AMITY-UNESCO RESULT
Answer: (Jarawa in Andaman, Lepcha in Sikkim,Jaunsari in Uttarakhand, Kondh in Orissa,
Bodo in Assam, Khasi in Meghalaya, Gond in Madhya Pradesh, Gaddi in Himachal Pradesh,
Rabari in Gujarat, Bhil in Rajasthan)
“Alright, honey, time to give some honey.” I murmured, carefully extracting honey from the comb. While most people collect coins, stamps, or shoes, my grandad, whom I call Gigi, collected flowers. This riot of colour inevitably drew butterflies, moths, and of course, honey bees.
That particular afternoon, I dozed off in the garden. When Gigi came to call me in for lunch, he stumbled upon an extraordinary sight - bees swarming around me. Instead of fear, it sparked my lifelong fascination with bees. From that day, my playful connection with them began. By the time I was an adult, I knew I wanted to be a beekeeper. My parents were hesitant, but in the end, they chalked it up to the family’s penchant for eccentricity.
“Bumble, how much did you collect today?” Gigi asked, using his affectionate nickname for me. “500 grams!” I grinned. “Good progress, but it’s not enough,” he said in a serious tone. “Let’s get straight to the point. If you don’t collect 50 lbs of honey by the end of the month, I’ll have to sell Buzz Inc to Winfrey Honey Ltd.”
My heart sank. “But, Gigi-” “No buts. We don’t have enough funds to keep supporting this hobby of yours. They’re offering good money, and if we don’t take it, we could face bankruptcy.”
It hit me like a brick. I’d been treating beekeeping like a leisurely pursuit, unaware of the strain it was putting on Gigi and the family’s finances. Our once thriving business had suffered, and while I pursued a field I loved, I hadn’t noticed the toll it was taking.
I sat in the garden, overwhelmed with guilt, tears slipping down my cheeks. Suddenly, I heard a soft voice, “We can help you.”
Startled, I looked around, but no one was there. Then I heard it again. “Bumble, it’s me.” I glanced at my shoulder and there sat a bee. “Am I losing it?” I whispered. “No, you’re not,” it replied. “We’re here to repay a favour. Remember when you saved our hive from being destroyed by that construction company? You moved us to a safer place in Gigi’s garden. Now, it’s time for us to return the favour.” “But how?” I asked, incredulous. “How can you possibly help me collect 50 lbs of honey?” “Not just 50 lbs,” the bee said, “I’ll bring my cousins from nearby forests, and together we’ll create hundreds of honeycombs!”
And so, as promised, the garden buzzed to life. Every tree was soon crowned with honeycombs, and by the end of the month, I presented Gigi with 10,000 lbs of honey. The sight of that much honey left him speechless. With the financial crisis averted, we rejected Winfrey’s offer, and Buzz Inc soared to new heights.
Even though that first bee and its generation have since passed, their descendants continue to thrive in our garden.
The oyster’s ballad
Siya Makhija, AIS Vas 6, XII E
There was once a white oyster
Who lived deep under the sea
Whose little story you’re about
To enthrallingly hear from me
The oyster enjoyed a jolly life
He lived all hearty and hale
Was never under the weather
And never seemed to be pale
But alas, comes an awful day
Disaster washed onto his way
For a teeny tiny grain of sand
Just came and ruined his day
The grain got under his skin
And refused to ever clear out
Try as he might, poor oyster
Couldn’t even scream or shout
He suffered inexplicable agony
Evoked sympathy from the sea
Suddenly, he thought of a plan
To improve the grain of sand
Then turn and lo and behold
In sparkles, what do we see?
The grain turned into a pearl
Beautiful and bright as can be
Like this tale of white oyster
There is also similarity in life
It is inevitable that we endure
Some suffering and some strife
Luckily, this does not mean
That there isn’t any remedy
All that you really have to do
Is have fervent faith in Thee
And so, I shall now conclude
But before parting I must say
At the end of the dark tunnel
There is always a bright ray.