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    Rudra Abhishek
    The document discusses a conversation between a teacher named Madhav and his mother. Madhav has been asked to give a speech in English to an important visitor but is worried because his English skills are poor. His mother laughs at his attempts to practice the speech but encourages him to find English classes in Patna to improve his skills before the event.

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    20

    Uploaded by

    Rudra Abhishek
    2 views3 pages
    The document discusses a conversation between a teacher named Madhav and his mother. Madhav has been asked to give a speech in English to an important visitor but is worried because his English skills are poor. His mother laughs at his attempts to practice the speech but encourages him to find English classes in Patna to improve his skills before the event.

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    The document discusses a conversation between a teacher named Madhav and his mother. Madhav has been asked to give a speech in English to an important visitor but is worried because his English skills are poor. His mother laughs at his attempts to practice the speech but encourages him to find English classes in Patna to improve his skills before the event.

    Copyright:

    © All Rights Reserved
    Download as PDF, TXT or read online from Scribd
    Download as pdf or txt
    2 views3 pages

    20

    Uploaded by

    Rudra Abhishek
    The document discusses a conversation between a teacher named Madhav and his mother. Madhav has been asked to give a speech in English to an important visitor but is worried because his English skills are poor. His mother laughs at his attempts to practice the speech but encourages him to find English classes in Patna to improve his skills before the event.

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    20

    'Speech?’ my mother said. 'In English? To goras? Have you gone


    mad?'
    ’The state of the school has driven me mad.’
    She sat up on her rickety chair, her eyebrows high. She rested her
    elbows on the table, her fingers entwined.
    ‘Whatever it is, it is my school, If you don’t like it, leave.’
    ‘Don’t be dramatic, Ma. I like it, so I'm doing all this.’
    ‘First, I have no idea who this Gates is or what he does to make so
    much money. Next, he is coming to my school with a paltan, Now you
    have to give a speech.’
    ‘He makes software,’
    ‘Soft wear? Like soft clothes? So much money from that?'
    ‘No, computer software. Like Windows,’
    ‘Windows. Gates. What is he? A furniture dealer?'
    ‘Forget it, Ma, I have to practise my English speech,’
    ‘Good luck,’
    She slid a stack of students' notebooks towards herself, She
    opened one and started to correct it.
    'I want you to help me.’
    She looked up,
    ‘How? I don't speak English. Barely understand it.’
    ‘Please let me know if I sound okay,’
    I stood up straight, I pretended I had a mic in my hand.
    ‘How will I know if you said it right?' Ma said, ‘Imagine yourself
    in the audience. See if I come across as confident and intelligent,'
    She giggled, l shushed her and began my speech. As I didn't know
    English well then, this is what I came up with.
    'Good morning, Mr Bill Gates, Miss Samantha and guests. I,
    Madhav, welcoming you all to the Bihar, My school doing excellent
    coaching of children, farmer’s children, poor children, small
    children...' I couldn't think of what to say next so I referred to various
    kinds of children, I continued, '...boy children, girl children, and many,
    many children,’
    I heard my mother snigger.
    ‘What?’ I said,
    ‘Who are all these children?’ if scratched my head.
    ‘Anyway,’ I continued.‘My school needing toilet as nobody able to
    toileting when toilet time corning,’
    My mother burst out laughing.
    ‘Now it’s toilet,' she said. I gave her a dirty look.
    ‘Please go on.,’ she said, enjoying herself. I threw up my hands in
    the air.
    ‘I’m useless. What have I taken on?’ I went into panic mode. I was
    going to turn myself into a joke.
    ‘Can you say no?’ my mother said.
    ‘I can. Maybe I should. Should I?’
    My mother shrugged. I sat down next to her.
    ‘I will tell them I can’t do it. They can take me off the grants
    programme.’
    'Quitting, eh?’ she said.
    ‘You laughed at me. Now you are calling me a quitter.’
    ‘I only laughed at your current speech. You can learn to give a
    better one.’
    ‘How?’
    ‘How much time do you have?’
    ‘Two months.’
    ‘So learn English’
    ‘I didn’t learn it properly in three years at St. Stephen’s. How can I
    do it in two months?’
    ‘We don’t quit, Madhav. It’s not in the Jha family’s genes.’
    ‘Meaning?’
    ‘Meaning we may lose everything, but we don’t quit. That’s what
    your uncles did, at the gambling table or in business. Being bankrupt is
    okay, but quitting is not.’
    ‘So what do I do?’
    ‘You work that out. I have to take a class.’
    My mother collected her notebooks and left.
    Half an hour later, I stomped into her classroom. The students
    looked up at me.
    ‘Don’t barge in when class is on.Wait outside,’ she said and shooed
    me out.
    She came out when the period ended.
    ‘I’m going for it,’ I said.
    ‘Good,’ my mother said. ‘But next time, knock.’
    ‘I want to join English classes. In Patna.’
    ‘Patna?’
    ‘There’s nothing good in Dumraon.’
    ‘That’s true. But how?’
    ‘I’ll commute. Weekdays here and Patna on the weekends. Is that
    okay?’
    ‘Where will you stay in Patna?’
    ‘I’ll find some place.’
    ‘We have relatives. Your chachi stays there. She is one weird
    woman, though.’
    ‘I'll find a guest house. Let me look for good classes there.’
    ‘Come here.’ My mother gave me a tight hug.
    ‘Just stay happy, all right?’ she said. ‘Do what you have to, but
    don’t be a grumpy man like your father.’
    ‘Thank you, Ma,’ I said.
    ‘Welcome, English boy.’

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