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Issue 9

Issue 9

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Published by Ankit Purohit

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Published by: Ankit Purohit on Nov 16, 2011
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial


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Career Launcher 1
Tapra Chronicles
 Bhangi and HeMan take it to newer heights.. Read their conversation inthe Kha-Mat section…
Page 6
Editor’s Pick 
 Find A Selection Of Gadgets, Books, Websites, Movies &Music, exclusively handpicked  By the editors of THE EDUCRATS 
Featured This WeekA Fortnightly Newsletter Issue # 9 - November 1-15,2011
 In my childhood,every morning I  sat upon my porch and looked across the street to the lone tree…
Page 2
An Untold Saga
The cool breeze once again greeted me with full force, as I was standing on the top of my favorite hill …
Page 2
Meri Darshika
Mat pucho mujhse meritasweer kya hai…
Page 3
After a short break here comes a fresh issue of The Educrats with a fresh look, with a new editorial team and a wholly revamped look that promises to make up for all that youmissed. In pen route this time are the award- winning entries of Quill Spill, an untold sagaof a kashmiri girl through the words of shikhashah and the agony of being not-so-poeticironically through a poem by neerja andmeenakshi. Sonika Madhav’s Meri Darshikaasks the viewer to..well see for yourself! Alsofind out how a tree could be a source of inspiration for someone and get a closer view of how CAT can be a worthwhile experiencethrough the words of Sonia Bhargava, a CATtaker herself.Culture-vulture takes youthrough the mind blowing ragsto riches story of a life lifechanging game show and allthat buzz about it that has beentrending past few weeks.Editor’s pick comes up with anew section with our specialcorrespondent, Foodie, on thehunt for a new and unknowneating joints, especially if  you’re hard-pressed for money and still want to experience thetaste of some lip-smacking dishes. Yet again your favorite,“tapra-chronicles” brings to you another set of excerptsstraight from the trio HeMan, Bhangi and Lomad. In theend it is yours to decide what you think of the revampedlook.Happy reading..!
-Vincent Van Gogh
Career Launcher 2
Pen Route
 An Untold Saga
-Shikha Shah
don’t fulfill their demands, brought shiverto my spines. Recent happenings hadfurther daunted my spirit of living. Zara,my beloved Zara had died mysteriously.Her body was recovered from the forest,three days after she was reported missing.Her body was half-naked, ripped at severalplaces & her last expression wasundoubtedly that of terror. It felt as if, I wasdead, buried along with her, all theenthusiasm & the verve of living that,sometime back was an integral part of mypersonality, was all gone. Now, I am justsurviving. Sept 27th, one full month afterZara’s Funeral, I am still struggling with mylife, coercively alive. The Army has shiftedits base from Rajouri to elsewhere. Ireturned home, rather early, skipping myfavorite spot as it strongly reminded me of Zara. Now, she has started appearing in mysubconscious mind urging to punish herwrong-doers making it even worse. I wentto bed after a quiet dinner to fight withsleep and push Zara’s memories away.The peace of that night was suddenlythreatened by loud husky voices. They weresomewhere very close, as I could feel them.Suddenly Ammi screamed! I ran towardsher, stumbling twice on my way , saw Abbuand Iqbal (my younger brother) dumpingeverything they could find at the threshold.Outside, the restlessness of Terrorists toforce their way inside was pretty clear fromtheir baffled voices. My Ammi gave me agrave look as I went to stand beside her. Shedragged me to the cot, pushed me beneathit & covered it with unwashed clothes. Thenext thing I remember is my door blastingapart, with its pieces flying everywhere & amasked man stepping inside, having themost deadly yellow eyes I’d ever seen in mywhole life. He was accompanied by his 5subordinates ready to kill at his command.Without even uttering a word, one of hissubordinate straightaway started thrashingIqbal & took on Ammi when sheinterrupted. One of them was holding Abbuand Abbu was trying with his every strengthto break-free, regularly abusing. The leadermade his way towards Abbu but wassuddenly halted by my torn photographlying on the floor. He picked it up andpointed as my Abbu’s face & said, “That’sasensuous daughter you possess, what wouldyou do of her? entrust her to me .I’ll takefull care of her.!” My Abbu denied mypresence & lied that I was at myGrandparent’s. He gave a ruthless laugh &shouted,” That’s a nice try! ,but I am not afool, your face clearly tells that you areLying Quickly surrender her to me, & I willhandsomely reward you.” At this point Ieven considered showing myself up &saving my family from the agony. But wasstopped by my Abbu’s reaction. Heshuddered and shook his head refusing togive away anything. This irritated the leaderand he shot a bullet aiming at Abbu’s leg,”Tell me you Scoundrel! Where have uhidden her?? Nobody says no to me!!”&then he stepped on my lying Abbu’s openwound pressing it hard against the floorwith his spike shoes. Abbu was squealingwith pain, with blood oozing out like waterflows out from a fountain. The Monster wasclearly reveling in hurting Abbu!I don’t know what struck me at thismoment, all I remember is that I launchedmyself holding something in my hand onhim, cutting and ripping every part of hisbody not stopping until his yellow eyesrelinquished. I snatched his Ak-47 & threwit to my brother who shot 2 of hissubordinates, watching everythingdumbstruck. I, with another rifle in myhand injured the other two forcing them toflee. This was my first experience withGuns, let aside AK-47.We half-carried, half dragged Abbu to the nearby Police Station,some 4 kmts away regularly firing bullet inthe air to keep the terrorist away.Today as I am writing this, months after theincident, sitting in my new house at Delhi,feeling very secured in ‘Z’ level securityprovided to me by the Central Governmentafter Lashkar-e-Toiba announced a sum of 6 lakhs on my head, dead or alive,i stillshudder at the memories of thathorrendous day. I suddenly became acelebrity after that incident, Media pushingeach other for a 10th grade dropout seemsstrange. Government and Religious Groups
A Fortnightly Newsletter Issue # 4 - July 15-31,2011
A Fortnightly Newsletter Issue # 9 - November 1-15,2011
The cool breeze once again greeted mewith full force, as I was standing on thetop of my favorite hill, arms fullystretched ,letting the gentle windcomfort every part of my aching body .Iwas always overwhelmed by this, ’Myregular escape from the real world intothe world of Fantasies. ’The windscarried me to a distant place, away fromthe harsh realities, promising peace ,free from gun-fires and bombings.Where I could fly in the sky, dance inthe rain and do whatever my heartpleases. My day-dream was broken bythe sound of bullet coming from a nearmilitary camp, stations very close to myhouse, in ‘Rajouri ’ District ,20 milesfrom ceasefire line between India andPakistan, also very near to the denseforest popularly coined as the ‘abode of Aatankis’. Abbu detested these militarypeople, said,” They are cruel and selfish,can never understand a Kashmiri.” ButI have always found myself smitten bytheir fearless attitude. My day began at5 in the morning .I, along with Zara, mybest friend, walked to the forest tocollect my day’s firewood for selling inthe local market, later, to earnsomething to support my family. Ourfinancial condition had worsened afterlosing our only house to bombings.Occasionally, when the income’s tight,we sleep half stomach. Zarasays,”Government will support”, butour situation is still the same. Besidesall the hardships and miseries, Icouldn’t get over the constant fear of losing one of us. The thought of terrorists banging at my door for foodand shelter, and shooting one of us if we
Career Launcher 
* *
In my childhood, every morning I sat uponmy porch and looked across the street to thelone tree that stood on the hill. There wereother trees nearby, but they all had close treeneighbors, none stood alone, save this one.It was mighty and majestic, overshadowedthe hillside with its girth and height. Itsleaves provided shade for the cattle thatresided within the confines of the fencebelow. It was a lone warrior facing elementsalone, looking nature in the eye andremaining strong in the face of what maycome it's way. In the winter its brancheswere bare and covered in ice, leading you tothink that when springtime came it wouldfail to return to its former splendor. Whenspring storms came the winds wailed againstit taking a few branches hostage to theirbitter fury, yet it remained. Steadfast andsure, secure in the knowledge that it'sfoundation was firm. Once when the floodsof spring overtook the hillside, nearlyreaching the road and covering the base of the tree with its furious rushing water. Thetree remained.I wish to be like that tree. Strong andconfident in the knowledge that I knowwhere I place my trust. Knowing that myroots are firmly planted in the soil and it willnot shift on me, regardless of what risesagainst me. I find balance in that tree. Mycenter of self, reminders of the God I serveand His loving hand upon my life, even if itseems that the enemy has won. To bend andsway with the winds of storms and to riseabove the waters of floods and still remainvibrant and healthy, despite the odds I face.It is my focal point on a hectic day, visiblenight or day. It's presence keeping me in line
A Fortnightly Newsletter Issue # 4 - July 15-31,2011
A Fortnightly Newsletter Issue # 6 - August 15-31,2011
A Fortnightly Newsletter Issue # 7 - September 1-
A Fortnightly Newsletter Issue # 9 - November 1-15,2011
Meri Darshika…
- Sonika Madhav
gallant act. Yes, I have been attackedafter that day, twice here in Delhi. Theyare not giving up, neither am I! I hopeZara’s soul rests in peace as she hasstopped appearing in my dreams afterthat fateful day. Honestly, I am not afraidanymore. But yes, I miss my favoritespot, especially the comforting breezethat still has the power of healing myUnseen Wounds.
*Inspired by the true story of 
with what I know to be true. Thattomorrow is not promised so today I mustfight. I must overcome all that comes nearme and rise above the trials I face. Toglow in the beauty of my joy and splendorregardless of the storm that rages aroundme. To never let the enemy see me sweat,though he may bend me or wound me hewill not overtake me. I will stand witharms held high and give praise to theFather for creating me. For it is in themoments of praise that we find ourselveslifted to the shelter of his love andprotected. Through this tree I have learnedpatience when I want to scream, peacewhen the world is tossed around me, andthe ability to stand when it seems I wouldbe knocked down. All in the simple act of lifting my branches to heaven and givinghonor where honor is due.

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