A V E
Established: 1995
Issue 8, 2019
Saturday, May 4th, 2019
As the pitter-patter of the raindrops matches footsteps underneath the tall Kadams, we gear up to weather the approaching Fani along with a semester that promises nothing less dramatic. The new faces that mingle with the old in the bustling corridors promise yet another beginning. Stories of endeavour, grit and sheer determination keeps the old wick burning. As you live the adventure speckled with the ordinary and more, we persevere to chronicle a life as you live it and as we see it.
-Nandini Garodia, Editor-in-Chief
Illustrations: Nandini Garodia
The Jaded Jealousy -Saziia Selvia, XII There is a crushing sound as the rock hits the back of haunt me forever. They cried out to me with a desperate my head; I fall forward and the world slows down to a urgency. I saw the struggles of a wounded body against grinding halt. An uncanny sense of deja vu envelopes a brutal destiny. He lay bare in front of me, raw and me. As my cheeks make contact with the soft mud, I unfiltered and I caught a glimpse of the confusion and suddenly remember. It was twilight, I had slipped out pain of a young man plucked from his motherland and before anyone had woken. There was a war going on and placed on foreign soil, to kill or be killed. In response mother did not like us to go out. Yet I couldn't resist. I I looked away, a decision I would regret for the rest of had been cooped up for two days and needed to my life. He whispered something inaudible. The sound get out, even if it was just to the paddy of his hoarse broken voice continued to rasp against my fields. I stood there looking around, ears long after he had fallen silent. To this day I wonder savoring the cold morning what he must have said. Did he curse me for looking breeze that sent away? Were they the last words of a dying man waves of shivers to his family? I picked up a huge throughout rock lying nearby and can still my body. I hear the sickening sound distinctly it made when it hit his remember skull. I remember thinking that the screaming a silent sun looked like a large scream my egg yolk. That was throat as hoarse when I heard something as his had once rustle behind me. A wet been. Rough and warm sensation pulls hands rummaging me back into the present the pockets of reality, the metallic smell of my clothes bring blood filling my nostrils. Yet I me back to reality, don't feel a thing so I allow my mind kicking me on the to float away, to a day from the long past. I turned back sides when they found and before I saw anything I heard a soft groan, more nothing. animalistic than human. I felt my heart beat quicken. I Decades ago I had found a picture and a jade ornament; looked around wildly, expecting a four legged beast but his rifle had bought me four loaves of bread and a dozen nothing could have prepared me for what I saw next. eggs. A man lay sprawled on his stomach, two of his limbs "I guess you really are broke aren't you, old man?", the mutilated and face scarred beyond recognition. He was voice snarls at me mockingly. Streams of tears travel a Japanese soldier judging by the cloth tied on his head. down my face to dissolve in the pool of blood I shared But none of the above registered at the time. The only with him. My grandson was now a man, I realize, as thing I could see were his eyes which would go on to dark spots take over my vision.
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Weekly Newsletter of The Assam Valley Express
CAMPUS NEWS The Induction Day took place on the 2nd of May and the AVS community welcomed its new members who we hope discover that education is indeed an adventure. We hope the coming semester is a delight for them as much as it is for us.
STAR OF THE WEEK Joshita Kashyap (ISC 2017) was awarded the Dr. Ambedkar National Merit Award by the Deputy Commissioner at Tezpur for securing the highest marks in Art stream in the senior secondary school examination conducted by the Council of Indian Certificate Examination.
Illustrations: Eloziini Senachena
THE OUTPOST
This week saw Fani the once dubbed ‘futile’ cyclone make landfall on the coast of Orissa taking the life of three and is set to have adverse effects in West Bengal and the North-Eastern States. Concurrently another cyclone of rumours hit Kensington Palace of Prince William’s apparent affair with the Duchess’s best friend. The Palace was quick to release pictures of Princess Charlotte on her 4th birthday to eclipse such hearsay. The Lok Sabha elections rages on even as the ordinary Indian casts his vote to empower the Avenger’s to a historic Endgame.
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AVE, Saturday, 4th May
New Kid On The Block:
The Masquerade
Illustrations: Takhe Tamo Reela
-Khrushelu Sazo, X “ It gets infuriating wearing these masks all the time. But these air pollution masks are necessary for they are saving our lives. Without them, we could die from asphyxiation within minutes. The government has made it compulsory for every single one of us to wear a mask all the time or pay a fine”. Amanda stares at the screen in front of her and tries to pay close attention to the online news. There has been yet another accident due to heavy air pollution. This was the world they now lived in where technology kept pollution at bay and life adrift. It's the 8th of July, in the year 2050. She was scheduled for her weekly visit to her mother. Amanda's mother lived in a hospice that specialized in air infected diseases. It has been almost three years now since she had been diagnosed with a breathing disorder triggered from infected lungs. Her mother was lucky to have made it this far. She was an artiste who lay buried consumed by her work and her artistic pursuits. Despite the repeated warnings to wear the mask that purified the infected air her mother insisted that it was a cumbersome fixture that broke into her concentration and no matter how comforting the clean air felt in her lungs, her work was more important. It was while filling in one of her numerous canvases one day, that she crumpled to the floor in a heap unconscious barely
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breathing. The doctors diagnosed that the toxic air she had been breathing in had torn into her lungs filling her blood with toxins. She ought to have died that afternoon but medical sciences and the doctors had brought her back to a threadbare life. Ever since, she has lived in the hospital prisoner to a wheelchair her paint and brushes a distant dream. Amanda stepped out of the house and hurried to her self-driven car looking up to the sky hidden behind a thick black smog. She remembered as a child that time of the day called noon where the sun shone on a bright blue clear sky. It was now merely an idea relegated to the pages of e-books. As she recounted the destination to the car, ‘All Bright Hosp’, the self driven car made its way to the hospital within ten minutes. Entry within the gates and from there on to the pristine white corridors of the hospital was a ritual that required each visitor to walk through rooms programmed to detoxify. She found the doctor waiting for her near her mother’s room. She knew the inevitable had happened and her mother was no more. While the doctor shook his head slowly in regret and Amanda’s eyes clouded with tears her mind raced to sunny afternoons where she sat alongside her mother her fingers dipped in blue as her mother’s thick hair fell like a curtain around her and together they sketched a sunny sky on paper as they breathed in fresh clean air. An era lost by a generation who left it to their descendants to bear the carcass of a world that will have its retribution.
AVE, Saturday, 4th May
Every Journey... -Jeremy Jahau, XI *This poem has been adapted from the movie “Avengers ENDGAME” made by Marvel Studios. This poem does contain spoilers.
In the aftermath of the decimation, When all hope was lost, For half the souls met a sudden cremation And everything was its cost.
Illustrations: Moom Lego
At times like these it’s best to move on And to not dwell and not to fuss Yes, everyone should have this done Everyone, but not us Some of us will fall from grace Gluttony with meat and ale While some of us are lost in space With one more miracle to set sail With some time shall take its toll As the despair has begun to set Archers letting heads roll Though evil deserves what they get So the plan has to be perfect Down to every quantum detail We have no time to defect No matter the risks it will curtail A daring heist for all of time When now is no time at all To correct a new but dusted crime And assert a Mad Titan’s fall
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They will too learn the cost On a wispy Scarlett hue To let hope in, one must have lost A sacrifice only made by few
Yes, none can stop the inevitable But what if they just could A thinker thinks to do the impossible As all great thinkers should
But will history repeat once more? Even in a bright Marvellous wake And can the greatest minds score The power which he could make
A struggle for power but one in vain As the titan seemed to win But strength is null if not for brain And ignorance is sin
The captain will lead with shield and hammer And call for a much awaited assemble Though gods fight alongside a green Banner Their foe will not seem to tremble
The armoured man sought to reverse the end Though the Titan thought not he can And a single snap made the titan bend A final blow by the Iron Man
Only with a single sighted signal Of a Doctors heightened hand Will the inventor do an act most mental To accomplish what they had planned
Ending in space, what began in a hovel As he rests at his journey’s end With a parting word to all who marvel “I love you three thousand”
AVE, Saturday, 4th May
The Inevitable: Back to School -Nilasha Bhimsaria , X
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AVE, Saturday, 4th May
Ripple #99 -Moom Lego, X
Cakes and scones and lemon treat Prayer beads on an ancient seat The Saviour held back on the cross As Easter lit with human loss. Carnage and bombs all in hue Painted eggs shattered, for a few.
Tongue of Slip!! 1. How do you lose home at weight Aakangsha Dutta, XII (We’re still trying to lose you.) 2. I need to life up my spice - Harry Elangbam, XI (How chillie-ing.) 3. I can’t eight for season wait - Nandini Garodia, XII (The seasons aren’t waiting for you, Ed.) 4. Just do the interneted - Ma’am SPS (Well, the nets down, Ma’am) 5. Lesser the messer - Sieyina Meru, XII (Keep your mess to yourself.)
Keep It Reel!
Light ‘em Up -Sempisang Toy, XII
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Editor-in-Chief: Nandini Garodia Deputy Editor: Sieyina Meru Associate Editor: Aakangsha Dutta Correspondents: Sempisang, Saziia, Jeremy, Eloziini & Moom Design & Layout: Moom Lego & Jeremy Jahau Illustrator: Takhe Tamo Reela Mistress-in-Charge: Ms. Sarmistha Paul Sarkar Publisher: The Assam Valley School, P.O. Balipara, Dist. Sonitpur, Asom-784101, India E-mail: ave@assamvalleyschool.com Telephone: 09678074320/08812009627 Website: www.assamvalleyschool.com Weekly Newsletter of The Assam Valley Express