Page 75 - Lavender-B-5
P. 75

Let’s read and find out why it is important to have a home.

          Every evening, after dusk, the white neon lights would illuminate the street. I would sit
          by the window of our rented house and gaze across the road.


          The new apartment, Minto Towers, was being built brick by brick. Our new home. Our
          own address. I was so excited. Mummy had promised I would get a room all to myself.
          There would be a patio where I could display my dolls. I would fill up the walls with
          posters of pop stars and tennis heroes. I would set up my computer on a table. I would
          use the internet to chat with my friends, especially Rinky and Bunty. I would stack

          away the letters from my foreign pen pal, Mark, in the drawer. He loved swimming,
                                                    horse-riding and skiing. I loved tennis, basketball
                                                     and making new friends across the nation and

                                                      the seas. There was so much to learn, even more
                                                       to share.

                                                        One of my close friends was Sumita. She was
                                                         tall, dark and frail and about my age. She had
                                                           dark, shiny eyes and was very intelligent.

                                                             Sometimes, on my way back from school, as

                                                                I got off the school bus, I would drop into
                                                                 her home. She lived inside the skeleton
                                                                 of Minto Tower. A tin shed across the

                                                                red brick wall was her makeshift home.
                                                              Sumita was the head labourer’s daughter.
                                                           Her mother carried the bricks that were being
                                                     used to build my house.


          Sumita wore a tattered yellow skirt. She                 gaze: to look at something for a long time
          walked barefeet upon the debris. Today she               patio: an area outside a house with a solid floor but
          had invited me for the umpteenth time. It                no roof
                                                                   stack: a pile of things arranged one on top of
          was her doll, Priya’s birthday. Priya did not            another
          have one limb. She had even lost an eye. She             pen pal: someone from another country with whom
                                                                   you exchange letters as a hobby
          was dressed in rags. Sumita loved her.                   skiing: the activity or sport of moving on skis
                                                                   frail: weak or unhealthy
          After a day’s labour, Sumita’s mother had                skeleton: the basic structure
          brought her a few sweets. Sumita offered the             makeshift home: a temporary home of low quality
          sweets to me on a tin plate.                             labourer: a person whose job involves a lot of hard
                                                                   physical work
                                                                   tattered: badly torn
          ‘Oh, what gift can I present your doll?’                 debris: broken or torn pieces of something larger
          I asked Sumita.                                          umpteenth: numerous
                                                                   rags: clothes that are old and torn

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