Baba’s blue diary is a butterfly graveyard. Every time a butterfly comes into our house and settles down on the wall, flapping its velvety wings, Baba picks up the diary, climbs up on a chair, hovers the open diary over the little thing, and when it is too busy to notice, Baba closes in on it and snaps the diary shut.
While studying a lesson in Moral Science, I said to Baba it is wrong to hurt another creature. Baba said he catches the butterflies because he wants to see me smile.
Last night, I dreamt I was a butterfly, sitting on the wall, flapping my wings when Baba told Ma to quickly bring him his diary. "What a big butterfly! Let's catch it and stick it up in the diary.”
I hate...
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The tiger arrives to teach me tricks. I tell him I am scared of fire because once there was a fire in my house and my doll died. He scolds me and says he will teach me human tricks. Like listening to elders, not talking back, or teaching Baba what is right and what is not. He will also teach me fractions and decimals because Baba told him I am poor at math. I tell him Ma will teach me, but he roars so loud, I wet my frock.
I hate...
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"Did you get your math paper? How much did you score?” Baba will ask. I push the paper to the bottom of my bag. "He won’t find it," my friend whispers. I drag my feet walking home, watching the vehicles zoom by. When I reach the end of the footpath, I stop. I hear a huge vehicle approaching. I close my eyes and step off.
I...
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