The evolving educators

Dr Amita Chauhan, Chairperson

As an educator, I have always believed that the greatest teachers are those who never stop learning. To guide, shape, and inspire young minds, teachers must always remain curious, open to new ideas and willing to grow with every generation. Hence, at Amity, learning is not confined to students alone. It is woven into the very fabric of the Amity universe, creating an ecosystem where educators, too, learn, reflect, innovate, and evolve.
Our teachers have nurtured generations of doctors, olympians, sportspersons, scientists, entrepreneurs, and achievers who have made India proud. To ensure that our educators nurture the India of tomorrow, Amity meticulously curates Professional Development Programmes (PDPs) that enrich them with the latest pedagogical practices, classroom methodologies, and assessment strategies. We also have sessions addressing their emotional, physical, and mental health as their comfort and well-being is equally important. But PDP is much more than a training programme. It is a vibrant platform where educators come together to share experiences and gain fresh perspectives from experts beyond Amity. PDPs ensure that the Gurus stay enlightened - with transformative knowledge, renewed purpose, and a passion for life-long learning.
As educators, we hold the extraordinary power to shape not merely the future of a child, but, through that child, the future of our nation. Let us, therefore, remain continuous learners of life who can inspire all their students to learn, lead, and transform the world with compassion and courage. 

Sent, via letter

The Handwritten Network Before The Digital Age

Tapasya Aggarwal, XI G &
Parneka Chowdhry, XII J
AIS Gurugram 46

To whom it may concern,
You may be reading this letter through the medium of this tabloid-sized sheet but print news didn’t begin like the newspaper we are familiar with today. News travelled across oceans as letters, from correspondents to editors, on politics, literature, matters of significance, passed from one ‘dear reader’ to another. It echoed the hoarse dialect of ploughmen and the crooked grammar of grandmothers by the hearth. In fact, newspapers didn’t even routinely employ full-time reporters until 19th century. Before that, a ‘journalist’ simply meant the keeper of a journal.
The rise of the Republic of Letters (Res Publica Literaria) helped fuel the Age of Enlightenment in the 17th and 18th centuries, with handwritten correspondence serving as the literal lifeline connecting thinkers such as Voltaire, Locke, and Descartes. They engaged in quasi-public exchanges of philosophical, scientific, and political thought - one letter at a time, each one copied, forwarded, and answered by hands that the original writer would never get to shake.
In this bygone era, a letter belonged neither solely to its writer nor its intended recipient. That frayed piece of parchment acted as a shared possession, belonging to everyone. A philosopher in Paris would scribble a thought to a friend in Prague, who would copy it, add a biting note, and pass it to a physician in Edinburgh, who would then read it aloud to his cat and many others. By the time a working man’s account of factory fumes reached his mother, it would’ve been recited in taverns, churches, and barns, each retelling adding a fresh stitch of outrage or hope.
Twenty-first-century scholars such as Janet Altman have described letters as threads connecting individuals separated by distance, social class, and even gender. As she puts it, “The letter is a uniquely flexible instrument,” with the power to bridge the gap between private and public worlds. So, when the printing press arrived, it had to borrow a familiar identity to carve out its place. Early printed pieces were often disguised as personal letters - signing its polemics with ingenious names like ‘A Gentleman in Town’ or ‘Your Loving Cousin from the Country’.
And now, we, the modern folk, with our glowing rectangles and penchant to scroll, strut about as if we blurred the line between public and private; as though our feeds and notifications are without precedent. But long before any algorithm, brilliant minds sealed a thought in wax and trusted it to travel all the way to its destination. And it did, almost every time, acting as a messenger of information from one corner of the earth to another.
So, this World Letter Writing Day (September 1), perhaps we ought to remember that mass media was once knitted from borrowed needles and tangled yarn - one thought, one hand, one letter at a time. The medium may have changed, but the impulse remains remarkably familiar: to put a thought into words and send it somewhere, never quite knowing how far it might travel.
Yours by proxy,
The unaddressed wanderer 

Beyond labels

Vira Sharma, Managing Editor

Last week as I wandered through the hustle-bustle of the market, I spotted rows of vibrant Rakhis, adding colour and festive cheer to the streets. I was both delighted and amused by the excitement of sisters looking for that perfect thread! And why would they not be? For generations, Rakhi has been associated with a brother’s promise to protect his sister. But this festival is unique because it goes beyond all labels. In Rajasthan, sisters tie lumba rakhi to their brothers’ wives, which symbolises embracing a new member as an integral part of the family. For many years, sisters have been tying Rakhis to their sisters, and brothers to their sisters, making the festival a celebration of mutual care and protection. Our GT edition this week brings to you many such timeless stories; from Yamuna tying a sacred thread to her brother Yama, to Maharani Jindan Kaur seeking refuge through a rakhi, and Queen Karnavati sending one to Humayun in her hour of need. This thread has strengthened relationships and crossed kingdoms as well as borders. The stories of soldiers receiving Rakhis from sisters they have never met is another poignant dimension to this bond. Across India, the festival takes diverse forms - in Maharashtra, it coincides with Narali Purnima, in Andhra Pradesh and Tamil Nadu, with Avani Avittam, while in West Bengal and Odisha, it is part of Jhulan Purnima.
One thread, hundreds of customs, thousands of stories and countless emotions - perhaps that is the beauty of every Indian festival: its timeless message of love, protection, and harmony, much needed in today’s world. 

GT Mail

Dear Editor,
I read the article ‘The multitasking fallacy’ on Page 6 of the August 17, 2026 edition with great interest, and I found it both insightful and relevant. The writer effectively challenges the common belief that multitasking makes us more productive and steers us to the reality of how it involves rapid task-switching, draining our souls. And then at the end of the day we reflect, what is the need when we only have to go back to repeating the same the following day! The relatable examples of phones, notifications, and social media make the message especially meaningful for students. I agree with the suggestions of focusing on one task at a time and using techniques such as the Pomodoro method and following the three-minute rule. Overall, I feel the conversational tone of the article is engaging and worth reading. I wish to congratulate you and your entire team for encouraging creativity to the hilt.
Mili Garg
AIS VKC Lucknow, Teacher