AE-1 Listening Comprehension in English PDF

Department of English ADDITIONAL ENGLISH I I SEMESTER  INDEX Content Unit 1: Listening Skills Listening vs. hearing, Barriers to Listening Non-verbal and Verbal signs of active listening, Types of listening: Active...

Department of English ADDITIONAL ENGLISH I I SEMESTER  INDEX Content Unit 1: Listening Skills Listening vs. hearing, Barriers to Listening Non-verbal and Verbal signs of active listening, Types of listening: Active listening, Critical listening, Empathetic listening Unit 2: Grammar Clauses and phrases Modals and Conditional Verbs Types of sentences: Simple, complex and compound Unit 3: Literature My Vision for India : A P J Abdul Kalam Lumber Room : Saki Richard Cory : E.A. Robinson Survival for the Future : An Interview with Climate Activist Licypriya Kangujam Diary of Pakistani School Girl : Malala Yousafzai Trail Of The Green Blazer : R.K. Narayan Mother Teresa - Saint of the Slums : Lewis Helfand Still I Rise : Maya Angelou  My Vision for India A.P.J. Abdul Kalam I have three visions for India. In 3000 years of our history, people from all over the world have come and invaded us, captured our lands, conquered our minds. From Alexander onwards, The Greeks, the Turks, the Moguls, the Portuguese, the British, the French, the Dutch, all of them came and looted us, took over what was ours. Yet we have not done this to any other nation. We have not conquered anyone. We have not grabbed their land, their culture, their history and Tried to enforce our way of life on them. Why? Because we respect the freedom of others. That is why my first vision is that of FREEDOM. I believe that India got its first vision of this in 1857, when we started the war of Independence. It is this freedom that we must protect and nurture and build on. If we are not free, no one will respect us. My second vision for India’s DEVELOPMENT, For fifty years we have been A developing nation. It is time we see ourselves as a developed nation. We are among top 5 nations of the world in terms of GDP. We have 10 percent growth rate in most areas. Our poverty levels are falling. Our achievements are being globally recognized today. Yet we lack the self confidence to see ourselves as a developed nation, self-reliant and self-assured. Isn’t this incorrect? I have a THIRD vision. India must stand up to the world. Because I believe that, unless India stands up to the world, no one will respect us. Only strength respects strength. We must be strong not only as a military power but also as an economic power. Both must go hand-in hand. My good fortune was to have worked with three great minds. Dr. Vikram Sarabhai of the Dept. of space, Professor Satish Dhawan, who succeeded him and Dr.Brahm Prakash, father of nuclear material. I was lucky to have worked with all three of them closely and consider this the great opportunity of my life. I see four milestones in my career: Twenty years I spent in ISRO. I was given the opportunity to be the project director for India’s first satellite launch vehicle, SLV3. The one that launched Rohini. These years played a very important role in my life of Scientist. After my ISRO years, I joined DRDO and got a chance to be the part of India’s guided missile program. It was my second bliss when Agni met its mission requirements in 1994. The Dept. of Atomic Energy and DRDO had this tremendous partnership in the recent nuclear tests, on May 11 and 13. This was the third bliss. The joy of participating with my team in these nuclear tests and proving to the world that India can make it, that we are no longer a developing nation but one of them. It made me feel very proud as an Indian. The fact that we have now developed for Agni a re-entry structure, for which we have developed this new material. A Very light material called carbon-carbon. One day an orthopedic surgeon from Nizam Institute of Medical Sciences visited my laboratory. He lifted the material and found it so light that he took me to his hospital and showed me his patients. There were these little girls and boys with heavy metallic calipers weighing over three Kg. each, dragging their feet around. He said to me: Please remove the pain of my patients. In three weeks, we made these Floor reaction Orthosis 300-gram calipers and took them to the orthopedic center. The children didn’t believe their eyes. From dragging around a three kg. load on their legs, they could now move around! Their parents had tears in their eyes. That was my fourth bliss! Why is the media here so negative? Why are we in India so embarrassed to recognize our own strengths, our achievements? We are such a great nation. We have so many amazing success stories but we refuse to acknowledge them. Why? We are the first in milk production. We are number one in Remote sensing satellites. We are the second largest producer of wheat. We are the second largest producer of rice. Look at Dr. Sudarshan, he has transferred the tribal village into a self-sustaining, self driving unit. There are millions of such achievements but our media is only obsessed in the bad news and failures and disasters. I was in Tel Aviv once and I was reading the Israeli newspaper. It was the day after a lot of attacks and bombardments and deaths had taken place. The Hamas had struck. But the front page of the newspaper had the picture of a Jewish gentleman who in five years had transformed his desert land into an orchid and a granary. It was this inspiring picture that everyone woke up to. The gory details of killings, bombardments, deaths, were inside in the newspaper, buried among other news. In India we only read about death, sickness, terrorism, crime. Why are we so NEGATIVE? Another question: Why are we, as a nation so obsessed with foreign things? We want foreign TVs, we want foreign shirts. We want foreign technology. Why this obsession with everything imported. Do we not realize that self-respect comes with self-reliance? I was in Hyderabad giving this lecture, when a 14 year old girl asked me for my autograph. I asked her what her goal in life is. She replied: I want to live in a developed India. For her, you and I will have to build this developed India. You must proclaim. India is not an under-developed nation; it is a highly developed nation. Do you have 10 minutes? Allow me to come back with a vengeance. Got 10 minutes for your country? If yes, then read; otherwise, choice is yours. YOU say that our government is inefficient. YOU say that our laws are too old. YOU say that the municipality does not pick up the garbage. YOU say that the phones don’t work, the railways are a joke, the airline is the worst in the world, mails never reach their destination. YOU say that our country has been fed to the dogs and is the absolute pits. YOU say, say and say. What do YOU do about it? Take a person on his way to Singapore. Give him a name – YOURS. Give him a face – YOURS. YOU walk out of the airport and you are at your international best. In Singapore you don’t throw cigarette butts on the roads or eat in the stores. YOU are as proud of their underground links as they are. You pay $5(approx. Rs.60) to drive through Orchard Road which is the equivalent of Mahim Causeway or Pedder Road between 5 PM and 8 PM. YOU come back to the parking lot to punch your parking  ticket if you have over stayed in a restaurant or a shopping mall irrespective of your status identity. In Singapore you don’t say anything, DO YOU? YOU wouldn’t dare to eat in public during Ramadan, in Dubai. YOU would not dare to go out without your head covered in Jeddah. YOU would not dare to buy an employee of the telephone exchange in London at 10 pounds (Rs.650) a month to, “see to it that my STD and ISD calls are billed to someone else.” YOU would not dare to speed beyond 55 mph (88 km/h) in Washington and then tell the traffic cop, “Jaanta hai sala main kaun hoon (Do you know who I am?). I am so and so’s son. Take your two bucks and get lost.” YOU wouldn’t chuck an empty coconut shell anywhere other than the garbage pail on the beaches in Australia and New Zealand. Why don’t YOU spit Paan on the streets of Tokyo? Why don’t YOU use examination jockeys or buy fake certificates in Boston? We are still talking of the same YOU. YOU who can respect and conform to a foreign system in other countries but cannot in your own. You who will throw papers and cigarettes on the road the moment you touch Indian ground. If you can be an involved and appreciative citizen in an alien country, why cannot you be the same here in India? Once in an interview, the famous Ex-municipal commissioner of Bombay, Mr. Tinaikar, had a point to make. “Rich people’s dogs are walked on the streets to leave their affluent droppings all over the place,” he said.” And then the same people turn around to criticize and blame the authorities for inefficiency and dirty pavements. What do they expect the officers to do? Go down with broom every time their dog feels the pressure in his bowels? In America every dog owner has to clean up after his pet has done the job. Same in Japan. Will the Indian citizen do that here?” He’s right. We go to the polls to choose a government and after that forfeit all responsibility. We sit back wanting to be pampered and expect the government to do everything for us whilst our contribution is totally negative. We expect the government to clean up but we are not going to stop chucking garbage all over the place nor are we going to stop to pick up a stray piece of paper and throw it in the bin. We expect the railways to provide clean bathrooms but we are not going to learn the proper use of bathrooms. We want Indian Airlines and Air India to provide the best of food and toiletries but we are not going to stop pilfering at the least opportunity. This applies even to the staff who is known not to pass on the service to the public. When it comes to burning social issues like those related to women, dowry, girl child and others, we make loud drawing room protestations and continue to do the reverse at home. Our excuse? ‘It’s the whole system which has to change, how will it matter if I alone forego my sons’ rights to a dowry.’ So who’s going to change the system? What does a system consist of? Very conveniently for us it consists of our neighbors, other households, other cities, other communities and the government. But definitely not me and YOU. When it comes to us actually making a positive contribution to the system we lock ourselves along with our families into a safe cocoon and look into the distance at countries far away and wait for a Mr. Clean to come along & work miracles for us with a majestic sweep of his hand or we leave the country and run away. Like lazy cowards hounded by our fears we run to America to bask in their glory and praise their system. When New York becomes insecure we run to England. When England experiences unemployment, we take the next flight out to the Gulf. When the Gulf is war struck, we demand to be rescued and brought home by the Indian government. Everybody is out to abuse and rape the country. Nobody thinks of feeding the system. Our conscience is mortgaged to money. Dear Indians, This calls for a great deal of introspection and pricks one’s conscience too…. I am echoing J. F. Kennedy’s words to his fellow Americans to relate to Indians….. “ASK WHAT WE CAN DO FOR INDIA AND DO WHAT HAS TO BE DONE TO MAKE INDIA WHAT AMERICA AND OTHER WESTERN COUNTRIES ARE TODAY” Let’s do what India needs from us.  The Lumber Room by Saki The children were to be driven, as a special treat, to the sands at Jagborough. Nicholas, in trouble, was not to attend. Only that morning he had refused to eat his bread-and-milk claiming there was a frog in it. Older and wiser people had told him that there could not possibly be a frog in his bread-and-milk and that he was not to talk nonsense; but he continued and described in great detail the coloration and markings of the frog. “You said there couldn’t possibly be a frog in my bread-and-milk; there was a frog in my bread-and milk,” he repeated, with the insistence of a skilled tactician who does not intend to shift from favorable ground. So, his boy-cousin and girl-cousin and his younger brother were to be taken to Jagborough sands that afternoon and he was to stay at home. His cousins’ aunt, who insisted in calling herself his aunt also, had invented the Jagborough trip in order to impress on Nicholas the fun that he had given up by his disgraceful conduct at the breakfast-table. It was her habit, whenever one of the children misbehaved, to create some special trip from which the offender would be left out; if all the children sinned collectively they were suddenly informed of a circus in a neighboring town, a circus of unrivalled merit and uncounted elephants, to which, but for their depravity, they would have been taken that very day. As the party drove away the aunt commanded, “You are not to go into the gooseberry garden.” “Why not?” demanded Nicholas. “Because you are in trouble,” said the aunt loftily. Nicholas did not admit the flawlessness of the reasoning; he felt perfectly capable of being in trouble and in a gooseberry garden at the same time. It was clear to his aunt that he was determined to get into the gooseberry garden, “only,” as she remarked to herself, “because I have told him he is not to.” Now the gooseberry garden had two doors by which it might be entered, and once a small person like Nicholas slipped in there he could basically disappear from view amid the growth of artichokes, raspberry canes, and fruit bushes. The aunt had many other things to do that afternoon, but she spent an hour or two in trivial gardening operations among flower beds and shrubberies, where she could keep a watchful eye on the two doors that led to the forbidden paradise. Nicholas made one or two trips into the front garden, wriggling his way with obvious stealth of purpose towards one or other of the doors, but never able for a moment to evade the aunt’s watchful eye. As a matter of fact, he had no intention of trying to get into the gooseberry garden, but it was convenient for him that his aunt believe that he had; it was a belief that would keep her busy for the greater part of the afternoon. Having thoroughly confirmed her suspicions Nicholas slipped back into the house and rapidly put into execution a plan of action that had long developed in his brain. By standing on a chair in the library one could reach a shelf which held a fat, important- looking key. The key was as important as it looked as it kept the mysteries of the lumber-room secure from unauthorized intrusion. The key turned stiffly in the lock, but it turned. The door opened, and Nicholas was in an unknown land. Often Nicholas had pictured what the lumber-room might be like, it was so carefully sealed from youthful eyes and about which no questions were ever answered. It lived up to his expectations. It was large and dimly lit, one high window opening on to the forbidden garden being its only source of light and was a storehouse of unimagined treasures. The aunt was one of those people who think that things spoil by use and consign them to dust and damp by way of preserving them. The parts of the house Nicholas knew best were bare and cheerless, but here there were wonderful things for the eye to feast on. There was a piece of framed tapestry that was evidently meant to be a fire-screen. To Nicholas it was a living, breathing story; telling of a story of a huntsman in some remote time period. Nicholas sat for many minutes reliving the possibilities of the scene. There were other objects of delight and interest claiming his instant attention: there were twisted candlesticks in the shape of snakes, and a teapot fashioned like a china duck, out of whose open beak the tea was supposed to come. How dull and shapeless the nursery teapot seemed in comparison! And there was a carved sandal-wood box packed tight with aromatic cotton-wool, and between the layers of cotton-wool were little brass figures, hump-necked bulls, and peacocks and goblins, delightful to see and to handle. Less promising in appearance was a large square book with plain black covers; Nicholas peeped into it, and, behold, it was full of colored pictures of birds. And such birds! In the garden, and in the lanes when he went for a walk, Nicholas came across a few birds, of which the largest were an occasional magpie or wood-pigeon; here were herons and bustards, kites, toucans, tiger bitterns, brush turkeys, ibises, golden pheasants, a whole portrait gallery of undreamed-of creatures. As he was admiring the coloring of the mandarin duck and assigning a life-history to it, the shrill voice of his aunt caught his attention. She had grown suspicious at his long disappearance, and had leapt to the conclusion that he had climbed over the wall behind the screen of the lilac bushes; she was now engaged in energetic and rather hopeless search for him among the artichokes and raspberry canes. “Nicholas, Nicholas!” she screamed, “you are to come out of this at once. It’s no use trying to hide there; I can see you all the time.” The angry repetitions of Nicholas’ name gave way to a shriek, and a cry for somebody to come quickly. Nicholas shut the book, restored it carefully to its place in a corner, and shook some dust from a neighboring pile of newspapers over it. Then he crept from the room, locked the door, and replaced the key exactly where he had found it. His aunt was still calling his name when he sauntered into the front garden. “Who’s calling?” he asked. “Me,” came the answer from the other side of the wall; “didn’t you hear me? I’ve been looking for you in the gooseberry garden, and I’ve slipped into the rain-water tank. Luckily there’s no water in it, but the sides are slippery and I can’t get out. Fetch the little ladder from under the cherry tree —” “I was told I wasn’t to go into the gooseberry garden,” said Nicholas promptly. “I told you not to, and now I tell you that you may,” came the voice from the rain- water tank, rather impatiently. “Your voice doesn’t sound like aunt’s,” objected Nicholas; “you may be the Evil One tempting me to be disobedient. Aunt often tells me that the Evil One tempts me and that I always yield. This time I’m not going to yield.” “Don’t talk nonsense,” said the prisoner in the tank; “go and fetch the ladder.” “Will there be strawberry jam for tea?” asked Nicholas innocently. “Certainly, there will be,” said the aunt, privately resolving that Nicholas should have none of it. “Now I know that you are the Evil One and not aunt,” shouted Nicholas gleefully; “when we asked aunt for strawberry jam yesterday she said there wasn’t any. I know there are four jars of it in the store cupboard, because I looked, and of course you know it’s there, but she doesn’t, because she said there wasn’t any. Oh, Devil, you have sold yourself!” He walked noisily away, and it was a kitchenmaid, in search of parsley, who eventually rescued the aunt from the rain-water tank. Tea that evening was partaken of in a fearsome silence. The tide had been at its highest when the children had arrived at Jagborough Cove, so there had been no sands to play on — a circumstance that the aunt had overlooked in the haste of organizing her the expedition. The tightness of Bobby’s boots had had disastrous effect on his temper the whole of the afternoon, and altogether the children could not have been said to have enjoyed themselves. The aunt maintained the frozen muteness of one who has suffered undignified and unmerited detention in a rain-water tank for thirty-five minutes. As for Nicholas, he, too, was silent, in the absorption of one who has much to think about; as he imagined the treasures hidden in the lumber room.  Richard Cory - Edwin Arlington Robinson Whenever Richard Cory went down town, We people on the pavement looked at him: He was a gentleman from sole to crown, Clean favored, and imperially slim. And he was always quietly arrayed, And he was always human when he talked; But still he fluttered pulses when he said, "Good- morning," and he glittered when he walked. And he was rich—yes, richer than a king— And admirably schooled in every grace: In fine, we thought that he was everything To make us wish that we were in his place. So on we worked, and waited for the light, And went without the meat, and cursed the bread; And Richard Cory, one calm summer night, Went home and put a bullet through his head.  Survival for the Future: Interview with Climate Activist Licypriya Kangujam Licypriya Kangujam is an Indigenous climate activist from India. At nine years old, she spoke at the United Nations Climate Conference (COP25) in 2019 and travelled around the world to speak at climate and international conferences. Kangujam has been recognized for her advocacy for clean air initiatives and protests against the Indian government. HIR: You’re by far the HIR’s youngest interviewee ever at just nine years old. How did you get your start in climate advocacy? Kangujam: Thank you so much for this opportunity. I’m glad to hear that I’m the youngest interviewee in your history. I was born in a small village of Manipur in North East India surrounded by lush green mountains and an alluring atmosphere. I never realized what I’m doing is activism until 2018 when people started calling me a climate activist. In 2016, I came to Delhi for the first time for my schooling, but my life became very messy due to the high air pollution level. Later, I moved to Bhubaneswar, Odisha, in the same year for my schooling. Again my home in Odisha was hit by Cyclone Titli in 2018 and Cyclone Fani in 2019. These incidences in my life turned me into an outspoken child that talks about the impact of climate change to our leaders when they failed to act on it. The Nepal Earthquake of 2015 is also an important event in my life. During that time, I accompanied my dad to raise funds to help the victims’ children and families. That was the first time that I learned the words “climate change” and “natural disasters,” but I couldn’t realize what exactly they were as I was a small baby that time. But, this could be the main reason why I am so concerned about the environment and our planet. My father did his Masters in Environmental Studies in Nalanda International University. He frequently talked to me about various environmental issues happening everyday around the world. It also helps me to learn and understand many things about the environment and climate change. Unfortunately, he couldn’t complete his degree in the university, but he wishes for me to love and be concerned about our nature and our environment. In July 2018, when I was just six years old, I got an opportunity to attend the United Nations Disaster Conference in Mongolia. It was a life changing event. Just after I returned back home from Mongolia, I started my organization called “The Child Movement” in July, 2018 to call on world leaders to take immediate climate action to save our planet and our future. It has now become a people’s movement for climate justice in India and various other countries. My first parliament protest was on February 2, 2019. I have my three main demands to our leaders and the Government to change the system: to pass the climate change law in the parliament as soon as possible, to make climate education compulsory in every school in India, and to ensure plantations of minimum of 10 trees by every student in India. If they pass the climate law then we can control carbon emissions and greenhouse gases. Also, it will give climate justice to millions of poor vulnerable people and other marginalized communities who are the victims of climate change. It can bring accountability and transparency to the government. Making climate education mandatory in schools' curriculum will help to fight the climate crisis from the grassroots. Italy has already made climate education compulsory in their school curriculum since 2019. If India follows suit, India will be the second country after Italy to take such initiative in the history of the world and the first in Asia. India has over 350 million students. If 350 million students plant a minimum of 10 trees every year, then we will plant 3.5 billion trees every year. Trust me; India will be green within five to 10 years. This will help fight the air pollution, floods, droughts, heat waves and other environmental issues in the country. I dropped out of school as of February 2019 due to my protests every week in front of the parliament house. My parents couldn’t afford the expenses for traveling every week from Bhubaneswar to New Delhi for my protest, so I decided to drop out of school. It was the most disappointing period of my life. I missed my school, my friends, and my teachers. Before my parliament protest, I moved from place to place to create awareness on climate change, specifically targeting children and young people and also attended various global important meetings to raise my voice. I addressed the world leaders at the United Nations Climate Conference 2019 (COP25) held in Madrid, Spain. It helped me to amplify my voice globally. So far, I have traveled to about 32 countries as a part of my movement and spoke in more than 400 institutions and platforms to advocate adults on climate change as a speaker across the globe in the last two years. When I began the movement, I was alone, but today, I have thousands who love and support from across the globe. HIR: What is the value of youth advocacy in the climate movement? What unique perspective do you bring? Kangujam: Some of the changes I brought to my country through advocacy are as follows: 1) New Air Pollution Law in India: It’s one of my long-standing demands for our leaders over the past two years. I played an important role to bring about this new law to curb the air pollution crisis in Delhi. I protested in front of the President House at midnight on October 15, 2020.I was detained by Delhi police on October 18, 2020. On October 28, 2020, the President of India signed and approved an ordinance to enact this new air pollution law in India in five states. The Prime Minister of India also ordered that a new commission be established on air pollution with its headquarter in Delhi to solve the Delhi air pollution crisis permanently. As per the new law, polluters can be fined US$134,000 or be jailed for up to five years. 2) Inclusion of climate change as a compulsory subject in School Education Curriculum: So far, the Indian states of Rajasthan, Gujarat and Sikkim have given me positive responses. Starting from zero, now over 145,000 schools in India will include climate change as a compulsory subject in their curriculums. Still I need to wait more and see. Now India becomes the second country after Italy to take such initiative in the history of the world. And, over 1000 private schools have already started taking this initiative across India and many other parts of the world after my request.  3) 1 Year 1 Million Trees: I have planted over 350,000 trees in my life in various places across India and many parts of the world with school children, which is equivalent to planting 100 trees every day since my birth. I plant thousands of trees every week by celebrating “Monday for Mother Nature” with children of various schools across India and others to make our planet green again with the mission of plating one million trees each year as a part of taking climate action from the grassroots. HIR: Indigenous communities around the world have been vocal about the impact of climate change on their livelihoods. As an Indigenous girl, why is climate change an Indigenous issue? Is there room for solidarity between the climate movement and Indigenous rights movements? Kangujam: Indigenous people are playing a crucial role in protecting our planet. We are not on front covers, but we are the first line of defenders. Due to rising violence against Indigenous communities around the world, it’s an alarming situation for all of us along with the bigger challenges of protecting our forests and the environment. Even in my home state, the government has given licenses to big foreign companies based in the Netherlands to exploit our indigenous forest for oil exploration while local people are opposing it. Many Indigenous activists are in jail or are even murdered in several places across the world. Denial of the climate crisis by our leaders increases the threat to us. As both the climate movement and Indigenous rights movement are fighting for the common cause, it’s time to come together to strengthen our movement with one common voice to protect our rights and to defend the defenders. We are interconnected and interdependent. The climate movement will fail without indigenous people. HIR: India, your home country, is a major carbon emitter, but also a developing country. How do you respond to critics who say that developed carbon emitters like the US and countries in the EU should be the ones involved in climate advocacy as opposed to countries like India? Kangujam: Climate change has no border. India is also equally responsible for the global carbon emissions. Developed nations should invest more for a green economy as compared to developing ones, but India can lead and be a role model in fighting the climate crisis because we have full potential to do so. Besides the EU and the United States, two of the highest global carbon emitters like China and India are two giant neighboring countries and they’re not doing enough. They are still giving huge subsidies to fossil fuel companies, which are responsible for massive carbon and greenhouse gases emissions globally. I’m very much confident and I expect a lot from United States President-Elect Joe Biden’s leadership. We are going to hold him accountable. Yesterday, I was so happy when I heard the news that our Prime Minister Narendra Modi discussed climate change with Biden. I was a little bit surprised too because it never happened in the last four years of the Trump administration. India needs to see climate change as an urgent political issue. India is already experiencing adverse extreme weather events like floods, droughts, heat waves, cyclones, and locusts in addition to extremely polluted air and water stress at the same time. These are all the impacts of climate change. India must take a leadership role in the shift to sustainable production and consumption to end this crisis and the shift from a carbon economy to a green economy. India must create policy that encourages resource efficiency and a reduction in waste of resources. In doing so, it will provide a template for other developing countries as well. India must build on international initiatives it has piloted, such as the International Solar Alliance to further global cooperation and collaboration to address climate change. India should bring the United States into the International Solar Alliance. Working with partners in the developed and developing world, New Delhi must take the lead and be instrumental in shaping global climate efforts. As the United States and India work together, the United States must demonstrate that they feel an obligation to act ambitiously to cut greenhouse gas emissions given America’s level of economic development and the current size and the historic volume of US emissions. The United States and India can also scope out areas of cooperation, including advancing green investment, cooperating on solar and wind technologies, cooperating on forest policy; especially conservation and accounting, cooperating on climate resilience (drought, flood and coastal lines), and developing state-to-state and city-to-city cooperation on resilience, mitigation, monitoring and assessment. The United States and India can do more together, and we must do more together. We have to do it faster otherwise our planet will be dying soon. The world needs a concrete climate action plan to save our planet and our future. HIR: You have advocated for climate education in schools. What would this look like? Why is climate education important? Kangujam: I receive a lot of positive responses both from state governments and schools. It’s become a movement now. Over 1000 private schools in India and many parts of the world are now teaching climate education in their schools. In each school, there are a minimum of around 3000 to 4000 students, and some schools are run under a society and they have dozens of branches across the country. So, it’s easier for me if their founder or the head of the society accepts my proposal without approval from the government. Climate education is very important if we really would like to fight the climate crisis. Adults are not doing enough already, and I don’t have much faith in them to come to the frontline and save our planet and future. The last hope is children. If we include climate education in schools, then we can fight climate change from the grassroots. It will help to educate adults and our leaders via their children and grandchildren, so that we altogether can support each other to save our environment and our planet. This also increases environmental consciousness among the people in addition to a love and respect for nature. I am even preparing to go to court to direct the government to include it as mandatory in all national curriculums of various school boards. I trust it will be a very successful mission. HIR: India experiences many extreme weather events that have been linked to climate change from floods to heat waves. What can be done to prepare the country better for these devastating events? How do you approach this in your advocacy? Kangujam: India is the sixth most vulnerable country in the world to climate change. We are facing floods, droughts, heat waves, cyclones, and air pollution all at the same time. These are all the impacts of climate change. We need to shift to a green economy from a carbon economy. The government needs to make strong new climate laws to protect our environment. We need to promote clean energy like solar in cities and wind turbines in rural areas for power instead of depending on coal. We need urgent green transitions from fossil fuel vehicles to electric vehicles. We should also stop deforestation for mining and developmental activities. I have written several letters to our leaders and officials, submitted memorandums multiple times, and held protests to draw their attention. I also use social media, like Twitter, as a powerful tool to address the voice of the people to our leaders. Some people always tell me that I’m too young to get involved in such activism, but I am proof that age doesn’t matter to make a difference. Big or small, it doesn’t matter. I’m a young girl. I’m strong, smart, intelligent, and brave. The majority of the people encourage me. But, I have always received lots of online threats, abuse, and cyberbullying every day in addition to criticism whenever I speak out against any of our leaders who try to silence my voice. HIR: You advocate for a Survival Kit for the Future, a campaign to reduce air pollution in India. Why is this an important issue? What are you proposing should be done to clean up India’s air quality? Kangujam: I developed a symbolic device called Survival Kit for the Future (SUKIFU) to curb the air pollution on October 4, 2019. SUKIFU is an almost zero- cost kit designed from trash to provide fresh air to breathe when pollution is bad. It draws the attention of the leaders to find an urgent solution for the current crisis of air pollution in Delhi and the National Capital Region. This invention sends a poignant message about environmental degradation and questions the planet's unknown future and environmental depletion. Our governments are busy blaming each other instead of finding long-term solutions to deadly air pollution. Children are unable to go out of the home in Delhi. They must act now otherwise our future will be dying. I developed the model with the support of Professor Chandan Ghosh, of Indian Institute of Technology Jammu (IIT). Air quality in many parts of Delhi crossed measurable limits of AQI 999, which is a public health emergency situation for the 30.3 millions people of Delhi, including millions of children. Our leaders failed to address and handle all the environmental and health concerns of the people. This is unacceptable. I’m demanding our leaders to shut down all the coal and thermal power plants in and around Delhi, to stop stubble burning, to revive the Aravelli Forest, to mark bicycle lane in all roads of Delhi, to increase green spaces, to ban permanently bursting of firecrackers in Delhi for next 5-10 years, to promote renewable energies instead of burning fossil fuels, and to replace all diesel and petrol vehicles with solar or electric. HIR: The global deadline to address accelerated warming is rapidly approaching. Are you optimistic that the global community can sufficiently address the problem? Where do you see the most room for improvement? Kangujam: Our leaders need political willpower to cut down emissions and become a net zero, carbon-neutral country by 2035 or 2050. I understand developing countries have a bigger challenge. India also is a big country with a large population; our government faces a lot of challenges to set a deadline to achieve global commitments, but we need to increase the speed. I’m very much optimistic that if developed countries stand together with those developing countries, we can easily achieve the Paris Climate Agreement before the deadline. The biggest problem is that our leaders don’t trust each other. If they trust each other, we can easily fight the global climate crisis with a concrete action plan. Source: Harvard International Review  Malala Yousafzai: Diary of Pakistani School Girl Diary of a Pakistani school girl Private schools in Pakistan's troubled north-western Swat district have been ordered to close in a Taleban edict banning girls' education. Militants seeking to impose their austere interpretation of Sharia law have destroyed about 150 schools in the past year. Five more were blown up despite a government pledge to safeguard education, it was reported on Monday. Here a seventh grade schoolgirl from Swat chronicles how the ban has affected her and her classmates. The diary first appeared on BBC Urdu online. SATURDAY 3 JANUARY: I AM AFRAID I had a terrible dream yesterday with military helicopters and the Taleban. I have had such dreams since the launch of the military operation in Swat. My mother made me breakfast and I went off to school. I was afraid going to school because the Taleban had issued an edict banning all girls from attending schools. Only 11 students attended the class out of 27. The number decreased because of Taleban's edict. My three friends have shifted to Peshawar, Lahore and Rawalpindi with their families after this edict. On my way from school to home I heard a man saying 'I will kill you'. I hastened my pace and after a while I looked back if the man was still coming behind me. But to my utter relief he was talking on his mobile and must have been threatening someone else over the phone. SUNDAY 4 JANUARY: I HAVE TO GO TO SCHOOL Today is a holiday and I woke up late, around 10 am. I heard my father talking about another three bodies lying at Green Chowk (crossing). I felt bad on hearing this news. Before the launch of the military operation we all used to go to Marghazar, Fiza Ghat and Kanju for picnics on Sundays. But now the situation is such that we have not been out on picnic for over a year and a half. We also used to go for a walk after dinner but now we are back home before sunset. Today I did some household chores, my homework and played with my brother. But my heart was beating fast - as I have to go to school tomorrow. MONDAY 5 JANUARY: DO NOT WEAR COLOURFUL DRESSES I was getting ready for school and about to wear my uniform when I remembered that our principal had told us not to wear uniforms - and come to school wearing normal clothes instead. So I decided to wear my favourite pink dress. Other girls in school were also wearing colourful dresses and the school presented a homely look. My friend came to me and said, 'for God's sake, answer me honestly, is our school going to be attacked by the Taleban?' During the morning assembly we were told not to wear colourful clothes as the Taleban would object to it. I came back from school and had tuition sessions after lunch. In the evening I switched on the TV and heard that curfew had been lifted from Shakardra after 15 days. I was happy to hear that because our English teacher lived in the area and she might be coming to school now. WEDNESDAY 7 JANUARY: NO FIRING OR FEAR I have come to Bunair to spend Muharram (a Muslim holiday) on vacation. I adore Bunair because of its mountains and lush green fields. My Swat is also very beautiful but there is no peace. But in Bunair there is peace and tranquillity. Neither is there any firing nor any fear. We all are very happy. Today we went to Pir Baba mausoleum and there were lots of people there. People are here to pray while we are here for an excursion. There are shops selling bangles, ear rings, lockets and other artificial jewellery. I thought of buying something but nothing impressed - my mother bought ear rings and bangles. FRIDAY 9 JANUARY: THE MAULANA GOES ON LEAVE? Today at school I told my friends about my trip to Bunair. They said that they were sick and tired of hearing the Bunair story. We discussed the rumours about the death of Maulana Shah Dauran, who used to give speeches on FM radio. He was the one who announced the ban on girls attending school. Some girls said that he was dead but others disagreed. The rumours of his death are circulating because he did not deliver a speech the night before on FM radio. One girl said that he had gone on leave. Since there was no tuition on Friday, I played the whole afternoon. I switched on the TV in the evening and heard about the blasts in Lahore. I said to myself 'why do these blasts keep happening in Pakistan?' WEDNESDAY 14 JANUARY: I MAY NOT GO TO SCHOOL AGAIN  I was in a bad mood while going to school because winter vacations are starting from tomorrow. The principal announced the vacations but did not mention the date the school was to reopen. This was the first time this has happened. In the past the reopening date was always announced clearly. The principal did not inform us about the reason behind not announcing the school reopening, but my guess was that the Taleban had announced a ban on girls' education from 15 January. This time round, the girls were not too excited about vacations because they knew if the Taleban implemented their edict they would not be able to come to school again. Some girls were optimistic that the schools would reopen in February but others said that their parents had decided to shift from Swat and go to other cities for the sake of their education. Since today was the last day of our school, we decided to play in the playground a bit longer. I am of the view that the school will one day reopen but while leaving I looked at the building as if I would not come here again. THURSDAY JANUARY 15: NIGHT FILLED WITH ARTILLERY FIRE The night was filled with the noise of artillery fire and I woke up three times. But since there was no school I got up later at 10 am. Afterwards, my friend came over and we discussed our homework. Today is 15 January, the last day before the Taleban's edict comes into effect, and my friend was discussing homework as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Today, I also read the diary written for the BBC (in Urdu) and published in the newspaper. My mother liked my pen name 'Gul Makai' and said to my father 'why not change her name to Gul Makai?' I also like the name because my real name means 'grief stricken'. My father said that some days ago someone brought the printout of this diary saying how wonderful it was. My father said that he smiled but could not even say that it was written by his daughter.  The Trail of a Green Blazer RK Narayan The Green Blazer stood out prominently under the bright sun and blue sky. In all that jostling crowd one could not help noticing it. Villagers in shirts and turbans, townsmen in coats and caps, beggars bare-bodied, and women in multi-coloured saris were thronging the narrow passage between the stalls, and moving in great confused masses, but still the Green Blazer could not be missed. The jabber and babble of the market place was there, as people harangued, disputed prices, haggled, or greeted each other; over it all boomed the voice of a Bible-preacher and, when he paused for breath, from another corner the loudspeaker of a health van amplified on malaria and tuberculosis. Over and above it all the Green Blazer seemed to cry out an invitation. Raju could not ignore it. It was not in his nature to ignore such a persistent invitation. He kept himself half-aloof from the crowd: he could not afford to remain completely aloof nor keep himself in it too conspicuously. Wherever he might be he was harrowed by the fear of being spotted by a policeman: today he wore a loin-cloth and was bare-bodied, and had wound an enormous turban over his head, which over-shadowed his face completely, and he hoped that he would be taken for a peasant from a village. He sat on a stack of cast-off banana stalks beside a shop awning and watched the crowd. When he watched a crowd he did it with concentration. It was his professional occupation. Constitutionally he was an idler and had just the amount of energy to watch in a crowd and put his hand into another person’s pocket. It was a gamble, of course. Sometimes he got nothing out of a venture, counting himself lucky if he came out with his fingers intact. Sometimes he picked up a fountain pen, and the ‘receiver’ behind the Municipal Office would not offer even four annas for it, and there was always the danger of being traced through it. Raju promised himself that some day he would leave fountain pens alone: he wouldn’t touch one even if they were presented to him on a plate: they were too much bother – inky, leaky, and next to worthless if one could believe what the ‘receiver’ said about them. Watches were in the same category, too. What Raju loved most was a nice, bulging purse. If he saw one he picked it up with the greatest deftness. He took the cash in it, flung it far away, and went home with the satisfaction that he had done his day’s job well. He splashed a little water over his face and hair and tidied himself up before walking down the street again as a normal citizen. He bought sweets, books and slates for his children, and occasionally a jacket-piece for his wife, too. He was not always easy in mind about his wife. When he went home with too much cash, he had always to take care to hide it in an envelope and shove it under a roof tile. Otherwise she asked too many questions and made herself miserable. She liked to believe that he was reformed and earned the cash he showed her as commission; she never bothered to ask what the commissions were for; a commission seemed to her something absolute. Raju jumped down from the banana stack and followed the Green Blazer, always keeping himself three steps behind. It was a nicely calculated distance, acquired by intuition and practice. The distance must not be so much as to obscure the movement of the other’s hand to and from his purse, nor so close as to become a nuisance and create suspicion. It had to be finely balanced and calculated – the same sort of calculations as carry a shikari through his tracking of game and see him safely home again. Only this hunter’s task was more complicated. The hunter in the forest could count his day a success if he laid his quarry flat; but here one had to extract the heart out of the quarry without injuring it. Raju waited patiently, pretending to be examining some rolls of rush mat, while the Green Blazer spent a considerable length of time drinking a coconut at a nearby booth. It looked as though he would not move again at all. After sucking all the water in the coconut, he seemed to wait interminably for the nut to be split and the soft white kernel scooped out with a knife. The sight of the white kernel scooped and disappearing into the other’s mouth made Raju too crave for it. But he suppressed the thought: it would be inept to be spending one’s time drinking and eating while one was professionally occupied; the other might slip away and be lost forever... Raju saw the other take out his black purse and start a debate with the coconut- seller over the price of coconuts. He had a thick, sawing voice which disconcerted Raju. It sounded like the growl of a tiger, but what jungle-hardened hunter ever took a step back because a tiger’s growl sent his heart racing involuntarily! The way the other haggled didn’t appeal to Raju either, it showed a mean and petty temperament... too much fondness for money. Those were the narrow-minded trouble-makers who made endless fuss when a purse was lost... The Green Blazer moved after all. He stopped before a stall flying coloured balloons. He bought a balloon after an endless argument with the shopman – a further demonstration of his meanness. He said: ‘This is for a motherless boy. I have promised it him. If it bursts or gets lost before I go home, he will cry all night, and I wouldn’t like it at all.’ Raju got his chance when the other passed through a narrow stile, where people were passing four-thick in order to see a wax model of Mahatma Gandhi reading a newspaper. Fifteen minutes later Raju was examining the contents of the purse. He went away to a secluded spot, behind a disused well. Its crumbling parapet seemed to offer an ideal screen for his activities. The purse contained ten rupees in cash and 20 in currency notes and a few annas in nickel. Raju tucked the annas at his waist in his loin-cloth. ‘Must give them to some beggars,’ he reflected generously. There was a blind fellow yelling his life out at the entrance to the fair and nobody seemed to care. People seemed to have lost all sense of sympathy these days. The 30 rupees he bundled into a knot at the end of his turban and wrapped this again round his head. It would see him through the rest of the month. He could lead a clean life for at least a fortnight and take his wife and children to a picture. Now the purse lay limp within the hollow of his hand. It was only left for him to fling it into the well and dust it off his hand and then he might walk among princes with equal pride at heart. He peeped into the well. It had a little shallow water at the bottom. The purse might float and a floating purse could cause the worst troubles on earth. He opened the flap of the purse in order to fill it up with pebbles before drowning it. Now, through the slit at its side, he saw a balloon folded and tucked away. ‘Oh, this he bought...’ He remembered the other’s talk about the motherless child. ‘What a fool to keep this in the purse,’ Raju reflected. ‘It is the carelessness of parents that makes young ones suffer,’ he ruminated angrily. For a moment he paused over a picture of the growling father returning home and the motherless one waiting at the door for the promised balloon, and this growling man feeling for his purse... and, oh! it was too painful! Raju almost sobbed at the thought of the disappointed child – the motherless boy. There was no one to comfort him. Perhaps this ruffian would beat him if he cried too long. The Green Blazer did not look like one who knew the language of children. Raju was filled with pity at the thought of the young child – perhaps of the same age as his second son. Suppose his wife were dead... (personally it might make things easier for him, he need not conceal his cash under the roof), he overcame this thought as an unworthy side-issue. If his wife should die it would make him very sad indeed and tax all his ingenuity to keep his young ones quiet... That motherless boy must have his balloon at any cost, Raju decided. But how? He peeped over the parapet across the intervening space at the crowd afar off. The balloon could not be handed back. The thing to do was to put it back into the empty purse and slip it into the other’s pocket. The Green Blazer was watching the heckling that was going on as the Bible-preacher was warming up to his subject. A semi-circle was asking: ‘Where is your God?’ There was a hubbub. Raju sidled up to the Green Blazer. The purse with the balloon (only) tucked into it was in his palm. He’d slip it back into the other’s pocket. Raju realised his mistake in a moment. The Green Blazer caught hold of his arm and cried: ‘Pickpocket!’ The hecklers lost interest in the Bible and turned their attention to Raju, who tried to look appropriately outraged. He cried: ‘Let me go.’ The other, without giving a clue to what he proposed, shot out his arm and hit him on the cheek. It almost blinded him. For a fraction of a second Raju lost his awareness of where and even who he was. When the dark mist lifted and he was able to regain his vision, the first figure he noticed in the foreground was of the Green Blazer, looming, as it seemed, over the whole landscape. His arms were raised ready to strike again. Raju cowered at the sight. He said: ‘I... I was trying to put back your purse.’ The other gritted his teeth in fiendish merriment and crushed the bones of his arm. The crowd roared with laughter and badgered him. Somebody hit him again on the head. Even before the Magistrate Raju kept saying: ‘I was only trying to put back the purse.’ And everyone laughed. It became a stock joke in the police world. Raju’s wife came to see him in jail and said, ‘You have brought shame on us,’ and wept. Raju replied indignantly: ‘Why? I was only trying to put it back.’ He served his term of 18 months and came back into the world – not quite decided what he should do with himself. He told himself; ‘If ever I pick up something again, I shall make sure I don’t have to put it back.’ For now he believed God had gifted the likes of him with only one- way deftness. Those fingers were not meant to put anything back. Still I Rise Maya Angelou You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may trod me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I'll rise. Does my sassiness upset you? Why are you beset with gloom? ’Cause I walk like I've got oil wells Pumping in my living room. Just like moons and like suns, With the certainty of tides, Just like hopes springing high, Still I'll rise. Did you want to see me broken? Bowed head and lowered eyes? Shoulders falling down like teardrops, Weakened by my soulful cries? Does my haughtiness offend you? Don't you take it awful hard ’Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines Diggin’ in my own backyard. You may shoot me with your words, You may cut me with your eyes, You may kill me with your hatefulness, But still, like air, I’ll rise. Does my sexiness upset you? Does it come as a surprise That I dance like I've got diamonds At the meeting of my thighs? Out of the huts of history’s shame I rise Up from a past that’s rooted in pain I rise I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide, Welling and swelling I bear in the tide. Leaving behind nights of terror and fear I rise Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear I rise Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave, I am the dream and the hope of the slave. I rise I rise I rise.