Yogendra Deva

Continuing the journey into the mysterious Earth For children and curious minds of all ages Yogendra Deva   The rain had just stopped. Outside the window, the garden looked freshly washed. A few ants were back at work near a crack in the pavement, and somewhere a bird shook water off its feathers. Mihir was silent for longer than usual. Aaba noticed. "Something is brewing in that head," he said, smiling. Mihir looked up. "Aaba... you always talk about rocks and plates and volcanoes. But where does life come in? I’m sure life came after the rocks." Aaba leaned back in his chair. "Yes, it did," he said softly. "And that is one of Earth's most beautiful stories." ​ Aaba began, "Earth was once a fierce young planet. Volcanoes roared. Lava flowed. Lightning cracked across thick clouds. The air had no oxygen. Oceans were forming, but the rain was hot and heavy." "That sounds scary," Mihir said. ...

Opening Story in the Series: "Juhi's Magical Map" Connecting overseas children with their roots in India Yogendra Deva It all began on a rainy Saturday morning in Boston, USA. Juhi was sprawled on the living room carpet, flipping through a dusty old atlas her Dadu had brought from India. Tucked between two brittle pages was a folded slip of parchment — not quite paper, not quite cloth — with a golden edge that shimmered when the light hit it just right. Written in the corner, in curly ink: “Unfold only when your heart seeks a story.” Juhi blinked. “Well, I am kind of bored,” she whispered. She unfolded it. At once, a warm wind whooshed through the room, flipping couch cushions and tossing open hair. The map swirled up like a magic carpet, glowing brighter and brighter until everything turned— Red. When Juhi opened her eyes, she was standing in a city of red sandstone — long arched corridors, intricate jalis (latticed windows), and palaces that seemed to rise f...

  Continuing the journey into the mysterious Earth For children and curious minds of all ages Yogendra Deva Mihir was enjoying the rain from the window, watching droplets race each other down the glass. The air smelled fresh, and the world outside looked newly washed. He suddenly turned around and blurted, “Aaba, after  The Restless Earth  and  The Earth Breathes Fire —tell me the truth. Is water a hero or a villain? It floods, it drowns, it breaks roads… and yet everyone keeps saying, ‘Save water!’” Aaba smiled. He tapped the table gently. “Exactly. That’s why it deserves today’s title.” “Water is the Game Changer.” “Okay, Aaba, I’ll go with that,” Mihir said. “But where did all this water come from? It didn’t just fall from the sky one fine day, did it?” Aaba smiled. “Not one fine day, Mihir. Many, many rough ones.” “When the Earth was young and extremely hot,” he continued, “volcanoes were everywhere—and along with lava, they kept releasing huge...

  Continuing the journey into the mysterious Earth For children and curious minds of all ages Yogendra Deva   “Aaba,” Mihir said, “why do people suddenly burst out like that?” The soft clicking from Aaba’s laptop stopped mid-move. Bridge could wait. “Why?” Aaba asked gently. “What happened?” “On the bus today… that boy who never talks much—he just burst,” Mihir explained. “I didn’t see exactly what happened, but maybe someone bullied him.” Aaba nodded slowly. “Long quiet,” he said thoughtfully. “Then release.” He looked at Mihir. “If the Earth did that, where would it happen?” Mihir grinned. “You never miss a chance to turn a conversation into geology. Do you?” He paused. “Anyways, let me guess. Earthquakes?” Then, quickly, “Volcanoes?” Aaba smiled. “Yes. And volcanoes,” he said, “are where the Earth lets its fire speak.” He leaned back slightly and added, “But that fire doesn’t appear on its own. It’s tied to how the Earth itself moves.” “You mean the ...

  The opening story exploring the mysterious Earth For children and curious minds of all ages Yogendra Deva   “Aaba,” Mihir said suddenly, “is that all the Earth does?” Aaba looked up. “All of what?” “Spinning on its axis and going around the Sun,” Mihir said. “We’ve been told that so many times that it almost feels boring.” He paused. “But my teacher mentioned something else once. Plates. Moving plates.” Aaba smiled slowly. “Ah,” he said. “Now you’re asking the question the Earth has been quietly waiting for.” Then, as if remembering he was supposed to be serious, Mihir returned to his question. “Okay, Aaba. If the ground is moving, how come it feels still?” Aaba leaned back and folded the newspaper halfway. “Imagine you’re inside a train moving smoothly on a straight track,” he said. “If you toss a ball straight up, it comes right back into your hand. Even though the train is racing forward.” He watched Mihir’s face. “Why?” “Because everything inside move...