Guru Geethaya by Chingiz Aitmatov (Translator – Dadigama V. Rodrigo) Download the Attachment (Pahalin Thiyen Link eka Click karala File. Author, Dadigama V Rodrigu. ISBN, Publisher, SAMEERA PUBLICATIONS. Pages, Size, x x cm. Weight, Our Price, Rs. HomeĀ» Fiction, Novels, Sinhala Book, Sinhala Fiction, Sinhala Novels, Sinhala Translation NovelsĀ» Guru Geethaya by Chinghiz Aitmatov.

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Much of what he told us, I now realize, were legends woven by the people about our great leader, but we never doubted the truth of it, just as we never doubted that milk was white. Duishen took a length of rope and a sickle and started off. No, a wolf cub will never make a house dog! We’ll put lots of straw on the floor to sit on and start lessons. Lenin was wearing a rather baggy army jacket, his face looked pinched and he had a longish beard.

It was getting dark. Newer Post Older Post Home. I could not concentrate on my work, my geefhaya were all thumbs the yarn kept breaking off, and this maddened my aunt still more.

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He taught us as well as he could, he taught us what he gyru we should know, guided by his instinct alone. I think we appreciated all that, young though we were”. Yes, I could really be angry with myself. In the bluish paling half-light I pore over the sketches for my new picture.

In some ways, aesthetic theory has become a thing of the past. Those times are past. He had a crazy idea and carried it through. He went on foot, and was usually away two or three days. From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia. A nasal, drawn-out howl seemed to rise from the ground and hang, vibrating, in the air.


But the steppe remained indifferent to my soundless cry, and I wept, I don’t know why. Posted by Free education Posted on 8: Gradually the excitement died down.


We lived in darkness. Its waning light stained the crowns of the poplars a dull, sorrowful purple. The Blue and Brown by Ludwig Wittgenstein. Out of my yard with you! May the holy Baubedin keep you! Deserted by my friends, I hurried back to Duishen’s school, emptied my bag beside the door, and ran as fast as I could through the ravines and glades to gather more cow dung.

And on the hill behind the village there are two great poplars. Altynai, who was sitting next to me, started nervously as though suddenly remembering something, and asked me what Duishen they were talking about. In my heart I begged him not to gdethaya back before he reached our place.

No one forced geetnaya to go and freeze in that icy barn. They stand on a rise, open to all winds, the slightest motion of the air affects them, and their every leaf responds sensitively to the tiniest breeze. Their soft, kind expression seemed to say to us: Duishen pretended not to hear, he ignored their insulting remarks completely. Of sending me to school in town?

At one time I used to go and see them very often, and sometimes I stayed with them overnight. And I simply could not imagine this docile, bearded old man as a Komsomol member and, more amazing still, feethaya school when he himself could hardly read and write.


Next, he pointed to the picture he had pinned to the wall. The young man was never ready to accept defeat and go back to join some other profession in order to earn his bread and butter. I met her when I too, became a townsman. I remember the greatcoat because it was a black one, oddly enough. Thin plumes of smoke rose vuru the chimneys.

But I could not sleep. This uncertainty drove me frantic.

And as before he seemed to speak to us, saying with his clear, trusting eyes: There was nothing else on the walls of the schoolroom, just this picture of Lenin. I was older than the others, and so I felt it was up to me to answer. I do not believe in talking novep my paintings before they are finished even to my closest friends. Go on, and don’t let me see you again too soon!

I did not have the courage to geethqya. We dropped our bags on the ground to rest a bit, and at that moment Duishen came out.

Perhaps they would have forgotten all about this school business, if a general meeting had not been called soon after Duishen’s arrival. Who could I be angry with?

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