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प्रश्न
Discuss these question in class with your teacher and then write down your answer
in two or three paragraphs .
How does Kezia begin to see her father as a human being who needs her sympathy?
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उत्तर
APPEARS IN
संबंधित प्रश्न
This story about a frightening incident is narrated in a humorous way. What makes it
humorous? (Think of the contrasts it presents between dreams and reality. Some of them
are listed below.)
1. (i) The kind of person the doctor is (money, possessions)
(ii) The kind of person he wants to be (appearance, ambition)
2.(i) The person he wants to marry
(ii) The person he actually marries
3.(i) His thoughts when he looks into the mirror
(ii) His thoughts when the snake is coiled around his arm
Write short paragraphs on each of these to get your answer.
Thinking about Poem
What is the meaning of “bleeding bark”? What makes it bleed?
Read a short story about an exemplary boss.
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Working 12 to 18 hours a day was not uncommon for scientists at the rocket launching station, Thumba. A group of such scientists was frustrated due to the work pressure and meeting their boss's demands; however, they were loyal to him. With a jolt he remembered his promise to his children. He looked for his boss who was not in his omee. Having told him just that morning. he wrapped up his work and hurried home. |
- When I was a girl of about twelve, I used to stay in a village in north Karnataka with my grandparents. Those days, the transport system was not very good, so we used to get the morning papers only in the afternoon. The weekly magazine used to come one day late. All of us would wait eagerly for the bus, which used to come with the papers, weekly magazines and the post.
- At that time, Triveni was a very popular writer in the Kannada language. She was a wonderful writer. Her style was easy to read and very convincing. Her stories usually dealt with complex psychological problems in the lives of ordinary people and were always very interesting. Unfortunately, for Kannada literature, she died very young. Even now, after forty years, people continue to appreciate her novels.
- One of her novels, called Kashi Yatre, was appearing as a serial in the Kannada weekly Karmaveera then. It is the story of an old lady and her ardent desire to go to Kashi or Varanasi. Most Hindus believe that going to Kashi and worshipping Lord Vishweshwara is the ultimate punya. This old lady also believed in this, andher struggle to go there was described in that novel. In the story, there was also a young orphan girl who falls in love but there is no money for the wedding. In the end, the old lady gives away all her savings without going to Kashi. She says, 'The happiness of this orphan girl is more important than worshipping Lord Vishweshwara at Kashi.
- 'My grandmother, Krishtakka, never went to school. So, she could not read. Every Wednesday, the magazine would come and I would read the next episode of the
story to her. During that time, she would forget all her work and listen with the greatest concentration. Later, she could repeat the entire text by heart. My grandmother too never went to Kashi so she identified herself with the novel's protagonist. More than anybody else, she was the one most interested in knowing
what happened next in the story and used to insist that I read the serial out to her. - After hearing what happened next in Kashi Yatre, she would join her friends at thetemple courtyard, where we children would also gather to play hide and seek. Shewould discuss the latest episode with her friends. At that time, I never understoodwhy there was so much of debate about the story.
- Once I went for a wedding with my cousins to the neighbouring village. In thosedays, a wedding was a great event. We children enjoyed ourselves thoroughly.
We would eat and play endlessly, savouring the freedom because all the elders were busy. I went for a couple of days but ended up staying there for a week. - When I came back to my village, I saw my grandmother in tears. I was surprised,for I had never seen her cry even in the most difficult of situations. What had happened? I was worried.
- 'Avva, is everything fine? Are you alright?'
- I used to call her Avva, which means mother in the Kannada spoken in north Karnataka.
- She nodded but did not reply. I did not understand and forgot about it. In the night, after dinner, we were sleeping in the open terrace of the house. It was a summer night and there was a full moon. Avva came and sat next to me. Her affectionate hands touched my forehead. I realized she wanted to speak. I asked her, 'What is the matter?'
- When I was a young girl I lost my mother. There was nobody to look after and guide me. My father was a busy man. He got married again. In those days, people never considered education essential for girls, so I never went to school. I got married very young and had children. I became very busy. Later I had grandchildren and always felt so much happiness in cooking and feeding all of you. At times I used to regret not going to school, so I made sure that my children and grandchildren studied well ...'
- I could not understand why my sixty-two-year-old grandmother was telling me, a twelve-year-old, the story of her life in the middle of the night. One thing I knew, I loved her immensely and there had to be some reason why she was talking to me. I looked at her face. It was unhappy and her eyes were filled with tears. She
was a good-looking lady who was almost always smiling. Even today, I cannot forget the worried expression on her face. I leaned forward and held her hand. - 'Avva, don't cry. What is the matter? Can I help you in any way?'
- 'Yes, I need your help. You know when you were away, Karmaveera came as usual. I opened the magazine. I saw the picture that accompanies the story of Kashi Yatre and I could not understand anything that was written. Many times, I rubbed my hands over the pages wishing to understand what was written. But I knew it was not possible. If only I was educated enough... I waited eagerly for you to return. I felt you would come early and read for me. I even thought of going to the village and asking you to read for me. I could have asked somebody in this village but I was too embarrassed to do so. I felt so very dependent and helpless. We are well-off, but what use is money when I cannot be independent?'
- I did not know what to answer. Avva continued.
- 'I have decided I want to learn the Kannada alphabet from tomorrow onwards. I will work very hard. I will keep Saraswati Pooja day during Dassara as the deadline.
That day I should be able to read a novel on my own. I want to be independent.' - I saw the determination on her face. Yet I laughed at her.
- 'Avva, at this age of sixty-two you want to learn the alphabet? All your hair is grey, your hands are wrinkled, you wear spectacles and you have so much work in the
kitchen...' - Childishly I made fun of the old lady. But she just smiled.
- 'For a good cause if you are determined, you can overcome any obstacle. I will work harder than anybody but I will do it. For learning, there is no age bar.'
- The next day onwards, I started my tuition. Avva was a wonderful student. The amount of homework she did was amazing. She would read, repeat, write and recite. I was her only teacher and she was my first student. Little did I know then that one day I would become a teacher in Computer Science and teach hundreds of students.
- The Dassara festival came as usual. Secretly, I bought Kashi Yatre which had been published as a novel by that time. My grandmother called me to the pooja place and made me sit down on a stool. She gifted me a frock. Then she did
something unusual. She bent down and touched my feet. I was surprised and taken aback. Elders never touched the feet of youngsters. We have always touched the feet of God, elders and teachers. We considered that as a mark of
respect. It is a great tradition but today the reverse had happened. It was not correct. - She said, "I am touching the feet of a teacher, not
my granddaughter; a teacher who taught me so well, with so much of affection that I can read any novel confidently in such a short period. Now I am independent. It is
my duty to respect a teacher. Is it not written in our scriptures that a teacher should be respected, irrespective of the gender and age?' - I did return namaskara to her by touching her feet and gave my gift to my first student. She opened it and read the title Kashi Yatre by Triveni and the publisher's
name immediately . - I knew, then, that my student had passed with flying colours.
About the Author
Sudha Murty was born in 1950 in Shiggaon in North Karnataka. A prolific writer in Kannada, she has written seven novels, four technical books, three travelogues and two collections of short stories. Her previous English book 'Wise and Otherwise' has
been translated into thirteen Indian languages. Her stories deal with common lives and human values such as charity, kindness and self-realisation. As a sensitive writer, she writes about the suffering of the people. The main characters in all her
books are highly educated, non compromising, highly principled women.
Read the following extracts from the story, and try to puzzle out the meanings of the encircled words from other words and phrases in the extract. Write the clues in the empty boxes. Then give your own explanation of the encircled word.
When the liner had finally vanished over the horizon, I was absolutely alone in the stormy night sea. First I thought I had to swim one way, then another. It was not even midnight yet, and I had no hope at all of finding my way in this terrible night time ocean. I began to feel afraid. Waves of fear rolled through me, starting from my hands and feet, attacking my heart and then reaching through my neck to my head. Waves broke over me and water went into my snorkel. I realised I would not be able to last even half an hour in such a condition.
I saw individual stars, but I could not distinguish the constellations they belonged to. Then dawn came and put out all my stars and I felt my solitude more keenly. The sky was grey at first, then blue-violet shades appeared. In a few minutes, the colours became brighter, with dark red strips cutting across the sky!
The rising sun came up over the ocean. I was surrounded by large waves. The clouds turned pink and swept across the sky in all directions. It was a windy day.
There was no land visible. I grew alarmed. Had I made a mistake in my calculations? Perhaps the current had carried me a long a way off the course during the night?
An hour passed, perhaps two. "Landlll" I could not deny myself the pleasure of shouting the magic word aloud and of hearing my own voice. Perhaps it was my ghostly island of Siargao? I almost felt I had succeeded - now at least I had hope.
The sun looked out for the last time, as if it was saying goodbye to me, and hid itself away again. In a few minutes the sky was filled with all the colours of a rainbow, the bright shades changing and merging as I watched. At first the clouds became deep red and then their edges turned bright orange. A little while afterwards, the clouds turned lilac and dark violet. Darkness fell swiftly. My second lonely night in the ocean began. The stars came out unnoticed. I changed course and headed for the south west. As it turned out, this was an unforgivable mistake.
Evening was approaching. The ocean around me was full of life; large fish often leapt out of the water and big birds flew right above my head. I could see the island distinctly now. A line of dancing palms stretched the length of its shore. The sides of the mountain were covered in many different shades of green.
An hour passed, perhaps more. It was extraordinarily quiet. Then suddenly to my horror, I discovered my island had noticeably begun to move north and was drifting further and further in that direction right before my eyes. Before I had worked out what was happening and could sharply change my course towards the north, the southern tip of the island had appeared in front of me and, beyond that, open ocean stretched to the very horizon. I was totally at the mercy of the current and realised to my alarm that it was slowly carrying me past the land.
My third night in the ocean crept up unnoticed. This third night in the ocean was very dark, much darker than the two previous ones. I almost decided to die as I had no hope of seeing another dawn. I was suddenly aware of a quiet voice: "Swim to the sound of the breakers."
Indeed, there had been a distant rumbling for some time, although I had paid no attention to it. Now, I started listening and I thought it sounded like the characteristic noise of jet aeroplanes constantly landing and taking off. The voice inside kept insisting that I should swim towards this thunder of waves.
At last I obeyed. Again I heard an approaching rumble. What I suddenly saw at a distance of about 30 or 40 metres has imprinted itself on my memory forever. It was a gigantic wave with steep, very slowly falling crests. Never in my life had I seen such an enormous wave - it even seemed to be touching the sky. It moved very slowly and was fantastically beautiful.
The wave did not break over me as I assumed it would. An irresistible force dragged me up its steep slope right to the very foot of the falling crest. Instinctively I clutched my mask snorkel and managed to take a deep breath. The crest started to break over me and pulled me under it. For a moment, I found myself in the air
under the crest as ifin a cave. Then my body was in a swirling current of water; the inner power of the wave made me recover several times, twisting me in all directions before it subsided.
I realised that I had to try to keep my body on the crest and I quickly took up a horizontal position. This time the wave quickly grabbed me and carried me at great speed for quite a long distance on its crest.
I got up to the surface easily and swam in the direction the waves were heading. "Somewhere there, beyond the reef, there should be a lagoon," I hoped.
Suddenly, I felt something hard under my feet. I could stand up to my chest in water! Around me I could see random currents of water, splashes of foam and phosphorescent spray, all swirling about. Before I fully came to my senses, another large wave approached and carried me some distance further. I was up to my waist in water when a new wave picked me up, taldng me several metres forward. Now the depth of the water was only up to my knees. I had enough time to take a few tentative steps, to catch my breath and look around.
I surfaced at the foot of very tall palm trees. I left a trail of luminous water and my body glittered like some princess's ball-gown. Only now did I feel completely safe. The ocean was behind me ....
(a) I saw individual stars, but I could not distinguish the constellation they belonged to. Then dawn came and put out all my stars.
Therefore, constellation means ................... 
(b) Indeed there had been a distant rumbling for some time, although I had paid no attention to it. Now that I started listening to it I thought it sounded like the characteristic noise of jet airplanes constantly landing and taking off.
Therefore, rumbling means ............
(c) It was a gigantic wave with steep, very slowly falling crests. Never in my life had I seen such an enormous wave. It seemed to be touching the sky.
Therefore, gigantic means ............
(d) The wave did not break over me as I assumed it would. An irrsistible force dragged me up its steep slope, right to the very foot of the falling crest.
Therefore , irrisistible means.....................
(e) For a moment, I found myself caught in the air under the crest, as if in a cave . Then , my body was in the swirling current of water ; the inner power of the wave made me recover several times , twisting me in all directions before it subsided .
Therefore , swirling means..........
(f) All around me I could see random currents of water splashes of foam and phosphorescent spray of luminous water and my body glittered like some princess's ball gown.
Therefore, phosphorescent means .................
Both, all, neither, none
An old man with steel rimmed spectacles and very dusty clothes sat by the side of the road. There was a pontoon bridge across the river and carts, trucks, and men, women and children were crossing it. The mule-drawn carts staggered up the steep bank from the bridge with soldiers helping push against the spokes of the wheels. The trucks ground up and away heading out of it all and the peasants plodded along in the ankle deep dust. But the old man sat there without moving. He was too tired to go any farther.
Read the extract given below and answer the question that follow.
What does the term “pontoon bridge” mean?
Its a cruel thing to leave her so.”
“Then take her to the poorhouse: she’ll have to go there,” answered the blacksmith’s wife, springing away, and leaving Joe behind.
For a little while the man stood with a puzzled air; then he turned back, and went into the hovel again. Maggie with painful effort, had raised herself to an upright position and was sitting on the bed, straining her eyes upon the door out of which all had just departed, A vague terror had come into her thin white face.
“O, Mr. Thompson!” she cried out, catching her suspended breath, “don’t leave me here all alone!” ,
Though rough in exterior, Joe Thompson, the wheelwright, had a heart, and it was very tender in some places. He liked children, and was pleased to have them come to his shop, where sleds and wagons were made or mended for the village lads without a draft on their hoarded sixpences.
“No, dear,” he answered, in a kind voice, going to the bed, and stooping down over the child, “You she’n’t be left here alone.” Then he wrapped her with the gentleness almost of a woman, in the clean bedclothes which some neighbor had brought; and, lifting her in his strong arms, bore her out into the air and across the field that lay between the hovel and his home.
Read the extract given below and answer the question that follow.
Describe the feelings and plight of Maggie when she was left alone.
From the day, perhaps a hundred years ago when he sun had hatched him in a sandbank, and he had broken his shell, and got his head out and looked around, ready to snap at anything, before he was even fully hatched-from that day, when he had at once made for the water, ready to fend for himself immediately, he had lived by his brainless craft and ferocity. Escaping the birds of prey and the great carnivorous fishes that eat baby crocodiles, he has prospered, catching all the food he needed, and storing it till putrid in holes in the bank. Tepid water to live in and plenty of rotted food grew him to his great length. Now nothing could pierce the inch-?thick armoured hide. Not even rifle bullets,
which would bounce off. Only the eyes and the soft underarms offered a place. He lived well in the river, sunning himself sometimes with other crocodiles-muggers, as well as the long-? snouted fish-?eating gharials-on warm rocks and sandbanks where the sun dried the clay on them quite white, and where they could plop off into the water in a moment if alarmed. The big crocodile fed mostly on fish, but also on deer and monkeys come to drink, perhaps a duck or two.
Read the extract given below and answer the question that follow.
How old was the crocodile? How big?
Answer the following question.
Finding good twigs for Kari took a long time. Why?
Answer the following question.
“There was a sudden and wonderful change in his soul”. What brought about the change in Soapy?
Did the wise men win the reward? If not, why not?
Why Maya called Nishad Seven?
Name the narrator in the lesson ‘Expert Detectives’.
Why was it necessary to train Kari to he good?
Why did the shepherd always carry his old blanket with him?
What did the two friends generally talk about?
In groups of four, discuss the following lines and their meanings.
For many of the loveliest things
Have never yet been said
In the poem, We are the Music Makers, what are the 'sea-breakers'?
Complete the following sentence by providing a reason.
In the short story, Atithi, Motilal Babu and Annapurna choose Tarapada as a prospective groom for their daughter because ______.
