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India Today
40 minutes ago
- Business
- India Today
Extracurricular or extra-charge? What schools aren't telling you
Delhi-based Ritu Mehra was thrilled when her son's school introduced a new after-school "Leadership Through Theatre" programme. That excitement quickly turned into disbelief when she saw the fee rs. 25,000 for a 12-week course. "The only thing he enjoyed," she laughs wryly, "was the snacks."Across India's Tier 1 and Tier 2 cities, a quiet revolution is underway, and it's hitting parents squarely in the pocket. From "Coding for Kids" and "Young CEO Bootcamps" to "Olympiad Crash Courses" and "MUN Coaching," extracurricular activities (ECAs) have become a booming industry inside schools. But are they helping students grow or just padding already bloated school bills?advertisementTHE PRICE OF PARTICIPATIONIndia's National Education Policy (NEP) 2020 strongly encourages holistic development. But in practice, most ECAs are outsourced to third-party vendors, and access is limited to those who can afford to COST OF ECAS IN PRIVATE URBAN SCHOOLS:Coding classes (8 weeks): rs. 15,000- rs. 20,000 MUN participation/coaching: rs.5,000 - rs. 12,000Music or dance clubs: rs. 6,000- rs.15,000 per termOlympiad preparation: rs. 8,000-rs. 25,000 annuallyAnd that's apart from regular school fees, uniforms, books, and transport which already run into lakhs per year. "I paid rs. 18,000 for an annual music class my son's only takeaway was that he liked the snacks served after class." Parent, MumbaiRESUME PADDING, NOT SKILL BUILDING?The push for ECAs is often driven by a desire to build a "well-rounded profile" for university admissions. But experts warn that doing too many superficial activities can lead to burnout without real learning. "We're seeing a disturbing trend of quantity over quality kids juggling five clubs but mastering none," says Sangeeta Menon, an education consultant based in Bengaluru. "Colleges abroad can spot this quickly."In many cases, these ECAs lack qualified mentors, follow no structured curriculum, and are treated as box-ticking VS THE WORLD: THE ECA GAP A look at how India compares with other countries shows a major disparity - not just in cost, but also in approach and outcomes. "In the US, my daughter joined the school orchestra for free. In India, every activity is a business model," says Shruti Verma, an NRI parent who recently moved back to India."Extra-curriculars are important, but commodification kills their essence. They must be inclusive, not elite," says Dr. Samina Qureshi, a child psychologist and education ALL BAD WHEN DONE RIGHTThat said, when pursued with depth and consistency, ECAs can shape critical life skills: leadership, creativity, collaboration, and emotional intelligence. Students who have competed in Olympiads over several years or taken part in MUNs consistently often emerge with stronger communication and analytical these outcomes require time, interest, and a supportive system not a pay-per-class DO WE GO FROM HERE?advertisementExperts suggest a few simple reforms to stop ECAs from becoming exclusive:Schools should integrate ECAs into the regular timetable, not treat them as expensive outsourcing, and train in-house teachers for clubs and skill-based depth over variety - let students explore fewer activities with more fee caps or government guidelines for ECAs, especially in CBSE/ICSE-affiliated schools.A SYSTEM NEEDING BALANCEIndia's booming ECA market reflects ambition from schools, parents, and students alike. But ambition without equity creates exclusion. And extracurriculars without heart become just another financial burden. As schools push the boundaries of learning, the question remains: Are we nurturing talent or just billing it? - Ends
The Hindu
an hour ago
- Entertainment
- The Hindu
Storee Ki Boree reiterates the role of storytelling in child development
In a fast-paced world, where gadgets and technology dominate our lives, stories and theatre can play a powerful role in connecting us to ourselves. Delhi-based theatre collective, Storee Ki Boree, recently staged its latest production, Ka Se Kahani , at the LTG Auditorium, Mandi House. A heart-warming story set in a village backdrop, the play is about love, learning, second chances and the magic that happens when generations truly connect. It traces the quiet yet radical journey of Vijaya, a 60-year-old woman at a village in North Karnataka, who decides to learn to read, guided by her granddaughter, Seeya. This theatrical adaptation was inspired by 'How I Taught My Grandmother to Read' — a short story by well-known author Sudha Murty. Directed and designed by film and theatre actor, Munish Sharma, the production weaves together dialogue, movement and music to create an immersive experience that resonates with audience across ages. Dialogues are by Mrinal Mathur and dramaturgy support by Kavitha (Vishwa Shilpi Art Consultation, Bengaluru). 'As a storyteller and an educator, Ka Se Kahani reminded me how stories, when told right, can be gentle revolutions,' says Shraddha Gupta, founder of Storee Ki Boree. When Shraddha returned from London, her children had 'nothing but malls for entertainment', she felt the need to tell them about our rich culture and heritage. The journey began at a nurturing space called Learning Tree, where she worked with children and discovered the power of listening. 'When you truly listen, you see how deeply children feel and how naturally they express themselves through stories. That's what led to Storee Ki Boree,' she says. Known for its emotionally rich, child-led storytelling, it honours the child's voice — not just as a performer, but as storytellers in their own right. Since 2008, Storee Ki Boree has staged more than 50 original productions in over 11 cities and has trained more than 10,000 children and adults through its theatre and storytelling workshops. From The Nutcracker to Krishna Katha, it has hosted everything from mythology to modern tales. For instance, Ramlila,which has had over 200 housefull shows, is a nice blend of mythology and modernity told with humour and imagination. Further, Kabuliwala, a Tagore classic, has been equally loved for its emotional depth and simplicity. Pause and reflect The team consists of not just theatre-makers, but also passionate educators, artistes and child-development specialists, who believe in the transformative power of stories. 'Our goal has always been to nurture self-expression while building trust, awareness and respect in every interaction — on and off stage,' says Shraddha. Alongside theatre, they also design leadership workshops to help build confidence, communication and empathy in children. The collective's work is informed by its understanding of child protection and safety frameworks, such as POCSO, which helps them ensure emotionally and physically safe spaces for every child.
India Today
2 hours ago
- Health
- India Today
Samosa, Jalebi and a side of perspective: Not every treat needs a warning label
It is true that there are only a few things more comforting, or more desi, than the joy of biting into a hot samosa with evening tea or savouring a crisp jalebi on a lazy Sunday morning. For many, these aren't just snacks. They're shared traditions, accessible indulgences, and, in many households, the only affordable was tested when reports surfaced earlier this week suggesting that our beloved street-side staples might soon carry health warning labels. The backlash was swift and visceral. It felt like more than just bureaucratic overreach, but a cultural panic, however, was misplaced. On July 15, the Union Health Ministry clarified that it had no intention of labelling Indian snacks with red alerts. Instead, its advisory focusses on awareness, recommending the display of simple advisory boards about excessive oil and sugar consumption in canteens, cafeterias, and lobbies. It's not about fear. It's about ISN'T THE VILLAINLet's face it: samosas are deep-fried, and jalebis are soaked in syrup. No one's claiming that these snack items are superfoods. But what's often overlooked is how simple and honest these foods really are. They're made from familiar ingredients; flour, potatoes, sugar, curd, spices and are usually cooked fresh and eaten no long ingredient list, no chemical cocktails, no shelf life measured in most importantly, they're affordable. Like Dr. Anjali Ahuja, a Delhi-based dietician, points out: 'A plate of samosa and jalebi is one of the few pleasures still within reach of the aam aadmi. While in isolation, we could label these snack items to be unhealthy, but we must also consider affordability, access, and cultural context while doing so.'According to clinical nutritionists, before we rush to vilify these treats, here's a look at the bare facts. A samosa (100g) contains 260–300 calories and 15g of fat. A jalebi (single piece) contains 50g of fat and around 150 they calorie-dense? Yes. Are they indulgences? Absolutely. But compare that with a fast-food cheeseburger which also contains 300 calories and 13g of fat. A slice of pizza contains 290 calories and 12g of numbers don't make the samosa (or even the jalebi) an outlier. But there's a deeper difference worth CALORIES BUT CHEMISTRYWhat separates traditional Indian snacks from their Western fast-food counterparts isn't just calories, it is their composition. That's where the real health debate must begin. 'Samosas and jalebis are made from whole, recognisable ingredients,' says Dr. Rohan Dua, a cardiologist and public health advocate. 'They're certainly not healthy foods, but they're understandable. Your body knows how to process them.'Now consider a typical burger which contains:An ultra-processed bun filled with emulsifiers and dough conditionersA processed cheese slice (which is a choice for some), not real cheese, but a blend of stabilisers and coloursSauces that are loaded with high-fructose corn syrup and you're consuming isn't food, but a formulation engineered for long shelf life, consistent taste, and also for maximum consumption. "The human body has evolved to digest food, not synthetic combinations of chemicals that mimic it," explains Dr. IS ON SHELFadvertisementThe takeaway is simple. It's definitely not the occasional samosa that we consume on a rainy evening but the daily dependence on processed, packaged snacks marketed as 'healthy' that deserves our biscuits, 'lite' chips, zero-sugar drinks, protein bars: these have quietly replaced home-cooked meals in many households. Yet their health claims often mask the reality of chemical additives, hidden sugars, and synthetic Health Ministry's real target, packaged foods, is where the focus should remain. Labels on those products make sense as they empower consumers to read between the lines of marketing and then go ahead and make informed OVER BLAMEIf there's one thing this week's samosa-jalebi scare teaches us, it's that context matters, as does culture and, more importantly, should absolutely talk about nutrition, but let's not allow health advocacy to become blind to nuance. Not every fried or sweet thing is the enemy. Sometimes, the most dangerous foods are the ones we've stopped questioning because they wear a fake 'healthy' yes, have that samosa, also enjoy the jalebi. Just know what you're eating, and how often. The real danger is not the treat that you savour in moderation, it's the processed product you consume every day without ever stopping to ask: what's really in this? That, frankly, is a truth that needs no red label.- Ends
The Hindu
3 hours ago
- Health
- The Hindu
The journey from pain to purpose of acid attack survivors
In 2009, Shaheen Malik, who was then 26 and also pursuing MBA, was attacked with acid outside her workplace. The reason: her colleagues felt threatened by her confidence and competence. It left Shaheen's face and vision permanently altered. 'I still remember the green colour of that liquid,' she says. 'For a second, I thought it was a prank. But the burning told me it was not.' She underwent 25 reconstructive surgeries. Even after a decade-and-a-half of the incident, her legal battle continues. Shaheen remembers how, in the beginning, hospitals refused to admit her because she could not pay up ₹5,00,000. 'What happened to me, happens to many. What does not happen is justice, support, or basic human care,' she says. The gap between trauma and treatment led Shaheen to set up Brave Souls on July 5, 2021. What started off as a Delhi-based NGO has grown into a pan-India movement offering medical and legal support to acid attack survivors. 'But more than that, a second chance at life for them,' she adds. Brave Souls, say the beneficiaries, is a sanctuary for survival, self-respect, and soaring dreams for women whose stories have unspeakable pain and unimaginable resilience. When Shaheen launched the organisation, she had nothing, no money. Only a vision that no survivor should feel helpless like shedid. Today, the organisation offers reconstructive surgeries, trauma counselling, legal assistance, literacy training, yoga, and vocational skills, all aimed at making the acid attack survivors financially independent. It works in cities across Haryana, Punjab, Chandigarh, Kolkata, and Delhi, and will soon open in Uttar Pradesh. From street plays to courtrooms and hospital ICUs to dance studios, the organisation has become a force behind the acid attack victims. Here, recovery of an affected person does not end with surgery. It begins when the survivor begins to live again. 'We organise dance sessions, music classes, and outings to public places,' says Shaheen because she believes, 'people must see them, and they must see people'. One initiative last Summer involved setting up a water and sharbat stall at Nizamuddin. People kept pouring in and many also stopped to ask who they were. 'This simple curiosity is the first step to awareness,' says Shaheen. She remembers a moving incident involving a family of seven who were all victims of an acid attack, which included a six-month-old and a 60-year-old. Initially turned away by private hospitals for lack of funds, the NGO fought to get them treatment under a Supreme Court ruling. Shaheen talks of Gulnas, a young woman who lost everything but not her spunk in the acid attack. 'Today, she works at an American firm and has received ₹38 lakh as the highest-ever compensation for gender-based violence. 'She showed me what true transformation looks like,' says Shaheen. Preeti who was set afire by her husband saw herself burning like Holi Dahan. A traumatised and suicidal Preeti was brought to the shelter by Shaheen. She has had four reconstructive surgeries and is learning to smile again. 'Sometimes the mirror still scares me. But I remind myself I did not do anything wrong. The one who harmed me should be ashamed, not me,' says Preeti. At 14, Rahat refused a boy's advances. In retaliation, he threw acid on her. The culprit was sentenced to eight years. Today, Rahat lives in the Brave Souls home, stitching clothes and holding on to her faith. 'I will continue to work hard and believe something good will come,' she says. When asked how she defines strength, Shaheen says, 'It is not taking revenge but showing up every day when hiding is easier and dreaming big when everyone tells you not to.'
Hindustan Times
4 hours ago
- Politics
- Hindustan Times
The Yashpal Kapur story, his legacy in Raebareli and how today's generation hardly remembers him
Yashpal Kapur with former PM Indira Gandhi (Picture provided by Kapur's son Ashok Kapur) He was in his early 20s when Ram Sewak Chaudhary travelled for the first time outside his hamlet of Rae Bareli. It was the late 1960s, and Chaudhary was in Delhi with his friends. The group was walking past the PM's then residence on Safdarjung Road when they noticed a clot of farmers waiting to meet then PM Indira Gandhi. Intrigued, they too joined the queue and were ushered into a big hall where Gandhi spent a few minutes with the whole group. Upon learning that the young men were from Rae Bareli, her family pocket borough, she called for her aide from the region, a man in his 40s. That was the first time Chaudhary met Yashpal Kapur, then Gandhi's private secretary. 'It seemed Kapur was among the most powerful men in that room,' said Chaudhary, sitting in a small two-room house in ITI colony of Rae Bareli. Now 78, Chaudhary remembered Kapur coming down to Rae Bareli in 1970, talking to local Congress leaders for the upcoming 1971 elections, spending nights at the local party office and beginning the canvassing process for Indira Gandhi. 'His contacts were a niche set of Congress leaders,' said Chaudhary. 'Kapur was the eyes and ears of Indira ji,' said Shiv Manohar Pandey, a local expert. That would prove to be a turning point in Indian democracy. Four years after she won the Rae Bareli parliamentary election by 110,000 votes, Indira Gandhi's victory was voided by a momentous Allahabad high court judgment that precipitated the Emergency. HT looks back at the life and work of the man who was at the centre of this crisis. Kapur was born in Rawalpindi in 1929 and finished his schooling in the erstwhile undivided India. He joined the external affairs ministry as a stenographer in 1954-55. 'Pandit ji then retained my father as an assistant private secretary. His role continued till 1960. Then my father was attached with Indira ji; in 1962, when Indira ji contested elections, my father looked after her administrative office. Over a period of time, my father became an officer-on-special duty,' said his son Ashok Kapur, a Delhi-based businessman. As the 1971 elections approached, Kapur left the secretariat to become Indira Gandhi's election agent for Rae Bareli. For his services, he was rewarded with a Rajya Sabha seat from Uttar Pradesh in 1972, and he served in the Upper House till 1978. But his role during the 1971 election campaign came under the scanner when Indira Gandhi's then vanquished opponent, Raj Narain, filed a petition in the high court, accusing the then PM of corrupt practices. Justice Jagmohanlal Sinha threw out most of the charges, but found two credible – one that Kapur and other officials such as the then district magistrate arranged rostrums, loudspeakers, barricades and police posting during an election tour; and that Indira Gandhi used the service of a gazetted officer, as Kapur was before he resigned, to make election speeches. The case hinged on the date Kapur resigned. He submitted his resignation from the post of officer on special duty on January 13, 1971 and a notification was issued on January 25, 1971. He was appointed Indira Gandhi's election agent on February 4, 1971. But the high court found that Kapur delivered election speeches on January 7, 1971 and January 19, 1971 – before his resignation was officially accepted. This, the judgment held, put Indira Gandhi afoul of the Representation of the People Act, a contention later upheld by the Supreme Court on June 24, 1975. The next day, Emergency was imposed. Roughly 100km from Lucknow is the hamlet of Rae Bareli, with old connections to both Motilal and Jawaharlal Nehru since the days of a farmer agitation in the early 1920s. Rae Bareli — then a combination of Pratapgarh(West) and Rae Bareli(East) – was picked as the seat for Feroze Gandhi, Indira Gandhi's husband and the prime minister's son-in-law. He won that election, and then again in 1957. Indira Gandhi took over the seat in 1967. Today, it is a large hamlet of 1.6 million people. It still remains a bastion of the Gandhi family and is currently represented by the Leader of the Opposition in the Lok Sabha, Rahul Gandhi. 'There was a house of one Raghvendra Shukla from Bachrawan, which was vacant, that was made as the office of Indira ji. All the publicity material was kept there. That place was called the central office and Kapur used to stay at that place whenever he was here,' said Chaudhary. Here, older people still talk about the iconic (and later infamous) photo of Indira Gandhi campaigning on a jeep with Kapur. Chaudhary said the jeeps were washed and cleaned and sent back to Delhi after the elections. 'The jeep in which Indira ji campaigned along with Kapur was taken by the Congress. Hundreds of cars used to come to Rae Bareli from Delhi,' he said. When the Morarji Desai government swept to power in 1977, Kapur was arrested by the Central Bureau of Investigation. Kapur, along with other Gandhi aides such as RK Dhawan and PC Sethi, were arrested on charges that the Congress received unaccounted-for funds from private companies. CBI also alleged that the suspects siphoned off ₹6 crore from the Congress. He was also made the chairman of the National Herald newspaper in 1977, and continued till 1985-86. In 1983, Kapur also managed to get his cousin RK Dhawan into the still fledgling Rajiv Gandhi's team. 'Dhawan was the son of my father's aunt, and he was trained by my father to handle the affairs of the PMO,' said his son, Ashok Kapur. After Indira Gandhi's assassination in 1984, Kapur's hold in the Congress appeared to loosen. 'The bond started to weaken when Rajeev Gandhi took over the reins. Though Kapur kept visiting Rae Bareli till the early 90s, he never had a public connection,' said Pandey. Ashok Kapur confirmed this. 'Rajiv Gandhi's team members created such circumstances that my father's entry was banned in the PMO. His team ensured that my father couldn't meet Rajiv ji even after he gave an appointment to meet my father,' he said. In 1991, Kapur fought the parliamentary election from Rae Bareli as a candidate of the Jharkhand Party, finishing fourth. Two years later, he died. His son Ashok sporadically returned to Rae Bareli, even working once to help Samajwadi Party candidates. His two elder brothers have died, one sister is in Delhi and another in South Africa. 'I am still a voter of Raebareli, I still have an address there,' he said, stressing on the family's deep ties to the area. But in Raebareli, the ties appear to have frayed. The local Congress unit chief, Pankaj Tiwari, admits that hardly anyone remembers Kapur. At the local tea shop, local resident Om Nath Singh said people take pride in the Gandhi name, but not even the older generation remembers Kapur. And for 25-year-old Akhil Srivastava, the name doesn't even ring a bell. 'He may have been a famous person back then but today no one knows him,' he said.
