(
LOGIN to comment on this article.
)
Big Write Winners for November
30 Nov 2015
This month Year 5's Big Write was to rewrite
the story of Shravan Kumar and his Wife
(one of the stories from Madhur Jaffrey's
book of short stories 'Seasons of Splendour').
All the stories were of a very high standard indeeed, which made the job of selecting just two winners almost impossible!
Here are our winners, who will receive
certificates in assembly ... but everyone will be
rewarded for their impressive writing!
The Story of Shravan Kumar
(from the viewpoint of Shravan Kumar)
A few years ago something happened to me that I would not want to happen to anyone else. It was a scorching day where I lived on the desert's edge. I was an upright young man, as my wife always tells me.
Dinner was always lovely for me and my parents. However, one day my parents called my name.
They called, "Son!"
I wondered why they were calling me. I thought it was extremely important so I rushed down the stairs.
As they trembled they whispered, "We have a complaint. We are happy to have sour pudding every night, however we are getting quite bored. Can we have something else?"
That night at 6:45 I swapped my dish for my father's and got a horrific surprise.
"Ugh!" I yelled. That was the moment I realised that my wife had two pots in the kitchen. (One to cook sweet puddings for her and me. The other to cook sour pudding for my parents.) I called her in.
"Wife! What you have been doing is wrong. DON'T GIVE ME THAT LOOK! From now on our puddings should be cooked in the same pot. So go to the bin and throw away one pot!"
She replied to me, saying, "Yes, I will start tomorrow."
After I'd told my wife off I felt better. I thought to myself that she would listen to me this time.
A few weeks later once again my parents called out, "Son!"
I was really worried now. At my fastest speed I ran down the stairs.
My parents told me again, "Sorry to say this, however we have a complaint. Sour pudding is okay but please can we have something different?"
Now my body was full with rage. My wife must have made one pot with two stomachs (so she could continue cooking sweet puddings on one side and sour puddings on the other). She had not listened to me.
Once again at 6:45 I swapped my dish for my father's. This time it was even more horrific than before. This was the most angry I had been.
"WIFE! What are you doing wrong? Tell me. DON'T DO IT AGAIN!"
My wife's head drooped in sorrow.
One day I had an incredible idea to go out on a pilgrimmage to get some fresh air. I made a carrier for my parents out of a long stick of wood and two baskets. I attached the two baskets to both ends of the stick for my parents to sit in. I was the one to carry them both.
My wife asked me if she could come. I told her she'd better not so she stayed home.
We set out first thing in the morning, so we could arrive before 12 when it wouldn't be so hot.
We stopped near a river. My parents asked me if I could get them a drink of water so I set out on about a half mile walk to fetch their water.
On the way to the river I felt a bit thirsty myself so I tried to walk a little faster. When I finally reached the river, I sat down beside it. As I was reaching down, I smelt the freshness of the water.
Suddenly I felt a pounding pain in my back. It felt as the if the soft sand had started sinking. Or was it just me? That's what I thought. The relentless pain was raging through my bones. The sand was crawling over my body as I lay there by the river. My vision was getting more blurry. I could hear voices, not of my parents but of King Dashrat. I thought I heard him say, "I'm so sorry. I must have mistaken you for a deer."
He had shot me. I couldn't believe what I heard.
For a few hours I must have been unconscious.
How do I know?
Well, when I awoke, I had my head in my wife's lap. I was resting under a Banyan Tree. My wife was so pleased that I was awake. I could see it on her face.
She escorted my home as if I was a king.
My wife told me what had happened.
However, after that day I never saw King Dashrat or my parents again.
When I got home I cried on my wife's shoulder.
The fantastic news was that my wife was never mean again.
What was most surprising was that the Banyan Tree could talk.
I had never heard it ... but was it true?
By Elinor
Shravan Kumar and his wife
(from the viewpoint of Shravan Kumar's wife
some years later)
"Tell us another one!" exclaimed the children.
"Ok. A long time ago ...
" I lived in a small cottage with my husband, Shravan Kumar. We were happy - well not all of us. My parents in law were not so happy. I had two pots. One had sweet pudding (cream, sugar, honey, biscuit crumbs, raspberry jam and rose water) and the other, sour pudding (same ingredients just additional lime juice, lemon juice and small, frozen garlic lumps). Sweet for me and my husband and sour for my parents in law.
One day my parents in law complained. They said, " Son, we don't want to complain, but we are tired of eating sour pudding. May we eat something else?"
My huband was confused. He thought my pudding was great. So he tried his father's pudding. He (my husband) was disgusted. He checked the kitchen and found one pot of sour pudding, the other with sweet pudding.
"I'm disappointed in you," said Shravan Kumar angrily.
He told me to cook the family food in the same pot.
I was sad that I had to cook the same food, so I got a pot with two stomachs.
When I came back, I did the same thing: one sour and one sweet, just with one pot.
But I got found out and told off again.
This time Shravan Kumar said he was taking his parents (my parents in law) on a pilgrimage and, before I could ask, he said, "You can't come!"
So off he went on a pilgrimage.
Soon his parents got thirsty, so Shravan Kumar went off to get some water. (He left his parents under a tree.) When he was getting water, he got shot by King Dashrat. King Dashrat brought the water to my parents in law and built them a pyre to die on.
How do I know this?
King Dashrat told me.
I rushed to the desert and picked up my husband and looked for some shade.
I asked a Tamarind tree. It said, "No!" so I cursed it.
Then I asked a Neem tree. It said, "No!" so I cursed it as well.
Finally I asked a Banyan tree. It said, "Yes" and I blessed it.
The Banyan tree took pity on me and gave me healing coconut milk to heal my husband.
He was cured and so was I.
I was never mean again.
By Ahmed
Please let us know what you think of our stories.