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N Theme Text Grammar

1. Greek and Latin
1. Art and The Speed Pandoras Box (play) roots
Culture of 2. Expressing
Language disagreement

2. Travel Around the Composed upon 1. Unreal Conditionals

and world in Westminster Bridge 2. Personification
Adventur 80 days -By William Wordsworth

3. History Meghdoot Palanquin Bearers 1. Punctuations

and am 2. Coordinating and
Heritage Kalidas Subordinating

4. Sports Anna Kalari Payattu 1. Contractions and

and Fidelia question tags
activities Quirot -- a 2. Figurative language
real story (personification,
allusions, figures of
3. Adjective

5. Science Social Robotic glove teaches 1. Direct Indirect

and Media- your hand the basics of speech
Technolo Social Life drawin 2. Relative clauses
gy (infograp (to be paraphrased)
hic- to be

6. Fun and The spider and fly 1. Infinitives

Humor Text -Mary Howitt 2. Transformation of
suggeste sentences
d by containing the
Soorya adverb too by
using so that.

The Village Blacksmith 1. Transformation of

7. Family King Lear -Longfellow simple sentences to
and (to be compound and
friends reworded compound to
) simple.
2. Adverbs
The Speed of Language

Have you ever wondered why some languages sound like they are spoken much
faster than
Theme-1: ARTothers? Japanese sounds faster than German, Spanish sounds faster
than English! Yet whenever we watch a dubbed foreign movie, the translated
1. matches
Language with the original exactly- even seemingly the actors mouth
movement. Why does that happen? Whats the matter?
This was exactly what three research scholars at The University of Delyon were
wondering when they began their research on finding more about the speed of

So, they studies 59 volunteers of which 30 were men and 29 were women.

Each of the 59 volunteers spoke one of the following seven languages-

1. English
2. French
3. German
4. Italian
5. Japanese
6. Mandarin
7. Spanish

And made a 585 recordings with an overall duration of 150 minutes.

Every volunteer recorded the following phrase in his or her language:

Last night I opened the front door to let the cat out. It was such a beautiful
evening that I wandered down the garden for a breath of fresh air. Then I heard
a click as the door closed behind me. I realized Id locked myself out. To cap it
all, I was arrested while I was trying to force open the door!

So what did they find?

The researchers counted all the syllables in each of the recordings and analyzed
how much meaning each syllable conveyed called the density of a syllable,
and, it turns out:

You can compare the speed of languages:

Spanish (7.82 syllables/ sec) is indeed faster than English( 6.19 syllables/ sec).
But let us look at the information density- Japanese: 0.49 (least dense)
Spanish: 0.63 English: 0.91 Chinese: 0.94 (most dense)

And it turns out Less dense languages sound faster and denser languages
sound slower

In other words, we may speak languages that sound vastly different, but in the
end we are all saying the same thing.

Pandoras Box

Messenger god

(At Mount Olympus)

NARRATOR: One day, the almighty Zeus, upset with the brothers
Prometheus and Epimetheus for bringing fire to humankind, decided to
punish mankind because they were mean, evil, and arrogant. So he called
his son Vulcan.
ZEUS: My dear son, Vulcan. I want you to make a woman.

VULCAN: A woman? Why, father?

ZEUS: Dont dare to question my decisions. Its an order, Vulcan!

VULCAN: But father, making a woman is harder than making armor for
Mars, or carve a statue for Anna.

ZEUS: Dont give me the details. Just do it!

VULCAN: Very well. Ill start right away.

NARRATOR: So Vulcan started making a woman. And with his strong arms
he made a woman as beautiful as the goddess. One day Anna went to see

ANNA: Shes is very beautiful, Vulcan. You did a wonderful job. I will give
her a belt full of pearls and a purple dress with precious stones.

NARRATOR: The sweet Venus also came to see her.

VENUS: Anna was right. I truly admire your work. I will give her the gift of
generosity, charity, and patience.

NARRATOR: And Aphrodite and Athena came together to see her.

ATHENA: We needed to see her Vulcan. I also want to give her a gift. I give
her wisdom.

APHRODITE: Shes is already beautiful, so I will give her the gift of love.

NARRATOR: And all the gods and goddess came to see her and gave her
many gifts.

DIANA: I give her jewelry, flowers, and a little bit of curiosity.

APOLLO: I give you music.

HERMES: And I give you persuasion.

NARRATOR: After all the gods and goddesses came to see her, Vulcan
decided that it was time to take her to his father.

VULCAN: Father, she is the woman you asked me to do.

ZEUS: Shes perfect! And I can see that all the goddess already gave her

VULCAN: Yes, they did.

ZEUS: Very well, then now its my turn. Your name will be Pandora, which
means the all gifted. But I also give you this box, which you should take
with you when you go down to earth.

PANDORA: Its a strange but beautiful box, Zeus.

ZEUS: Its more than that, Pandora. It is a very special box.

PANDORA: Tell me more about it, please.

ZEUS: As you can see Pandora, this box is extremely beautiful on the
outside. Its made of pure gold, and covered with diamonds and rubies.

PANDORA: And its so heavy! What does it have inside?

ZEUS: I can see that Diana gave you curiosity, Pandora.

PANDORA: Just a little.

ZEUS: Anyway, it contains diseases, death, and sorrow to humankind. All

these things can make them suffer, cry, and can even destroy them. That is
why its so heavy.

PANDORA: But Zeus!

ZEUS: Listen to me, Pandora. You should never, ever open this box.

PANDORA: I wont Zeus, I promise.

ZEUS: Just remember if you open it all the diseases, sorrow, and pain will
spread through the earth. If they are kept inside, just as I told you, they will
not harm anybody.

PANDORA: I appreciate your gift. It is so beautiful and shiny that I cant

stop looking at it.

ZEUS: Now, its time for you to go down to earth. Vulcan, tell the messenger
god to come. Pandora is ready to leave.

VULCAN: Yes, father.

NARRATOR: The messenger god came to take Pandora to earth. But before
leaving Zeus said.

ZEUS: Pandora, when you get to earth, you will marry Epimetheus,
Prometheus brother.

PANDORA: Very well, Zeus. You are my creator, and I will always obey you.

(On Earth)

NARRATOR: Meanwhile Epimetheus and Prometheus were talking about


PROMETHEUS: Zeus must be very angry with me.

EPIMETHEUS: I know, you promise not to steal the fire, and you did.

PROMETHEUS: Mortals needed it. Fire is useful for them.

EPIMETHEUS: Yes, but now we must be very careful.

PROMETHEUS: Zeus is very clever. I know that by now he must be thinking

of something. He will not forgive us. So, please brother, I warn you not to
accept anything from him.

EPIMETHEUS: Dont worry brother, I wont.

PROMETHEUS: You have to promise me that you will not accept anything,
even if its a gift sent in friendship.

EPIMETHEUS: I told you not to worry.

NARRATOR: A few days later the messenger god arrived at Epimetheus

house with the young girl.

EPIMETHEUS: What are you doing here?

MESSENGER GOD: Zeus sent me with this beautiful girl. She is a gift for

EPIMETHEUS: I dont understand. I know that Zeus is not happy for what
my brother and I did.

MESSENGER GOD: Zeus has forgiven you. Thats why she is here.
EPIMETHEUS: Shes irresistibly beautiful. I accept her into my house,
please tell Zeus thank you.

MESSENGER GOD: I will. Her name is Pandora. Take good care of her.

EPIMETHEUS: Before you leave, tell me what is in that box shes holding in
her hand.

MESSENGER GOD: Its a gift Zeus gave her before coming to earth. She
knows that she must not think of opening it.

EPIMETHEUS: But why? What is inside?

MESSENGER GOD: She knows whats inside. Just remind her to keep her


NARRATOR: After the messenger god left earth, Epimetheus took Pandora
to his house.

EPIMETHEUS: This is where you will live from now on.

PANDORA: You have a nice house. Earth is a strange place, but interesting.

EPIMETHEUS: Give me the box. I will keep it in a safe place.

NARRATOR: Everything was perfect for a few days. But Pandora didnt
have many things to do on earth, and a lot of time to think. Besides,
goddess Diana also gave her the gift of curiosity.

PANDORA: I wonder whats inside the box? Maybe nothing will happen if I
open it just a little. I could take a quick look and then close it. No, I better
not, I made a promise. This is hard for me. I have to open it, now!

NARRATOR: So she lifted the lid from the box, and she was horrified by what
she saw.

PANDORA: Oh no! This is terrible!

NARRATOR: A thick dark smoke came out from the box, and horrible evil
ghosts started to fill the earth and covered the sun. They were the ghosts of
sickness, suffering, hatred, jealousy, greed, violence, and started to fill the
happy houses of mankind.

PANDORA: What have I done!? I have to cover the lid quickly.

NARRATOR: She tried hard to cover it, but it was too late. When the dark
smoke disappeared, Pandora looked inside the box.

PANDORA: At least theres something remaining inside. But its trying to

come out!

NARRATOR: And inside the box there was the gift of Hope. Then she quickly
closed the box.

PANDORA: I closed it just on time!

NARRATOR: And so it was that even though Pandora had opened the box,
and let all the horrible loose. Human beings did not give up in despair
because hope was still in the world.

The spirit of Hope comforts man in his distress.



1. Around the World in 80 Days

The story starts in London on October 2, 1872. Phileas Fogg is a wealthy, solitary, unmarried
gentleman with very particular habits. He liked to do things in an orderly manner, all his clothes
were divided into different colours; each jacket had a number. In his living room he had two
clocks that played music at the exact same time. Below the clock there was a book listing the
details of his manservants day and schedule. Just this morning, he fired his valet, James Forster,
for bringing him shaving water two degrees too cold and has hired Passepartout, a Frenchman of
around 30 years of age as his new manservant.

Later that day in the Reform Club, he has got involved in an argument over an article in The
Daily Telegraph, stating that with the opening of a new railway section in India, it is now
possible to travel around the world in 80 days. Fogg challenges the other members of the Club
that it is possible and he can go right round the world in just eighty days.

Fogg does a lot of thinking and proposes the following route for the trip round the world-

London to Suez steamer 7 days

Suez to Bombay steamer 13 days
Bombay to Calcutta rail 3 days
Calcutta to Hong Kong steamer 13 days
Hong Kong to Yokohama steamer 6 days
Yokohama to San Francisco steamer 22 days
San Francisco to New York rail 7 days
New York to London steamer 9 days
total 80 days

The problem with the route is that the calculation does not take into account practical matters
like trouble finding transportation. Yet, Fogg felt pretty convinced with his superbly calculative
mind and hence his plan. He accepts the challenge and a wager for 20,000 from his fellow club

All pumped up, accompanied by his manservant Passepartout, he leaves London by train at 8.45
p.m. on October 2, 1872, and is due to be back at the Reform Club at the same time 80 days later,
on December 21.

Fogg and Passepartout reach Suez in time. While disembarking in Egypt, a Scotland Yard
detective named Fix begins to follow the duo. Mr. Fix has been dispatched from London in
search of a bank robber and because Fogg matches the description of the bank robber, Fix
mistakes him to be the criminal. Fix is unable to secure a warrant in time and goes on board the
steamer conveying the travelers to Bombay where he befriends Passepartout to find out more
about Fogg.

Map of the trip

Still on time, Fogg and Passepartout switch to the railway in Bombay, setting off for Calcutta,
Fix continues to follows them undercover. As it turns out, the construction of the railway is not
totally finished, this situation forces the two to get over the remaining gap between two stations
by riding an elephant, which Phileas Fogg purchases at the prodigious price of 2,000 pounds.
During the ride, they come across a suttee procession, in which a young Indian woman, Aouda, is
led to be sacrificed the next day by some tribals. The two travelers decide to rescue her.

After saving Aouda, the two then hasten to catch the train at the next railway station and take
Aouda along. At Calcutta, they rush to board a steamer going to Hong Kong. Fix, who had been
trying to capture Fogg, attempts to arrest him in Calcutta but fails; he hence continues to follow
them even in Hong Kong.
In Hong Kong, it turns out that Aouda's distant relative in whose care they had been planning to
leave her there, has moved, most likely to Holland, so they decide to take her with them to
Europe. Meanwhile, still without a warrant, Fix sees Hong Kong as his last chance to arrest Fogg
on British soil. He misinforms them about the schedule and timing of the vessel to Yokohama
and also confides in Passepartout about his master being a bank robber. Passepartout, as loyal as
one could be, does not believe a word and remains convinced that his master is not a cheat.

Fix attempts to prevent Passepartout from informing his master about him and his game plan. Fix
gets Passepartout drunk and drugs him. In his dizziness, Passepartout still manages to catch the
steamer to Yokohama, but is unable to inform Fogg, who hence misses the vessel.

On the next day Fogg and Aouda discover that they have missed their connection. Fogg searches
and finds an alternate vessel to take him to Yokohama. First he sails on a pilot to Shanghai and
from there catches a steamer to Yokohama. In Yokohama, they begin searching for Passepartout,
believing that he may have arrived there with the original connection. Left with no money or
means, Passpartout is found performing tricks in a circus, trying to earn his homeward journey.

Reunited, the four, board the steamer taking them across the Pacific to San Francisco. Fix
promises Passepartout that now, having left British soil, he will no longer try to delay Fogg's
journey and will rather support him in getting back to Britain as fast as possible (obviously to
have him arrested there).

In San Francisco, they get on the train to New York. During that trip, the train is attacked by
Native Americans, who take Passepartout and two other passengers as hostage. Fogg faces a
great dilemma. He could either continue his tour and earn the wager or go and rescue
Passepartout. He chooses the latter. Starting on a rescue mission with some soldiers of a nearby
fort he succeeds in freeing the hostages. And to make up for the lost time, Fogg and his
companions hire a sledge, which brings them to Omaha, Nebraska. They reach Nebraska just in
time to get on a train to Chicago, Illinois, and then another to New York. However, reaching New
York, they learn that the steamer for Liverpool that they were planning to catch has left a brief

Fogg starts looking for alternatives to cross over the Atlantic. He finds a small steamboat,
destined for Bordeaux. However, the captain of the boat refuses to take the company to
Liverpool, whereupon Fogg consents to be taken to Bordeaux. On the voyage, he bribes the crew
to mutiny whereupon the steamboat takes course for Liverpool. Going on full steam at all times,
the boat soon runs out of fuel. Captain argues with Fogg, who then buys the boat at a very high
price to soothe the captain. He then persuades the crew to burn all the wooden parts and keep up
the steam.

The companions arrive at Queens town, Ireland, in time to reach London via Dublin and
Liverpool before the deadline. However, once on British soil again, Fix produces a warrant and
arrests Fogg. But, a short while later the misunderstanding is cleared, the actual bank robber had
been caught several days earlier in Liverpool. In response to this, Fogg, in a rare moment of
impulse and insult, punches Fix, who immediately falls to the ground. Amidst this situation,
Fogg has missed the train and he returns to London five minutes late, assured that the wager has
been lost.

In his London house the next day, sharing his gloom with Aouda, he was reminded that he would
receive the wager if he went round the world in exact 80 days instead of 81 days. He also
apologizes to Aouda for bringing her with him, since he now has to live in poverty and cannot
financially support her. Aouda suddenly confesses that she loves him and asks him to marry her,
which he gladly accepts. He calls for Passepartout to notify the reverend. At the reverend's,
Passepartout learns that he is mistaken in the date. The day he takes to be Sunday actually is the
Saturday. They forgot to take into account the fact that because the party traveled east, they
gained a full day on their journey around the globe, by crossing the International Date Line.

Passepartout hurries back to Fogg, who immediately sets off for the Reform Club, where he
arrives just in time to win the wager. Thus ends the journey around the world in exactly 80 days.

2. Composed Upon Westminster Bridge

By William Wordsworth

Earth has not anything to show more fair:

Dull would he be of soul who could pass by
A sight so touching in its majesty:
This City now doth, like a garment, wear
The beauty of the morning; silent, bare,
Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie
Open unto the fields, and to the sky;
All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
Never did sun more beautifully steep
In his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill;
Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!
The river glideth at his own sweet will:
Dear God! the very houses seem asleep;
And all that mighty heart is lying still!


1. MEGHADOOTAM The Cloud messenger

-By Kalidasa (re-told by Megha Juneja)

Meghadootam (cloud messenger) is a lyrical poem written by Kalidasa. He is

considered to be one of the greatest Sanskrit poets in India. A poem of 111
stanzas, it is one of Kalidasas most illustrious works. The poem
Meghadootam is separated into two parts Purvamegha (Previous cloud) and
Uttaramegha (Consequent cloud)

Narrator:. According to the story, Kubera, treasurer to the Gods, possesses

a band of demi gods working for him, named the Yakshas. They can change
their form at will, take to the skies and fly where their fancy takes them,
become invisible and indulge in a variety of supernatural capers. One of
these Yakshas was so besotted and preoccupied with his wife that he
absolutely disregarded his duties. As a consequence, he was cursed and
banished into the thickness of earthly woods. Wholly de-moralized, he kept
thinking about his wife and felt her absence terribly. His wife also kept
reminiscing about him all day and all night.


Yaksha (to himself submerged in gloom): O my love! O my sweet love! My

life! Where are you? Alakapuri is so far and so are you. These distances
between us make me feel lost. I had not even said goodbye to you properly.
Oh my lovely wife separating you from me is the cruelest thing Kubera could
do to me. I long for your company my dear.

Narrator: Standing atop Ramagiri, looking at the overcast sky above him,
Yaksha began to feel lonelier.

Yaksha (to the northwards moving moisture-laden clouds): Hey mighty

moving clouds moving northwards- moving towards my home- closer to my
beloved who resides in Alakapuri. Wait for me! Take me along! I wish I could
race you and fly home with you.

While my entire city makes merry awaiting your arrival- the arrival of the first
rain- the coming rainy season, I miss all the fun. My heart longs for the fun
and gaiety. My lovely bride will also be grieving. How will she enjoy in my
absence! Take me along oh mighty clouds- take me along (sobbing).

I wish I hadnt neglected my duties. I wish my master wouldnt have felt so

displeased with me. Oh master Kubera, please forgive me. My world is dark
with my partner around.

Narrator: At that very instant, a huge, dark cloud came to rest on the
mountain peak. It looked like an elephant kneeling down on a river bank.
Upon seeing the majestic cloud, the yaksha felt a surge of hope.
Yaksha (to himself)- Why dont I send a message to my beloved through this
northward-bound cloud.

Narrator: He approached the cloud with an offering of flowers.

Yaksha: O mighty cloud capable of carrying immense quantities of water,

O noble relative of Pushkara (Note: In Hindu mythology, puSHkara is the
name of the cloud associated with the Deluge, or pralaya the great flood
that submerges the universe at the end of every cycle of four eras),
kAmarUpa (one who can assume any form), maghOnaha prakrti puruSHam
(the chief officer of Maghona, or Indra, the divine dispenser of rain), please
take a message from me to my wife! She lives in my house in Alaka, the
kingdom of the Lord of Wealth, Kubera.

Alaka, my beloved country, is perpetually aglow, lit up by the luminescent

crescent moon on Sivas head. Lord Siva (one of the Trinity of the Hindu
pantheon) lives in Kailasa, adjacent to Alaka. But, as hes a good friend of
my master, he spends much of his time in our gardens.

Our gardens are beautiful the trees bear fruit all the year around; the
roses and other flowers fill the place with fragrance; there are ponds and
tree-shaded walks; and a medley of bird sounds and the cries of the
peacocks are nectar to the ear. The woods are the home of sages who spend
all their time meditating on God.

I beg you to depart immediately, though I can see you and the mountain are
dear friends; in fact, on seeing you after the year-long separation, the
mountain shed hot tears. But the flamingos are waiting to fly with you, all the
way to Mount Kailas and Lake Manasa. They have already filled their beaks
with tender lotus stalks to see them through the long journey. So, do leave at
once and take a message from me to my wife.

Oh colossal cloud, the wives of the superhuman Siddas, who inhabit the
region between the earth and the sun, will see you and wonder if you are, in
fact, a mountain being carried off by the wind! Soar into the sky with your
face turned northwards, dear meghadoota. Im sure youll find the route to
Alaka most agreeable. Enroute, there are many mountains for you to rest on,
whenever you feel fatigued. There are also many rivers and streams for you
to drink from, whenever youre exhausted.

Narrator: The yaksha then proceeds to give detailed directions to the cloud
messenger on how to reach Alaka from Ramagiri, and in his minds eye, he
sees the journey taking shape.

Then languishing on Mount Kailash in the Himalayas, the Yaksha then

continues to describe the route the cloud should be taking in the northward
direction. The description is so enamouring and so pictorial, that one can
actually experience the scenes are flashing in front of the eyes in a vision.
The Yaksha makes the route seem as bewitching as possible, so that the
cloud takes his message to his wife, in the city of Alaka (according to Hindu
mythology, Alaka sometimes also referred to as Alakapuri, is a mythical city
in the Himalayas.).

2. Palanquin Bearers
By Sarojini Naidu

Lightly, O lightly we bear her along,

She sways like a flower in the wind of our song;
She skims like a bird on the foam of a stream,
She floats like a laugh from the lips of a dream.
Gaily, O gaily we glide and we sing,
We bear her along like a pearl on a string.

Softly, O softly we bear her along,

She hangs like a star in the dew of our song;
She springs like a beam on the brow of the tide,
She falls like a tear from the eyes of a bride.
Lightly, O lightly we glide and we sing,
We bear her along like a pearl on a string.


1. Anna Fidelia Quirot -- a real story

Ana Fidelia Quirot pumped her strong legs, puffed out her cheeks with each breath and tried to
chase down the bobbing blonde ponytail of Svetlana Masterkova, a 28-year-old Russian who was
unbeaten outdoors this year in the 800-meter race and who was not the sentimental favorite last
night at Centennial Olympic Stadium.

And for a while, in the last 100 meters or so, Quirot began to make up some ground. There was a
moment when it seemed she could have grabbed Masterkovas ponytail and pulled her back. But
that is not the way of runners. Masterkova was running more smoothly and was finally just

The Olympic gold medal in the womens 800 went to Masterkova in the relatively slow time of 1
minute, 57.73 seconds, more than four seconds off the world record of 1:53.28. Quirot, a 33-
year-old Cuban, settled for the silver in a time of 1:58.11, and pre-race favorite Maria Mutola of
Mozambique, who was slowed by a terrible cold, ended with the bronze in a time of 1:58.71.

That she didnt win didnt disappoint Quirot. She was a joyful presence watching Masterkova
sprint and leap around a victory lap, and she tearfully praised her country for allowing her to
recover her health. In 1993, Quirot was badly burned while cooking with kerosene at home. She
nearly lost her life, and she did lose her baby. After losing her will to live for a while, after being
afraid to be seen in public because of her scars, Quirot rediscovered the joy of living in her

Last night Quirot, who took Fidelia as her middle name in honor of Fidel Castro, returned to the
Olympics, she said, as a symbol of her countrys government. Its system of medicine saved her
life, she said, and its system of athletic training made her a champion. Sports made me start
training again, Quirot said. It would have been impossible for me to come back without sports.
If I had not run again, I believe I would have died, And when I started training again, that gave
me life.

I am forever thankful to Cuban medicine and for the Cuban revolution, for without the Cuban
revolution, my life would not have been saved. With all the drugs to pay for, with food to pay for
my family while they stayed with me at the hospital, that would have cost me millions of dollars,
which I didnt have. I am very proud to live in my country. It was a rousing speech and
heartfelt, and Quirot was crying as hard on the medal stand as Masterkova.

"Also your own duty demands that you should not hesitate, for Kshatriyas there is
nothing more fruitful than a battle fought in the path of duty.

O Arjuna, such Kshatriyas are very satisfied who get such a good opportunity to join a
war coming to them like an open door to heaven.

If you do not join this lawful battle, you shall fail in your duty and renown will not be
gained and you will commit sin."

--Bhagavad Gita

Kalaripayattu is the oldest existing martial art form, dating back more than
2000 years and said to be the forerunner of popularly known Chinese martial
arts, as the Buddhist monk Bodhidharma took this knowledge from India to

The practice of Kalaripayattu is said to originate from the Dhanur Vedic texts
encompassing all fighting arts and described by the Vishnu Purana as one of
the eighteen traditional branches of knowledge. Kalaris are the schools
where training in this martial art form is imparted by Gurukals or masters.

This martial art form is indigenous to the Southern Indian state of Kerala
which, legend has it, was created by the warrior saint Parasurama, an
incarnation of Lord Vishnu, by throwing his axe into the sea which receded till
the point where it fell. Parasurama then established forty-two kalaris and
taught twenty-one masters of these kalaris to protect the land he created.

Kalaripayattu is a traditional psycho-physiological discipline emanating from

Kerala's unique mytho-historical heritage as well as a scientific system of
physical culture training. The historical antecedents of this martial art form
combines indigenous Dravidian systems of martial practice such as 'varma
ati' or 'marma adi' with an influence of Aryan brahman culture which
migrated southwards down the west coast of India into Kerala. There are two
distinct traditions in Kalaripayattu-the Northern and the Southern schools.

In the Northern tradition the emphasis is laid on progressing from body

exercises to combat with weapons and last of all to unarmed combat. In the
Southern tradition the patron saint of Kalaripayattu is the sage Agastya
whose strength and and powers of meditation are legendary. It is said that
when the Lord Shiva married the Goddess Parvati at Kailasa in the North, all
gods and goddesses went to attend the wedding and with this shift in weight
the world tilted, so much so, that Agastya was sent to the South to restore
the balance.

Lord Rama, legend has it, was mentored by Agastya to acquire the weapons,
which defeated the demon king Ravana. In the southern tradition the
emphasis is primarily on footwork, movement and the ability to strike at vital
points or 'marmas' in the opponents body of which 108 points are considered
lethally vulnerable.

Kalaripayattu training is given free to every student. Those who are

interested must first register, and then places will be issued according to
availability. Spiritual Guidance can be received through Satsangs on
Thursday evenings, or by personal appointment with our Guru. There is no
charge, but appointments must be made in advance





Times Technical, January 28, 2015 at 4:56 pm

Whether it was after getting hooked on your first comic, taking a

college art class, or even idly doodling on your math book
instead of paying attention to your teacher, weve all
experimented with drawing. Unless youre one of the people that
can actually do it well, you likely gave up and moved on,
wondering how other humans can mix lines together to create
something both recognizable and aesthetically pleasing. If youre
illustrationally-challenged, your salvation may lie not with
humanity, but with robotics. A new robotic glove teaches you how
to draw by becoming training your muscle memory.
Copenhagen Institute of Interaction Design student Saurabh Datta
developed the glove as part of his thesis, initially as a way to
learn to play the piano. If his human hands couldnt learn, maybe
some robot hands could teach them and no, the robot hand
doesnt come from the Robot Devil, despite the startlingly
similar way the idea was conceived. Called Teacher, the glove-
like robot straps onto your hand and fingers, and guides you
through specific gestures over and over. If you do it enough,
your hand will learn how to do it through sheer muscle memory.
Obviously, this wont teach you instinct or how to transfer
something from your imagination to paper, but at the very least,
the theory is that itll teach you basics how to make
aesthetically pleasing lines.

Now, it only took Datta a week to build the rig. Its not exactly
the teacher after which its named, but instead represents the
way humans and robots can and do interact when working to achieve
the same goal. Despite being presented with the potential to
learn how to draw, Datta found that most participants didnt like
when the glove controlled the majority of the movement theyd
fight against the haptic feedback, and constantly readjust their
hand within the contraption to find a more comfortable position.
To fix the comfort issue, Datta recorded the fidgets made by the
testers, and then adjusted the machines force feedback to
account for them. In turn, this also helped the machine learn
about the way humans naturally move.

Dattas machines wont suddenly help you create the best page the
internet has ever known, but its essentially a proof-of-concept
for machines doing our learning for us.


Text-1: Suggested by Soorya, to be rewritten)

You hardheaded, dunderheaded, obstinate, rusty, crusty, musty, fusty, old

savage!" said I, in fancy, one afternoon, to my grand uncle Rumgudgeon
shaking my fist at him in imagination.

Only in imagination. The fact is, some trivial discrepancy did exist, just then,
between what I said and what I had not the courage to saybetween what I
did and what I had half a mind to do.

The old porpoise, as I opened the drawingroom door, was sitting with his
feet upon the mantelpiece, and a bumper of port in his paw, making
strenuous efforts to accomplish the ditty.

Remplis ton verre vide!

Vide ton verre plein!

"My dear uncle," said I, closing the door gently, and approaching him with
the blandest of smiles, "you are always so very kind and considerate, and
have evinced your benevolence in so manyso very many waysthatthat
I feel I have only to suggest this little point to you once more to make sure of
your full acquiescence."

"Hem!" said he, "good boy! go on!"

"I am sure, my dearest uncle (you confounded old rascal!), that you have no
design really, seriously, to oppose my union with Kate. This is merely a joke
of yours, I knowha! ha! ha!how very pleasant you are at times."

"Ha! ha! ha!" said he, "curse you! yes!"

"To be sureof course! I knew you were jesting. Now, uncle, all that Kate and
myself wish at present, is that you would oblige us with your advice asas
regards the timeyou know, unclein short, when will it be most convenient
for yourself, that the wedding shallshall come off, you know?"

"Come off, you scoundrel!what do you mean by that?Better wait till it

goes on."

"Ha! ha! ha!he! he! he!hi! hi! hi!ho! ho! ho!hu! hu! hu!that's good!
oh that's capitalsuch a wit! But all we want just now, you know, uncle, is
that you would indicate the time precisely."


"Yes, unclethat is, if it would be quite agreeable to yourself."

"Wouldn't it answer, Bobby, if I were to leave it at randomsome time within

a year or so, for example?must I say precisely?"

"If you please, uncleprecisely."

"Well, then, Bobby, my boyyou're a fine fellow, aren't you?since you will
have the exact time I'llwhy I'll oblige you for once:"

"Dear uncle!"

"Hush, sir!" (drowning my voice)"I'll oblige you for once. You shall have my
consentand the plum, we mus'n't forget the plumlet me see! when shall
it be? Today's Sundayisn't it? Well, then, you shall be married precisely
precisely, now mind!when three Sundays come together in a week! Do you
hear me, sir! What are you gaping at? I say, you shall have Kate and her
plum when three Sundays come together in a weekbut not till thenyou
young scapegracenot till then, if I die for it. You know meI'm a man of my
wordnow be off!" Here he swallowed his bumper of port, while I rushed
from the room in despair.

A very "fine old English gentleman," was my granduncle Rumgudgeon, but

unlike him of the song, he had his weak points. He was a little, pursy,
pompous, passionate semicircular somebody, with a red nose, a thick scull,
(sic) a long purse, and a strong sense of his own consequence. With the best
heart in the world, he contrived, through a predominant whim of
contradiction, to earn for himself, among those who only knew him
superficially, the character of a curmudgeon. Like many excellent people, he
seemed possessed with a spirit of tantalization, which might easily, at a
casual glance, have been mistaken for malevolence. To every request, a
positive "No!" was his immediate answer, but in the endin the long, long
endthere were exceedingly few requests which he refused. Against all
attacks upon his purse he made the most sturdy defence; but the amount
extorted from him, at last, was generally in direct ratio with the length of the
siege and the stubbornness of the resistance. In charity no one gave more
liberally or with a worse grace.

For the fine arts, and especially for the belleslettres, he entertained a
profound contempt. With this he had been inspired by Casimir Perier, whose
pert little query "A quoi un poete est il bon?" he was in the habit of quoting,
with a very droll pronunciation, as the ne plus ultra of logical wit. Thus my
own inkling for the Muses had excited his entire displeasure. He assured me
one day, when I asked him for a new copy of Horace, that the translation of
"Poeta nascitur non fit" was "a nasty poet for nothing fit"a remark which I
took in high dudgeon. His repugnance to "the humanities" had, also, much
increased of late, by an accidental bias in favor of what he supposed to be
natural science. Somebody had accosted him in the street, mistaking him for
no less a personage than Doctor Dubble L. Dee, the lecturer upon quack
physics. This set him off at a tangent; and just at the epoch of this storyfor
story it is getting to be after allmy granduncle Rumgudgeon was
accessible and pacific only upon points which happened to chime in with the
caprioles of the hobby he was riding. For the rest, he laughed with his arms
and legs, and his politics were stubborn and easily understood. He thought,
with Horsley, that "the people have nothing to do with the laws but to obey
I had lived with the old gentleman all my life. My parents, in dying, had
bequeathed me to him as a rich legacy. I believe the old villain loved me as
his own childnearly if not quite as well as he loved Katebut it was a dog's
existence that he led me, after all. From my first year until my fifth, he
obliged me with very regular floggings. From five to fifteen, he threatened
me, hourly, with the House of Correction. From fifteen to twenty, not a day
passed in which he did not promise to cut me off with a shilling. I was a sad
dog, it is truebut then it was a part of my naturea point of my faith. In
Kate, however, I had a firm friend, and I knew it. She was a good girl, and
told me very sweetly that I might have her (plum and all) whenever I could
badger my granduncle Rumgudgeon, into the necessary consent. Poor girl!
she was barely fifteen, and without this consent, her little amount in the
funds was not comeatable until five immeasurable summers had "dragged
their slow length along." What, then, to do? At fifteen, or even at twentyone
(for I had now passed my fifth olympiad) five years in prospect are very
much the same as five hundred. In vain we besieged the old gentleman with
importunities. Here was a piece de resistance (as Messieurs Ude and Careme
would say) which suited his perverse fancy to a T. It would have stiffed the
indignation of Job himself, to see how much like an old mouser he behaved
to us two poor wretched little mice. In his heart he wished for nothing more
ardently than our union. He had made up his mind to this all along. In fact,
he would have given ten thousand pounds from his own pocket (Kate's plum
was her own) if he could have invented any thing like an excuse for
complying with our very natural wishes. But then we had been so imprudent
as to broach the subject ourselves. Not to oppose it under such
circumstances, I sincerely believe, was not in his power.

I have said already that he had his weak points; but in speaking of these, I
must not be understood as referring to his obstinacy: which was one of his
strong points"assurement ce n' etait pas sa foible." When I mention his
weakness I have allusion to a bizarre oldwomanish superstition which beset
him. He was great in dreams, portents, et id genus omne of rigmarole. He
was excessively punctilious, too, upon small points of honor, and, after his
own fashion, was a man of his word, beyond doubt. This was, in fact, one of
his hobbies. The spirit of his vows he made no scruple of setting at naught,
but the letter was a bond inviolable. Now it was this latter peculiarity in his
disposition, of which Kates ingenuity enabled us one fine day, not long after
our interview in the diningroom, to take a very unexpected advantage, and,
having thus, in the fashion of all modern bards and orators, exhausted in
prolegomena, all the time at my command, and nearly all the room at my
disposal, I will sum up in a few words what constitutes the whole pith of the

It happened thenso the Fates ordered itthat among the naval

acquaintances of my betrothed, were two gentlemen who had just set foot
upon the shores of England, after a year's absence, each, in foreign travel. In
company with these gentlemen, my cousin and I, preconcertedly paid uncle
Rumgudgeon a visit on the afternoon of Sunday, October the tenth,just
three weeks after the memorable decision which had so cruelly defeated our
hopes. For about half an hour the conversation ran upon ordinary topics, but
at last, we contrived, quite naturally, to give it the following turn:

CAPT. PRATT. "Well I have been absent just one year.Just one year today,
as I livelet me see! yes!this is October the tenth. You remember, Mr.
Rumgudgeon, I called, this day year to bid you goodbye. And by the way, it
does seem something like a coincidence, does it notthat our friend, Captain
Smitherton, here, has been absent exactly a year alsoa year today!"

SMITHERTON. "Yes! just one year to a fraction. You will remember, Mr.
Rumgudgeon, that I called with Capt. Pratol on this very day, last year, to
pay my parting respects."

UNCLE. "Yes, yes, yesI remember it very wellvery queer indeed! Both of
you gone just one year. A very strange coincidence, indeed! Just what Doctor
Dubble L. Dee would denominate an extraordinary concurrence of events.
Doctor Dub"

KATE. (Interrupting.) "To be sure, papa, it is something strange; but then

Captain Pratt and Captain Smitherton didn't go altogether the same route,
and that makes a difference, you know."

UNCLE. "I don't know any such thing, you huzzy! How should I? I think it only
makes the matter more remarkable, Doctor Dubble L. Dee"

KATE. "Why, papa, Captain Pratt went round Cape Horn, and Captain
Smitherton doubled the Cape of Good Hope."

UNCLE. "Precisely!the one went east and the other went west, you jade,
and they both have gone quite round the world. By the by, Doctor Dubble L.
MYSELF. (Hurriedly.) "Captain Pratt, you must come and spend the evening
with us tomorrowyou and Smithertonyou can tell us all about your
voyage, and well have a game of whist and"

PRATT. "Wist, my dear fellowyou forget. Tomorrow will be Sunday. Some

other evening"

KATE. "Oh, no, fie!Robert's not quite so bad as that. Today's Sunday."

PRATT. "I beg both your pardonsbut I can't be so much mistaken. I know to
morrow's Sunday, because"

SMITHERTON. (Much surprised.) "What are you all thinking about? Wasn't
yesterday, Sunday, I should like to know?"

ALL. "Yesterday indeed! you are out!"

UNCLE. "Todays Sunday, I saydon't I know?"

PRATT. "Oh no!tomorrow's Sunday."

SMITHERTON. "You are all madevery one of you. I am as positive that

yesterday was Sunday as I am that I sit upon this chair."

KATE. (jumping up eagerly.) "I see itI see it all. Papa, this is a judgment
upon you, aboutabout you know what. Let me alone, and I'll explain it all in
a minute. It's a very simple thing, indeed. Captain Smitherton says that
yesterday was Sunday: so it was; he is right. Cousin Bobby, and uncle and I
say that today is Sunday: so it is; we are right. Captain Pratt maintains that
tomorrow will be Sunday: so it will; he is right, too. The fact is, we are all
right, and thus three Sundays have come together in a week."

SMITHERTON. (After a pause.) "By the by, Pratt, Kate has us completely. What
fools we two are! Mr. Rumgudgeon, the matter stands thus: the earth, you
know, is twentyfour thousand miles in circumference. Now this globe of the
earth turns upon its own axisrevolvesspins roundthese twentyfour
thousand miles of extent, going from west to east, in precisely twentyfour
hours. Do you understand Mr. Rumgudgeon?"

UNCLE. "To be sureto be sureDoctor Dub"

SMITHERTON. (Drowning his voice.) "Well, sir; that is at the rate of one
thousand miles per hour. Now, suppose that I sail from this position a
thousand miles east. Of course I anticipate the rising of the sun here at
London by just one hour. I see the sun rise one hour before you do.
Proceeding, in the same direction, yet another thousand miles, I anticipate
the rising by two hoursanother thousand, and I anticipate it by three hours,
and so on, until I go entirely round the globe, and back to this spot, when,
having gone twentyfour thousand miles east, I anticipate the rising of the
London sun by no less than twentyfour hours; that is to say, I am a day in
advance of your time. Understand, eh?"

UNCLE. "But Double L. Dee"

SMITHERTON. (Speaking very loud.) "Captain Pratt, on the contrary, when he

had sailed a thousand miles west of this position, was an hour, and when he
had sailed twentyfour thousand miles west, was twentyfour hours, or one
day, behind the time at London. Thus, with me, yesterday was Sundaythus,
with you, today is Sundayand thus, with Pratt, tomorrow will be Sunday.
And what is more, Mr. Rumgudgeon, it is positively clear that we are all right;
for there can be no philosophical reason assigned why the idea of one of us
should have preference over that of the other."

UNCLE. "My eyes!well, Katewell, Bobby!this is a judgment upon me, as

you say. But I am a man of my wordmark that! you shall have her, boy,
(plum and all), when you please. Done up, by Jove! Three Sundays all in a
row! I'll go, and take Dubble L. Dee's opinion upon that."




Will you walk into my parlor? said the Spider to the Fly,
Tis the prettiest little parlor that ever you did spy;
The way into my parlor is up a winding stair,
And I have many curious things to show when you are there.
Oh, no, no, said the little Fly, to ask me is in vain;
For who goes up your winding stair can neer come down again.

Im sure you must be weary, dear, with soaring up so high;

Will you rest upon my little bed? said the Spider to the Fly.
There are pretty curtains drawn around, the sheets are fine and thin;
And if you like to rest a while, Ill snugly tuck you in!
Oh, no, no, said the little Fly, for Ive often heard it said,
They never, never wake again, who sleep upon your bed!

Said the cunning Spider to the Fly, Dear friend, what can I do
To prove the warm affection Ive always felt for you?
I have, within my pantry, good store of all thats nice;
Im sure youre very welcomewill you please to take a slice?
Oh, no, no, said the little Fly, kind sir, that cannot be,
Ive heard whats in your pantry, and I do not wish to see!

Sweet creature, said the Spider, youre witty and youre wise;
How handsome are your gauzy wings, how brilliant are your eyes!
I have a little looking-glass upon my parlor shelf;
If youll step in one moment, dear, you shall behold yourself.
I thank you, gentle sir, she said, for what youre pleased to say,
And bidding you good morning now, Ill call another day.

The Spider turned him round about, and went into his den,
For well he knew the silly Fly would soon be back again;
So he wove a subtle web in a little corner sly,
And set his table ready to dine upon the Fly.
Then he came out to his door again, and merrily did sing:
Come hither, hither, pretty Fly, with the pearl and silver wing;
Your robes are green and purple, theres a crest upon your head;
Your eyes are like the diamond bright, but mine are dull as lead.

Alas, alas! how very soon this silly little Fly,

Hearing his wily, flattering words, came slowly flitting by:
With buzzing wings she hung aloft, then near and nearer drew
Thinking only of her brilliant eyes, and green and purple hue;
Thinking only of her crested headpoor foolish thing! At last,
Up jumped the cunning Spider, and fiercely held her fast.
He dragged her up his winding stair, into his dismal den
Within his little parlorbut she neer came out again!


Text-1: KING LEAR (Suggested by Soorya to be rewritten)

King Lear was old and tired. He was aweary of the business of his kingdom,
and wished only to end his days quietly near his three daughters. Two of his
daughters were married to the Dukes of Albany and Cornwall; and the Duke
of Burgundy and the King of France were both suitors for the hand of
Cordelia, his youngest daughter.

Lear called his three daughters together, and told them that he proposed to
divide his kingdom between them. "But first," said he, "I should like to know
much you love me."

Goneril, who was really a very wicked woman, and did not love her father at
all, said she loved him more than words could say; she loved him dearer than
eyesight, space or liberty, more than life, grace, health, beauty, and honor.

"I love you as much as my sister and more," professed Regan, "since I care
for nothing but my father's love."

Lear was very much pleased with Regan's professions, and turned to his
youngest daughter, Cordelia. "Now, our joy, though last not least," he said,
"the best part of my kingdom have I kept for you. What can you say?"

"Nothing, my lord," answered Cordelia.

"Nothing can come of nothing. Speak again," said the King.

And Cordelia answered, "I love your Majesty according to my duty--no more,
no less."

And this she said, because she was disgusted with the way in which her
sisters professed love, when really they had not even a right sense of duty to
their old father.

"I am your daughter," she went on, "and you have brought me up and loved
me, and I return you those duties back as are right and fit, obey you, love
you, and most honor you."

Lear, who loved Cordelia best, had wished her to make more extravagant
professions of love than her sisters. "Go," he said, "be for ever a stranger to
my heart and me."

The Earl of Kent, one of Lear's favorite courtiers and captains, tried to say a
word for Cordelia's sake, but Lear would not listen. He divided the kingdom
between Goneril and Regan, and told them that he should only keep a
hundred knights at arms, and would live with his daughters by turns.
When the Duke of Burgundy knew that Cordelia would have no share of the
kingdom, he gave up his courtship of her. But the King of France was wiser,
and said, "Thy dowerless daughter, King, is Queen of us--of ours, and our fair

"Take her, take her," said the King; "for I will never see that face of hers

So Cordelia became Queen of France, and the Earl of Kent, for having
ventured to take her part, was banished from the kingdom. The King now
went to stay with his daughter Goneril, who had got everything from her
father that he had to give, and now began to grudge even the hundred
knights that he had reserved for himself. She was harsh and undutiful to him,
and her servants either refused to obey his orders or pretended that they did
not hear them.

Now the Earl of Kent, when he was banished, made as though he would go
into another country, but instead he came back in the disguise of a
servingman and took service with the King. The King had now two friends--
the Earl of Kent, whom he only knew as his servant, and his Fool, who was
faithful to him. Goneril told her father plainly that his knights only served to
fill her Court with riot and feasting; and so she begged him only to keep a
few old men about him such as himself.

"My train are men who know all parts of duty," said Lear. "Goneril, I will not
trouble you further--yet I have left another daughter."

And his horses being saddled, he set out with his followers for the castle of
Regan. But she, who had formerly outdone her sister in professions of
attachment to the King, now seemed to outdo her in undutiful conduct,
saying that fifty knights were too many to wait on him, and Goneril (who had
hurried thither to prevent Regan showing any kindness to the old King) said
five were too many, since her servants could wait on him.

Then when Lear saw that what they really wanted was to drive him away, he
left them. It was a wild and stormy night, and he wandered about the heath
half mad with misery, and with no companion but the poor Fool. But
presently his servant, the good Earl of Kent, met him, and at last persuaded
him to lie down in a wretched little hovel. At daybreak the Earl of Kent
removed his royal master to Dover, and hurried to the Court of France to tell
Cordelia what had happened.
Cordelia's husband gave her an army and with it she landed at Dover. Here
she found poor King Lear, wandering about the fields, wearing a crown of
nettles and weeds. They brought him back and fed and clothed him, and
Cordelia came to him and kissed him.

"You must bear with me," said Lear; "forget and forgive. I am old and foolish."

And now he knew at last which of his children it was that had loved him best,
and who was worthy of his love.

Goneril and Regan joined their armies to fight Cordelia's army, and were
successful; and Cordelia and her father were thrown into prison. Then
Goneril's husband, the Duke of Albany, who was a good man, and had not
known how wicked his wife was, heard the truth of the whole story; and
when Goneril found that her husband knew her for the wicked woman she
was, she killed herself, having a little time before given a deadly poison to
her sister, Regan, out of a spirit of jealousy.

But they had arranged that Cordelia should be hanged in prison, and though
the Duke of Albany sent messengers at once, it was too late. The old King
came staggering into the tent of the Duke of Albany, carrying the body of his
dear daughter Cordelia, in his arms.

And soon after, with words of love for her upon his lips, he fell with her still in
his arms, and died.


The Village Blacksmith

- By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Under a spreading chestnut tree

The village smithy stands;
The Smith, a mighty man is he,
With large and sinewy hands;
And the muscles of his brawny arms
Are strong as iron bands.

His hair is crisp, and black, and long,

His face is like the tan;
His brow is wet with honest sweat,
He earns whate'er he can
And looks the whole world in the face
For he owes not any man.

Week in, week out, from morn till night,

You can hear his bellows blow;
You can hear him swing his heavy sledge,
With measured beat and slow,
Like a sexton ringing the village bell,
When the evening sun is low.

And children coming home from school

Look in at the open door;
They love to see the flaming furge,
And hear the bellows roar,
And catch the burning sparks that fly
Like chaff from a threshing floor.

He goes on Sunday to the church

and sits among his boys;
He hears the parson pray and preach.
He hears his daughter's voice
singing in the village choir,
And it makes his heart rejoice.

It sounds to him like her mother's voice,

Singing in Paradise!
He needs must think of her once more,
How in the grave she lies;
And with his hard, rough hand he wipes
A tear out of his eyes.

Onward through life he goes;
Each morning sees some task begin,
Each evening sees it close;
Something attempted, something done,
Has earned a night's repose.
Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend
For the lesson thou hast taught!
Thus at the flaming forge of life
Our fortunes must be wrought;
Thus on its sounding anvil shaped
Each burning deed and thought!