My Days Read Online Free

beautiful.
    Turning back from my window, one evening, I noticed the fuel-shop man moving among the plants in our garden. I trembled at the sight of him, for I knew one of his activities was to bring under control the turbulent boys of our street. His services were in constant demand; he would go up and chastise the trouble-maker in his own territory and let go his hold only when the delinquent howled for mercy. When I saw him prowling in our garden, I had no doubt that he had come for me. Although I had done nothing to expect punishment, I felt he might attack me for the pleasure of it. He carried a basket in hand and had obtained my grandmother’s permission to take flowers for his goddess in residence. Normally Granny would not let anyone touch the flowers in her garden, but Kodandam stood in a special category. (I learnt about this only later.) At the first sight of him I was filled with dread and at once fled upstairs noiselessly. From over the parapet I peeped out in the hope that he would have gone, but he was still there, prowling around, looking for me, perhaps. I quietly slipped into my uncle’s study, hid myself behind some clothes heaped on a stand. I was satisfied that even if he came upstairs, he would not be able to locate me—although the smell of clothes waiting to be sent to the dhobi was suffocating. How right I was in selecting this concealment was proved an hour or two later when people began to search for me. As night fell, I was determined not to budge—it was terrifying, but I had to choose between the terror of darkness and the terror of walking into the arms of Kodandam. I was sure that Kodandam would wait for me indefinitely. Hours ago I had lost sight of my grandmother. I supposed she must be in the kitchen. But with Kodandam there, I had no courage to call her or go in search of her. My only means of escape seemed to be up the staircase. So I sat there still and silent even when my grandmother came up and stopped within an inch of me, calling my name aloud, and then my uncle, and then the three tenants who occupied the rear portions of our house, and their sons, all of whom kept shouting my name, without looking behind the clothes on the stand. I answered their call, but under my breath, “I am here. Send away that man.” I watched them hold a brief conference.
    â€œI went out and verified, but no one saw him at the fuel shop.”
    â€œThese are bad days—anything may happen, especially in a festival, child-lifters get busy.”
    â€œSometimes they carry them off for human sacrifice.” At which my grandmother wailed aloud. I sat stonily listening to this talk, but lacked the courage to come out of my hiding. They would chastise me for not revealing myself earlier. I was now as afraid of them as I had been of Kodandam. They went down, and a little later came up again in search of me, and then again and again. And every time they brushed past me, I was on the verge of shouting back, “Yes, here I am; why don’t you all go away? I’ll come down when Kodandam is gone,” but I choked the words back.
    Presently I heard a lot of commotion downstairs, various voices calling, mentioning my name, a babble over the drums and pipes from the goddess’s camp. All sound in our house presently ceased. It became pitch dark. I was afraid to remain in that darkness any longer. I got up, softly went down the steps, and stood in front of my grandmother without a word as she sat in a corner of the house grief-stricken. She did not see me, a dim lamp was burning. I drew her attention to myself by declaring, “I am hungry.” T9 her questioning, I gave no answer. I persisted in saying, “1 was only upstairs.” My uncle and the tenants and their sons returned late at night. “We have reported to the police. They have warned all the railway stations by telegram, to watch for a boy with curly hair and only one pearl ear-ring.”
    â€œWhy