Memories of the past have something to do with tragedies: pain, insult,
loss, grief...
When I was a child, I was a good marksman. I was adept at aiming at any
mango or cashew fruit and bringing it down with stones. Once, while I
was going to school, I saw an owl on a tree. I don't know what came over
me. I aimed and threw a stone at it. And it dropped to the ground dead.
This painful memory has stayed with me since then and still haunts me.
There are many things in life that you can't repair later. Our house was in
the middle of a large garden with a variety of trees-mango, cashew,
coconut, arecanut, jackfruit, tamarind. There was hardly any tree I had
not climbed. Once on top of the tree I would forget about the laws of
gravitation. And naturally it was normal routine for me to fall off them.
As it became a regular affair, my mother kept a dish of herbal oil handy
so that she could take it with her every time she rushed to the spot where
I hit the ground with a big thud.
1. Why does the narrator call himself a good marksman?
2. What is the haunting memory that still pains the narrator?
3. What happened when the narrator forgot the laws of gravitation?
4. What made the narrator's mother keep a dish of herbal oil?
5. ‘Memories of the past have something to do with tragedies.’ How does the
narrator prove this?
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