SRR Govt.Arts& Science College Karimnagar Satavahana University Karimnagar- I year English Semester-1 Unit 1.- 2020-21 onwards englishlanguage-lit.blogspot.com R.K.Narayan is one of the greatest Indian English novelists.His subtle irony, gentle humour, indianness and lucid narrative style captivate the readers. He was honoured with Sahithya Akademi award in the year 196o for the novel ‘The Guide’ RK.Narayan’s short story ‘ A Snake in the Grass’ is centered around a Cobra which had entered a bungalow on a sunny afternoon. Upon hearing the news of cobra’s entry into the compound, the family members consisting of the mother and four sons in a great agitation, wakes up their old lazy servant Dasa. Dasa tries to dismiss the matter but the family rebukes him to search for the snake in the bushes. Dasa cleverly counters them for not providing grass cutter for months. While all are busy in cutting bushes and creepers to find the snake, the college boy...
Om namo bagavathe sri vasudevaya 🙏 Thy golden Light came down into my brain And the grey rooms of mind sun-touched became A bright reply to Wisdom's occult plane, A calm illumination and a flame. Thy golden Light came down into my throat, And all my speech is now a tune divine, A paean-song of Thee my single note; My words are drunk with the immortal's wine. Thy golden Light came down into my heart Smiting my life with Thy eternity; Now has it grown a temple where Thou art And all its passions point towards only Thee. Thy golden Light came down into my feet, My earth is now Thy playfield and Thy seat . The Golden light is a sonnet ( 14 lines)written in the style of Shakespearean sonnet containing three quartains and one couplet. Rhyme scheme is abab cdcd efef gg. The repetition of Thy at the beginning of every stanza is Anaphora, a figure of speech. The Poet reveals his intense spiritual experience and enlightenment.Golden light is the symbol of div...
Kakatiya University English Semester- 3. The Kitchen : Vimala I remember the kitchen’s , Flavor upon flavor, A mouthwatering treasury, Pungence of seasonings, And the aroma of incense From the prayer room Next door. Each morning the kitchen awoke To the swish of churning butter The scraping of scoured pots. And in the center, the stove, Fresh washed with mud, painted And bedecked, all set to burn. We saved secret money in the seasoning box, hid sweets too, and played at cooking with lentils and We played Mother and Father, In the magic world of kitchen That wrapped childhood in its spell. No longer playground for the grown up girl Now trained into kitchenhood. Like all the mothers and mothers’ mothers Before her, in the kitchen She becomes woman right here. Our kitchen is a mortuary, Pans, tins, gunny bags Crowd it like cadavers That hang amid clouds of damp wood smoke. Mother float...
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