CBSE Affiliation No. 1031254 Mandatory Public DisclosureJhalaria Campus North Campus
CBSE Affiliation No. 1031254

At Home in Indore

Bliss Perry

(Bliss was in Indore for six weeks, with seven other American students, under the NSLI-Y programme, to study Hindi. He was hosted by Ishaan Nyati, Class X G.)

I’ll begin with a bang, by saying that my days in India have been among the most eventful and interesting in my life!
The simple reason: India and its lifestyle are about as far removed from America and its culture as possible, both physically and metaphorically speaking—there’s a reason one has to fly 15+ hours from New York to experience such a change. As one who has traveled somewhat frequently around Europe and Latin America, I

have visited several countries heavily characterized or influenced by Western and North-Atlantic culture. India, however, has been a completely new experience for me, ever since I landed in the Delhi airport. The physical landscape, the food, the architecture, and every last cultural detail, even the way people communicate simple information, are totally novel. Simply put, I have had to carry a little notepad with me everywhere I go just to keep track of all I am absorbing with each and every one of my senses. India is a place where even the most commonplace five minute car rides are interesting opportunities to learn something more about the way life works here.

The place is a wonderful sensory and cultural overload. This dynamic atmosphere pervades throughout this country of over one billion people. Unlike some of Southern Europe’s famously slow lifestyles, something is always happening here: loud mobs of people crossing the street, or a honking swarm of cars, auto-rickshaws, and motorcycles clogging the road, for example. Every morning I stroll out of my house to the scent of spices mixed with smoke, to the milkman’s cries of “Dudh, dudh!” (Milk, milk), to the sights of brightly painted buildings and flashing signs with a mixture of Hindi and English text. While, in Europe, historical sights are generally designated their own areas and separated from everything else, India is so rooted in history and tradition that century-old temples stand right next to modern office-buildings as if someone had created the city-streets as part of a Sims game. The land is so sacred and rooted in religion that people do not set off a designated time of the week to worship but rather breathe their faiths every minute of the day through lifestyle choices like

vegetarianism and ritual greetings like “Jai Shri Ram!” (“Hail Lord Ram,” preferred in my host household). Lastly, India is a heavily diverse land and, while many Western nations (America included) are struggling with such a concept, here, Hindus, Muslims, Sikhs, Jains, and even more groups live side by side, speaking over 400 different languages more unrelated to each other than even English is to Hindi.

A few words about Indian schools in general since they are quite different from American ones. The underlying difference is that, here, education is viewed as sacred. This notion dictates many aspects of the Indian educational system. Teachers are rarely questioned and are treated with utmost respect (even more so than parents) because they are viewed as the messengers of such sacred knowledge. With an application system, stressing examinations much more than America’s holistic system and sheer masses of qualified applicants—you’ll find that India’s academic climate is one of the most competitive of the world. Oftentimes, in order to be accepted into a top university, applicants need to score above 99.6% on their examinations. Therefore, students here are much more studious than their American counterparts, and concepts like procrastination and “winging” homework assignments do not really exist here.

My school, the Shishukunj International School, and the Indian system of education never cease to wow me. Along with the other 7 NSLI-Y students, I attend special Hindi classes here. We’ve already learned quite a bit of Hindi for only two weeks. As Hindi is an Indo-European language related to English, Latin, Greek, and all the others I have studied, it has been quite interesting for me to observe all of the linguistic connections, especially the lexical (tooth: daant, compare with Latin dens, dentis and Greek odous, odontos and English words like dental).
It’s also different enough, however, from English that it has posed an engaging challenge to learn—even the pronunciation, with many aspirated/unaspirated distinctions, retroflex consonants, and nasalized vowels non-existent in English.

Outside of school, my host family has gratefully been committed to showing me as much of Indore as possible. Together, my host family, my classmates, and I have explored its famous palaces, bazaars, and temples—as well as experiencing more modern experiences such as attending birthday parties at the shiny glass malls, swimming at the pool of the renowned Yeshwant Club, and watching Bollywood’s newest hit, Sultan, at the movie theater. Walking around the streets has been, like everything else at this point, a new experience: the streets are utterly jammed with an irregularly moving current of people, cart-vendors, bikes, motorcycles, auto-rickshaws, and cars—not to mention, the cows and herds of goats and sheep, who are the true dictators of traffic.
My classmates and I draw stares from all directions, as Indore does not draw many foreigners. It’s always positive attention, however, and the locals have been quite interested to show us their culture as well as learn about ours—in essence, the goal of the NSLI-Y program.
One particular experience that I have quite enjoyed has been the Indian wedding, of which, to this point, I have attended six. They offer a colorful atmosphere in which tradition prevails: from the interesting rituals of the procession to the Sanskrit chants in the wedding structure. Every event that I have attended has been luxurious beyond belief—decked with celebrity singers and mile-long buffets containing all cuisines from South-Indian to Mexican. One of them was even held in a palace-like structure, with others in fancy hotels, conference centers, and exquisite tents.
Speaking of food, I would like to now elaborate on that which I think has been another important part of my experience. When I was notified before departure that my family would be vegetarian, I—a self- professed “carnivore” and slim eater of vegetables—couldn’t help but be slightly concerned. However, all of such worries have since been alleviated. The vegetables and meat substitutes such as paneer (a type of cheese) here are so fresh, well-prepared and spicy that, in essence, they taste like meat.

Additionally, all the necessary protein and more is provided in lentil dishes like the ubiquitous daal. I’ve gobbled down every last morsel presented on my plate, and have had almost no trouble adjusting to the spiciness of the food. Also, I have quite enjoyed the usage of bread, whether roti, naan, or paratha, as a utensil—it soaks up the flavor of the other dishes quite well. On another note, I have become quite more aware of regional differences within Indian cuisine, from local specialties like poha and jalebi to South Indian dishes like dosa. Lastly, I have experienced the Indian embodiment of other world cuisines, such as Chinese and Italian—just as we Americans have adapted other cultures’ foods to our tastes, so have the Indians.

My first two weeks in India have been so wonderful and I am already learning so much about a part of the world previously unknown to me. More importantly, I feel that I have already forged relationships and lifetime connections with my host family. It has been a delight to have meshed into the complex household atmosphere. I feel so grateful to my host family, my host school, and the United States government for providing me with such a fundamentally life-changing opportunity.
To read about Bliss’ experiences in more detail please visit
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I See

Mansi Choudhary, Class X A

I see you work hard,
I see you burning the midnight oil,
I see you reaping the soil,
I can see the glory approaching,
I’m happy.
I never see you procrastinate,
I never see you shiftless,
I’ve always seen an ambitious you,
I can see the victory coming,
I’m glad.
I see the time change,
I see your memory vanish,
I see you forget everybody,
Except your self,
I see you change; greed and
Arrogance rising,
I’m worried.
I see people forgetting you and
You forgetting them,
I see the pompous you and
Then the broken you,
I’m broken too.

The Skiing Experience

Yuvraj Ahuja, Class IX C

I had this experience when I went to Manali for skiing at the Rohtang Pass. I was very scared that if I fall, I would die. But, the instructor there was very helpful. With some help, I could have the wonderful experience of skiing and I could enjoy the striking beauty of Manali from the hills.
I remember, I remember,
My experience, the fright,
The beauty of that place,
The sport at that place.
I remember, I remember,
The instructor’s efforts
To make me learn to ski
When I thought I could die!

Shubh Harkawat, Class IX C

During the Diwali vacations of 2009, I went to Rohtang Pass. I was seven years old and at that age, it was very difficult for me to climb the hills. I had some breathing problems and was not able to enjoy the snow and skiing. But the scenery was very beautiful. Inspite of being unable to enjoy, I was amazed by the beauty of the Pass and the snow covered peaks around.

That Trip

Simran Makkar, Class IX C

The trip to Udaipur,
Fun and friends,
Shopping and seeing different trends.
The view of the lake,
Pleasant and fresh,
I fell in the lake,
With a swish-swash splash.
Experience of that fall,
Like a scary nightmare,
Still pains me,
Here and there.
My luck be like,
Oh my god!
The next day I lost,
My bag’s lock.
But I enjoyed every moment,
Whether red or blue,
That trip was like a dream come true.

A Memorable Friendship

Arundhati Bajaj, Tanisha Jain, Class IX B

It started with a ‘Hi’
When all of us were shy
We swore never to lie
Until we die.
It was the beginning of our friendship
A memorable Udaipur trip
A loyal relationship
Holding each other in a strong grip.
Our friendship is full of affection
Nothing can be an obstruction
May it be someone’s construction
For our mental distraction.
We promise to be together
As our friendship is forever.

My Memorable Experience

Hridhima Tyagi, Class IX B

It was when I was five that I got a chance to visit the most tranquil place, the forehead of India, Jammu and Kashmir. It was about 5 in the morning when we reached the airport, and I sped out excitedly expecting to jam into knee-deep snow. But to my utmost horror the ground was as dry and bare as in Indore.
I tried to let my spirits live and expect some snow on the peaks and the slopes of mountains, but my grandmother could clearly spot my dashing hopes.
We sat in the taxi which was to drop us to our villa. I deliriously closed my eyes and giggled softly waiting for the snow to come. I remained in the same position till the taxi stopped, and then I slowly opened my eyes to savour the white background, only to find the rocky brown terrain with mere patches of snow here and there which had become black from being treaded upon.
I stamped my foot in frustration and ran inside the villa. My grandmother followed me inside with a strained look on her face. She tried to pacify me with jolly plans of the next few days, but I wouldn’t listen to anything.

I had a bad sleep that night. The next daybreak too I woke up in a foul mood. I sat up gloomily and opened up the window. The sight that met my eyes left me in awe. The whole of the mountains was covered in the whitest snow I’d ever seen and I spotted my grandmother shovelling the front yard. The cold air blasted inside the room. Apart from the Earth, the atmosphere was also flecked with white from the icicles of the perfect shape falling from heaven. The god was showering his blessings……

An Unforgettable Experience

Ayush Khurana, Class IX B

When I was in the seventh grade, my family and I went to a National Park. It was famous for its big cats and deer. I was with my cousins in a jeep when we saw a monkey and her infant. We were going to get down and give them something to eat when a big tiger attacked the mother. Our guide told us that the mother had hid the infant under her. When the tiger had killed the mother, it noticed the infant. But, instead of harming the baby monkey, the tiger pushed it towards a tree and helped it climb the tree. It was strange and unbelievable. I still don’t understand why the tiger did that. Maybe, it was sorry for killing the mother or perhaps it did not want to eat such a small meal or maybe it was not hungry enough!

A Musical Concert

Suneha Jain, Class IX B

One evening, there was a musical concert of two singers – Abhas and Priyani Vani at the Yeshwant Club. Abhas had his first audition in the club. Many people had come to attend the concert as well as the audition. I went to attend the concert with my mother. Both the singers had a very good voice. My mother and I enjoyed a lot. I liked their songs very much. This was the most memorable experience as I had never gone for a concert before.

After Summer ‘16

Ananya Singh, Class XI A

The first day of school, the new session began,
A new chance for us to explore the things we can.
Ten years of friendship, the broken chain,
A few of that group in every section, remain.
We sat there with our new classmates, all heterogeneous,
Our future plans and goals were still ambiguous.
The concepts were different and the subjects were too,
But we were able to cope up, with the teachers’ woos.
Everyday, trying to relate with everything new,
The sarcastic jokes had become few.
We miss those days, the playground, the sky,
Now burdened with books piled up so high.
Those days in the library, with our friends are gone,
Will they ever come back, I ponder upon.
The ground we used to play upon, is just a clod for us now
When did we all grow up, will someone tell me how?
Till tenth it was a piece of cake, as our mind conceived
But this year, we’ll face and accept the challenges we receive.
Oh, where are those days, when we used to eat in the mess,
Got stars in our notebooks from the class mistress?
‘Stand outside the class’, the glare our teachers gave,
Whenever we used to be late or when we misbehaved.
They call us grown ups, new to the world,
We need to face the challenges that people hurl.
Mature, grown up, strong are we!
Ready to hide the pain, no one can ever see.