"Rode, Linda - I, A Living Arrow" - читать интересную книгу автора (Rode Linda)quest anything of me, I shall gladly hand it over without a thought, for
that is the right and only thing to do. Not to comply is surely punish- able by death. Were it not for you, we would all be careless clots, not looking left or right before we cross, not to mention back and front. A free, contented nation. A people with no daily excitement. But "free" seems to be your middle name, mother: a nation not sep- arated by race, colour or creed. And look at what you have already achieved. Look at your children today. Nothing but a bunch of happy inmates - in a rather large John Vorster Square. Grade 11 - King David High, Linden, Jhb Market-day Tamarra Subramony "Out of the way, Uncle!" Aramugan Pillay was violently flung aside as two small brown streaks raced past him in pursuit of a ball. The handles of his flimsy blue plas- tic packet gave way to the weight of a kilogram of tomatoes and onions. Aramugan stared abjectedly as the vegetables spilled and bounced else seemed to have noticed. A self-assured pair of high heels stepped warily over an onion while a tomato was squashed vengefully by a pair of takkies trailing behind. A stream of expletives squirted from the lips of their teenage owner. With mingled fascination and horror Aramugan Pillay watched the tomato juice create swirls of colour as it merged with other smears of dubious origin. And he recalled a similar incident, many years ago, when he was still a boy. "Ama, look, your new red sari is messed with mud." "Hush, Aru," Mrs Pillay had said, bending down to pick up the ve- getables which had spilled from the torn brown paper bag in the old Zulu man's hands. The old man bent over and grinned at Aru. "You're looking after your Ama nicely, eh naina?" His wrinkled skin reminded Aru of the hip- pos he had seen in the Umlaas River nestling in Zeekoe Valley, the home of so many Indian market gardeners. Aramugan took one peek at the toothless gums and clung to his mother in terror. Mrs Pillay straightened her back slowly, handing the last onion with a mud-splattered hand to the man. He thanked her profusely and |
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