A small story on A little girl lived her grandparents
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Granny had somewhere secured yard-long sugarcane for the celebration, although it was not the season. She said, “No birthday is truly celebrated unless and until a sugarcane is seen in the house. It’s auspicious.” She strung mango leaves across the doorway, and decorated the threshold with coloured rice-powder. A neighbor passing down the road stopped to ask: “What’s the celebration? Shall we blow out the ovens in our houses and come for the feast in yours?”
“Yes, by all means. Most welcome,” said the old lady courteously, and added as if to neutralise the invitation, “You are always welcome.” She felt sorry at not being able to call in the neighbours, but that recluse grandson of hers had forbidden her to invite anyone.
Left to herself she would have engaged pipes and drums and processions, for this particular birthday was a thing she had been planning all along, this twentieth birthday when she would hand over the savings pass Book to her grandson and relinquish the trust.
It was an adventure accompanying Granny to the Fund Office, four doors off. She seemed to shrink in stature under an open sky-she who dominated the landscape under the roof of Number 14, lost her stature completely in the open. Sriram couldn’t help remarking, “You look like a baby, Granny.” Granny half-closed her eyes in the glare and whispered, “Hush! Don’t talk aloud, others may here.”
“Here what?”
“Whatever it may be. What happens behind one’s door must be known only to the folk concerned. Others had better shut up.”
As if confirming her worst suspicion, Kanni cried breezily from his shop, “Oh, grandmother and her pet on an outing! A fine sight! The young gentleman is shooting up, madam!”
Sriram felt proud of this compliment; he was seized with a feeling of towering height, and he pursed his lips in a determined manner. He gripped in his right hand the brown calico-bound pass-book presented to him with a somewhat dramatic gesture by his grandmother a moment ago.
“Oh, the young subedar is going to the right school with the right book,” Kanni remarked. “He must live to be as great as his father and grandfather put together
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Here is ur answer
Granny had somewhere secured yard-long sugarcane for the celebration, although it was not the season. She said, “No birthday is truly celebrated unless and until a sugarcane is seen in the house. It’s auspicious.” She strung mango leaves across the doorway, and decorated the threshold with coloured rice-powder. A neighbor passing down the road stopped to ask: “What’s the celebration? Shall we blow out the ovens in our houses and come for the feast in yours?”
“Yes, by all means. Most welcome,” said the old lady courteously, and added as if to neutralise the invitation, “You are always welcome.” She felt sorry at not being able to call in the neighbours, but that recluse grandson of hers had forbidden her to invite anyone.
Left to herself she would have engaged pipes and drums and processions, for this particular birthday was a thing she had been planning all along, this twentieth birthday when she would hand over the savings pass Book to her grandson and relinquish the trust.
It was an adventure accompanying Granny to the Fund Office, four doors off. She seemed to shrink in stature under an open sky-she who dominated the landscape under the roof of Number 14, lost her stature completely in the open. Sriram couldn’t help remarking, “You look like a baby, Granny.” Granny half-closed her eyes in the glare and whispered, “Hush! Don’t talk aloud, others may here.”
“Here what?”
“Whatever it may be. What happens behind one’s door must be known only to the folk concerned. Others had better shut up.”
As if confirming her worst suspicion, Kanni cried breezily from his shop, “Oh, grandmother and her pet on an outing! A fine sight! The young gentleman is shooting up, madam!”
Sriram felt proud of this compliment; he was seized with a feeling of towering height, and he pursed his lips in a determined manner. He gripped in his right hand the brown calico-bound pass-book presented to him with a somewhat dramatic gesture by his grandmother a moment ago.
“Oh, the young subedar is going to the right school with the right book,” Kanni remarked. “He must live to be as great as his father and grandfather put together
❤Hope uh liked it❤
❤Plz mark this as brainliest❤
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