Story of Ambu

This was written for the kids studying in vernacular medium.
(God! Two posts in a day!)

---

Six-year-old Ambu sat under the shade of a banyan tree, tears pricking her eyes.
“Dear God, in next ten minutes, I want to grow up like Anu, Raksha, Aju and Abhi. I don’t want to remain limbu-timbu,” Ambu prayed her eyes shut tight.
After sometime Ambu opened her eyes to find that she was still the same.
She wanted so badly to be in the cricket team, to hit fours and sixes off the full-toss ball. But Ambu was made to run and hunt for the ball in thick hedges and remain at the beck and call of the players.
Today she threw a tantrum, but the teenagers gave her sage advice, “Grow up limbu-timbu.”
Thus sat Ambu wondering how to grow up…when she heard herself being called. There were the others, coming towards her waving and beckoning.
“The ball has disappeared. Will you hunt for it?,” said Aju, panting.
Ambu was about to refuse when he said, “You can bat, if you find it.”
“Really?” Ambu’s eyes were shining now. He nodded.
She jumped and rushed to find the ball.
And soon limbu-timbu Ambu was hitting the ball with the bat.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Interview with Arefa Tehsin

Image
'There was nothing wrong in it,' Dada Bhai said, his head bent towards the cold, unyielding floor. 'Sir?' asked Tapan, who had followed him out, just as he had ushered him in personally. 'A boy and girl loved each other. There was nothing wrong in what Sanaz did. Love. That is what is halal for me.' Valmiki would not be contained, she knew, whenever the news reached him. He would rage within. Waste away in the cavity of his chest. She needed to bundle up all her nerve and pack it inside her. Convey to him soundlessly that he was fortunate to be loved for two years. Two years! An eternity for someone who had not got two whole hours of it in her life.  'A whiff of rosewater is enough...' On Makar Sankranti when the kites soar high, Sanaz' wings are brutally clipped. She is found dead in her room and what follows is a trail of questions hiding violence in their midst; of corrosive human behaviour. The ugliness and degenerate behaviour of the many a char
Read more

Book Review: Murder at the Mushaira

Image
Ghalib goes detecting  When presented with 'What if?', the 'scenario' conjures up numerous possibilities making it an interesting proposition to delve in. What if Mirza Ghalib was a detective? Isn't this enough to hook a reader? We bet so. Thus it is with great interest that we began reading Murder at the Mushaira , and we were not disappointed. Raza Mir, the author, toyed with the possibility of envisioning Ghalib as a detective for nearly 15 years. What we get in Murder at the Mushaira is not a racy whodunit, but more than a peek into the life and times of Ghalib, the Mughal court, the nobility and the sepoys who tried to overthrow the East India Company. The novel is set against the backdrop of First War of Independence and it begins at a point when the 'night is too silent' and ends with a gunshot with the horse rider thrown away from his mount. Who is the horse rider and what is his mission? At that time, Shahjahanabad is a city brewing with tension, in
Read more

Call of the Jungle

Image
  Every morning we wake up to doom and gloom -- the unseasonal rainfall, the floods, the drought, disappearing mangroves, urban forests being mowed down, the dip and the sudden rise in temperature and the illnesses that come with it. What is the world coming to? Can we put a stop to it? Perhaps; for the answer lies within us. In contrast, Iora’s world seems radiant – the trees are tall, the woods are deep, and so colourful with greens and blues, talking birds and animals. Why not? She lives in Twitterland, a hidden rainforest, with hardly any communication with the outside world. But you see the jungle is also doomed, as Iora discovers. The evil forces are dominant and her father’s life is in danger. She has to quickly track down the Five Angels and elusive Spirit of Jungle and get them to meet at Scar-faced lake, on a moonless night. For the first time in her 11 years, Iora steps out of Twitterland, but she is not alone. A dwarf Beetle and her friend-rival, Owlus keep her compan
Read more