ONAM

THIRUVONAM 2020

Onam is the harvest festival of Kerala. It reminds us the beauty and importance of our green state, KERALA, my homeland. Though, the 2020 Onam was in the middle of Corona pandemic time, the colour of the festival didn't fade. Even though we were all sitting at home without going out for fun, we celebrated Onam with much love and hugs of our Family. We prepared an elegant floral carpet (pookalam) and a splendid feast (onasadya) containing more than 10 dishes. The festival also reminded of the maveli, oonjaal, thiruvaathira, onathallu, pulikali and vallamkali.

""HAPPY ONAM""

MY FAMILY

Pearls of Home

Family makes a home complete.
In our family, 1) we can speak out 2) we can chill & enjoy 3) we can shed our tears 4) we can release our anger 5) we can do whatever we like 6) we can flourish our best hobby 7) we can enjoy everything we like 8) we can have any dish and
any dress 9) we can
debate and
raise our
opinion
10) we can
follow our
ideologies
and so on. Here are some photos
of my beloved family.

NEW YEAR 2020

HAPPY NEW YEAR - 2020

Let me announce 📢 that,

           I have become,

           Ms. Greshma Clement M.A., NET

I thank God Almighty, parents, teachers, sibling, grand parents, friends, neighbours, family relatives and other kith and kins. It's your guidance, prayer and help that made me what I am now. Thank you so much for all your efforts and thank you myself for working hard towards the goal with determination.

🎤🙋📝📚

Pencil Sketch - Peter Handke

Portrait of 

Peter Handke

Nobel Laureate (Literature) - 2019

 

I did this pencil sketching of Peter Handke.

He is an Austrian novelist, playwright and translator.

His famous works are:

• The Goalkeeper's Fear of the Penalty
• A Sorrow Beyond Dreams

. . . . .

. . .

.

WORKBOOK - (B.Ed)

KERALA READER
ENGLISH - PART I


UNIT - 1

Nature’s Plenty

Chapter 1

How Far is the River?

Summary:

Ruskin Bond’s short story “How far is the River” is taken from a volume of his collection. The short story reflects the writer’s understanding of the psychology of a 12-year-old boy who longs to go out and explore Nature. Between the boy and the river stood a mountain. The boy was young and the river was small but the mountain was high. The mountain concealed the river and so the boy had never seen the river but had heard a great deal about it, of the fish in its waters, of its rocks and currents and waterfalls. The boy felt a great desire to touch the water of the river and ‘know it personally’. This short story deals with an unnamed twelve-year-old boy, a sturdy boy with untidy black hair and shining eyes, sharp features and a clear brown skin. How he undertakes a long and arduous walk to locate the river in the absence of his parents in the house that day forms the plot of the short story. As he walks towards the river, he meets woodcutters, milkman and mule drivers. Unfortunately, the boy is not able to get clear directions about the river and its exact location. But he still continues to walk, suddenly he encounters a village boy who smiled in a friendly way and told him that the river was not very far away. They have lunch together, and then walk for some time. Soon his companions had to diverge along another path and the boy was again on his own. He felt tired, lonely, miserable and hungry and tempted to return to his house. But if he failed he would always be ashamed of the experience. Finally, to his great delight the boy heard a sudden roaring sound, the sound of the river. It tumbled over rocks and the boy gasped and ran towards it. Although he slipped and tumbled, he still ran forward. Then he was ankle deep in the bitter cold mountain water which was blue and white and wonderful. At last the boy fulfilled his dream. The conclusion is abrupt and leaves the reader to draw

his /her own conclusion.

AUTHOR

ACTIVITY 1

Here are the thoughts of a boy after his nature-walk. Help him fill up the gaps of his thoughts with suitable words.

        Recently, I visited a …………, the magnificent Munnar.

          It is famous for its …………… estates, exotic lush greenery 

         and craggy peaks. And it is …………. in the Western Ghats, 

         in the state of …………. For a moment, I wondered whether 

          I was in heaven. Really, Munnar is a land of paradise.

ACTIVITY 2

You have read the story, “How Far is the River?”, haven’t you? Now, try to remember the story and complete the given word-puzzle with the words from the story using the clues given below.

B		R		F			T
			D			T			R
H		S		T				O
	O			L				S	S

 CLUES

Row 1: Wearing nothing on the feet.

Row 2: Person who cuts down trees.

Row 3: Doubt or reluctance.

Row 4: Isolation or lack of friends.

ACTIVITY 3

In association with World Nature Conservation Day (July 28), your school Nature Club plans to conduct a rally. For the rally you have to make some placards. So pick out suitable slogans from table given below and prepare a few placards.

       

BOX OF SLOGANS

Do not cut trees.

Do not litter.

Do not waste water.

Save animals.

ACTIVITY 4

Read the description about the path in the story, “How far is the river?”.

The path was steep, and the boy had to run most of the time. It was a dizzy, winding path, and he slipped once or twice. The hill was covered with lush green ferns, the trees were wound in creepers, and a great wild dahlia suddenly reared its golden head from the leaves and ferns.

Write down the words used to describe the path?

1)    ………………………………………….

2)    ………………………………………….

3)    …………………………………………

LIFE - (2)

Absurdity of Meaningless Life

I don't understand the meaning in life.

I always feel there is only a vacuumness, an unfillable emptiness.

I don't know what to write. ... Even my words are keeping a distance from me. I had only words as my friends, my feelings-sharing companions. Now as they are not with me, I feel lonely. ... I feel lost. ...

When I feel tired or if I want to turn away my mind from concerning about various physical aches, I watch some movies, especially the ones that deal with love at the midst of wars ... even though both war and love are matters of my hatred. ... Well, in spite of the truth that those movies provide me a sort of transient silent pleasure to my nerves, in the rest of the hours, I feel completely empty and most often I am troubled by the thought that why I live as a corpse.

Sometimes, my impulses carry me to the world of my talent to ease my mind. As I am a realist cum fantasy writer, thoughts of imaginary flesh and bone characters come to mind and provoke me to jot those thoughts down as plots.

If I have ample time I will either record or I will write my thoughts down in whatever sheets available, as I do now. This act is one among the things which give me happiness and moreover, ... confidence. But confidence in what? That might be the question. I know. ... Well, I feel confident in myself. I feel like I am born with a purpose ... with a load of responsibilities, towards nature, family, society and towards the world at large. Also I feel, I have the caliber to perform my duties with vigour and whole-heartedness. And I see as a vision where I do full justice to my life and soul.

After a while, my thoughts vanish and thus my belief in my dreams and aspirations too fades. I feel desp, dull and feel like gradually fading away or weathering away like an autumn leaf ... dry, pale and yellow. Yes, my life is yellow in hue. It turns shiny golden when I am hopeful. At the same time, it becomes dull orange when I lose hope. The fact is, most of the time, my life is almost like a shining sun at the horizon.

In 24x7, 23x7 I feel lost, but in the rest one hour of each day, my parents and hostel-mates try their level best to motivate me to make me cheerful and pleasant and to make me understand there is some or other kind of meaning present in life. Whether it is positive or negative, that doesn't matter. But life is meaningful and we should enjoy our life ... that's their stand. Well, I can read their mind ... poor people, the innocent ones. ... What to do!! Still I feel lost.

Very often my parents advise me to study well so that I can perform my best in the upcoming exam. Thus I open my textbooks and read. But one day, when I opened one of my texts, the printed pages starred at me so badly as if I am a culprit. After a few seconds of staring, the letters in the page started speaking to me like a friend. They asked why I mug up the unnecessary matters ... why I fill my talented brain with trash of academic stuff ... why I store the gibberish and compromise my thoughts and peacefulness. I stood speechless in front of hose question-arrows shot by the letters in my texts. How could I tell tem, I too have number of questions and question-marks 

in my mind which constantly quakes my thoughts resting in tranquility.

I studied 20 years continuously from the age of 3 in various academic institutions as 1+2+10+2+3+2. During these years, I was taught by my God, my thoughts, my parents, my teachers and my friends. All those teachings aided me to form my self-wisdom. But, still I feel lost, gone and meaningless, coz my conscious says absurdity is ruling the world and chaos is at throne.

I don't know what more to say ... to write ...

Even now, while I am writing this, I feel ... !!!

...

LIFE - (1)

What is Life ???

"It is a tale told by an idiot full of sound and fury, signifies nothing" (1).

Life has no meaning.

Yes, it is meaningless.

Why God, the eternal power, gave me a life only to waste it half-way like a broken fountain pen?

Ha, once I was a golden fountain pen. I had magical wings which could be stretched out if needed. Now, my wings are chopped off. I am fallen. No, I am thrown. Thrown to the dig where stray dogs roamed. Thrown so badly that my wings get detached from my shoulder bones. And it does happen exactly how they have expected. My head too hit on a pointed stone. The stone nearly killed me. No, I shouldn’t say that, coz the stone is innocent. All others except the stone killed me. Now I am lifeless. The buyer extracted my blood and jotted down the laws as he was a lawyer. The laws he wrote remain quiet on the leaves of paper. No one stands up and speaks for me. When I had life, I helped the world to write it's thoughts and claims, and when I lost it, I am thrown as trash. Now I know I have been used as merely an object from the time I was made. So, let me remind you all, don't get fallen off as a fool like me. "Awake, arise, or be for ever fallen" (2).

(1) - Macbeth

(2) - Paradise Lost

...