“I won’t, I won’t, I won’t. He’s a greedy glutton and I won’t take him to the party,” said Leeladidi* stamping her feet as she stormed out of the room.
Preparations had begun for our school annual day. Two plays were to be staged. The senior section was to enact ‘Merchant of Venice’ and the junior section, ‘The Story of Rama’.
Not that I didn’t like my Uncle Varun. I was just a bit cross with him. Vanmkaka* that’s what I call him, is my father’s youngest cousin.
I jumped into the first coach of the train. My friends, Raman and Shyam, followed me into the compartment. I heaved a sigh of relief, when I saw they were safe. But the relief was shortlived.
Ponni sat on the footpath in front of Berywood Girls Primary School. She sold knick-knacks for little girls.
“You good for nothing fellow!” one slap. “You naughty boy!” another slap. “You rascal!” a shower of slaps. I could see stars dancing at midday!