"She should have been here by 4.30. It is 5.30 now and she still has not come," Sharada replied. Sharada`s college closed at 3.00 and she was usually back home by 4.00 p.m. "Yesterday too she was late." "In fact, since the last few weeks she has been coming home late." / "Did you ask her?" "Yes, I did, last week." 20

"Has Priya not come home as yet?" Surya asked, depositing his bag in the cramped drawing-cum- dining-room of his tiny two bedroom flat. He had just returned from work. He was a cashier in the State Bank of Hyderabad, while his wife, Sharada, a lab assistant in Reddy College for Women. Their daughter, Priya, was a Class X student in Saint Anne`s School. They lived in Vidyanagar, while Priya` s school was in Tarnaka around six kilometres away. There was a direct bus from Priya`s school to

enough she knows how to keep a happy home, cook well, look after the children when they arrive..." Arumugham`s mother scowled. "Amma. Days have changed. Appa was always with you. I will be posted at non-family stations often. Shanti will have to be on her own. She is right, Amma, let her complete her graduation. Then we will marry. Till then..." "Till then?" "Till then we remain engaged," Arumugham said firmly. Next day, when he ran into Shanti near the cluster of bamboos she was bub

Remember, Thankachi, you were ly twelve when you got married. Are you not happy with Mani? Such a nice man. Who chose him for you? Our parents. I think choosing the bride or the bridegroom is our right. Further, Shanti and Arumugham are cousins. And they are made for each other, muraipenn and muraipillai," Arumugham`s father laid down his case. "Mama!" Shanti was happy that Arumugham had already talked to his parents about her view. "Yes, my dear," the old man gave her the nod. "I

"Ah, Aaru, did you meet Shanti? Poor girl, she doesn`t know that her days of freedom are over, that you have come to tie the mangalsutra on her neck and take her away with you. We let her have all the fun till you came on leave." The old man had a big smile on his face. "You should have taken her into confidence," Arumugham mumbled. "We, the elders, decide what is good for you. You are children. What do you know?" his father was stern. "But, Appa, Shanti doesn`t want to marry now," A

English is essential for many second language learners, yet it is to grasp. Of course, in some cases we would find that many language learners feel difficult to master English in various contexts. The really serious matter we find in the context is that they are lack of knowing enough vocabulary they need. It is therefore English would be difficult at this stage since as common sense, vocabulary is the fundamental language content that learners must study before they attend other sali

`Life is / I tell myself, as I stand before the mirror and watch acne, that dreaded scum of a disease, playing havoc with my face. I wish I could drive the pimples out with a wave of the hand. Then I tell myself that acne is a temporary ravage that makes life a little less comfortable for a teenager. But it is a sure sign of a child moulting into an adult. `Life is tough/1 turn away from the mirror, when it strikes me like a bolt of lightning. My voice has turned rough, almost rauc

down with a dangerous cold, one that could kill! They force me into bed, send for the doctor who pumps all sorts of medicines into my system. They pray to all the gods and goddesses—according to our religious texts we have thirty-three crores of them—to cure me quickly and set apart money for donating to the gods, once I am back on my feet. That is what I do in a day or two, none the worse for the temporary cold. When I tease them for being over-protective, they grunt, "How would you k

apart by me, would get reunited; bits and pieces of crayons that dot the floor would go into the bin; the dust would be swept off the table and the room would gain a fresh look. How I hate her now when she does that! I have put up a warning on the door: Knock Before You Enter Beneath the above instruction is a warning: My Room! Love It Or Hate It! Amma sees the notice, but behaves as if it is Greek or Latin. She continues to step into my room, unmindful of my privacy. How can I make

Is that why, at times, he makes extra efforts to be overtly affectionate! I do not know. May be he tries to kill the fear in him by treating me with caution. He finds safety in treating me as a child. He runs his fingers through my thick, curly hair, holds my head close to his chest and pats me. I would not say I hate him for doing that. But I am not able to enjoy it as I used to. Once, I would give the w world for being held lovingly by Appa. Now I feel as if it is not what Appa s

That raises my hackles. I stamp my feet, shout at her, "I am old enough, Amma. Old enough to be on my own. I will not allow myself to be treated like a kid!" She gives me a stern look and asserts firmly, "My decision is final. No party for you. Not today. Not ever. I do not want you to end up as a wild colt." She has her way. I miss the party. But it does not endear her. I sulk. I do not talk to her for a w day. She coaxes me, placates me till I succumb to her molly-coddling. Then

Appa walks in. Amma warms up to his presence with a gentle nod, then tells me, "Samir, everything takes time. A flower take s time to turn into a fruit. It takes a year for you to go from one class to the next" she grins. Appa caresses my arm and says. "I know you have your fears. We have ours. We must fight our fears ther. You must understand our concerns. There are so many temptations to which a youth is drawn. I do not want to list them. You knowr them now. Come to us, talk to

Shanti swung the satchel lightly and made the instrument box which conned the protractor, the divider and other assorted items that one needs to draw geometrical figures, sing to her. The notes it produced were the beats she needed to provide the orchestra for the gentle notes produced by the breeze that ran into a dancing cluster of bamboos. "Hi! Shanti," she heard the shriek of kes biting into the tyres. She turned quickly and noticed her cousin, Arumugham, tilting the bicycle

win laurels in elocution competitions. Hari Shastri, the village priest, hailed her every time she came to the temple and recited verses: "Vagdevi resides on your tongue," he would say. Yet, she was speechless in the presence of Arumugham. He was not a stranger to her. He was her maternal uncle`s son. Four years older to her. They had grown up ther. Played ther. Fought ther. All that ended once she atned the age of maturity and the family dropped the hint that in a few