooring, wooden steps and appropriateventilation for users for providing idealatmosphere for reading.

Networking: NCCL Library isconnected with over 4,000 DELNETmember libraries through internetincluding Delhi Public Library,Jawaharlal Nehru University Library etc.

Who can be a member of the NCCLLibrary?

Anybody working in the field ofchildren’s literature, established andbudding writers, editors, librarians,illustrators, publishers, researchers,teachers among others.

How can one become a member ofthe NCCL Library?

To become a member of the NCCLLibrary one can fill up the membershipform and pay Rs 100/- as one timemembership fee and Rs 500/- for generalmembers and Rs 250/- for buddingwriters as the case may be as refundablesecurity. Free temporary membership(Reading Room Facility only) foroutstation experts on visit to Delhi forLibrary consultation is also available.

The Library is also open to schoolchildren for group visit.


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Hazy the LazySagarika Maheshwari

Aadya BooksRs. 50.00

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Hazy the LazyA story about a baby elephant ‘Hazy’ wholives in a forest with a herd of elephants.He is the laziest elephant in the herd andhis fellow elephants call him with thename ‘Hazy the Lazy’. One day, Hazydecides to leave the herd but at night hefeels lonely and misses his mother.Finally, he learns a valuable lesson ofbeing careful and attentive. The smallchildren would find this book interestingand inspiring. The book has attractiveillustrations and has been written in easylanguage.

Readers’ Club Bulletin...Bhavnagar Zilla Prathmik Siksha Sangh, the district level teachers’...

Documents

Transcript of Readers’ Club Bulletin...Bhavnagar Zilla Prathmik Siksha Sangh, the district level teachers’...