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Prepared by- Krishna Murari Tiwari, TGT-English, JNV Sant Kabir Nagar (U.P.)

class-7^th

Sub-english

Book-an alien hand

Chapter-7

chandni

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class-7^th

Sub-english

Book-an alien hand

Chapter-7

chandni

Once upon a time there lived an old man in Almora.
He was popularly known as Abbu Khan.
He lived all alone.
To keep his loneliness far, he kept goats as pets.
He gave them funny names such as Kalua, Moongia and Gujari.

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He talked to them as one’s own children.

Poor Abbu was little unlucky in this matter of goats.

At night goats would pull the string, to break lose.

They love their freedom.

They were of the best hill breed.

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He did not understand why even the juiciest grass
and that grains that he gave them and all love that he showered on them, would not stop.
these unfortunate goats from running straight into the jaws of death.
He decided not to have any more goats.

Complexities of Abbu Khan

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He bought a young goat as pretty and as white as snow.
Abbu Khan called her Chandni, which means Moonlight.
Years passed, Chandni watched the hilltops bathed in sunlight.
She ran towards the hills but had to stop with a jerk.
She hated that rope.

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“I want to go to the hills,”

I’ll give you tastier food and a much longer rope.”

“No, thank you. Let me go to the hills.”

“Do you realise the risk you are running, you obstinate creature? There is a dangerous wolf in the hills. He’ll eat you up.”

“God has given me a pair of horns. I’ll fight the wolf.

CHANDNI

ABBU KHAN

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“Fight the wolf, indeed! Have you forgotten the story of your sister Kalua who was the size of a big deer. She fought the wolf through the night but was killed in the morning.”

“From today you’ll live in a small hut, and not move about freely in the compound.

: “I want to go to the hills.”

Love for Freedom

Insecurity

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The same night Chandni made that window her passage to freedom.

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Wherever she went, the tall grass rose to embrace her, the flowers bloomed to amuse her and the wind sang an endless song of welcome.

It was the happiest day in Chandni’s life.

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Should she go back to the safety of Abbu Khan’s hut? “No,” she said to herself, “death in an open field is far better than life in a small hut”.

The wolf had come out of the bushes, and was staring greedily at Chandni.

His eyes were shining like burning coals in the darkness.

The wolf and the goat sized up each other.

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Chandni was small. But small is not weak.
Chandni stood firm on her legs, head slightly bent and. horns jutting out
She was a picture of courage. She looked like a brave soldier ready to fight a treacherous enemy.
“Success or failure is a matter of luck or chance.”
The fight began. It went on through the night.

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The first rays of the sun saw Chandni lying on the ground.
She was completely soaked in blood.
An assembly of birds perched on top of a tree nearby was debating the result of the fight.

A wise old bird declaimed with confidence, “Chandni is the winner.”

ZAKIR HUSAIN

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