By Indian English Writing‚ we mean that body of literature which is written by Indians in English. It could be in the form of poetry‚ prose‚ fiction or drama. English is not our mother tongue and we are not native speakers of English‚ yet when in the early decades of the nineteenth century‚ English was introduced as the medium of instruction in our educational system‚ Indians were able to read Western literature that was available in English. They found the language
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understatement‚ influenced 20th-century fiction‚ as did his life of adventure and public image. He produced most of his work between the mid-1920s and the mid-1950s. He won the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1954. Hemingway’s fiction was successful because the characters he presented exhibited authenticity that resonated with his audience. Many of his works are classics of American literature. He published seven novels‚ six short story collections‚ and two non-fiction works during his lifetime; a further
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After doing some research and from real-world experience‚ I have come to the conclusion that race is a very narrow minded classification of human beings. The primary factors in determining race seem to be biological “surface” or “visible” traits such as skin color‚ hair type and facial features. However normal this may seem in our society‚ it is not without fault. As a culture‚ it seems‚ North Americans have a common desire to classify or compartmentalize just about everything including people
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I feel a great amount of pity towards all of the newcomers here. They all have a tremor quaking through their bodies‚ their eyes pooling with tears‚ and their throats tearing themselves raw. As the guards drag the three outsiders through the halls‚ I catch quick observations of the three. All three of them are male‚ each with strange features that attract my attention. The largest - in every sense of the word - of the group has neon pink streaks that greatly contrast with his gray-brown hair. A shorter
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nightgown does not cover her arms completely. She tries to quickly cover up her arms with the blanket‚ but Mrs. Rebecca continues to glare at her with a look of disdain. “I did not mean to impose. I just wanted to bring you some food because you have been sleeping for so long‚ but I do have a friend who can help you with those bruises‚” Mrs. Rebecca tells her. “No‚ it is fine‚” Jasmine begins. “Edna has great ointments. It will make those bruises go away faster‚ so you will not have to worry about
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“Lilliana‚ Lilliana!” Her mother’s voice echoed in her mind. Lilliana regressed back into her consciousness. She turned to see Queen Iris’s worried expression staring back at her. “Mother?” “Yes‚” she pulled her into a comforting embrace‚ “you were having another night terror.” Lilliana pulled back. “It was so real.” The Queen brushed her chestnut brown hair behind her ear. She kissed her temple. “It was only a dream Lilliana.” She smiled‚ “There is nothing for you to be afraid of.” Lilliana
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As we walked inside the Brew‚ I noticed a familiar Dark brown-haired dude sitting in the corner with a coffee in his hand. " Two cups of cappuccino with whipped cream and 1 scoop of sugar in one of them please!" Spencer ordered for us and payed for them quickly. I tried to protest‚ but being Spencer Hastings‚ she wouldn’t budge. Once we got our coffees‚ I followed Spencer to a dark‚ secluded part of the Brew and sat down on the red velvet seating. " This is nice." I said to Spencer‚ sipping
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Lola tried to make sense of what was happening‚ to connect to something she had lost so long ago. Somewhere in her mind had to be the answer‚ like some hidden part of her that knew what this all meant. But it was like wondering around a room she should know while blind. She knew somewhere was the answer‚ but she just couldn’t see where. So she was left fumbling about for what was right or wrong. "I don’t even know what it means to be a fox anymore." she finally admitted her eyes looking down to
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Lathan looked to Allison and then back to Constantine‚ “You’ve thought of everything — like normal. There’s really no other choice.” Allison’s body tensed. If David‚ or Lathan — whoever he was — was going to do something she knew it had to be soon. She was going to run all right. But she had no intentions of running away. She only wished that she had a knife or her car keys. Anything that she could use as a weapon against the glittery prick. At the thought of her keys‚ Allison’s hand brushed against
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It seems like an eternity passes‚ but Lance keeps one hand trained on Keith’s spine soothingly as he inhales and exhales; caressing star maps and circles and trajectories onto his back‚ maintaining eye contact with him all the way until he’s no longer blinking back kaleidoscopes of crimson‚ fury‚ cataclysm at the blurred edges of his vision. Calm. Calm‚ Keith‚ calm. "Fuck‚ Lance‚ I’m so sor-" "Don’t apologise‚" Lance says shortly‚ almost bitingly and Keith holds his tongue‚ afraid. He feels drained
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