The Turkish Cap ( 2nd Part )

"I am sorry, Sir," Khushal said promptly. "I
did not do it deliberately. It just happened. But, I am very sorry."
. "Is this your playground? Why don't you play
in your school compound?" the man shouted.
Brijpal went up to him. "Sir, we are sorry for
what happened. Our school compound is very small." "That is why we play here everyday," Bipin added.

"And this is how you play here, isn't it?" the man said wryly. "I'll go to your headmaster. Then
you will leam how to play and where to play."
Khushal and Brijpal pleaded. "Sir, please excuse us. We will be careful in future." The man did not appear to be satisfied. I thought I could save the situation. I picked up
his cap to hand it over to him. He snatched it from me. I could not remove the 'gulli from it.
Turning round, he started walking rapidly towards the school. All of us followed him, begging his pardon all the way. But he wpuld not listen. I stole a glance at my friends. They all looked mournful. I too was scared of the headmaster's temper.
The man entered the school building, and went straight to the headmaster's office. The peon outside
tried to stop him. He just brushed him aside and went in. We could hear loud voices coming from within. All of us were praying silently. We had crept to the courtyard facing the headmaster's
room. We tried guessing the conversation they were having and the consequences. Soon the

peon came and called us. One by one we entered the headmaster's room. "Who is responsible for all this?" he asked in a thundering voice.
 "How many times have I told
you to keep within the school compound?" We looked at one another. No one could say a
word. The headmaster raised his voice, "Are all of you dumb? Why don't you speak up?"
I made bold to reply, "Sir, we are sorry. We
shall be careful in future." The headmaster merely said, "Apologise to this
gentleman, all of you." "We have been begging his pardon, Sir," it
was Brijpal. "You must apologise in my presence," the
headmaster insisted. We chorused, "We are very sorry, Sir."
"O.K. boys," the man said and turned towards
the headmaster. "And thank you, Sir." He looked
satisfied, and moved towards the door.
Just as he was going out and we were about to leave, the headmaster asked, "Now, whose stroke was it?" I looked towards Khushal. He was looking at me. I looked round. My heart was beating faster

and faster. But how could I blame my friend?
With a sinking feeling, I decided I would take the blame. A faint smile played on the headmaster's
face. Somehow I felt it was not for any punishment that the question was asked. I opened my
mouth to reply. But Khushal was quicker. "Sir, it was my stroke. I am very sorry." "What a stroke!" the headmaster exclaimed.
"You strike the 'gulli', hit a man's cap, make it
fall, and then land the 'gulli' inside it! A master player, no doubt!" I could not suppress my laughter. But I could not laugh in the headmaster's presence, either.
So, I checked myself and with some difficulty managed a wide smile. When I looked round,
the others were also trying to suppress their laughter.
We were eager to go out and have a hearty laugh. The man with the turkish cap also turned round at the door. He too looked amused. Still smiling he went away. We trooped out of the room. Then we let ourselves go.

The Turkish Cap ( 1st Part )

The school bell rang. Recess at last! We rushed
out of the classroom. I took the 'gulli ° out of my satchel before I ran out.
Khushal took the ' c l a n d a a n d followed me. Panna, Raghubir,
Brijpal, Prakash, Kaushal, Bishen, Nityanand,
all dashed out, followed by others. We reached
the ground outside our school compound where we usually played.
Prakash drew a big circle. Khushal entered it.
It was his turn to begin the game. He placed the
'gulli' in the centre of the circle, and took the
'danda to strike the gulli. The others took their
positions round the circle. Everybody's eyes were
on Khushal. He struck the 'gulli' hard. It flew out
of the circle and went quite far. None of us could catch it.
Nityanand was the first to reach the 'gulli'.
Picking it up, he threw it back with all his strength.
Khushal struck hard again. It went flying in another direction.
Bishen was fielding that side. He tried to catch
"Short stick used in the game of tip-cat (gullidanda).
" S t i c k used in the same game.

it but it slipped through his fingers. He picked it
up and threw it back towards Khushal. Khushal
once again hit it back. It was my turn next. But the way Khushal was
hitting I felt my turn would never come. I would
have to wait till the next day. I was hoping Khushal
would miss just once. Then I would be able
to start. But Khushal was proving too good a player for us.
Then Panna threw the 'gulli to Khushal. It did
not even reach the circle. Khushal struck it forcefully
towards Brijpal. Brijpal could not catch it
either. It should have been an easy catch. I cursed
him for missing it. Brijpal was also sorry foi
the slip. But what could he do now? He flung the
gulli back with a vengeance. Khushal didn't miss this time either.
The 'gulli was now flying towards me. I was
ready to catch it. But it never came!
All of a sudden there was a lot of noise. A man
in kurtci* pyjama was standing in the middle of
the play field. His turkish cap was lying on the
ground, upside down. The 'gulli seemed to have
hit the cap on its way to me. The wonder of it
all was that the 'gulli' had landed inside the cap.
The man was furious. "You naughty boys! See,
what you have done. I will teach you a lesson," he shouted.
"Long loose shirt worn with pyjamas.

The Triumphant Smile - Beautiful short story

Humayun lay in a coma. His father Babar stood
beside his bed, sad and worried. The Chief
Vizier and the nobles crowded behind him. The
queen with tears in her eyes begged of the
emperor, "Save Humayun's life, my Lord". In
between sobs she said again, "Save my son from the clutches of death."
Babar stood aghast and moaned in grief. "O
God, how helpless am I! I can't even save my son.
I can't save my own flesh, my own blood...."
The palace herald announced, "Here comes Shahi Hakim."*
The Hakim entered the room and offered his
respects to the emperor. Babar knelt before him
pleading, "O life-giver! Save my child." The
Hakim was taken aback and bent down to raise
the Emperor to his feet. "O my Lord," he said,
"I'm just an ordinary servant of yours. I promise I
won't leave any stone unturned. But to grant life
is in God's hands. Have faith in Him. He is Rahim.
He is Karim, the kind and the merciful. Beg His "Royal physician.

mercy, Sir. I can only examine the patient and diagnose the illness."
The Hakim felt Humayun's pulse. Then he examined
the closed eyelids. He tried to open his
mouth too, but it was shut tight. The Hakim unbuttoned
Humayun's shirt and applied a strongsmelling
balm to his chest. The prince slowly
opened his eyes and mouth too, but did not show recognition.
"Asalam walekumPrince," the Hakim
greeted him. But there was no reply. "Asalam
ivalekum," he repeated. "Look at me Prince. Look
at your father. Don't you recognise your mother
sitting by your side?"
There was still no response. Humayun's vacant
looks were fixed on the ceiling. The queen
took Humayun in her arms and moaned.
"O Humayun, my son, won't you call me
Anuria* * anymore? Here, here look at your
Abba* * * Say something my son, say a few words!"
But Humayun didn't utter a sound. Babar stood
dazed beside the Hakim, while the queen's heartrending
cries continued to fill the room.
The Hakim opened another bottle and poured
a few drops of nectar into Humayun's parted lips.
But the drops flowed out. The Hakim mumbled,
"God bless you (Muslim greeting).
"He has not accepted the medicine. I'm sure his
throat is swollen and clogged." He took a piece
of paper and wrote down the names of some medicines.
"Here my Lord! I can only prescribe these
potions for the patient. Kindly try them. Howal
shaft'•!* May God cure him," said the Hakim.
He handed the slip to the Emperor and left
the palace in dismay. Babar passed the prescription on to the Chief
Vizier. Meanwhile, one of the court priests had
entered the chamber. He bowed low and said,
"My Lord! Kindly offer to God whatever you love
most. I am sure God will be kind enough to give
Humayun a new lease of life."
"Should I renounce my wealth and my kingdom?" asked Babar.
"That's up to you, my Lord. You should offer
what you love most," the priest replied.
"What do I love most?" the Emperor muttered.
"Only you can answer that my Lord."
"Dearest to my heart is Humayun," Babar replied.
"Surely, to save the Prince, Your Majesty would
not hesitate to offer something equally dear to
Allah?" urged the priest. "Ah! It is my own life that I love most," said
Babar with a triumphant smile.
°God bless you with good health.
"Allah-O-AkbarIn the presence of all nobles
and courtiers of my empire, I, Zaheerud-Din
Babar, do hereby offer my own life to God Almighty
to save Humayun my dearest son. Let his
malady strike me. Let Humayun recover. May I
die and may Humayun live for ever and ever."
As soon as he had finished speaking Babar sat
down on the mat to offer prayers to the Lord.
The anguished queen flung herself at Babar's
feet and cried, "No, no, my Lord. You cannot die.
Let the Almighty take my life. Humayun must
live under your patronage." "No, Begum.0 My pledge to the Almighty
must hold good. I must defeat death. I have lived
a hero's life. Let me die a hero's death for Humayun,"
muttered Babar as he lay down on the mat
feeling faint and dizzy from the pain in his chest.
"Allah-O-Akbar," whispered Babar again with
the same triumphant smile on his lips, as his eyes closed.
At the same time Humayun regained consciousness
and opened his eyes.
"Allah is the Greatest.
"Woman of noble rank.

To The Memory Of A Lion - 4th Part

Udai Singh's sons joined in the battle and the
mahout sent Chandrawati charging into the
fray. The Marathas fought bravely. The casualties
were heavy. Among the first to perish were
Udai Singh's three sons and Chandrawati, the
elephant. Tanaji went looking for Udai Singh.
Udai Singh had by then heard of his sons
deaths. He rushed into the melee. "Tanaji,
you have a lot to answer for. You can't escape me."
"That we'll see," cried Tanaji. With drawn swords, they closed in.
Both were brilliant swordsmen. The battle
raged fiercely round them. The attackers had got
the better of the defenders. In a strategic move,
a section of the Maratha soldiers had thrown open Kalyan Gate.
Tanaji and Udai Singh were locked in a life and death struggle.
Both were tired and bleeding profusely. Udai "Elephant-driver.

Singh made a gallant effort and plunged his
sword into Tanaji's chest. Tanaji stumbled and
fell. Quite unexpectedly he sprang up and inflicted
a mortal wound on a triumphant Udai Singh.
He fell dead. Tanaji, too collapsed and died.
All was quiet when Suryaji entered the fort.
He rushed around, looking for Tanaji. He found
him lying in a pool of blood. He knelt to feel his pulse.
He looked aghast at his dead friend. His grief
soon turned into anger. "We must complete your
task", he muttered, drawing his sword.
The Marathas, infuriated by Tanaji's death,
fell on their foes like tigers. Udai Singh's death
had taken the fight out of the Mughals. After a
brief struggle, the Marathas won the battle.
Kondana fort was once again in their hands.
Suryaji returned to Raigarh fort to inform
Shivaji of their victory. He was anxiously waiting for them.
"Raje, the fort is taken," said Suryaji.
"Good. But where is Tanaji?"
Suryaji hung his head and remained silent.
"Speak, Suryaji!" cried Shivaji shaking him by
his shoulders. "What has happened to him?"
"He is dead!" Suryaji said in a broken voice.
Shivaji's face went pale as he mumbled, "The
fort is won, but my lion is gone." He turned and
walked to the window.

He stood there looking out.
A memorial to Tanaji stands on the spot where
he fell. It is called 'Sivnha Garh

"The lion's fort.

To The Memory Of A Lion - 3rd Part

Soon everything was ready. Tanaji called his friends, and announced, "Tonight we attack. It is a moonless night and nothing will be visible.
All of you must be absolutely silent as you approach Kondana fort. I will take the iguana Yashwanti.
With her help, we will scale the rock." Then he turned to Suryaji. "You are to take the
rest of the men and wait at Kalyan Gate. We will throw it open for you."

Last minute preparations over, they marched to the fort quietly as shadows. In a short while
they reached the foot of the precipice. Tanaji tied a rope to Yashwanti's neck. Then he threw her
up hard, so she could clutch the wall. But the iguana lost her grip and slithered down.
"Shivaji's family diety. "Oh, it is a sign of bad luck!" exclaimed one of the soldiers.
Tanaji whirled round, "Who said that? There is no place for superstition in a soldier's life. He
must only have faith, in himself and in God." Tanaji once again hurled the iguana up with
greater force. This time Yashwanti gripped the top of the fort wall. Tanaji breathed a sigh of
relief.
"Hand me the bag containing the ropes," said Tanaji. A soldier gave it to him and he slung it
on his back.
"I go up first. I will tie the ropes to the projections
on the wall and let them down. With their help you can all climb up. Remember not a
sound." Tanaji held the rOpe tight and climbed up and up till he reached the ramparts. The soldiers
followed him. Within minutes they were at the top.
Tanaji whispered, "There must be a number of guards posted on the ramparts.
 Take them unawares and silence them. They should not be
allowed to sound the alarm. We'll get down and attack the soldiers inside the fort. Let's go." The men stonned the fort and overpowered the guards in no time. Shouting 'Jai Bhatoani', they rushed into the fort. The Mughal soldiers offered stiff resistance and a fierce hand to hand fight ensued.

One of the Mughal soldiers quietly slipped out and rushed to inform Udai Singh.
"The Marathas have entered my fort? But how?" cried Udai Singh.
He sprang from his bed and hurried to the next apartment. "Wake up, my sons. Tell the
mahout* to get Chandrawati. She'll crush the Marathas in no time."

To The Memory Of A Lion - 2nd Part

Tanaji buckled his sword and stepped out of
the room. He ordered his men to be ready to accompany
him. The news spread and soon the
soldiers assembled outside his house.
After his wife had applied 'tilak' on his forehead
and performed the 'arti\ Tanaji took leave of her.
Leading an army of horsemen, he rode fast to
reach Raigarh fort. Tanaji walked straight into
Shivaji's room and found him sitting in a pensive mood.
"Raje, I'm here at your service," said Tanaji bowing.

"Oh! my Sivnha has come!" exclaimed Shivaji.
He embraced Tanaji and said, "Come, sit down.
We have a difficult assignment. Ma Sahib* feels
that the other forts are not safe so long as we
do not recapture Kondana fort.
"Udai Singh Rathor is in command of the
Mughal forces. His men are guarding the three
gates. His sons are also with him. All of them are
brave fighters. There is also the killer elephant
Chandrawati. She is a force by herself. I have
thought and thought, but can't find a way of capturing
the fort. You are the only one who may
be able to find a way."
The lines deepened on Tanaji's brow. Then
he spoke. "I have a plan. The fort is guarded only
on three sides. We will try to enter from the west."
"What?" Shivaji sprang up. "Enter from the
west? You're not planning to climb that precipice?
It is unassailable."
Tanaji said coolly — "No, Raje, it is not the
way I intend doing it." He then explained his plan
to Shivaji in detail.
"It is a daring plan," said Shivaji anxiously.
"Very difficult to execute. Everything depends on
just one thing."
"Yes, it is difficult, Raje, but not impossible.
4 Queen Mother.

We will prepare well and we will succeed."
Tanaji sounded confident.
"Very well, go ahead with your preparations.
May Goddess Bhawani* bless you."
Tanaji bowed to Shivaji and left. He called
Suryaji and some of his personal friends who were
waiting in the adjoining room. He swore them to
secrecy and then told them of the plan.
"We begin preparing at once. Drill the soldiers,
perfect them in the use of arms, but do not tell
them for what. We have to take the enemy by
surprise.'

To The Memory Of A Lion - 1st Part

Tanaji Malusare was Shivaji's childhood friend
and companion at arms. He was very brave and
daring. Shivaji proudly called him his Sivnha or
Lion. Tanaji had planned and fought many a battle
by the side of his leader. They were determined
to free their land from Mughal domination.

Tanaji lived in the small town of Umratha. One
morning, Umratha wore a festive look. Colourful
bunting fluttered in the streets. There was a
Mangal Kolas* at every door. Tanaji's son was
to be married that day. People went in and out
of his house, busy running errands.
Just then a messenger came galloping down the
street. "Look!" cried a man who had noticed him
in the distance. "What news can he be bringing?"
he asked Tanaji's servant who was near him. Before
the servant could reply, the rider came to a
stop in front of them. He leapt off his horse and
said, "Where is Tanaji? I must see him at once."
"In the house Sir," answered the servant. He
had recognised the rider. "I'll take you to him."
"Sire," the servant called out.
"Pots decorated with mango leaves and a coconut.

Tanaji and his wife were busy selecting and
packing clothes and ornaments for the bride and
the groom.
"Who is there?" he asked.
"Suryaji," replied the servant.
Tanaji put aside the jewel-case he was holding
and stepped forward. "Come in, Suryaji".
Suryaji entered and bowed to Tanaji and his
wife.
"Welcome, my friend. What brings you
here?" he asked. His wife, too, stopped inspecting
the sari she had in her hand.
"Ka/e* wants you at Raigarh immediately," replied
Suryaji.
Tanaji knew at once that it was something
serious. He turned swiftly to his wife and put his
hand affectionately on her shoulder. "My dear,"
he said, "you know I have to go. Postpone the
wedding. My first duty is to my leader and my
land. Come, smile and bid me farewell. Do not
wony. Suryaji and my men will be with me."
Tanaji's wife was stunned. She held back her
tears.
"Please wait," she said and went in to prepare
the ' t i l a k a n d 'arti'*** for the farewell.
"His Majesty.
s 3Vermillion mark on forehead.
co "moving a lighted lamp round a soldier before he goes to
battle.

When Papa Scolded Me - 3rd Part

I ignored everybody. This was the most fascinating
game for me at the moment.
TIow fantastic! I press — the light is on, I push
— the light goes off', I muttered.
The patient, obviously, had some serious problem.
My father sat with four books open in front
of him. My running around had certainly disturbed
him. Completely exasperated, he put down his
pen and spectacles and shouted at me, "You're not
listening to me. GET DOWN FROM THERE!"
His loud voice broke my trance. I gaped
at him wide-eyed. He fixed his gaze on me, expecting
to be obeyed instantly. I was shocked at
being scolded so loudly by him — scolded by
Papa. Papa, a very soft spoken person, who was
known never to raise his voice, had SHOUTED
in anger at his darling daughter. I was very angry
with him.
I jumped down from the table with a loud thud
and raced up and down the balcony. My breath
quickened, my face went red with anger, and my
eyes felt hot with unshed tears. Throwing my
hands about, I raced up and down wanting to

destroy everything that came in my way.
Hearing the commotion Bhaiya came out.
"What is it?" he asked. My fury found a ready
victim and I ran towards him and pushed him. I
felt like bursting into tears. I rushed and pulled
at the curtain in Papa's room, which came down
with the force. I saw Papa talking to the patient
with his usual patience.
How unthoughtful of him! He is not a bit
bothered about my being so angry with him. 1
was fuming all the more.
I went back into the room, stamping my feet
noisily in anger. Standing close to Papa, I raged
vehemently, "Why couldn't you say it softly?
Why did you speak so loudly to me?"
The next moment I came out on the balcony
and stood beside the money-plant pot. My eyes
were now full of tears. I plucked a leaf and shredded
it to pieces. The sound of a chair being pushed
in Papa's room reached my ears and then I heard
his footsteps coming closer to me. I tried to run
away in annoyance, but Papa caught me. He pulled
my face towards his and picked me up. Tears
came rolling down my plump cheeks. He patted
my head lovingly and wiped my tears.
"Oh, you big cat!" said Papa, ruffling my hair.
This affectionate gesture melted my wrath. A
moment later I was once again happy playing
round the house.

When Papa Scolded Me - 2nd Part

Racing back to the window of Papa's room, I saw him still busy with the patient. I loved to see
him there before me, while I played. 'He must be liking it, too,' I thought, 'to see me play around in his room.' I dragged a chair and climbed onto the table.

This at last drew Papa's attention. "Baby, be careful, you'll fall down," he said tenderly.
"Look, Papa, I am taller than everyone," I grinned from ear to ear making my eyes disappear.
All one could see was a set of white teeth and chubby cheeks.
Both Mr. Singh and Papa smiled. Papa did not look convinced. So I said again raising my hands
above my head. "Papa I'm a big girl, now." He nodded with a smile and continued talking
to the patient. I touched all that I could reach with my hands till I got to the black switch. 'No, you should not touch it.' I was imagining what my mother would have said.

'If you touch it, you'll get hurt,' Bhaiya had told me once. This was a 'forbidden' article for
me, but how attractive it looked — black against the light blue wall. Unable to resist the temptation
to touch it, I pressed the switch and the light came on. I immediately switched it off. I was scared, I looked at Papa with large anxious eyes, but he was busy writing. He did not see me. I
looked at Papa again and then at the switch which begged my hands to touch it again.
'I'll do it just once more, okay?' I said softly to myself. I repeated the mischief once more and
was unable to stop myself from doing it again and again. I seemed to have disturbed Papa who was

concentrating on the patient's problem. Without looking up from the book, he said in a serious
voice, "Don't do that, you might get a shock." The klick-klack of the switch and the glowing
bulb fascinated me, "Baby, come here, let Papa do his work," called my brother.

When Papa Scolded Me - 1st Part

"Baby, come for breakfast. Your milk is getting
cold," called Bhaiya, my elder brother.
I quickly put on my slippers, picked up my
favourite doll, Beeta, and rushed out into the
verandah. It was a beautiful day. The morning
air was most refreshing. "Ah, how lovely!" I said
aloud, taking a deep breath. I ran across the
verandah, with Beeta tucked under my arm.
While I gulped down the milk, I heard Papa
calling out to the driver.
"Papa is still here, Bhaiya. He hasn't gone to
the clinic, today," I said overwhelmed with joy.
Being engrossed in a magazine, Bhaiya did
not reply, but I could see Papa talking to someone
in his room, which was opposite the dining hall
facing the verandah.
"Papa! Papa! I don't have to go to school, it's a
holiday. Do you have a holiday, too? Look, Beeta
has got fever," I said, all in one breath.
"No, my dear child, I don't have a holiday today.
You go and play while I talk to Mr. Singh.
He is very ill. I'll ask the compounder to give
your doll some medicine," Papa said lovingly.

It was quite unusual to find my father at home
at that time. Normally he was in his clinic before
I woke up. So I was very happy. My father wiped
his spectacles with the kerchief as he listened to
his patient carefully.
I was on the balcony when I heard, "Baby!
Baby! Come here, see this." It was my brother
from the verandah. He had spread himself on an
easy chair and our dog, Tom, was dancing round
on his hind legs. I burst out laughing.
"Papa will give medicine to Beeta," I said,
showing off.
"And I'll ask Papa to give some medicine to his
darling daughter, because. . . .because she laughs
and laughs," said Bhaiya, tickling me and sending
me into fits of laughter. Being the youngest child
in the family I received everyone's attention and
affection. Papa of course, was the most
affectionate.
I ran from one end of the verandah to the other
and then onto the balcony, staying close to Papa's
room to attract his attention while I played. I
swung on the curtain, thumped on the door, tapped
on the table, pulled and pushed the chair.
"Look, Bhaiya, what a variety of sounds they
make," I said, pulling the chair, then leaping up
and rapping on the door, clapping my hands,
jumping all the while.
"Don't," pleaded Bhaiya, not taking his eyes off
the book in his hand.

Man Overboard 4th Part

When he turned away, I quietly sneaked into the hospital room to see what they were doing to
the patient. Two nurses were scurrying to and fro with trays full of medicines and syringes. Another
was rushing off with Uncle's wet clothes. I stopped her and asked if Uncle was conscious. "Not
yet," she replied, "but he's better now. He should regain consciousness in a little while."
The ship was still rolling, so I couldn't play any games. I went and sat in a cosy chair in the lounge
and started reading a story-book. I was feeling drowsy and must have dozed off. The next tiling
I knew was somebody saying, "Wake up, child.
You're Vasantha, aren't you? The Captain wants to see you in his cabin."
I looked up to see a sailor standing before me. It took me a minute to recollect the rescue operation
and the captain telling me, "I'll call you afterwards." I followed the officer eagerly. He left me outside
the captain's door, saying, "Go right inside." I knocked and entered. The captain was standing
in the middle of the room. When he saw me, he came forward and literally swept me off my
feet. He was still smiling when he put me down.

"You will have plenty to tell your friends, eh? Now close your eyes." I did so. Seconds later, I heard him say, "See what I've got for you." On opening my eyes, I saw a big brown box.
On it was written: "WITH THE BEST COMPLIMENTS OF
CAPT. LINDSAY."
I took the box and eagerly opened it. "Oh, what a lovely ship!" I exclaimed. "Does this really
belong to me? Can I keep it?" Lying snugly on a velvet backing was a most
beautiful model of the ship. On it was inscribed "B.I.S.N. & Co. S.S. RAJULA." I placed the box
carefully on the table. Then I threw my hands round the captain and hugged and kissed him.
He patted my cheek and smiled as he saw me lift the box and walk happily out of his room. I
proudly showed my present to everyone I met.
"See what the Captain has given me. Isn't it lovely?" "Yes, indeed," was the unanimous verdict.
I was the happiest person on board that day.

Man Overboard 3rd Part

"I am sorry, my dear. The sea is very rough
today. I hope my men can reach him in time. My
ship has never lost a passenger before," he said
crossing himself. He was watching the rescue
operations through a pair of binoculars that hung
round his neck.
The boat was too far for me to see what was
happening. I tugged at the Captain's sleeve.
"What are they doing, Sir? Have they rescued
the man?" I asked him.
"They've caught him by the arms and are pulling
him towards the boat." He was giving me a
running commentary. "Oh what bad luck! A sudden
current has swept the man away dragging
two of the sailors with him." He sounded nervous.
Just then he noticed the passengers crowding
against the railings. "Keep away from those railings!"
he shouted. "We don't want another
accident." The ship had dropped anchor but was
heaving up and down.
I borrowed the captain's binoculars. Now I
could see the rescue operation clearly. The crew
in the rescue boats threw a strong rope to the two
sailors in the sea and shouted, "Catch". Both of
them were good swimmers and soon had caught
hold of the rope. Then, with powerful strokes, they
swam towards Uncle. One of them caught hold

of him, while the other tied the rope round his
waist. With Uncle between them and the rope
secure, the sailors swam back to the life-boats. The
rescue team in the boats leaned over and heaved
the three men into it. In a jiffy the boats were
heading back to the ship.
"Thank God!" muttered the captain making the
sign of the cross again, "They've managed to save
him." He turned to the passengers thronging the
railings. "Please do not crowd round the man
when he is brought up. He will need immediate
medical care." Then he saw the ship's doctor standing
with a couple of nurses. A stretcher was also
being brought close to the railings.
"Doctor! Is everything ready for the patient?"
the captain asked.
"Aye, aye, Captain," nodded the doctor.
The captain moved away to restore order on
the ship. I edged close to the doctor and asked,
"What will you do to him, doctor? Will he be all
right?"
"Aye, I think so. All the water will have to be
pumped out of him. He'll have to be given artificial
respiration and kept warm."
"How do you pump the water out?" I asked.
"We put him on his stomach and massage him
until he brings it all up," he replied.
As soon as the rescue team reached the ship,
Uncle was placed on the stretcher and rushed to
the hospital room. The captain then came to me
and said, "Run along now and play with your
friends. I'm busy, but will send for you when I'm
through. I might even have a surprise for you."

Man Overboard 2nd Part

This made my imagination run wild. Turning to 'Uncle' again, I said, "Wouldn't it be fun if the
storm broke when we have lunch? Then the tables, with all the food on them, would run away
from us. And the chairs, with us sitting on them, ould be a merry-go-round."
Everyone round the table stared at me in horror.
I thought to myself, 'Oh, these adults, they've no sense of adventure. How dull they are!'
The storm didn't break, but in the evening a strong wind started blowing. The ship rocked to
and fro, rocking and rolling to the music of the wind. Huge waves were dashing against it. Even
though the deck was slippery, I was running around. That's when I noticed Uncle leaning over
the railings. I ran up to him, thinking he too, was enjoying the experience. "Good morning,
Uncle, isn't it lovely?" I asked him.
But he wasn't well at all. He was retching over the rails and looked rather blue about the mouth.
I felt sorry for him. "Can I be of any help? Shall call the doctor?' I asked him.
He couldn't reply, but only held up his hand.
As another bout of retching shook him he leaned over the railings. At the same time a huge wave
lashed the ship. It lurched violently and the man tumbled over the railings into the wild sea. For
a second I stood rooted to the spot. Then I ran like someone possessed, shouting, "Help! Help!
Man overboard! Save him!" I must have made a lot of noise. I heard footsteps hurrying even that
early in the morning. Tears streaming down my face and shouting
incoherently, I ran full pelt into an officer. "What's the matter? Why are you making so
much noise?" he asked in a stern voice, I was surprised to see it was the captain.
"Oh Sir!" I blurted out in relief. "A man fell into the sea. Please save him."
"Where?" he asked, immediately on the alert. "There," I said pointing a finger.
He did not wait for more details but ran at once to a room full of officers. "Man overboard,"
he cried. "Stop ship. Drop anchor. Quick!" His
instructions were immediately obeyed. The captain then raced to the upper deck. I kept trailing
behind him. "Lower the life-boats and crew into the sea towards the helm," he said. "There is a
man overboard." Here again the men quickly obeyed him.
People started crowding the deck. "What's
happening?" somebody asked me.
Word soon went round. Everyone was tense. Only an occasional, "There he is!" could be heard.
Someone asked, "Who is he?" Another replied, "Don't know."
Meanwhile two life-boats moved towards the man. I stood close to the captain. In his anxiety,
he gripped my shoulder tightly and I winced. "You're hurting me Sir," I protested.

Man Overboard 1st Part

I stood on the deck of S.S. Rajula. As she
slowly moved out of Madras harbour, I waved to
my grandparents till I could see them no more.
I was thrilled to be on board a ship. It was a new
experience for me.

"Are you travelling alone?" asked the person
standing next to me.
"Yes, Uncle, I'm going back to my parents in
Singapore," I replied.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"Vasantha," I replied.

I spent the day exploring the ship. It looked
just like a big house. There were furnished rooms,
a swimming pool, a room for indoor games, and
a library. Yet, there was plenty of room to 11111 around.

The next morning the passengers were seated
in the dining hall, having breakfast. The loudspeaker
spluttered noisily and then the captain's
voice came loud and clear. "Friends we have just
received a message that a storm is brewing in the
Indian Ocean. I request all of you to keep calm.
Do not panic. Those who are inclined to sea-
sickness may please stay in their cabins. Thank

you."

There was panic everywhere. An old lady prayed

aloud, "Oh God! Have mercy on us. My only
son is waiting for me in Singapore."
A gentleman consoled her, "Don't worry,
Madam, it's only a warning. We may not be
affected at all."
Another lady, who was sitting beside me, looked
very ill. "Not rough weather! I'm already seasick.

A rough sea will be the end of me!"
I could not understand why all the elders were
so upset. I remembered the several sea adventures
I had read. Excitedly, I turned to the elderly
gentleman sitting next to me. "Uncle, won't it
be thrilling to face a storm on board a steamer?
Have you ever been on a ship during a storm?"
"It can be quite unpleasant, you know," he replied
rather severely. "I remember a time when
the ship on which I was travelling ran off course.
We were wandering on the ocean for a couple of
days."

I remembered my class teacher, an English woman,
telling us in class one day, "When I crossed
the English Channel on my way to Singapore,
there was a big storm near Gibraltar. The ship
rocked to and fro. Everything in the cabins rolled
up and down. Even the heavy pianos in the
lounge went crashing against the walls."
 

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