ENGLISH LEARNING

MESSIAH OF THE HUMBLE By Shyamal Roy Beggars are a faceless entity in India, their presence only distinguishable by a whining voice or a sleeve plucked by a grimy hand. One hardly takes a second look at them. But not Shyam Bandopadhyay of Salika, Howrah. To him they are very much part of the society and, therefore, have the right to be so identified. It is not surprising, that beggars are his subject to an unending study. An accounts clerk with the Calcutta State Transport Corporation, ‘Bhikhari Shyam,’- as he is better known, is the founder of the unique organization, perhaps the only one of its kind in the world- the Beggars’ Research Bureau. For the past 20 years, he has been collecting statistics on these hapless people in Calcutta and Howrah and 30,000 individual case histories, that he claims to have chronicled so far, reveal some hitherto unkown facts about beggars. The data reveals that for the vast majority of people who vote our leaders into power, the only means of livelihoo

  Casabianca  The boy stood on the burning deck, Whence all but he had fled; The flame, that lit the battle's wreck, Shone round him o'er the dead. Yet beautiful and bright he stood, As born to rule the storm; A creature of heroic blood; A proud though childlike form! The flames rolled on he would not go,  Without his father's word; That father, faint in death below, His voice no longer heard. He called aloud: 'Say, 'father! Say If yet my task be done?' He knew not that the chieftain lay Unconscious of his son. 'Speak, father!' once again he cried, 'If I may yet be gone! And' but the booming shots replied, And fast the flames rolled on. Upon his brow he felt their breath, And in his waving hair, And looked from that lone post of death, In still, yet brave despair. And shouted but once more aloud, 'And father! Must I stay?' While o'er him fast, through sail and shroud, The wreathing fires made way: They caught the flag on high  And str

Mallika  Don't call my daughter Mallika, Call her by any other name ..... Don't call my daughter Mallika It only increases my pain.... And brings to my mind  Things long forgot The years pass by so fast  And yet a whiff of the summer skies Brings Mallika's name to my heart. Perhaps you'll smile at a story  That begins-so ordinarily .... It began the day Sanat Da brought his child bride home And we all flocked around to see. Mallika was a child bride-innocence still touched her face, And yet beside her husband-she was a veritable image of grace. Sanat Da's body was twisted, He had never been able to walk He lay on a bed on the verandah of his house And wrote and read. Teaching the village kids Whenever the mood took him And sometimes gazing-just gazing at the blue skies. The palm trees, the fleecy clouds .... Sometimes just tormented by thought. Mallika's parents were desperately poor And they had eleven more mouths to feed. They would have married Mallika off to

UNIDENTIFIED FLYING OBJECT  Introduction  What is the full form  of UFO? Discuss in pairs the following. Do you think life exists on other planets? Is it possible for us to find out? Why/Why not? Would you like to meet someone from another planet? What do you think this person from another planet will look like? Draw a picture of it. In this lesson you will be reading an article about unidentified flying objects.  Millions of people through the centuries have claimed to have seen objects in the sky. Thousands have taken the trouble to record it and submit their reports to scientists, agencies investing UFOs, various ministries, astronomers, and even the police. Many of these were taken to be meteors, planets, balloons, gases, aircrafts, clouds and even mere figments of the imagination. But there has been a significant number of sightings that have gone beyond man’s explanation. It is true that disc-shaped objects have been sighted by many honest and sober people. Photographs in black a

Night of the Scorpion I rememeber the night my mother  Was stung by a scorpion. Ten hours Of steady rain had driven him To crawl beneath a sack of rice. Parting with his poison flash  Of diabolic tail in the dark room he risked the rain again. The peasants came like swarms of flies  and buzzed the Name of God a hundred times  to paralyse the Evil One. With candles and with lanterns  throwing giant scorpion shadows  on the mud-baked walls  they searched for him: he was not found. They clicked their tongues. With every movement that the scorpion made  his poison moved in mother's blood, they said. May he sit still, they said. May the sins of your previous birth be burned away tonight, they said. May your suffering decrease  the misfortunes of your next birth, they said. May the sum of evil  balanced in this unreal world against the sum of good become diminished by your pain. May the poison purify your flesh of desire, and your spirit of ambition, they said, and they sat around  on th

  In pairs discuss your answers to the following. Do you love God? Does God love you? How do you know? What types of person does God love? Now read the following poem and find out the answer to the third question. ABOU BEN ADHEM Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase) Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace, And saw- within the moonlight in his room, Making it rich and like a lily in bloom- An angel, writing in a book of gold. Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold,  And to the Presence in the room he said, 'What writest thou?' The vision raised its head, And with a look made of all sweet accord, Answered, 'The names of those who love the Lord.' 'And is mine one?' said Abou. 'Nay, not so,' Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low, But cheerly still, and said, 'I pray thee, then, Write me as one that loves his fellow men.' The angel wrote and vanished. The next night, It came again with a great wakening light, And showed the names whom love of G

Childhood Memories of Losar New clothes under pillows Are fresh of smell  And sharp of crease. The morning lies veiled  In the mysteries of purple light. How long this twitching and turning continue Till from teasing sleep I come walking To virginal lights of the Losar morning- To reminiscent hustle and bustle-  To sweet fragrance of burnt juniper Mother offers rice cakes to gods Father blesses with crisp rupee notes Men, women, children drink chang. Bend a little on the knees Spin on your heels and toes  A - tishoo! a - tishoo!  We all have fun. - Guru T. Ladhaki  For Solved Exercises of this poem, click on the link below:  https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCJTgYmbQGweWg7n1IMh3PCA/join