machilipatnam mail

My father worked as a judicial officer and consequently , we had to stay at some of the remotest and quite non-decrepit villages for most of the time, as he got transferred or kicked from one end of the state to other like a football...Sometimes we would not stay even for the stipulated three years period and were told to pack up midterm ...If it was Alur in kurnool Dt for a while, then it would be Ongole for just 15 days and later Warangal in Telangana..(it was a town, god be praised)....And all this running hither and thither took it"s toll on my education...(my schooling, i should say...Education? ...sounds too intellectual)...Always an indifferent student, i acquired the reputation of a shirker and must admit never cared to study...To add to this, most of my schools were all small, government-run affairs..(there were no private schools).. and till i came to Lady Ampthill, i never sat on a proper bench and desk in a class.... That should speak for the state of affairs my school...

Around the later half of the eighties,last century, one fine morning, a little boy started for his school, armed with his slate and ,pencil.. An old ox somehow got into a bad temper, ran berserk, and charged at little Ranga...for that was the little boy"s name..That ox was said to be alive till just fifty years back and used to rest before the Ramalingeswara swami temple at Robertsonpet...He tried to dodge the oncoming fury but the feeble thread that bound his knickers went phut, hindering his steps and the poor boy fell down flat on his face.. As the ox rushed in throwing it"s horns, a shocked Ranga gave one hoarse cry calling out Anna'..The ox stopped in mid- charge,threw it"s head back and said to have mooed in a good humour and Ranga burst out in to a fit of laughter....and kept laughing all his life..... From the day onwards, Ranga was lost to this world....May be doctors, today would call it as after shock....He never talked or went home and kept laughing, da...

A Muslim young man from dudekula community---They are a very poor, nomadic class or caste? of mohammedans and clean and spin cotton..from which vocation the name of the caste is derived.....usually they make and repair beds and pillows---- was once called in to a very rich pedakomuti household to repair their beds...He was called Ismail and was said to be a rather gentle natured young fellow....He was shown into a backroom and routinely he did his work and got out after finishing it...Only thing was, he did not quite notice the tiny diamonds that must have flown about with the cotton around the room...The householders, who were rather very rich businessmen, hid them in a pillow and very negligently failed to keep it safe...Those diamonds lay there scattered in the room for sometime until a widowed daughter of the house noticed and silently pilfered them for herself.. The householders remembered the diamonds rather late and after some probing mistook Ismail to be the culprit...A gang...