MukeshEnglishSir

UNIT 3  The King once again asked the hermit for answers to his three questions. The hermit explained that the King had already received them through his own actions. By helping the hermit dig, the King avoided danger; at that time, the hermit was the most important man, and helping him was the King’s most important duty. Later, by saving the wounded enemy, the King made peace with him; then the wounded man was the most important person, and caring for him was the most important task. The hermit concluded that the most important time is “now”, the most important person is the one you are with, and the most important work is to do good for others, for that is the true purpose of life. ଏହାର ଓଡ଼ିଆ ଅନୁବାଦ (ସାରାଂଶ): ରାଜା ପୁଣିଥରେ ସନ୍ୟାସୀଙ୍କୁ ତାଙ୍କ ତିନୋଟି ପ୍ରଶ୍ନର ଉତ୍ତର ମାଗିଲେ। ସନ୍ୟାସୀ କହିଲେ ଯେ ଉତ୍ତର ସେ ପାଇସାରିଛନ୍ତି। ଯଦି ସେ ସନ୍ୟାସୀଙ୍କୁ ଦୟା କରି କାମରେ ସାହାଯ୍ୟ କରିନଥାନ୍ତେ, ତେବେ ଶତୃ ଆକ୍ରମଣ କରିଥାନ୍ତା। ସେଥିପାଇଁ ସବୁଠାରୁ ଦରକାରୀ ସମୟ ଥିଲା ସେଇ ସମୟ, ସନ୍ୟାସୀ ହେଲେ ସବୁଠାରୁ ଦରକାରୀ ଲୋକ, ଏବଂ ତାଙ୍କୁ ଭଲ କରିବା ...

 Unit 1 A king wanted to know the answers to three questions: the right time to begin everything, the right people to listen to, and the most important thing to do. He announced a reward for anyone who could answer. Many learned men came, but they all gave different answers. Some said to plan everything in advance, others said to act according to circumstances, some suggested consulting a council, and others said only magicians could tell the right time. For the second question, some considered councillors most important, others priests, doctors, or warriors. For the third, some valued science, others warfare, and others religious worship. Since all the answers were different, the king was not satisfied and decided instead to seek advice from a wise hermit. ଏକ ରାଜାଙ୍କୁ ତିନୋଟି ପ୍ରଶ୍ନର ଉତ୍ତର ଜାଣିବାକୁ ବହୁତ ଇଚ୍ଛା ହେଲା — ସବୁ କାମ ଆରମ୍ଭ କରିବାର ସଠିକ ସମୟ କେବେ, କାହାଙ୍କୁ ସୁଣିବା ସବୁଠାରୁ ଭଲ, ଏବଂ କେଉଁ କାମ ସବୁଠାରୁ ଗୁରୁତ୍ୱପୂର୍ଣ୍ଣ। ସେ ପ୍ରକାଶ କରିଲେ ଯେ, ଯିଏ ଏହି ପ୍ରଶ୍ନମାନଙ୍କର ଠିକ ଉତ୍ତର ଦେବ, ତାକୁ ସେ ପୁ...

 To overcome my fear of Red, I wrote a poem about him, my first piece of journalism in verse. By the next day, everyone on the street knew it and loved it, filled with hateful glee. One morning, on my way to school, Red and his lieutenants confronted me. His piercing eyes mocked me as he said, “Ah, the poet,” with a crooked smile, asking if my verses rhymed. Then, he pulled out his knuckle-duster, struck my head, and I fell, bleeding and unconscious—my first “reward” as a poet. I spent days in bed recovering. When I went out, head still bandaged, I saw Red again. Despite trying to be brave, I panicked and ran home. There, I lay on my bed, ashamed and furious at my cowardice, determined to conquer it no matter what. ରେଡ୍‌ ପ୍ରତି ମୋର ଭୟକୁ ଜିତିବା ପାଇଁ, ମୁଁ ତା’ ବିଷୟରେ ଗୋଟିଏ କବିତା ଲେଖିଲି—ଏହା ଥିଲା କବିତାରେ ଲେଖା ମୋର ପ୍ରଥମ ସାମ୍ବାଦିକ କାମ। ପରବର୍ତ୍ତୀ ଦିନ, ଗଲିରେ ସମସ୍ତେ ଏହାକୁ ଜାଣିଲେ ଏବଂ ପ୍ରେମ କଲେ, କିନ୍ତୁ ଏହି ପ୍ରେମ ଥିଲା ଘୃଣାଭରା ଆନନ୍ଦ ସହିତ। ଗୋଟେ ସକାଳେ, ବିଦ୍ୟାଳୟକୁ ଯାଉଥିବା ବେଳେ, ରେଡ୍‌ ଓ ତା’ର ସହକାରୀମା...

  Summery   Red, a 16-year-old boy, ruled our street. He was big, broad-shouldered, and walked confidently, like a sailor. With his cap backward, red hair falling over his face, and sharp green eyes, he looked intimidating. A few followers, also wearing caps backward, trailed him. Red would demand "money" from any boy, and his group would search their pockets. If anyone resisted, they’d get beaten up. Everyone, including me, feared Red because he carried a metal knuckle-duster.  Red ୧୬ ବର୍ଷର ଏକ ବାଳକ, ଆମ ଗଲିକୁ ଶାସନ କରୁଥିଲା। ସେ ବଡ଼, ଚଉଡ଼ା କାନ୍ଧର, ଏବଂ ଏକ ନାବିକଙ୍କ ପରି ଆତ୍ମବିଶ୍ୱାସରେ ଚାଲୁଥିଲା। ପଛକୁ ପିନ୍ଧିଥିବା କ୍ୟାପ୍‌, ମୁହଁ ଉପରେ ପଡ଼ିଥିବା ଲାଲ କେଶ, ଏବଂ ତୀକ୍ଷ୍ଣ ସବୁଜ ଆଖି—ସେକଥାକୁ ଦେଖିଲେ ଭୟ ଲାଗୁଥିଲା। ତାଙ୍କ ସହୋଗୀ କିଛି ବାଳକ, ସେମାନେମଧ୍ୟ ପଛକୁ କ୍ୟାପ୍‌ ପିନ୍ଧିଥିଲେ, ତାଙ୍କ ପଛରେ ଚାଲୁଥିଲେ। Red କୌଣସି ଲୋକଠାରୁ “ଟଙ୍କା” ଦାବି କରୁଥିଲେ, ଏବଂ ତାଙ୍କ ଦଳ ସେମାନଙ୍କ pockets ତଳାଶ କରୁଥିଲା। କେହି ବିରୋଧ କଲେ, ସେମାନେ ମାଡ଼ିଯାଉଥିଲେ। ସମସ୍ତେ। ମୁଁ ମଧ୍ୟ ଲାଲକୁ ଭୟ କରୁଥିଲୁ, କାରଣ ସେ ଏକ ଲୁହାର knuckle-duster ବୋହିଥାନ୍ତି। Broad-sh...

  Standing Up for Yourself  Summery In 1941, I lived alone in a quiet Moscow apartment. My parents were divorced; my father was in Kazakhstan with his new family, and I rarely heard from him. My mother, a former geologist, was singing for soldiers at the war front. With no parents around, I learned from the streets how to swear, smoke, spit, and fight. The streets also taught me to be fearless and stand up to stronger people, lessons I still carry today. 1941 ମସିହାରେ, ମୁଁ ଏକ ଶାନ୍ତ ମୋସ୍କୋ ଫ୍ଲାଟ୍‌ରେ ଏକାକୀ ରହୁଥିଲି। ମୋର ମା’-ବାପାଙ୍କର ବିବାହ ବିଚ୍ଛେଦ ହୋଇଥିଲା; ବାପା ତାଙ୍କର ନୂଆ ପରିବାର ସହିତ କାଜାକସ୍ଥାନରେ ଥିଲେ ଏବଂ ସେଠାରୁ ମୋ ପାଖକୁ ବହୁତ କମ୍‌ ଖବର ଆସୁଥିଲା। ମୋର ମା’, ଜଣେ ପୂର୍ବତନ ଭୂ-ବିଜ୍ଞାନୀ, ସେନାମାନଙ୍କ ପାଇଁ ସମ୍ମୁଖ ସୈନ୍ୟମୋର୍ଚ୍ଚରେ ଗୀତ ଗାଉଥିଲେ। ମା’-ବାପାଙ୍କୁ ଛାଡ଼ି ଏକାକୀ ହେବାରୁ, ମୁଁ ରାସ୍ତାରୁ ଗାଳି ଦେବା, ଧୂମପାନ କରିବା, ଥୁକିବା ଏବଂ ମାରାମାରି କରିବା ସିଖିଲି। ରାସ୍ତା ମୋତେ ନିର୍ଭୀକ ହେବା ଏବଂ ଶକ୍ତିଶାଳୀ ଲୋକଙ୍କ ସାମ୍ନାରେ ଦଣ୍ଡାୟମାନ ହେବାର ପାଠ ମଧ୍ୟ ପଢ଼ାଇଲା, ଯାହାକୁ ମୁଁ ଏବେ ପର୍ଯ୍ୟନ୍ତ ସଙ୍ଗେ ନେଇଛି। 👉 empty flat - an unoccupi...