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Indian Express
6 days ago
- Health
- Indian Express
Whole wheat burgers, millet pasta: How Delhi schools are serving up healthier menus
Priti Bali works her magic in the kitchen by asking one question: How can a meal be more interesting? 'Kids love flavour, texture, variety,' says the Delhi-based award-winning food entrepreneur who consults for six private schools in the city. 'If the food looks exciting and tastes good, they're not going to ask whether it has maida or not.' Bali's approach aligns well with the Central Board for Secondary Education's recent directive to display oil and sugar boards in schools. The boards are to be installed in shared common spaces with the aim to educate students as well as the teachers on the harmful effects of high ocnsumption of fat, oil, and sugar. But for Bali, it's not just about nutritional transparency. It's going a little further by changing habits subtly. 'You can't just tell children what not to eat. You have to show them there's something better.' From millet-based pizzas to homemade corn chips, her menu reads like a chef's answer to a nutritionist's wishlist. 'I make dal makhani without cream… I use butter and crushed cashews and almonds,' Bali says. Burgers come on millet buns, coleslaw is made with hung curd, and homemade Mediterranean dips like tzatziki — a Greek-style yoghurt dip known for its gut-friendly properties — replace anything processed, especially Mayonnaise. 'You have to keep it fun,' she says. During winters, she introduces jaggery-based drinks that help clear the lungs. 'Healthy food doesn't have to come with warnings,' she says. 'It should come with flavour.' Schools, meanwhile, have taken a leaf out of her book by revamping canteen menus and introducing food-related projects. At ITL Public School, Ritu Sharma, academic coordinator, accompanied a group of Class 12 students to Shimla earlier this year. The students were given full freedom; some had money, others had access to kettles in their hotel rooms. But not one reached for instant noodles, Sharma says. 'They stuck to the school's planned meals. Some even brought home-packed food. That was new.' The school also tracks daily cafeteria feedback, conducts interdisciplinary projects around food labels and health, and ensures every student undergoes medical checkups twice a year. 'Fruit breaks, peer educator programmes, and now the CBSE's sugar and oil boards have all helped build awareness,' says Sumana Goswami, coordinator of Class 9 and 10 classes at the school. 'We have seen thyroid and ovarian issues in senior classes. Children do become stressed and tired. Physical activities in the school make a huge difference,' Sharma says. For Shalini Choudhary, headmistress at Mamta Modern School in Vikaspuri, the shift was noticeable at home. 'My son came back from school and said, 'Mama, kal lunch mein pickle dena (Ma, don't add pickle to my lunch tomorrow)',' she recalls. 'He didn't even know what a pickle was… we don't eat it at home. He'd tasted it from a classmate's tiffin.' That one sentence said everything about how children absorb food culture through their peers, and how schools influence the food choices, Choudhary realised. At her school, sugar boards are now displayed in the secondary wing, and fruit and vegetable theme days are held to nudge children towards healthier choices. 'In primary classes, parents still control the food,' she says. 'But by middle school, peer influence and coaching schedules take over.' At DPS Mathura Road, a revamped menu now features rajma rice, whole wheat burgers, semolina pasta, and drinks like chaach and coconut water. 'We've cut down on oily dishes like puri chole to once a week,' says Kamna Arora, coordinator for Classes 3 to 5. 'And we reserve one day when children can have what they like, French fries, honey chilli potato. But the rest of the week is clean.' In pre-primary classes, 'Healthy Tiffin Weeks' are now frequent, with games, story sessions, and reward charts encouraging children to bring fruits, vegetables, and homemade snacks. At Sri Venkateshwar International School, the canteen doesn't sit in a corner of the school; it is brought to the students. Each day, a mobile food stall is set up outside a different classroom. Trisha, a Class 12 student, loves (millet-based) pasta day. Her friends, Avni and Tuhina, say that between coaching classes and long school days, planning healthy meals at home is a struggle. 'At least here, we know the food's strictly healthy,' Avni says. 'We use palm oil instead of refined, limit spice, and constantly update our menu based on feedback,' says Ushma Kapoor, foundational years in charge. 'It's not just about what's in the food, but about teaching children how to think about food.' Doctors agree that the food boards are a step in the right direction in educating students. 'It is not about eating less food,' says Dr Nitin Verma, Director of Paediatrics at Madhukar Rainbow Children's Hospital. 'It is about eating the right food.' He warns that the early introduction of sugar can raise the risk of Type 2 diabetes, and says screen-heavy routines have led to a dangerous combination of sedentary lifestyles and junk food addiction. The CBSE boards, he says, are a good start, but he emphasises that more is needed: 'Schools should offer real alternatives: avocado toast, sprouts, protein-rich meals. Don't ban. Replace.' At Orchids International School, Gurgaon, Principal Dr Chaitini Kumar says, 'Binge-eating is a concern… When I was in Mumbai, a grade 2 student had obesity issues. Her parents were frustrated that she only eats aloo puri… we gave her a lot of options, but she wouldn't eat… So that happens a lot.' At the same school, a Class 9 boy says, 'When I was in Class 5, I was addicted to sugary food. After some time, when I entered Class 7, I understood the harm it has on the body. That's when I decided to reduce it.' Schools are also trying to balance health goals with student preferences. At Amity International School, Saket, the canteen menu includes familiar favourites like rajma chawal, chhole chawal, chana kulcha, idli sambhar, and vegetarian fried rice with manchurian. Among students, the most popular dish is vegetable chowmein. While the noodles are made using maida, the school has added more vegetables to enhance their nutritional value. Principal Divya Bhatia says, 'Chips and aerated drinks are not served. We are also contemplating adding sprout chaat, wheat kathis and beetroot rolls.' The canteen is open to students from Class VI onwards, while students of Classes IV and V are allowed to purchase food on specific days. At DPS Mathura Road, Kamna Arora, coordinator for Classes 3 to 5, explains, 'There are two kinds of parents. Some are very health conscious and support these changes. But others insist on keeping items their child likes — like noodles.' To find a middle ground, the school includes items like fries or veg manchurian once a week, while focusing on healthier options the rest of the time. On a Friday morning in her office, Arora flips through a student's notebook from Class IV, where she's checking diagrams of human teeth. One page, written in neat handwriting, poses the question: 'What is a balanced diet?' She explains that the lesson connects the two on how poor eating habits, like excess sugar or lack of nutrients, can lead to tooth decay and other oral health issues. 'These lessons are embedded across subjects,' she says. 'It becomes more detailed in Class V and above, but the foundation is laid early. Every moment in school is an opportunity to reinforce it.'
Scroll.in
15-07-2025
- Politics
- Scroll.in
Hindi's Hindutva problem that supporters are not ready to reckon with
The controversy in Maharashtra over the imposition of Hindi has once again brought the language to the centre of a national debate. In April, the Bharatiya Janata Party-led Maharashtra government issued an order making Hindi a compulsory third language in schools. The move faced fierce opposition and criticism from the parties led by cousins Raj Thackeray and Uddhav Thackeray, following which it was swiftly rolled back in June. But the episode has stirred discomfort beyond Maharashtra, particularly in the so-called Hindi heartland. On social media, many self-identified Hindi-speakers expressed anger, not only at the rejection of Hindi in the classroom, but at reports that individuals in Mumbai had been physically assaulted for speaking Hindi, accused of ignoring Marathi. This has triggered the familiar argument: no one should be forced to speak a language nor prevented from speaking one. Yet those voicing this sentiment are often silent when Hindi is imposed elsewhere – through state policy, bureaucracy, or cultural dominance. They regard Hindi as a necessary, if bitter, medicine – one that will supposedly integrate the 'non-Hindi' Indian into the national mainstream. At the same time, many of these voices oppose Karnataka's directive that all schools, including central boards, like the Central Board for Secondary Education, introduce Kannada. Why should Hindi be compulsory in non-Hindi regions but not Kannada in Karnataka? If Hindi is necessary to thrive in India, why is Kannada not essential for life in Bengaluru? It is important to be clear here: those who attack others for not speaking Marathi are not defenders of the language. They are agents of a majoritarian politics in which Marathi is merely a pretext. The same, in truth, applies to the loudest champions of Hindi. Their allegiance is not to a literary tradition or linguistic richness but a political project: Hindi becomes a vehicle, not a value. In Tamil Nadu, no one is stopping anyone from learning Hindi, but imposition is wrong. If you want to impose Hindi in Tamil Nadu, then let's impose Tamil in Uttar Pradesh: @dharanisalem, Spokesperson, DMK #PawanKalyan #Super6 #HindiLanguage #LanguageRow | @akshita_n — IndiaToday (@IndiaToday) July 14, 2025 When violence is enacted in the name of language, the issue ceases to be linguistic. It becomes a matter of power, of asserting dominance over communities that are seen as outsiders. Especially when such violence is collective and organised, language becomes a stand-in for territorial control and cultural assertion. Some Hindi speakers protest: 'We have never forced our language on anyone.' But this selective memory erases the lived reality of non-Hindi speakers in cities like Delhi, Patna, or Varanasi – Tamils, Malayalis, Manipuris – who have acquired functional, even fluent, Hindi through daily life, not coercion. Their children learn it in school. But must the same logic apply in reverse? Should residents of Tamil Nadu or Karnataka be expected to mirror this? The claim that Hindi makes one 'more Indian' is deeply flawed. Does speaking or knowing Hindi confer a deeper Indianness? Are Hindi speakers more Indian than those who speak Tamil, Assamese, or Bengali? The myth of Hindi as India's unifying language has long been dismantled. Today, for better or worse, English functions as the lingua franca across universities, courts, corporations and bureaucracies. Not knowing Hindi is not a barrier to participating in public life. Those who insist otherwise are rarely asked: in what way is Hindi essential? Supporters of Hindi often express surprise at the resistance the language faces in Maharashtra, Tamil Nadu or Karnataka. Why, they ask, should people oppose Hindi so vehemently? Why should they – the Hindiwalas – be expected to learn regional languages? Many even dream of a future where every Indian learns Hindi, so that they can relate to the Hindi speaker. A recent video showed a bank employee in Bengaluru declaring that she would speak only in Hindi with a customer. Where once public-facing professionals – doctors, clerks, shopkeepers – learned the local language, today there is defiance: 'We will not speak Kannada. You must speak our Hindi.' Viral video shows a bank manager in Karnataka refusing to speak Kannada, insisting on Hindi: 'I will not speak Kannada for you.' The incident has sparked outrage, drawing sharp criticism from Kannada activists and political leaders. — Mojo Story (@themojostory) May 22, 2025 What lies behind this entitlement? Do Hindi speakers believe they own the country by sheer force of numbers? Do they see their claim on the republic as more legitimate than that of others? Is Delhi the centre and the rest of India their fiefdom? Is that why they feel no obligation to learn Marathi in Mumbai, while expecting Mumbaikars to speak Hindi? Why is that even in Mumbai, the city of Hindi cinema, there is resistance to Hindi? Because the spread of Hindi is not organic. It travels not by affection, but by state sponsorship: through official mandates, public funds and policy incentives. It is buoyed by the demographic muscle it enjoys in Parliament and bureaucracy. No other Indian language enjoys the same institutional backing. In Indian embassies, officers are assigned to promote Hindi. Government recruitment prioritises Hindi translators over others. Official communication defaults to Hindi even in places and institutions where it is unnecessary. They see massive funds being allocated for Hindi to be made a language of the United Nations Organisation. Speakers of Tamil, Bengali, Malayalam see this and understand the politics behind it. They, too, are citizens of this republic. They, too, are entitled to cultural dignity and state resources. But Hindi gets a differential treatment by the Union government, privileged over others. Why must one learn Hindi? Is it a repository of global knowledge? A gateway to world literature? Would a Tamil speaker feel drawn to Hindi for these reasons? The answer is no. Nor is Hindi a bridge to the country's many languages. Translation initiatives, by Sahitya Akademi, National Book Trust, remain sparse and focused mostly on creative literature. Most of these works are already more widely accessible in English. Once again, Hindi appears optional, not essential. It is unfortunate that the BJP continues to feed the illusion that Hindi is now receiving its rightful place through measures like introducing it as a medium of medical or engineering education. These initiatives were announced with fanfare and quietly abandoned when students rejected them. Yet, the party continues to boast of these policies, misleading Hindi speakers and offering them a false sense of linguistic pride. They live in a bubble of self-deception. Today, Hindi's most potent function is not literary or cultural but political. That explains the opposition to it. The Hindiwalas often say that it is the politicians of these non-Hindi states who oppose Hindi whereas the people are learning it. That is exactly the point. There is no opposition to Hindi as a language but Hindi as the vehicle of North India-centric majoritarian politics. Hindi is vital to the project of Hindutva. One must ask why the ideologues of Hindutva, most of them from Maharashtra, choose Hindi as their language of power? The answer is not cultural, but demographic. The Hindi belt is the largest reservoir of the imagined Hindi/Hindu majority. Here, Hindutva manufactures its strength of numbers. How is this number fabricated? Those who identify Hindi as their mother tongue are often either Bhojpuri or Maithili or Bajjika speakers. Hindi is not their first language. But they are counted as Hindi speakers which helps swell the number of Hindi speakers. Those who remember Partition can recall how Urdu speakers entered Hindi as their mother tongue. The battle for Hindi and against Urdu was fought in the medium of Urdu. This was to inflate the numbers of the Hindi speakers. In this sense, Hindi is not a language but an instrument of majoritarian politics. Three years ago, a Bengali friend from Jabalpur told me of an interesting event. A senior leader of the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh – himself a Bengali – addressed a gathering of Bengalis in Hindi in a bold, even insolent, gesture. His reasoning: Bengalis, he claimed, originally migrated from Kannauj in Uttar Pradesh, so Hindi is their true tongue. They must adopt and own it as their language, he insisted. This is the logic behind the RSS slogan in Bengal: 'No Durga, No Kali; Only Ram and Bajrangbali.' To replace Durga with Ram is to overwrite Bengali cultural identity with a north India-centric Hindi-ised Hindutva identity. Similarly, the elevation of the deity Vamana over Bali in Kerala represents an effort to impose a Sanskritic, North Indian order on Dravidian memory and Malayalam culture. Let there be no ambiguity about the project of this political Hindi: the Hindi promoted today is not the Hindi of Gandhi, writers and poets like Premchand, Mahadevi Verma, Muktibodh, Agyeya or Omprakash Valmiki. It is not the syncretic Hindi that embraced Urdu. What is seen today is a purified, Sanskritised and sanitised version, purged of 'foreign' words, molded into a Hindu tongue. This is a resentful, weaponised Hindi, the Hindi of Hindutva. That is why political scientist Suhas Palshikar warns that leaders like Raj Thackeray and Uddhav Thackeray, if they continue their dalliance with Hindutva, will soon find themselves ensnared by this Hindi. Hindutva and Hindi are no longer separable. Why else would Maharashtra Chief Minister Devendra Fadnavis advocate Hindi, or Andhra Pradesh Deputy Chief Minister Pawan Kalyan champion it in the Telugu state? The answer is clear: both are emissaries of Hindutva's politics and Hindi is now its standard. Hindi speakers, too, must confront this uncomfortable truth. For their own sake, and for the sake of Hindi, they must begin the difficult task of disentangling their language from the ideology that now speaks in its name. The sooner this happens, the better. For Hindi. And for the republic.
Time of India
31-05-2025
- Science
- Time of India
CBSE allows Class 10 maths basic students to opt for regular math in class 11
Nagpur: The Central Board for Secondary Education (CBSE) has decided to continue allowing students of Class 10 to pursue regular maths (subject code 041) in Class 11, even if they opted for the simpler version of the subject called maths (Basic) in the Class 10 board exam. The maths (Basic) subject was introduced from the 2020 board exams for students who did not wish to pursue maths at higher levels. This meant they could not opt for engineering courses which required maths at Class 11 and 12. However, ever since the board introduced this policy, students who opted for maths (Basic) in Class 10 were allowed to pursue regular maths in Class 11 through special relaxation in the scheme. CBSE has cited 'pandemic and other issues' as the reason that this relaxation kept getting extended every year. Now, the policy relaxation will continue until further notice, meaning students won't have to wait for year-end circulars from CBSE to confirm whether or not they will get the benefit. CBSE's controller of examination, Sanyam Bhardwaj, however, requested principals to ensure that students have the aptitude to pursue regular maths at Class 11. CBSE's latest communication stated that this policy relaxation will cease once the new scheme of studies is implemented "in pursuance to the recommendations of NCF-SE". From the 2025-26 academic session onwards, students who appeared for Maths (Basic), subject code 241, in Class 10 can now apply for maths (041) in Class 11.
Deccan Herald
24-05-2025
- General
- Deccan Herald
KCET 2025: CBSE students, Bengaluru and Mangaluru colleges bag top ranks
Students from the Central Board for Secondary Education (CBSE) and colleges in Bengaluru and Mangaluru dominated the top ranks in the Karnataka Common Entrance Test (KCET) 2025 results that were announced on Saturday.
