THERE was a girl named Valliammai who was called Valli for short. She was eight years old and very curious about things. Her favourite pastime was standing in the front doorway of her house,watching what was happening in the street outside.
The most fascinating thing of all was the bus that travelled between her village and the nearest town. It passed through her street each hour, once going to the town and once coming back.The sight of the bus,was a source of unending joy for Valli.
Day after day she watched the bus, and gradually a tiny wish crept into her head and grew there: she wanted to ride on that bus, even if just once. This wish became stronger and stronger, until it was an overwhelming desire
Over many days and months Valli listened carefully to conversations between her neighbour sand people who regularly used the bus,she also asked a few discreet questions here and there.
Thisway she picked up various small details about thebus journey. The town was six miles from her village.The fare was thirty paise one way — “which is almost nothing at all,” she heard one well-dressed man say
This meant that she could take the one-o’clock afternoon bus, reach the town at one forty-five, andbe back home by about two forty-five...On and on went her thoughts as she calculated and recalculated, planned and replanned.
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