Here is a story about Swami and his grandmother. After reading
the excerpt, change it into a conversation between Swami and his
After the night meal with his head on his granny's lap, nestling
close to her, Swaminathan felt very snug and safe in the faint
atmosphere of cardamom and cloves.
'Oh, Granny!' he cried ecstatically. 'You don't know what a great
fellow Rajam is.' He told her the story of the first enmity
between Rajam and Mani and the subsequent friendship.
'You know, he has a real police dress,' said Swaminathan.
'Is it? What does he want a police dress for?' asked Granny.
'His father is the Police Superintendent. He is the master of
every policeman here.'
Granny was impressed. She said that it must be a tremendous
office indeed. She then recounted the days when her husband,
Swaminathan's grandfather, was a powerful sub-magistrate, in
which office he made the police force tremble before him and the
fiercest dacoits of the place flee. Swaminathan waited
impatiently for her to finish the story. But she went on,
rambled, confused, mixed up various incidents that took place at
different times. 'That will do, Granny,' he saidungraciously.
'Let me tell you something about Rajam. Do you know how many
marks he gets in arithmetic?'
'He gets all the marks, does he, child?' asked Granny.
'No silly. He gets ninety marks out of one hundred.'
'Good. But you must also try and get marks like him. You know,
Swami, your grandfather used to frighten the examiners with his
answers sometimes. When he answered a question, he did it in a
tenth of the time that others took to do it. And then, his
answers would be so powerful that his teachers would give him two
hundred marks sometimes.
'Oh, enough, Granny! You go on bothering about old unnecessary
stories. Won't you listen to Rajam?'
'Yes, dear, yes.'
'Granny, when Rajam was a small boy, he killed a tiger.'
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