The Last Lesson Summary

Franz started for school very late that morning. He was afraid of being scolded
because M. Hamel was to question them on participles, and he did not know the first
word about them. He thought of running away and spending the day out of doors.
The warm bright day, the chirping birds, and the Prussian soldiers drilling in the open
field back of the sawmill were tempting. But he resisted the temptation and hurried
off to school.

There was a crowd in front of the bulletin-board near the town-hall. Wachter, the
blacksmith asked Franz not to go so fast. He assured the boy that he would get to
his school in plenty of time. Usually there was a great bustle when the school began
but that day everything was as quiet as Sunday morning.

Through the window Franz saw his classmates, already in their places and M. Hamel
walking up and down with his terrible iron ruler under his arm. Franz opened the door
and went in. He blushed and was frightened. M. Hamel very kindly asked him to go to
his place.

Franz noticed that their teacher had put on his beautiful green coat, his frilled shirt,
and the little black silk cap, all embroidered. He wore these only on inspection and
prize days. The village people were sitting quietly on the usually empty back
benches. Everybody looked sad; and Hauser had brought an old primer.

M. Hamel said that it was the last lesson he would give them. Henceforth, only
German was to be taught in the schools of Alsace and Lorraine. The new master
would come the next day. This was their last lesson of French. He wanted them to be
very attentive.

Franz felt sorry that he had not learnt his lessons properly. The idea that M. Hamel
was going away made the narrator forget all about his ruler and how cranky he was.
Now Franz understood why M. Hamel had put on his fine Sunday clothes and why
the old men of the village were sitting there. They had come to thank the master for
his forty years’ faithful service and to show their respect for the country that was
theirs no more.

M. Hamel asked Franz to recite, but he stood there silent. The teacher did not scold
him. He confessed that his parents and he (the teacher) were at fault. Then he talked
of the French language-the most beautiful language in the world—the clearest, the
most logical. He asked them to guard it among them and never forget it. Their
language was the key to their prison.

Then they had lesson in grammar and writing. The pigeons cooed very low on the
roof. Franz thought if they would make even the pigeons sing in German. All the
while M. Hamel was sitting motionless in his chair and gazing at one thing or the
other. His sister was packing their trunks in the room above as they had to leave the
country next day.

After writing, they had a lesson in history, and then the babies chanted their ba, be, bi,
bo, bu. Even old Hauser was crying. All at once the church-clock struck twelve and
then the midday prayers. At the same moment the trumpets of the Prussians,
returning from drill, sounded under the windows. M. Hamel stood up. He wanted to
speak but something choked him.

Then he took a piece of chalk and wrote on the blackboard as large as he could “Vive
La France!” After this he stopped and leaned his head against the wall. Without a
word, he made a gesture with his hand to indicate that the school was dismissed
and they might go.
Lost Spring Summary
A) “Sometimes I find a rupee in the garbage’ The author comes across Saheb every
morning. Saheb left his home in Dhaka long time ago. He is trying to sponge gold in
the heaps of garbage in the neighbourhood. The author asks Saheb why he does
that. Saheb mutters that he has nothing else to do. There is no school in his
neighbourhood. He is poor and works barefooted.

There are 10,000 other shoeless rag-pickers like Saheb. They live in Seema Puri, on
the outer edge of Delhi, in structures of mud, with roofs of tin and tarpaulin but
devoid of sewage, drainage or running water. They are squatters who came from
Bangladesh back in 1971. They have lived here for more than thirty years without
identity cards or permit. They have right to vote. With ration cards they get grains.
Food is more important for survival than identity. Wherever they find food, they pitch
their tents that become transit homes. Children grow up in them, and become
partners in survival. In Seemapuri survival means rag-picking. Through the years rag-
picking has acquired the proportions of a fine art. Garbage to them is gold. It is their
daily bread and a roof over their heads.

Sometimes Saheb finds a rupee or even a ten-rupee note in the garbage-heap. Then
there is hope of finding more. Garbage has a meaning different from what it means
to their parents. For children it is wrapped in wonder, for the elders it is a means of
survival.

One winter morning the author finds Saheb standing by the fenced gate of a
neighbourhood club. He is watching two young men playing tennis. They are dressed
in white. Saheb likes the game but he is content to watch it standing behind the
fence. Saheb is wearing discarded tennis shoes that look strange over his
discoloured shirt and shorts. For one who has walked barefoot, even shoes with a
hole is a dream come true. But tennis is out of his reach.

This morning Saheb is on his way to the milk booth. In his hand is a steel canister.
He works in a tea stall. He is paid 800 rupees and all his meals. Saheb is no longer
his master. His face has lost the carefree look. He doesn’t seem happy working at
the tea-stall.

2) I Want to Drive a Car The author comes across Mukesh in Firozabad. His family is
engaged in bangle making, but Mukesh insists on being his own master. “I will be a
motor mechanic,” he announces. “I will learn to drive a car,” he says.

Firozabad is famous for its bangles. Every other family in Firozabad is engaged in
making bangles. Families have spent generations working around furnaces, welding
glass, making bangles for women. None of them know that it is illegal for children
like Mukesh to work in the glass furnaces with high temperatures, in dingy cells
without air and light. They slog their daylight hours, often losing the brightness of
their eyes. If the law is enforced, it could get Mukesh and 20,000 children out of the
hot furnaces.

They walk down stinking lanes choked with garbage, past homes that remain hovels
with crumbling walls, wobbly doors and no windows. Humans and animals, co-exist
there. They enter a half-built shack. One part of it is thatched with dead grass. A frail
young woman is cooking evening meal over a firewood stove. She is the wife of
Mukesh’s elder brother and already in charge of three men-her husband, Mukesh and
their father. The father is a poor bangle maker. Despite long years of hard labour,
first as a tailor and then as a bangle maker, he has failed to renovate a house and
send his two sons to school. All he has managed to do is teach them what he knows:
the art of making bangles.

Mukesh’s grandmother has watched her own husband go blind with the dust from
polishing the glass of bangles. She says that it is his destiny. She implies that god-
given lineage can never be broken. They have been born in the caste of bangle
makers and have seen nothing but bangles of various colours. Boys and girls sit with
fathers and mothers welding pieces of coloured glass into circles of bangles. They
work in dark hutments, next to lines of flames of flickering oil lamps. Their eyes are
more adjusted to the dark than to the light outside. They often end up losing their
eyesight before they become adults.

Savita, a young girl in a drab pink dress, sits alongside an elderly woman. She is
soldering pieces of glass. Her hands move mechanically like the tongs of a machine.
Perhaps she does not know the sanctity of the bangles she helps make. The old
woman beside her has not enjoyed even one full meal in her entire life time. Her
husband is an old man with flowing beard. He knows nothing except bangles. He has
made a house for the family to live in. He has a roof over his head.

Little has moved with time in Firozabad. Families do not have enough to eat. They do
not have money to do anything except carry on the business of making bangles. The
young men echo the lament of their elders. They have fallen into the vicious circle of
middlemen who trapped their fathers and forefathers. Years of mind-numbing toil
have killed all initiative and the ability to dream. They are unwilling to get organised
into a cooperative. They fear that they will be hauled up by the police, beaten and
dragged to jail for doing something illegal. There is no leader among them. No one
helps them to see things differently. All of them appear tired. They talk of poverty,
apathy, greed and injustice.

Two distinct worlds are visible one, families caught in poverty and burdened with the
stigma of caste in which they are born; the other, a vicious circle of money-lenders,
the middlemen, the policemen, the keepers of law and politicians. Together they
have imposed the baggage on the child that he cannot put it down. He accepts it as
naturally as his father. To do anything else would mean to dare. And daring is not
part of his growing up. The author is cheered when she senses a flash of it in
Mukesh who wants to be a motor mechanic.
Deep Water Summary
William 0. Douglas recalls a misadventure of childhood. It had happened when he
was ten or eleven years old. He had decided to learn to swim. There was a pool at
the Y.M.C.A. in Yakima, which was safe. It was only two or three feet deep at the
shallow end and nine feet deep at the other. The drop was gradual. He got a pair of
water wings and went to the pool. He hated to walk naked into water and show his
very thin legs.

The author had developed an aversion to the water when he was three or four. His
father had taken him to the beach in California. They stood together on the surf. The
waves knocked him down and swept over him. He was buried under water. His
breath was gone. He was frightened. His father laughed, but the overpowering force
of the waves filled terror in the young author’s heart.

Unpleasant memories were revived when he went to the Y.M.C.A. pool for the first
time. Childish fears were stirred. But soon he gathered confidence. He watched
other boys paddling on water with their water wings. He tried to learn by imitating
them. He did this two or three times on different days. He was just beginning to feel
comfortable in the water when the misadventure happened.

When he went to the pool, there was no one else. So he sat on the side of the pool to
wait for others. Shortly afterwards a big boy, a boxer, came. He was probably
eighteen years old and had beautiful muscles on his legs and arms. He called the
author ‘Skinny and asked how he would like to be plunged in water.

The boxer boy picked Douglas and threw him into the deep end. He struck water in a
sitting position. He swallowed water and at once went to the bottom. He was
frightened, but did not lose his wits. He made a plan. He would make a big jump
when his feet hit the bottom. He would come to the surface like a cork, lie flat on it
and then paddle to the edge of the pool.

Those nine feet appeared more than ninety. Before he touched bottom his lungs
were ready to burst. When his feet hit the bottom, he made a great jump upwards,
but he failed to reach the surface at once. He came up slowly. His eyes and nose
came out of water, but not his mouth. He moved around his legs on the surface of
water. He swallowed water and choked. He tried to bring his legs up, but they hung
as dead weights. He again went down to the bottom of the pool.

He was shrieking under water because terror had seized him. He was paralysed
under water, but his heart and the pounding in head told him that he was still alive.
When he hit the bottom, he jumped with his full might. The jump made no difference.
The water was still around him. His arms and legs wouldn’t move. He trembled with
fear. He tried to call for help, to call mother, but nothing happened. Then he rose up.
His eyes and nose were almost out of water. He sucked for air and got water. He
started going down a third time.

Then all efforts ended and he relaxed. A blackness swept over his brain and wiped
out terror. There was no more panic. He felt drowsy and wanted to sleep. He gave up
all attempts. He forgot everything. When he came to his senses, he found himself
lying on his stomach beside the pool vomiting. The boy who had thrown him in said,
“I was only fooling.” Someone said that the kid had nearly died. Then they took him
to the locker room.

He walked home after several hours. He was weak and trembling. He shook and
cried when he lay on his bed. He couldn’t eat that night. For days a haunting fear was
in his heart. He never went back to the pool. He feared water and avoided it
whenever he could.

A few years later, he came to know the waters of the Cascades. He wanted to get
into them. Whenever he did so, the terror that had seized him in the pool, returned.
His legs would become paralysed. An icy horror would grab his heart. This handicap
remained with him even as time passed. Wherever he went, the haunting fear of
water followed him. It ruined his fishing trips. It deprived him of the joy of canoeing,
boating, and swimming.

He used every method he knew to overcome his fear. Finally, he decided to get an
instructor and learn to swim. He went to a pool and practised five days a week, an
hour each day. The instructor put a belt around him. A rope attached to the belt went
through a pulley on an overhead cable. He held on to the end of the rope. They went
on this way for many weeks. On each trip across the pool a bit of panic seized him.
Each time the instructor relaxed his hold on the rope and the author went under
water, some of the old terror returned and his legs froze.

It was three months before the tension began to slack. Then the instructor taught
him to put his face under water and exhale, and to raise his nose and inhale. He
repeated the exercise hundreds of time. Very slowly, he shed some of the old panic
as his head went under water.

Then the instructor held him at the side of the pool and had him kick with his legs.
He did so for weeks. Gradually his legs relaxed. Thus, piece by piece, he built a
swimmer. When he had perfected each piece, he put them together into an
integrated whole. He had started practising in October and in April the trainer told
him that he could swim. He asked the author to dive off and swim the length of the
pool. He began with crawl stroke.

When he swam alone in the pool tiny remnants of the old terror would return. But
now he could rebuke his terror. This went on till July. He was still not satisfied. So he
went to Lake Wentworth in New Hampshire. There he dived off a dock at Triggs
Island. He swam two miles across the lake to Stamp Act Island. He swam the crawl,
breast stroke, side stroke and back stroke. The terror returned only once. When he
was in the middle of the lake, he put his face under and saw nothing but bottomless
water. He asked terror what it could do to him and it fled away.

Some doubts still remained. So he went up the Tieton to Conrad Meadows, up the
Conrad Trail to Meade Glacier. He camped in the high meadow by the side of Warm
Lake. Next morning, he dived into the lake and swam across to the other shore and
back. He shouted with joy, and Gilbert Peak returned the echo. He had conquered his
fear of water.

The experience had a deeper meaning for him. Only those who have known stark
terror and conquered it can appreciate it. In death there is peace. There is terror only
in the fear of death. Roosevelt knew it. He said, “All we have to fear is fear itself.”
Douglas had experienced both the sensation of dying and the terror that fear of it
can produce. The will to live somehow grew in intensity.

At last Douglas felt liberated. He was free to walk the trails and climb the peaks and
to ignore (dismiss) fear.
The Rattrap Summary
Once there was a man who went around selling small rattraps of wire. He made
them himself but his business was not profitable. So, he had to beg and steal a bit to
keep himself alive. His clothes were in rags, his cheeks were sunken and hunger
could be noticed in his eyes. His life was sad and monotonous. He had no company.

One day, he was struck by an idea that the whole world was nothing but a big rattrap.
It set baits for people by offering riches and joys, shelter and food, heat and clothing
exactly as the rattrap offered cheese and pork. As soon as anyone let himself be
tempted to touch the bait, the rattrap closed in on him, and then everything came to
an end.

One dark evening he was walking slowly with heavy steps when he saw a little gray
cottage by the roadside. He knocked at the door to ask shelter for the night. The
owner was an old man. He had no wife or child. He was happy to get someone to
talk to in his loneliness. He served him porridge for supper and gave him tobacco for
his pipe. Then he got out an old pack of cards and played “mjölis” with his guest till
bed time.

The host had been a crofter at Ramsjö Ironworks in his days of prosperity. He had
worked on the land. Now he was unable to do day labour. It was his cow that
supported him. This extraordinary cow could give milk for the creamery everyday. He
informed the stranger that last month he had received all of thirty kronor in payment.
The crofter showed his guest three wrinkled tenkronor bills, which he had taken out
of a leather pouch hanging on a nail in the window frame.

The next day both men got up early. The crofter was in a hurry to milk his cow. The
other man did not want to stay in bed when his host had got up. They left the cottage
at the same time. The crofter locked the door and put the key in his pocket. The man
with the rattraps said goodbye and thanked his host and went away. Half an hour
later the rattrap peddler returned. He broke a window pane, stuck in his hand, and got
hold of the pouch with the thirty kronor. He took out the money and thrust it into his
pocket. Then he hung the leather pouch very carefully back in its place and went
away.

He felt pleased with his smartness. Then he realised that he dared not continue on
the public highway. So, he took to the woods. He got into a big and confusing forest.
He kept on walking without coming to the end of the forest. He realised that he had
only been walking around in the same part of the forest. He thought that he had let
himself be fooled by a bait and had been caught. The whole forest seemed to him
like an impenetrable prison from which he could never escape.

It was late in December. Darkness increased the danger as also his gloom and
despair. He sank down on the ground as he was quite tired. He heard the sound of
hammer strokes. He summoned all his strength, got up and staggered in the
direction of the sound. He reached a forge where the master smith and his helper sat
near the furnace waiting for the pig iron to be ready to put on the anvil. There were
many sounds—big bellows groaned, burning coal cracked, the fire boy shovelled
charcoal with a great deal of clatter, the waterfall roared, a sharp north wind whipped
the rain against the brick-tiled roof. On account of all these noises the blacksmith did
not notice that a man had opened the gate and entered the forge until the stranger
stood close up to the furnace.

The blacksmiths glanced only casually and indifferently at the intruder with a long
beard, dirty, ragged and with a bunch of rattraps dangling on his chest. The peddler
asked for permission to stay. The master blacksmith nodded a haughty consent
without saying a word. Just then the ironmaster who owned the Ramsjo iron mill
came into the forge on one of his nightly rounds of inspection.

The ironmaster saw that a person in dirty torn clothes had moved so close to the
furnace that steam was rising from his wet rags. He walked close up to him, looked
him over very carefully. Then he tore off his hat, which had a wide flexible brim, to
get a better view of his face. He called him ‘Nils Olof and wondered how he looked.

The man with the rattraps had never before seen the ironmaster at Ramsjo and did
not even know what his name was. He thought that the ironmaster might perhaps
throw his old acquaintance a couple to kronor. So, he did not tell him that he was
mistaken. The ironmaster observed that he should not have resigned from the
regiment. Then he asked the stranger to come home with him. The tramp did not
agree. He thought of the thirty kronor. Going up to the manor house would be like
throwing himself into the lion’s den.

The ironmaster assumed that he felt embarrassed because of his miserable

clothing. He said that his wife, Elizabeth was dead, his boys were abroad and only his
oldest daughter was with him. He invited the stranger to spend Christmas with them.
The stranger said “no” thrice. The ironmaster told Stjernstrom, the blacksmith that
Captain von Stahle preferred to stay with him that night. He laughed to himself and
went away.

Half an hour later, the sound of carriage wheels was heard outside the forge. The
ironmaster’s daughter came there, followed by a valet, carrying a big fur coat. She
introduced herself as Edla Willmansson. She noticed that the man was afraid. She
thought that either he had stolen something or else he had escaped from jail. She,
however assured him that he would be allowed to leave them just as freely as he had
come. She addressed him as captain and requested him to stay with them over
Christmas Eve. She said this in such a friendly manner that the rattrap peddler
agreed to go with her. The fur coat was thrown over his rags and he followed the
young lady to the carriage. On the way the peddler thought why he had taken that
fellow’s money. He was sitting in the trap and would never get out of it.
The next day was Christmas Eve. The ironmaster came into the dining room for
breakfast. He thought of his old regimental comrade whom he had met so
unexpectedly. He felt satisfied and talked of feeding him well and giving him some
honourable job. His daughter remarked that last night she did not notice anything
about him to show that he had once been an educated man. The ironmaster asked
her to have patience and let him get clean and dressed up. Then she would see
something different. The tramp manners would fall away from him with the tramp
clothes.

Just then the stranger entered in a good-looking suit of clothes, a white shirt with a
starched collar and whole shoes. Although he was well groomed, the ironmaster did
not seem pleased. He realised that he had made a mistake last night. Now in broad
daylight, it was impossible to mistake him for an old acquaintance. The stranger
made no attempt to dissemble. He explained that it was not his fault. He had never
pretended to be anything but a poor trader. He had requested the Ironmaster to let
him stay in the forge. He was ready to put on his rags and go away.

The ironmaster thought that it was not honest on the part of the man and wanted to
call the sheriff. The tramp then told the ironmaster that the whole world was nothing
but a big rattrap. All the good things that were offered to him were nothing but
cheese rinds and bits of pork, set out to drag a poor fellow into trouble. The sheriff
may lock him up for this. He warned the Ironmaster that a day might come when he
might want to get a big piece of pork, and then he would get caught in the trap.

The ironmaster began to laugh. He dropped the idea of informing the sheriff.
However, he asked the tramp to leave and opened the door. Just then his daughter
entered and asked her. father what he was doing. That morning she was quite happy.
She wanted to make things for the wretch quite homelike. So, she spoke in favour of
the vagabond. She wanted him to enjoy a day of peace with them—just one in the
whole year. She knew that there was a mistake but they should not chase away a
human being whom they had asked to come there and promised Christmas cheer.
The ironmaster hoped that she wouldn’t have to regret that.

The young girl led the stranger upto table and asked him to sit and eat. The man did
not say a word but helped himself to the food. He looked at the girl and wondered
why she had intervened for him. Christmas Eve passed at Ramsjo just as it always
had. The stranger did not cause any trouble because he did nothing but sleep. They
woke him up that he could have his meals. In the evening, the Christmas tree was
lighted. Two hours later he was around once again to eat the Christmas fish and
porridge. After getting up from the table he went around and said thank you’ and
good night’ to everyone present. The girl told him that the suit he wore was to be a
Christmas present and he did not have to return it. If he wanted to spend the next
Christmas Eve in peace, he would be welcomed back again. The man with the
rattraps did not answer. He only stared at the young girl in limitless amazement.
The next morning the ironmaster and his daughter got up early and went to
Christmas service. They drove back at about ten o’clock. The young girl sat, and
hung her head even more dejectedly than usual. At church she had learnt that an old
crofter of the iron works had been robbed by a man who went around selling
rattraps. The ironmaster feared that the man might have stolen many silver spoons
from the cupboard. As the wagon stopped at the front steps, the ironmaster asked
the valet about the stranger. The valet told him that the stranger had left. He had not
taken anything with him at all, but he had left a package for Miss Willmansson as a
Christmas present.

On opening the package, she gave a little cry of joy. She found a small rattrap, and in
it lay three wrinkled ten kronor notes. There was also a letter addressed to her. He
did not want her to be embarrassed by a thief but act as a captain. He requested her
to return the money to the old man on the roadside, who had money pouch hanging
on the window frame as a bait for the poor wanderers. The rattrap was a Christmas
present from a rat who would have been caught in this world’s rattrap if he had not
been raised to captain, because in that way he got power to clear himself.
Indigo Summary
In December 1916 Gandhi went to Lucknow to attend the annual convention of the
Indian National Congress. There were 2,301 delegates and many visitors. A peasant
from Champaran, Rajkumar Shukla, asked Gandhi to visit his district. Shukla followed
Gandhi, wherever he went. In 1917, Gandhi and Shukla boarded a train for Patna.
Shukla led Gandhi to the house of a lawyer named Rajendra Prasad. They could not
see him as he was out of town.

Gandhi decided to go first to Muzaffarpur to obtain complete information about the

conditions in Champaran. He reached Muzaffarpur by train at midnight on 15 April
1917. Professor J.B. Kriplani, received him at the station. Gandhi stayed there for
two days. The news of Gandhi’s arrival and the nature of his mission spread quickly
through Muzaffarpur and to Champaran. Sharecroppers from Champaran began
arriving there. Muzaffarpur lawyers briefed Gandhi about the court cases. He chided
the lawyers for collecting big fees from the sharecroppers. He thought that
lawcourts were useless for the crushed and fear-stricken peasants. The real relief for
them was to be free from fear.

Then Gandhi arrived in Champaran. He began by trying to get the facts from the
secretary of the British landlords’ association. He refused to give information to an
outsider. Gandhi said that he was not an outsider. Next, Gandhi called on the British
official commissioner of the Tirhut division. The commissioner started bullying
Gandhi and advised him to leave Tirhut. Instead of leaving the area, Gandhi went to
Motihari, the Capital of Champaran. Several lawyers accompanied him. A large
crowd of people greeted Gandhi at the railway station. It was the beginning of their
liberation from fear of the British.

A peasant had been maltreated in a nearby village. The next morning Gandhi started
out on the back of an elephant. Soon he was stopped by the police superintendent’s
messenger and ordered to return to town in his carriage. Gandhi complied. The
messenger drove Gandhi home. Then he served him with an official notice to quit
Champaran at once. Gandhi signed the receipt for the notice and wrote on it that he
would disobey the order. Gandhi received a summons to appear in court the next
day. At night Gandhi telegraphed Rajendra Prasad, sent instructions to the ashram
and wired a full report to the Viceroy.

Thousands of peasants gathered around the court house. The officials felt
powerless. The authorities wished to consult their superiors. Gandhi protested
against the delay. The magistrate announced that he would pronounce sentence
after a two-hour recess. He asked Gandhi to furnish bail for those 120 minutes.
Gandhi refused. The judge released him without bail. The court started again after a
break. The judge said he would not deliver the judgement for several days. He
allowed Gandhi to remain at liberty.
Gandhi asked the prominent lawyers about the injustice to the sharecroppers. They
consulted among themselves. Then they told Gandhi that they were ready to follow
him into jail. Gandhi then divided the group into pairs and fixed the order in which
each pair was to court arrest. After several days, Gandhi was informed by the
magistrate that the case had been dropped. For the first time in modern India, civil
disobedience had triumphed.

Gandhi and lawyers conducted an inquiry into the complaints of the peasants. About
ten thousand peasants deposed. Documents were collected. Gandhi was summoned
by Sir Edward Gait, the Lieutenant-Governor. He met the Lieutenant Governor four
times. An official commission of inquiry was appointed.

Gandhi remained in Champaran initially for seven months and then came for several
shorter visits. The official inquiry assembled evidence against the big planters. They
agreed in principle to make refunds to the peasants. Gandhi asked only 50 per cent.
The representative of the planters offered to refund up to 25 per cent. Gandhi
agreed. The deadlock was broken.

Gandhi explained that the amount of the refund was less important than the fact that
the landlords had been forced to give some money and their prestige. The peasant
now saw that he had rights and defenders. He learned courage. Events justified
Gandhi’s position. Within a few years the British planters abandoned their estates.
These now went back to the peasants. Indigo sharecropping disappeared.

Gandhi wanted to do something to remove the cultural and social backwardness in

Champaran villages. He appealed for teachers. Two young disciples of Gandhi,
Mahadev Desai and Narhari Parikh, and their wives volunteered for work. Several
more came from Bombay, Poona and other distant parts of the land. Devdas,
Gandhi’s youngest son, arrived from the ashram and so did Mrs. Gandhi. Primary
schools were opened in six villages. Kasturba taught the ashram rules on personal
cleanliness and community sanitation.

Health conditions were miserable. Gandhi got a doctor to volunteer his services for
six months. Three medicines were available : castor oil, quinine and sulphur
ointment. Gandhi noticed the filthy state of women’s clothes. One woman told
Kasturba that she had only one sari. During his long stay in Champaran, Gandhi kept
a long distance watch on the ashram and sent regular instructions by mail.

The Champaran episode was a turning point in Gandhi’s life. It did not begin as an
act of defiance. It grew out of an attempt to lessen the sufferings of the poor
peasants. Gandhi’s politics was closely connected with the practical day to day
problems of the millions. He tried to mould a new free Indian who could stand on his
own feet and thus make India free.
Gandhi also taught his followers a lesson in self-reliance. Gandhi’s lawyer friends
thought that it would be a good idea for Charles Freer Andrews, the English pacifist,
to stay in Champaran and help them. Andrews was willing if Gandhi agreed. But
Gandhi opposed it forcefully. He said, “The cause is just and you must rely upon
yourselves to win the battle.”
Thus, self-reliance, Indian independence and help to sharecroppers were all bound
together.
Poets and Pancakes
Poets and Pancakes Introduction to the Chapter

Set up in 1940, for almost thirty years, Gemini Studios of Madras (Chennai) was one of India’s pioneering and
influential film-producing organisations of India. Founded by the brilliant and talented S.S. Vasan, it had a staff of
over 600 people and made movies for Tamil Nadu and other southern Indian states. Pancake was the make-up
material used by Gemini Studios. Sahitya Akademi award winning Tamil writer Asokamitran worked for the
Gemini Studios from 1952 to 1966. He later recorded his reminiscences in the book, ‘My Years with Boss’.

Poets and Pancakes Theme

This chapter has been taken from “My Years with Boss’ written by Asokamitran. Through this write up,
Asokamitran brings up a lot of topics pertaining to film industry in particular and India in general, and provides
the reader a glimpse of independent India in its infancy. Asokamitran also tells about the manner in which the
legal advisor ruins the career of a talented actress unwittingly.

Communism also finds a place in the musings of Asokamitran. At that time of India, the educated folk took pride
in showing their support for communism and Gemini studios was no exception. He also mentions the anti-
communism movement run by the West.

Poets and Pancakes Summary in English

The essay, “Poets and Pancakes” is an extract from Asokamitran’s book “My Years with Boss.” The Boss was
S.S. Vasan, who founded the Gemini Studios which produced a number of films that influenced every aspect of
Indian life.

Asokamitran talks about his days at Gemini Studios. He is known for his humour and gende satire. He explains
us about a make-up material. The brand name of this material was Pancake. This material was bought and used
up in the studios. He gives name of few actresses who used that material. He suggests that the make-up
department was located in a building which was believed to have been Robert Clive’s stable. However, there were
several buildings associated with Robert Clive’s residence but this was not true as Clive’s stay in India was very
shortlived.

Further, he gives a description of the make-up department as a symbol of national integration and the make-up
room as a hair-cutting salon. Pancake and many other lotions made actors ugly as it was necessary to make
them presentable in a movie. In the make-up department, there was a forty-year-old office boy with dream of
becoming a star-actor or director or lyrics writer. His dreams remained unfulfilled, making him frustrated. For
this, he blamed Subbu, who was No. 2 and a favourite of the boss.

The writer tells about poets who used to wear khadi and believed that Communists were monster^. He even tells
about legal adviser who had been the member of the story department. He was at odds in the department and
lost his job with the closure of story department. The legal adviser had even once brought an abrupt end to the
promising career of a talented actress.

The Gemini Studios even hosted a two-hundred strong Moral Rearmament Army (MRA) which showed two plays
in the most professional manner. The plays became a good success and left their impression on Tamil drama.
Later, the writer however, learnt that MRA was actually a counter-Communist movement.

The writer even tells us about Subbu, a man of many abilities and kind-hearted person. However, the office boys
felt jealous of him, and cursed him.
The writer humorously tells of an English poet’s visit to the studios. Though royal preparations were done but the
purpose of his arrival was a mystery for long time to come. At the studios, they had never heard the poet’s name
before. Further, they did not understand what he spoke. The poet also perhaps felt baffled.

Asokamitran’s duty at the studios was to cut newspaper clippings on several issues and store them in files.
However, anyone who saw him tearing newspapers thought he had no work. Thus, everybody wanted to deliver
some work to him.

The author saw a notice in The Hindu. A short story contest had been organised by a British periodical called, The
Encounter. The writer desired to send an entry. However, he wanted to know status of the periodical. For this, he
went to British Council Library. There he found it. He learnt that the editor of the periodical was Stephen Spender,
the poet who had come to Gemini Studios.

After his retirement, he came across a book titled, The God That Failed. It had six essays about failure of
Communism. One of these essays was written by Spender. The mystery of Spender’s visit to Gemini Studios was
cleared. Perhaps it had something to do with his anti-communist perspective.

Poets and Pancakes Main Characters in the Chapter

Asokamitran

The author of the narrative and an employee of Gemini Studio, Asokamitran’s work was to cut newspaper
clippings, paste these and maintain a file of the same. The other stafflooked down on his job and believed
themselves to be superior to him.

Office Boy

The office boy was not really a boy, but a grown-up man. He was forty years old. He was in charge of the crowd
make-up. Though his job was an easy one, he considered himself to be a skilled artist. He had once aspired to be
a star actor or a top screen writer. He blamed Subbu for his failure.

Kothamangalam Subbu

Kothamangalam Subbu was the No. 2 at Gemini Studios. Though he definitely came from a less advantaged
background than the office boy, being a brahmin by birth had given him better exposure than the office boy. He
had the ability to look cheerful at all times and his undivided loyalty was to Vasan, the principal of Gemini
Studios. Extremely creative, Subbu directed all his talent to his principal’s advantage.

Though a brilliant actor, he was content playing secondary roles and usually performed better than the lead
actors. Without a doubt, Subbu gave direction and definition to Gemini Studios during its golden years. Subbu
was an extremely talented poet as well. Though capable of writing complex poetry, he deliberately chose to write
in simple Tamil verse to enlighten the masses. Generous to the core, Subbu’s house was a permanent residence
for dozens of near and distant relations, whom he fed and supported without a thought. Yet, even Subbu had
enemies.

Legal Advisor

Like Subbu, the story department of Gemini Studios also had a lawyer, officially known as legal advisor, though
better known for the opposite reasons. While every other member of the story department wore a khadi dhoti and
white khadi shirt, the legal advisor wore pants and a tie, and sometimes an oversized coat. He is described as a
man of cold logic in a crowd of dreamers. He was responsible for destroying the acting career of a highly
talented actress, by his irresponsible behaviour.
Stephen Spender

Stephen Spender, an English poet, editor and a one-time communist, came to Gemini Studios and gave a speech.
His lecture was about Communism on one side and about his struggles to establish as a poet on the other. The
content of the speech and the accent of the poet left everyone utterly bewildered. The reason for his visit
remained an unexplained mystery. Asokamitran later discovered that Stephen Spender was the editor of the
British periodical, ‘Encounter’. When he accidentally chanced upon Spender’s essay on Communism in the book,
‘The God that Failed’, Asokamitran understood the connection between the English poet, Stephen Spender and
the owner of Gemini Studios, S.S. Vasan.
The Interview
The Interview Introduction to the Chapter

‘The Interview’ is an extract from an interview of Umberto Eco. The interviewer is Mukund Padmanabhan : from
the ‘The HINDU’. Thousands of celebrities have been interviewed over the years. Our most vivid impressions
about contemporary celebrities are through interviews. But for some of them, interviews , are ‘unwarranted
intrusion in their lives’.

In the second part of the chapter, the interviewer highlights how Umberto Eco considers himself as an .
academician first and a novelist later on. He considers himself a university professor who writes novels : on
Sundays – occasionally. The possible reasons of the huge success of Eco’s novel, ‘The Name of the i Rose’ are
also highlighted in the interview.

The Interview Theme

‘The Interview’ written by Christopher Silvester briefs the new invention ‘Interview’ in the field of journalism.
Interview that was invented over 130 years has become a commonplace journalism. Today, every literate or
illiterate will have to experience interview at some points of their life. It is surprising to notice that as an
interviewer, each one is comfortable, whereas as an interviewee, they feel it much disturbing and diminishing.

The Interview Summary in English

The narration, “The Interview”, written by Christopher Silvester is a very interesting lesson speaking about the
invention of the interview about 130 years ago. We face interviews throughout our journey of life and several
thousand celebrities are the part and parcel of this process. Yh e opinions of the interview—its functions,
methods and merits—vary considerably. Some people believe that they are able to recall the truth while there are
those who have a great despise from the word ‘interview’. They believe it to be a kind of direct encounter into the
lives of the celebrities. In this context, some of the world fame writers had varied opinion. According to V.S.
Naipaul, a cosmopolitan writer, “Some people are wounded by interviews and lose a part of themselves.”

Given below is an extract from an interview of Umberto Eco. He is interviewed by Mukund Padmanabhan from
The Hindu.

Mukund : Once an English novelist, David Lodge remarked that he was unable to understand how Eco could do so
many things.

Umberto Eco : People might feel, ‘I am doing many things but in the end I have found that I am always doing the
same thing.’

Mukund : Which is that thing?

Umberto Eco : It is very difficult to explain. I have got some philosophical interests which are pursued by my
novels and academic work. There are my books for children. They are about peace and non-violence and this is
all philosophical interest. Even then there is a secret. All of us have a lot of empty spaces in our lives and I call
them interstices.

Suppose you are coming over in an elevator to my place and I am waiting for you. This is an interstice—an empty
space. I work in empty spaces. Your elevator will come up from the first to the third floor, and I am waiting for it. I
have already written an article.

Mukund : It must be your non-fictioiial writing. Your work has a certain playful and personal quality about it. This
is a departure from a regular academic style. You must have adopted an informal approach.
Umberto Eco : While presenting my first doctoral dissertation in Italy, one of the professors said “Scholars learn a
lot of certain subjects, then they make a lot of false hypotheses, correct them and give the conclusions. But you
told the story of your research.”

At the age of 22,1 understood that the scholarly books should be written the way I had done—by telling the story
of the research. So, my essays have a narrative aspect. At the age of 50, I started writing novels. I remember that
my friend Roland Barthes was always frustrated that he was an essayist and not a novelist. He wanted to do
some creative writing but he died. In my case, I started writing novels by accident. The novels satisfied my taste
for narration.

Mukund : Thus, you became famous after the publication of The Name of the Rose. You have written five novels
and many more on non-fiction. Among them a seminal piece of work on semiotics. If we ask people about
Umberto Eco, they will say that he is a novelist. Does it trouble you?

Umberto Eco : Of course, it troubles me. I consider myself a University Professor who writes novels on Sundays.
It is not a joke. I always participate in academic conferences. I do not attend the meetings of Pen Clubs and
writers. I identify myself with the academic community. By writing novels, I am in a position to reach to the large
number of people. I cannot expect to have one million readers with stuff on semiotics.

Mukund : I ask you another question. Your novel The Name of the Rose is very serious novel. At one level, it is a
detective tale, and then it goes deep into metaphysics, theology and medieval history. It is being enjoyed by a
large number of audience. Were you puzzled at all by this?

Umberto Eco : No, the journalists are puzzled. We can even see that sometimes publishers also get puzzled
because both believe that people like trash and do not like difficult reading experiences. Suppose there are six
billion people in this planet and the novel is sold to 10 and 15 millions. Thus, I am getting only a small percentage
of readers. Thus, these readers do not always want easy experiences. After dinner at 9.00 p.m., I watch television,
and see ‘Miami Vice’, or Emergency Room. I enjoy it and I need it but not all day.

Mukund : Can you tell that how your novel has got a good success even if it deals with the medieval history?

Umberto Eco : That is possible. But I can tell you another story. My American publisher told she did not expect to
sell more than 3000 copies in a country where some has seen a cathedral or studied Latin. So, I was given an
advance for 3000 copies but in the end it sold two or three million in the U.S. So many books have been written
about the medieval past but the book has a mysterious success. Nobody can predict it. If I had written it ten
years earlier or later, it would not have been the same. Why it worked is a mystery? Thus, the novel The Name of
the Rose has got a good success.

The Interview Main Characters in the Chapter

Mukund Padmanabhan

He is an interviewer from ‘The Hindu’ who interviews Umberto Eco after his huge success of the book he wrote.

Umberto Eco

He is the author of the popular novel, ‘Name of the Rose’. He is a University Professor. Writing novel is his hobby
which he does only on Sundays. He had written 40 scholarly works of non-fiction and 5 novels. He always
identified himself with the academic community, and never with writers or novelists.
Going Places
Sophie and Jansie, two school girls, were coming home from school. Sophie
declared that she was going to have a boutique. Jansie looked doubtful as
something like that took money. Sophie said that she would find it. Jansie observed
that it would take a long time to save that much. Sophie said she would be a
manager till then. Jansie pointed out that they would not make her manager straight
off. However, Sophie persisted in her fantasising. She said that she would be like
Mary Quant. She would have the most amazing shop in that city.

Jansie knew that they were both earmarked for the biscuit factory. She became
melancholy and wished Sophie wouldn’t say those things. She told Sophie to be
sensible. They didn’t pay well for shop work. Moreover, her dad would never allow it.

Sophie changed track. She said that she would become an actress. There was real
money in that field. She could also have boutique as side business as actresses did
not work full time. Alternatively, she would become a fashion designer-something a
bit sophisticated.

“If ever I come into money I’ll buy a boutique,” she said, entering the house. Little
Derek, who was hanging on to the back of his father’s chair, remarked, “She thinks
money grows on trees, don’t she, Dad?” Their mother sighed. Sophie watched her
back stooped over the sink. The small room was steamy from the stove and
cluttered with the heavy-breathing man in his vest at the table and the dirty washing
piled up in the corner. Sophie felt a tightening in her throat. She went to look for her
brother Geoff.

Geoff was three years out of school. He was an apprentice mechanic. He travelled to
his work each day to the far side of the city. He was kneeling on the floor in the next
room and tinkering with a part of his motor cycle. Geoff was almost grown up now.
She suspected areas of his life about which she knew nothing, about which he never
spoke. He seemed to be away somewhere, in those places she had never seen.
These places attained a special fascination simply because they were unknown to
her and remained out of her reach. She wished she could be admitted more deeply
into her brother’s affections and that someday he might take her with him. She knew
that Geoff thought her too young but she felt impatient.

Sophie told Geoff that she had met Danny Casey in the Arcade. Geoff did not believe
her and asked if she had told Dad. Geoff asked her how Casey looked like. She said
that he had green, gentle eyes but he was not very tall. Geoff told his father that
Sophie had met Danny Casey.

Sophie wriggled. Her father looked at her with disdain. He considered Casey too
young for the first team. Sophie then said that Danny Casey told her that he was
going to buy a shop. Her father dismissed it as another of her wild stories. He did not
believe her yarn. He warned her that she was going to talk herself into a load of
trouble someday.

In Geoff’s room Sophie looked at the large poster of United’s first team squad. It had
a row of coloured photographs beneath. Three of them were of the young Irish
prodigy, Casey. Sophie asked Geoff to promise he would not tell anyone about her
meeting Casey and asking him for autograph for Derek. Since neither of them had
any paper or a pen, he asked her to come to meet him next week. She promised to
do so. Geoff said that it was the most unlikely thing he had ever heard.

On Saturday, they went to watch United. Their team won two-nil and Casey drove in
the second goal. Sophie glowed with pride. Geoff was ecstatic.

Next week Jansie asked Sophie what she had been talking about meeting Danny
Casey. She promised to keep it a secret. Sophie said that her father would quarrel
with her if he heard about it. Sophie realised that Geoff had not told her about the
date.

After dark she walked by the canal. She sat down on a wooden bench beneath a
solitary elm to wait. For sometime, she imagined his coming. Some more time
passed. She began to think that Danny might not come. She felt sad. Others would
doubt her. Geoff would be disappointed.

She climbed the steps to the street. Outside the pub, she noticed her father’s bicycle
propped against the wall. She was glad he would not be there when she got home.
Coming through the arcade she pictured Danny Casey again outside Royce’s. She
saw his gentle, gazelle like eyes. She kept waiting in the arcade alone for a long time
remembering the soft melodious voice, the shimmer of green eyes.

Then Sophie remembered another vision. Last Saturday she had seen Casey moving
past the defenders without making a sound and kicking the ball into the goal. She
remembered the thunderous applause made by fifty thousand supporters.
My Mother at Sixty-six Summary
The poet was driving from her parent’s home to the Cochin airport last Friday
morning. Her mother was sitting beside her. She was sixty six years old. The old lady
was dozing. Her mouth remained open. Her face looked pale and faded. It was grey
like ash. It looked lifeless like a corpse (dead body).

The lifeless and faded face of her mother pained her heart. The old lady seemed to
be lost in her own thoughts. The poet turned away her attention from her mother and
looked outside. The world outside was full of life and activity. The young trees
seemed running fast. The children looked happy while moving out of their homes.

When they were at the airport, they had to undergo a security check. The poet was
standing a few yards away from her mother. She looked again at her old mother. She
felt pained to look at the colourless, lifeless and pale face of her mother. Her face
looked faded like the late winter’s moon which had lost its shine and strength. This
aroused the old familiar ache in the poet’s heart. Her childhood fear overpowered her
again. However, she controlled herself. She appeared to be normal. She scattered
smiles on her face while saying good bye to her mother. She wished to see her old
Amma again.
An Elementary School Classroom in a Slum
Summary
The children of an elementary school classroom in a slum look pathetic and
miserable. They have pale and lifeless faces. Their disorderly hair are torn around
and look like rootless weeds. They are depressed and keep their heads down. They
have stunted growth. They inherit the diseases of their parents. They do have
dreams. A sweet young boy is sitting unnoted at the back of his dim classroom. He
is dreaming of squirrel’s game in trees and of other interesting places other than his
dull and drab classroom.

The gifts given as donations and the picture of Shakespeare’s head are hung on the
unpleasant creamy walls. But these are useless to these unfortunate children. In the
early morning, the sky is cloudless. Domes of the institutions of the civilized world
shine in every city. So are they in Tyrol Valley. Music of bells and fragrance of
flowers pervade there. The map of this world is made and reshaped by the people in
power. But for these children of a school in the slum that world is meaningless. Their
own windows are dirty. Unpleasant surroundings form their world. The fog of
uncertainty dominates their future. They are doomed to live in narrow streets closed
in by the bluish grey sky. Their world is far away from rivers, capes and stars.

Shakespeare holds no interest for them. Nor the map of the world does them any
good. This map shows a world which is not theirs. This world is full of attractions.
There are beautiful ships, warmth of the sun and love. They entice these children.
They are tempted to steal them away by running away from their miserable
surroundings. They live in their narrow, crowded holes or lairs. Their life starts with
the fog of uncertainty and ends with the endless night of their death. On the heap of
the waste these small children wander with their bones peeping out of their skins.
Wearing spectacles of steel with mended glasses, they look like pieces of broken
bottles on stones. All their time and space is spent in these dirty and foggy slums.
These slums are nothing less than living hells. Actually, they are a blot on their
civilised world—the world of the rich and the great.

The map of the civilized world and the slums of these unfortunate children are two
entirely different worlds. Governors, inspectors, visitors and other important persons
must abridge this gap. They must peep into the world of the children living in the
slums. They must make their own world the world of these slum children too. The
unsuitable environment of the slums has blocked all their gates to progress. They
are lying shut like catacombs (underground graves). These obstacles should be
broken. Everything that binds them should be broken. They must be allowed to
breathe in the open. They must be allowed to come out of their narrow lanes and
dirty slums of the town. Let them enjoy the beauty of the green fields. Their world
should extend to the sky-blue waves rising over the golden sands. Let the pages of
wisdom be open for them. Let their tongues express themselves freely without any
check or fear. Only those people make or create history whose language has the
warmth and strength of the sun.
Keeping Quiet Summary
The poet wants us to keep still till he counts upto twelve. For once, let us not talk in
any language on this earth. He asks us to stop moving our arms so much for one
second.
Let there be no rush or hurry for a second. Engines and other machines must stop
for a moment. That moment will be a fascinating moment for all of us. Then all of us
shall enjoy the sudden strangeness of the moment together.

The poet wants that the fishermen would not harm the whales in the cold sea of
polar regions. Even the man gathering salt with his own hands must take care of his
hurt hands.

All kinds of wars must be stopped at once. The green wars against the environment,
wars with poisonous gases and wars with fire-arms must be stopped now. In such
wars, victory is meaningless as there are no survivors left after the war. Instead of
fighting and waging wars, people should come out in their best dresses. They must
go out for a walk with their brothers. They must move about under the shady trees
and enjoy doing nothing.

The poet does not want that we should confuse ‘stillness’ with ‘total inactivity. Doing
nothing at all would amount to death. The poet has no association with death. We
think that life is to move about. We should not be always on the move. For a while we
should also take rest. A long silence can do us a lot of good. Men become sad when
they fail to understand themselves. They feel helpless when they threaten
themselves with death. A long silence can soothe our feelings and help us in
removing this sadness.

The poet gives an example to illustrate the idea that ‘stillness’ does not mean total
inactivity’. The earth can teach us a lesson. When everything seems dead, the earth
remains alive.
The poet asks us to keep quiet till he counts twelve. Then he will go.
A Thing of Beauty Summary
A thing of beauty is a constant source of joy. Its beauty keeps on increasing. It never
fades. It will never pass into nothingness. It provides us a pleasant shelter—a quiet
bower for us. It gives us peace and a sleep full of sweet dreams. We are bound to
the beauties of the earth.

We suffer from malice and disappointment. We lack good human qualities and noble
natures. We have some sad days also. All these things make our life gloomy. We
also develop unhealthy and evil ways that cause us suffering and pain.

In spite of all these sufferings, some beautiful things remove the cover of sad
feelings from our hearts. All beautiful things of nature are a boon for humanity. The
sun, the moon, and old and young trees are sources of happiness. They provide a
shady shelter, which is a boon for simple sheep. Daffodil flowers are blooming
among the green surroundings. Small streams with transparent water make a
cooling shelter of thickets to protect themselves from the hot season. Bushes are
growing in the middle of the forest. They have been made more beautiful and grand
by a sprinkling of blooming musk roses. This magnificence and beauty surpasses
grandeur of the dooms that we have imagined for our mighty dead forefathers.

These beauties of nature are lovelier than all lovely tales that we have heard or read.
Nature is an endless fountain. It pours into our hearts an immortal drink from the
heaven’s brink.
A Roadside Stand
A Roadside Stand Introduction to the Poem

Robert Lee Frost was an American poet who lived from 1874 to 1963. His simple style of writing, I realistic
depiction of rural life and constant reference to nature made him one of the most influential : poets in American
history. His most famous poems include ‘Mending Wall’, ‘Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening’ and
‘Birches’.He received the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry four times.

A Roadside Stand Theme

The poem, ‘The Roadside Stand’ is Robert Frost’s scathing criticism of an unequal society where there is a huge
division between the rich and the poor, the haves and the have-nots, owing to the inequitous distribution of
wealth. The poem depicts, with clarity, the plight of the poor and the complex dynamics of their existence. It also
focuses on the unfortunate fact that the unequal progress and development between cities and villages have led
to the feelings of distress and unhappiness in the rural people.

A Roadside Stand Summary in English

The poem “A Roadside Stand”, composed by Robert Frost is about a farmer who puts a little new shed in front of
his house on the edge of a road. Several thousands of cars speed past it. He desires to sell wild berries, squash
and other products. He does not like charity. He tries to sell his products for money. He believes that money can
give him a better lifestyle as he saw in the movies. However, his hopes are never fulfilled. People in cars go past
without even giving a cursory look at his stall. And if few of them happen to look at it, they see how the letters N
and S had been turned wrong. They believe that such badly painted signs spoil the beauty of the countryside.

Nevertheless, a few cars did stop. One of them desired to take a U-turn. It came into the farmer’s yard and
spoiled the grass. Another car stopped to know the way. And one of them stopped as it needed petrol, though it
was quite evident that the farmer did not sell petrol.

The poor village people had little earning. They have not seen much money. They lead a life of poverty. It is
known that some good-doers plan to remove their poverty. They aimed to buy their property on the roadside to
build theatres and stores. They plan to shift the villagers into the village huddled together. They wished to teach
them the ways that could change their good and healthy habits. They even aimed to teach them to sleep during
day time. The ‘greedy good-doers’ and ‘beneficent beasts of prey’ desired to force the benefits on the poor village
people and befool them.

The poet feels quite miserable at the pitiable sufferings of the poor village folk. He even had a childish desire for
all the poor to be done away with at one stroke to end their pain. But he knew that it is childish and vain. So, he
desires that someone relieves him of his pain by killing him.
Aunt Jennifer’s Tigers Summary
Aunt Jennifer’s Tigers prance and jump across a screen. They are bright coloured
like the shining yellow topaz. These denizens’ or the dwellers of the green forests are
brought in the panel by Aunt Jennifer. She creates them through her own hands.
They don’t fear the men standing under the tree. They pace in ‘sleek’ and ‘chivalric’
certainty.

Aunt Jennifer’s hands are moving about her wool. But the movement is not smooth
and effortless. Aunt finds it quite hard to pull even the ivory needle. The heavy weight
of the marriage band that bonded her with her husband sits heavily upon her hand.
She still feels tied down by that weight.

Her terrified hands’ will tell the whole story of her unhappy life even when aunt is
dead. Hardships and sufferings were the parts of her married life. These crushed
her. She was in the grip of very tough life. But the tigers she has made in the panel
will go on jumping ahead, proud and unafraid.
The Third Level
The Third Level Introduction to the Chapter

The Grand Central Station of New York has two levels. But Charley, the thirty-one year old protagonist of the
story, a city dweller, declares that there are three and claims to have been there as well.

The Third Level Theme

The story, ‘The Third Level’ clearly explores the science fiction genre of ‘time travel’. Jack Finney, the recipient of
the World Fantasy Award, interweaves fantasy with reality in his projection of time travel. Charley, the protagonist
wishes to be transported to the third level, the world of Galesburg, Illinois, 1894, which is supposed to be a much
happier and quieter place to be in.

The story also dwells on the theme of escapism as a psychological refuge from the grim realities of the present
day world along with a desire to stay with the past—a desire that Charley’s wife Louisa does not contest. Sam
has also happily escaped, with no desire to return to his old profession.

The story exposes the vulnerable side of the common man. Surrounded by myriad problems, we humans,
sometimes experience a craving for peace and serenity, and look for possible escapes. This story is about time
intersection, an illusion, a kind of long dream that we do not experience during our sleep.

The Third Level Summary in English

“The Third Level”, written by Jack Finney blends fiction with reality. It is also about a man’s wish to escape from
the harsh realities of present life. Charley, though he does not admit it, wants to go into the past as he is
unhappy. He is unhappy with his wife. In fact, he is as unhappy as he finds the world in which he lives full of hurry,
tension and war. His psychiatrist friend, Sam tells his stamp collecting also as an escape into the past.

There were only two levels at Grand Central Station. However, Charley found a third one. It was by chance. Many
a times, he was lost there. He was always discovering new doorways, new corridors and new tunnels. He had
begun to think that the Grand Central was always pushing out tunnels and new corridors like roots of a huge tree.

There he lost his way and found himself on the third level. This level was entirely different and olcl-fashioned. The
locomotive, the brass spittoons and the naked gaslights belonged to the previous century. He desired to escape
to Galesburg, the town of his dreams. However, he was nearly arrested. The money he gave to pay the fare was
different from that in use those days. The booking clerk thought that he was cheating. Charley, thus, ran into the
present. He never found the third level again. However, his psychiatrist friend, who did not believe that the third
level existed, found it and escaped to Galesburg of 1894.

The Third Level Main Characters in the Chapter

Charley

Charley is a thirty-one year old man in a tan gabardine suit and a straw hat. One night, on his way back from work,
he decides to take the subway at the Grand Central Station, which as everyone knows, has two levels.
Preoccupied and in a hurry, Charley discovers an unknown exit that takes him through a long corridor, into the
third level.

Here, there were fewer ticket windows, the man at the booth wore green eye-shades, the lights were open-flame
gas lights, and women wore old-fashioned, fully covered dresses. The newspaper, ‘The World’, was dated June
11,1894. Charley knows that from there, the third level of the Grand Central, he could go to anywhere in the United
States, 1984. He decides to buy two tickets to Galesburg, Illinois, for his wife Louisa and himself from the ticket
window in the third level.
Galesburg, with its big old houses, huge lawns and tremendous trees represents an idyllic world to Charley, with
the World War II still forty years into the future. However, the clerk at the window refuses the currency Charley
offers. Charley leaves, deciding to return the next day, after converting all his savings into old-style currency. But
Charley has never again found the third level.

When Charley tells his psychiatrist friend, Sam Weiner about this, Sam tells him that it was “a waking dream wish
fulfilment” as Charley was “unhappy” in the modern world with its insecurities and fears, and just wanted to
escape. Charley never again found the corridor that led to the third level at the Grand Central. Ironically, his friend
Sam, the psychiatrist, disappeared, only to reach Galesburg, Illinois, in 1894.

Sam

Sam Weiner is Charley’s friend, and psychiatrist, and the next most important character in the story. He
concludes that the third level is a figment of Charley’s imagination, induced by the pressures of modern living.

When Charley fails to find the third level of the Grand Central Station, his wife Louisa is worried for him and tells
him to stop looking for it. But after sometime, both start looking for it because they find proof that the third level
exists. Charley’s friend, Sam Weiner disappears. A first-day cover that Charley discovers in his collection, is
signed by Sam and is from Galesburg, Illinois, dated July 18,1894. Charley subsequently discovers that Sam had
bought eight- hundred dollars worth of old-style currency and moved to Galesburg, Illinois, in 1894. He had . set
up a hay, feed and grain business as he had always said that it is what he really wished to do. Clearly, he could
not go back to his old business—psychiatry—in Galesburg, Illinois, in 1894.

Louisa

Charley’s wife Louisa was initially angry with Sam’s suggestion that Charley was unhappy, ‘ when Charley tells
him about his sojourn to the third level of the Grand Central Station in New York. Then Sam explains that it is not
marital unhappiness, but dissatisfaction and discontent with modern day living with its insecurity, fear, war and
worry. To escape from these pressures, Charley’s mind had sought refuge in the idyllic world of the third level.
Louisa’s conviction in the existence of the third level is affirmed only when she sees the note sent by Sam
himself, from Galesburg, Illinois, dated July 18, 1894. Since then, Louisa has been actively involved in looking for
the third level, along with her husband, Charley.
The Tiger King Summary
The Maharaja of Pratibandapuram is the hero of this story. He also came to be
known as Tiger King. As soon as he was born, astrologers had foretold that one day
the Tiger King would actually have to die. The ten-day-old prince addressed the
astrologers as “O wise prophets”. He asked them to tell him the manner of his death.
The chief astrologer said that death would come from the Tiger. The prince growled,
“Let tigers beware!”

When the crown prince came of age at twenty, his state came into his hands. There
were many forests in the Pratibandapuram State. They had tigers in them. The
Maharaja started out on a tiger hunt. The Maharaja was thrilled when he killed his
first tiger. He sent for the state astrologer. The old man said, “Your majesty may kill
ninety-nine tigers in exactly the same manner. But you must be very careful with the
hundredth tiger.” The astrologer promised to tear up all his books on astrology and
set fire to them, if he killed the hundredth tiger.

The state banned tiger hunting by anyone except the Maharaja. The Maharaja vowed
he would attend to all other matters only after killing the hundred tigers. Initially the
king seemed well set to realise his ambition. He faced many dangers too.
Sometimes the bullet missed its mark. The tiger jumped upon him. He fought the
beast with his bare hands. Each time it was the Maharaja who won.

Once he was in danger of losing his throne. A high-ranking British officer visited
Pratibandapuram. He was very fond of hunting tigers and fonder of being
photographed with the tigers he had shot. He wished to hunt tigers in
Pratibandapuram. The Maharaja was firm in his resolve. He refused permission.
Since he had prevented a British officer from fulfilling his desire, the Maharaja stood
in danger of losing his kingdom itself. The Maharaja and the dewan held
deliberations over this issue. About fifty expensive diamond rings of different
designs were sent to the British officer’s good lady. The king and the minister
expected her to choose one or two rings and send the rest back. But she kept all of
them and sent a letter of thanks. The Maharaja was happy that though he had lost
three lakh of rupees, he had managed to retain his kingdom.

The Maharaja’s tiger hunt continued to be highly successful. Within ten years he had
killed seventy tigers. But then there were no tigers left in Pratibandapuram. One day
the Maharaja sent for his dewan and told him that thirty tigers still remained to be
shot down by his gun. He told the dewan that he had decided to get married. The
dewan found the right girl from a state with a large number of tigers. Each time
Maharaja Jung Jung Bahadur visited his father-in-law, he killed five or six tigers. In
this way ninety-nine tiger skins adorned the walls of the reception hall in the
Pratibandapuram palace.

There remained just one tiger to be killed to reach the figure of a hundred. But the
tiger farms had now run dry even in his father-in-law’s kingdom. It became
impossible to locate tigers anywhere. The Maharaja was sunk in gloom. Soon he got
a happy news. In his own state sheep began to disappear frequently from a hillside
village. Surely, a tiger was at work. The villagers ran to inform the Maharaja, but the
tiger was not easily found. The Maharaja refused to leave the forest until the tiger
was found. Maharaja’s anger and obstinacy rose higher. Many officers lost their
jobs.

One day the Tiger King was very angry. He called the dewan and ordered him to
double the land tax forthwith. The dewan said that the people would become
discontented. Then their state too would fall a prey to the Indian National Congress.
The king asked the dewan to resign. The dewan felt afraid. He felt life returning to
him only when he saw the tiger which had been brought from the People’s Park in
Madras and kept hidden in his house.

At midnight the town was sleeping in peace. The dewan and his aged wife dragged
the old tiger to the car and shoved it into the seat. The dewan himself drove the car
straight to the forest where the Maharaja was hunting. Now the tiger refused to get
out of the car. Somehow the dewan hauled the beast out of the car and pushed it
down to the ground.

On the following day, the same old tiger wandered into the Maharaja’s presence and
stood there. It was with boundless joy that the Maharaja took careful aim at the
beast. The tiger fell in a crumpled heap. The Maharaja was happy that his vow to kill
hundred tigers had been fulfilled. Ordering the tiger to be brought to the capital in
grand procession, Maharaja left in his car. After the Maharaja left, the hunters went
to take a closer look at the tiger. The tiger rolled its eyes and looked back at them.
The men realised that the tiger was not dead. The bullet had missed it. It had fainted
from the shock of the bullet whizzing past. One of the hunters took aim from a
distance of one foot and shot the tiger. The dead tiger was taken in procession
through the town and buried.

A few days later the third birthday of the Maharaja’s son was celebrated. He wished
to give him some special gift on his birthday. He spotted a wooden tiger in a toyshop
and decided it was the perfect gift. The wooden tiger cost only two annas and a
quarter. But the shopkeeper called it a bargain at three hundred rupees. He praised it
as an extremely rare example of craftsmanship. Actually, it had been carved by an
unskilled carpenter. Its surface was rough. Tiny slivers of wood stood up like quills
all over it. When the Maharaja was playing with his son, one of those slivers pierced
the Maharaja’s right hand. He pulled it out with his left hand and continued to play
with the prince.

The next day, infection flared in the Maharaja’s right hand. In four days, it developed
into a sore emitting pus. It spread all over his arm. Three famous surgeons were
brought in from Madras. After holding a consultation, they decided to operate. The
operation was successful but the Maharaja died. In this manner the hundredth tiger
took its final revenge upon the Tiger King.
The Enemy Summary
The scene of action is a spot on the Japanese coast. Dr Sadao Hoki’s house was a
low, square stone built house. It was set upon rocks well above a narrow beach
outlined with bent pines. Sadao’s father had a deep concern for his son’s education.
So Sadao had been sent to America at twenty-two to learn all that could be learned
of surgery and medicine there. He returned at thirty. He became famous not only as
a surgeon but as a scientist also.

It was the time of the World War. Japan was at war with America. Dr Sadao had not
been sent abroad with the troops. The old General was under medical treatment and
he might need an operation. So, Dr Sadao was being kept in Japan.

Sadao watched mists hide outlines of a little island near the shore. Then it came
creeping up the beach below his house. His wife, Hana, came out and put her hand
on his arm. It gave him pleasure. Then she laid her cheek against his arm.

At this moment, both of them saw something black come out of the mists. It was a
man. He staggered a few steps. Then the curled mists hid him again. Hana and
Sadao leaned over the railing of the veranda. They saw a man crawling on his hands
and knees. Then he fell down on his face and lay there. They thought that it was
perhaps a fisherman who had been washed from his boat.

When they came towards him, they saw that he was wounded. He lay motionless.
They saw his face. Hana whispered that he was “a white man”. Sadao began to
search for the wound. Blood flowed freshly at his touch. In order to stanch the fearful
bleeding, he packed the wound with the sea moss. The man was unconscious. He
moaned with pain in his stupor but he did not awaken.

Sadao muttered, “What shall we do with this man?” He said that the best thing that
they could do was to put him back in the sea. Hana agreed with it. Sadao explained
that it was a difficult situation. If they sheltered a white man in their house, they
would be arrested. If they turned him over as a prisoner, he would certainly die. They
were staring upon the inert figure with a curious repulsion.

Then they tried to find out what he was. He looked American. The battered cap had
faint lettering “US Navy”. They concluded that he was a sailor from an American
warship. The man was a prisoner of war. He had escaped and was wounded in the
back.

Hana asked Sadao if they were able to put him back into the sea. Sadao hesitated. If
the man had been whole, he could be turned over to the police without difficulty as
he was his enemy. All Americans were his enemy. But since he was wounded they
should not throw him back to the sea.
Hana observed that there was only one thing left to do. They must carry him into
their house. Sadao was not sure about the reaction of the servants. Hana suggested
that they must tell the servants that they intended to give him to the police. She said
that they must do so, otherwise all of them would be in danger.

Together they lifted the man. He was very light. They carried him up the steps and
into the side door of the passage. They carried him to an empty bedroom. Since the
man was quite dirty, Sadao suggested that he had better be washed. If she fetched
the water, he would wash the man. Hana could not bear him to touch the man. She
offered to tell the maid Yumi. Sadao took the responsibility of informing others.

The pallor of the unconscious man’s face moved him first to stoop and feel his
pulse. It was faint but it was there. He put his hand against the man’s cold breast.
The heart too was yet alive. Sadao observed that he would die unless operated upon.
The man was very young perhaps not even twenty-five. The man had to be washed
first. However, the servants refused to do so. They did not want their master to heal
the enemy.

Hana washed the man till his upper body was quite clean. Sadao put his instruments
upon a sterilised towel. He began to wash the man’s back carefully. He asked Hana
to give the anaesthetic if he needed it. Hana choked. She clapped her hands to her
mouth and ran out of the room. He heard her retching in the garden. She had never
seen an operation.

Sadao proceeded swiftly. Hana came in. Sadao asked her to saturate the cotton and
hold it near his nostrils. She had to move it away a little when he breathed badly.
Then Sadao got busy. He felt the tip of his instrument strike against something hard.
It was just near his kidney. Then with the cleanest and most precise incision, the
bullet was out. The man quivered, but he was still unconscious. Sadao gave him an
injection and the man’s pulse grew stronger.

Hana had to serve the youngman herself, for none of the servants would enter the
room. The man grew stronger day by day. The servants decided to quit if their
master kept the enemy hidden there. On the seventh day, the servants left together.
Hana carried the morning food to the prisoner. On coming back, she asked Sadao
why they could not see clearly what they ought to do.

In the afternoon, a messenger came in official uniform. He asked Dr Sadao to come

to the palace at once as the old General was in pain. Hana breathed a sigh of relief.
When Sadao came to say good bye, she revealed her fear. She had thought that they
had come to arrest him. Sadao promised to get rid of that man for her sake.

Sadao told the General about the man he had operated upon. The General
acknowledged why Sadao was indispensable to him. The General promised to send
his private assassins to kill the man and remove his body. He asked Sadao to leave
the outer partition of the white man’s room to the garden open while he slept.

Sadao went home, thinking over the plan. He would tell Hana nothing. He was
surprised to see the young American out of bed and preparing to go into the garden.
He complained that the muscles on one side felt stiff. Dr Sadao said that exercise
and massage will be helpful. He then asked Tom, the young American to go to bed.
Sadao slept badly that night.

The next morning, Sadao went to the guest room and found him asleep. The second
night also passed. The young man was still there. He had shaved himself. There was
a faint colour in his cheeks.

Dr Sadao told him that he was quite well then. He offered to put his boat on the
shore that night. It would have food and extra clothing in it. Tom might be able to
row to that little island not far from the coast. It had not been fortified. Nobody lived
there as it was submerged in storm. Since it was not the season of storm, he could
live there till he saw a Korean fishing boat pass by.

As soon as it was dark, Sadao made preparations to help the young man escape. He
gave him his flashlight. He asked him to give him two flashes as the sun set in case
his food ran out. In case he was still there and all right, he was to signal him only
one. He was warned not to signal in darkness, for it would be seen. The prisoner was
now dressed in Japanese clothes. A black cloth was wrapped round his blond head.
He found the way to the boat. Sadao waited till he saw one flash from the shore.

Dr Sadao had been called in the night to perform an emergency operation on the
General. It involved his gall bladder. For twelve hours Sadao had not been sure the
General would live. Then he began to breathe deeply again and to demand for food.
Sadao had not been able to ask about the assassins. So far as he knew they had
never come. The servants had returned. The room was cleaned.

One week after the operation, Sadao felt that the General was well enough to be
spoken to about the prisoner. Sadao informed him that the prisoner had escaped.
The General asked the doctor whether he had not promised to kill the man for the
doctor. He then confessed the truth. He had been suffering a great deal.

So, he thought of nothing but himself. He had forgotten his promise. That night
Sadao waited at dusk for the light from the island. There was none. His prisoner had
gone away and was safe. Sadao wondered why he could not kill the young man
though white people were repulsive.
Journey to The End of The Earth
Journey to The End of The Earth Introduction to the Chapter

Before human evolution, Antarctica was part of a huge tropical landmass called the Gondwana land which
flourished 500 million years ago. Geological, geographical and biological changes occurred and Antarctica
separated and moved away, evolving into what it is today.

A visit to Antarctica gave Tishani Doshi a deeper understanding of the earth’s history, ecology and environment.

Journey to The End of The Earth Theme

Tishani Doshi’s visit to Antarctica, the coldest, driest and windiest continent in the world, aboard the Russian
research vessel Akademik Shokalskiy, gave her a deeper understanding and a better perspective to the damage
caused by human impact on earth. Antarctica, though unpopulated, has been affected and there is a growing
concern for its half a million year old carbon records trapped under its ice sheets.

The ‘Students on Ice’ programme takes high school students to Antarctica to create awareness in them, the
future policy makers, and helps students realise that the threat of global warming is very real.

Journey to The End of The Earth Summary in English

Humans, who have existed a mere 12,000 years, have caused tremendous damage and played havoc with nature.
Population explosion, strain on available resources, carbon emissions, fossil fuels and global warming have all
resulted in climatic and ecological imbalances that have affected Antarctica too.

The ‘Students on Ice’ programme, an initiative of Canadian educator, Geoff Green, takes students—the future
policy makers—to Antarctica, to create awareness in them. A stark proof of global warming and environmental
threats helps students attain a greater understanding of the earth’s ecosystems and biodiversity.
On the Face of It Summary
The first scene is located in Mr Lamb’s garden. There is an occasional sound of bird
song and of tree leaves rustling. Derry’s footsteps are heard as he walks slowly and
hesitantly through the long grass. He comes round a screen of bushes. When Mr
Lamb speaks to Derry he is close at hand. Naturally, Derry is startled.

Mr Lamb asks Derry to mind the apples. Derry enquires about the person. Mr Lamb
gives his name and again asks him to mind the apples. He adds that those are crab
apples. They have been blown down from the tree by the wind and are lying in the
long grass. The boy could step on one of them and fall.

Derry tries to explain. He says that he thought that was an empty place. He did not
know there was anybody there. Mr Lamb asks him not to be afraid. He explains that
the house is empty since he is out in the garden. He observes that such a beautiful
day is not worth spending indoors.

Derry panics and says that he has got to go. Mr Lamb assures him that he should not
feel disturbed on his account-he doesn’t mind who comes into the garden. The gate
is always open. It was only the boy who climbed the garden wall. Derry is angry that
the old man had been watching him. Mr Lamb welcomes Derry.

Derry explains that he had not come to steal anything. Mr Lamb assures him that he
hadn’t. He further adds that only the young lads steal. They steal apples from the
garden. He is not that young. Derry explains that he just wanted to come into the
garden. He wants to go and says goodbye.

Mr Lamb tells him that there is nothing to be afraid of. It is just a garden and only
one person, that is, he himself is there. Derry then says that people are afraid of him.
He asks Mr Lamb to look at him and after seeing his face he might think that he is
the most frightful and ugliest thing. Derry says that when he looks in the mirror and
sees his face, he is afraid of it. Mr Lamb says that the whole of his face is not
frightening.

There is pause. Mr Lamb now changes the topic. He says when it is a bit cooler, he’ll
get the ladder and a stick, and pull down those crab apples. They are ripe for making
a jelly. September is the right time of year for it. The apples look orange and golden.
He tells Derry that he could help him.

Derry asks him what he has changed the subject for. He says that the old man does
not ask him because he is afraid to do so. Derry says that he doesn’t like being with
people. Mr Lamb makes a guess. Perhaps the boy got burned in a fire. Derry says
that he got acid all down that side of his face and it burned it all away. Derry asks Mr
Lamb if he is not interested. The old man says he is interested in anybody and
anything made by God—even grass, rubbish, weeds, flowers, fruit. He observes that it
is all life-developing just as they are.

When Derry says that they are not the same, Mr Lamb says that there is no
difference. He is old, Derry is young and has got a burned face. The old man has got
a tin leg. His real one got blown off years back in the war. Some kids call him Lamey-
Lamb but it doesn’t disturb him. There are plenty of things other than his leg to stare
at. He refers to Beauty and the Beast. Derry says that no one will kiss him. He won’t
change.

Derry says that people talk about persons who are in pain and brave and never cry or
complain and don’t feel sorry for themselves. People try to console people suffering
from physical impairment by asking them to think of all those people worse off than
them. They might have been blinded, or born deaf, or have to live in a wheel chair, or
be insane and dribble. But all this will not change his face. Even totally strange
persons call him terrible.

Derry repeats that he doesn’t like being near people: specially when they stare at him
and when he sees them being afraid of him. Mr Lamb then tells him the story of a
man who was afraid of everything in the world. So he locked himself in his room and
stayed in his bed. A picture fell off the wall onto his head and killed him.

Derry says that the old man said peculiar things. Then he asks what he does all day.
Mr Lamb replies that he sits in the sun. He reads books. His house is full of books.
His house has no curtains as he does not like shutting things out. He likes the light
and the darkness. He hears the wind from the open window. Derry too hears the
sound of rain on the roof, when it is raining. Mr Lamb observes that if he hears
things, he is not lost. Derry says that people talk about him downstairs when he is
not there. They seem to be worried about him and his future. Mr Lamb gives him a
very inspiring advice. He will get on the way he wants like all the rest as he has all the
God-given organs. He could even get on better than all the rest, if he determined to
do so.

Mr Lamb tells Derry that he has hundreds of friends. The gate is always open. People
come in. Kids come for the apples, pears and for toffee. He makes toffee with honey.
Sometimes his friendship may be one-sided. Even if Derry might never see him again,
Mr Lamb would be still his friend.

He tells Derry that hating others is bad. It harms more than any bottle of acid.
Everything is the same, but everything is different.

Derry’s attitude shows a gradual change. He wants to come there again. He thinks
that the other friends of Mr Lamb might go away, if he came. Mr Lamb assures him
that people are not afraid of him because he is not afraid of them.
Derry wants to stay there but he has to inform his mother where he is. His house is
three miles away. Mr Lamb asks him to run there and inform his mother. Derry asks
the old man about the persons who come there. He thinks that nobody ever comes
there. The old man is there all by himself and miserable. No one would know if he
were alive or dead and nobody cared. Derry says that he’ll come back. Then Derry
runs off.

In the second scene we see Derry and his mother. He informs his mother about the
lame old man. She tells him not to go there. Derry says that he wants to go there, sit
and listen to things and look. No body else has ever said the things the old man has
said. When his mother says that he is best off there, Derry says he hates it there. He
no longer cares about his face. It is not important. It’s what he thinks, feels, sees,
hears and finds out that is important. He is going there to help the old man with crab
apples and to look at things and listen. If he doesn’t go back there, he will never go
anywhere in that world again.

The third or last scene is again located in Mr Lamb’s garden. Derry reaches Mr
Lamb’s garden panting. He finds Mr Lamb lying on the grass with the ladder. Derry
tells him that he has come back. Since Mr Lamb fails to respond, Derry kneels by him
and begins to weep and the curtain falls. The play has a very pathetic end.
Memories of Childhood Summary
I. The Cutting of My Long Hair (Zitkala-Sa)
It was the writer’s first day at school. It was bitter cold. A large bell rang for
breakfast. Shoes clattered on bare floors. Many voices murmured. A paleface
woman, with white hair, came up after them. They were placed in a line of girls who
were marching into the dinning room. She walked noiselessly in her soft moccasins.
She felt like sinking to the floor, for her blanket had been removed from her
shoulders. The Indian girls did not seem to care though they were more immodestly
dressed in tight fitting clothes. The boys entered at an opposite door. A small bell
was tapped. Each of the pupils drew a chair from under the table. The writer pulled
out hers. She at once slipped into it from one side. She turned her head. She found
that she was the only one seated. All the rest at their table remained standing. She
began to rise. A second bell sounded. All were seated at last. She heard a man’s
voice at the end of the hall. She looked around to see him. All the others hung their
heads over their plates. She found the paleface woman looking at her. The man
stopped his mutterings. Then a third bell was tapped. Everyone picked up his knife
and fork and began eating. She began to cry. This eating by formula was a difficult
experience.

Late in the morning her friend Judewin told her that she had overheard the paleface
woman talk about cutting their long heavy hair. Among their people, short hair was
worn by mourners and shingled hair by cowards. Judewin said that they had to
submit because the school authorities were strong. The writer rebelled. She decided
to struggle before submitting.

When no one noticed, she disappeared and crept upstairs. She hid herself under the
bed in a large room with three white beds in it. She heard loud voices in the hall
calling her name. Even Judewin was searching for her. She did not open her mouth
to answer. The sound of steps came nearer and nearer. Women and girls entered the
room. They searched her everywhere. Someone threw up the curtains. The room was
filled with sudden light. They stopped and looked under the bed. She was dragged
out. She resisted by kicking and scratching wildly. She was carried downstairs and
tied fast in a chair.

She cried aloud and shook her head. Then she felt the cold blade of scissors against
her neck. One of her thick braids was removed. Her long hair was being shingled like
a coward’s. Since the day she had come here, she had suffered insults. People had
stared at her. She had been tossed about in the air like a wooden puppet. She
moaned for her mother, but no one came to comfort her. Now she was only one of
many little animals driven by a herder.

II. We Too are Human Beings (Bama)

When Bama was studying in the third class, she had not yet heard people speak
openly of untouchability. But she had already seen, felt, experienced and been
humiliated by what it was.
She was walking home from school one day. It was possible to walk the distance in
ten minutes, but it would usually take her at least thirty minutes. She watched all the
fun and games, novelties and oddities in the streets, the shops and the bazaar. Each
thing would pull her to a standstill and not allow her to go any further.

Speeches by leaders of political parties, street plays, puppet show, stunt

performances or some other entertainment happened from time to time. She
watched waiters pouring coffee in other tumbler to cool it, people chopping up onion
with eyes turned to other side, or almonds blown down from the tree by the wind.
According to the season, there would be various fruit. She saw people selling sweet
and tasty snacks, payasam, halva and iced lollies.

One day she saw in her street, a threshing floor set up in the corner. Their people
were driving cattle in pairs round and round to crush the grain from straw. The
animals were muzzled. She saw the landlord seated on a piece of sacking spread
over a stone slab. He was watching the proceedings. She stood there for a while,
watching the fun.

Just then, she saw an elder of their street coming from the direction of the bazaar.
He looked quite funny in his manner. He held out a packet by its string without
touching it. Then he went to the landlord, bowed low and extended the packet
towards him. He cupped the hand that held the string with his other hand. The
landlord opened the parcel and began to eat the vadais.

She told her elder brother the story with its comic details. Annan was not amused.
He told her that the elder was carrying the package for his upper caste landlord.
These people believed that people of lower caste should not touch them. If they did,
they would be polluted. That was the reason why he had to carry the package by the
string. She became sad on listening all this. She felt angry towards the people of
upper castes.

She thought that these miserly people, who had collected money somehow, had lost
all human feelings. But the lower castes were also human beings. They should not
do petty jobs for them. They should work in their fields, take their wages home, and
leave it at that.

Annan, her elder brother, was studying at a university. He had come home for the
holidays. He would often go to the library in their neighbouring village in order to
borrow books. One day, one of the landlord’s men met him. Thinking him to be a
stranger, he addressed Annan respectfully. His manner changed on knowing his
name and he asked for the street he lived in. The street would indicate their caste.

Annan told her that they were not given any honour, dignity or respect because they
were born in a particular community. He advised her to study and make progress.
People will come to her of their own accord then. She studied hard and stood first in
her class. Many people then became her friends.
Notice
♦ Important Tips to be followed while writing a Notice

• Adhere to the specified word limit of 50 words.

• Write the word NOTICE at the top.
• Name and place of the school, organisation or office issuing the notice
should be mentioned.
• Give an appropriate heading.
• Write the date of issuing the notice.
• Clearly mention the target group (for whom the notice is to be
displayed).
• Purpose of the notice.
• Mention all the relevant details (date, venue, time).
• Signature, name and designation of the person issuing the notice.
• Put the notice in a box.
Invitation and Replies Class 12 Format
♦ Invitation
To invite someone for an occasion, we use the written form Invitation.
Invitations are generally printed cards through which we invite our guests on some
auspicious occasions like wedding, birthday, wedding anniversary, house warming,
the inauguration of a shop/factory, etc.

♦ Invitations are of two types:

(a) Formal and
(b) Informal.

These can be printed on cards or can be drafted in the form of letters.

♦ Main Characteristics:
An invitation is a complete information. It answers the questions: who, whom, when,
where, what time and for what. The important components of an invitation, therefore,
are:

• Occasion
• Name(s) of the invitee(s)
• Name(s) of the host(s)
• Date, time and venue.
• Name(s) of the chief guest or special invitees, in case of an official
invitation.

♦ Format of Formal Invitations:

In case of formal invitations, each of the following is written in a separate line with
fonts of varying sizes.

• Names of the hosts

• Name of the invitee (in case of a formal letter of invitation)
• Formal phrase of invitation, for example:
Request the pleasure your benign presence/company Seek your
auspicious presence
Solicit your gracious presence on the auspicious occasion
• Date, time and venue of the event
• Occasion/ reason of the invitation.

♦ Characteristics of Formal Invitations:

1. Meant for a lot of invitees:

• These are written in the third person

• In case a VIP is invited as the chief guest, the name of the VIP must
appear prominently.
 • Name of the invitee is not to be included. The addressee’s address is to
be written only on the envelope.
• Simple present tense is to be used.
• The date of writing is not to be given.
• There is no signature of the host.
• The abbreviation RSVP (French: repondez silvers plait) i.e. ‘Please reply’
is written below on the left side with name(s), address and phone
number of the host(s).
• Put the invitation into a box.
• Do not exceed 50 words.

2. Meant for an individual (a formal letter of invitation)

• Include the name of the invitee.

• These are to be written on run-on lines. The sentence is not broken into
different words/phrases.
• Other details are similar to the mass-scale invitations.

♦ Writing Informal Invitations:

Informal

• Written in a letter form, in an informal format. Such letters are very

persuasive in nature.
• Written in the first person.
• Salutation is ‘dear + name’.
• Complimentary close ‘Yours sincerely’.
• Date of writing the invitation is given.
• Sender’s address appears on the left-hand side.
• Various tenses used to suit the sense.

♦ Replies

Replies Accepting or Declining

Formal Follow a set formula:

• formal words: ‘kind invitation’, ‘great pleasure’, ‘regret’, etc.

• Use third person (‘they’) instead of first person (T, ‘We’)
• Address of the writer and the date to be written.

♦ Informal – Accepting or Declining

• Like an ordinary letter

• Do not use any formal expressions, but use informal words and
expressions
• Use first person (‘I’, ‘We’).
Article Writing Class 12 Format
An article is an expression of one’s thought on an issue or a subject logically and
coherently written in meaningful paragraphs.

♦ Points to Remember:

• Give a title that catches the attention of the reader.

• Begin with a striking opening sentence which addresses the readers and
gets them interested in the topic.
• Present a strong argument for your ideas supporting it with evidence or
elaboration.
• Use linking devices (‘however’, ‘therefore’, ‘although’, ‘even though’, ‘in
order to’) to make the composition appear a whole.
• Introduce a new point at the beginning of each paragraph that follows to
strengthen your ideas.
• Develop your ideas as much as you can to make them interesting and
substantial.
• Conclude with your strongest point.
• Use passive voice, humour, emotive language, rhetorical questions to
provide a specific effect. Split-up of marks:

♦ Marks will be awarded for:

• Format (Title + Writer’s name)

• Content (logical organisation, relevance)
• Expression (Accuracy + Fluency)
Report Writing Class 12 Format
♦ Formal Address:
A report is a brief account of an event that has already taken place. The report helps
in recording the events of importance that occur in our day-to-day life. It attempts to
present the firsthand information of an incident or event. A report of an event
presents a record of events that took place. A report of an event includes one’s
ideas, opinions and impressions about the event.

♦ Points to Remember:

• Mention the place, date, time and other relevant facts about the event.
• Include information collected from the people around or affected by the event.
• Write the name of the reporter.
• Provide a suitable title/heading.
• Write in past tense.
• Write in reported speech and use passive form of expression.
• Develop ideas (causes, reasons, consequences, opinions) logically.
• Write in a less formal and more descriptive manner, while writing a report for a
school magazine.
• Present your ideas and impressions to make the report interesting.

♦ Marks will be awarded for:

1. Title
2. Reporter’s name
3. Content
4. Expression: Accuracy + Fluency