“The Red Rice Granary Summary” is a captivating blog post that delves into the unique and fascinating world of red rice cultivation. This article provides a concise yet comprehensive overview of the red rice granary, exploring its historical significance and the intricate process of cultivating this vibrant and nutritious grain. From the rich cultural heritage surrounding red rice to its health benefits and culinary uses, this summary will provide readers with a glimpse into the captivating world of this remarkable crop. Read More Class 10 English Summaries.
The Red Rice Granary Summary
The Red Rice Granary Difficult Word Meanings
Havoc (हैवॉक)-situation in which there is a lot of damage, destruction or disorder (बरबादी, तबाही); Affluent (एफ्लूएन्ट)-having a lot of money and good standard of living (धनाढ्य); Vessel (वैसल)-a container used for holding liquids such as a bowl, cup etc. (बर्तन); Brimming (ब्रिमिंग)to be full of something, to fill something (भरा हुआ); Granary (ग्रेनेरी)-a building where grain is stored (a store room for grain) (भण्डारगृह); Alms (आम्ज)-money, clothes and food that are given to poor people (भिक्षा दान)
The Red Rice Granary Summary, Pronunciation & Translation
Every year, our country has to face natural disasters in some form. It may be an earthquake in Gujarat, floods in Orissa or a drought in Karnataka. In a poor country, these calamities create havoc.
In the course of my work, I have found that after such calamities, many people like to donate money or materials to relief funds. We assume that most donations come from rich people, but that is not true. On the contrary, people from the middle class and lower middle class help more. Rarely do rich people participate wholeheartedly.
A few years back, I was invited to a reputed company in Bangalore to deliver a lecture on Corporate Social Responsibility. Giving a speech is easy. But I was not sure how many people in the audience would really understand the speech and change themselves.
After my talk was over, I met many young girls and boys. It was an affluent company and the employees were well off and well-dressed. They were all very emotional after the lecture.
‘Madam, we buy so many clothes every month. Can we donate our old clothes to those people who are affected by the earthquake? Can you co-ordinate and send them?’
Some of them offered other things-
‘We have grown-up children, we would like to give their old toys and some vessels.’
I was very pleased at the reaction. It reminded me of the incident in Ramayana where during the construction of the bridge between India and Lanka, every squirrel helped Shri Rama by bringing a handful of sand.
Please send your bags to my office. I will see that they reach the right persons.”
Within a week, my office was flooded with hundreds of bags. I was proud that my lecture had proven so effective.
One Sunday, along with my assistants, I opened the bags. What we saw left us amazed and shocked. The bags were brimming over with all kinds of junk! Piles of high heeled slippers (some of them without the pair), torn undergarments, unwashed shirts, transparent, cheap saris, toys which had neither shape nor colour, unusable bed sheets, aluminium vessels, broken cassettes were soon heaped in front of us like a mountain. There were only a few good shirts, saris and usable materials.
It was apparent that, instead of sending the material to a garbage or the kabariwala, these people had transferred them to my office in the name of donation. The men and women I had met that day were bright, well travelled, well-off people. If educated people like them behaved like this, what would uneducated people do?
But then I was reminded of an incident from my childhood. I was born and brought up in a village in Karnataka’s Haveri district, called Shiggaon. My grandfather was a retired school teacher and my grandmother Krishtakka never went to school. Both of them had hardly travelled and had never stepped out of Karnataka. Yet they were hardworking people, who did their work wholeheartedly without expecting anything from anybody in their life. Their photographs never appeared in any paper, nor did they go up on a stage to receive a prize for the work they did. They lived like flowers with fragrance in the forest, enchanting everyone around them, but hardly noticed by the outside world.
In the village we had paddy fields and we used to store the paddy in granaries. There were two granaries. One was in the front and the other at the back of our house. The better quality rice, which was white, was always stored in the front granary and the inferior quality, which was little thick and red, was stored in the granary at the back.
In those days, there was no communal divide in the village. People from different communities lived together in peace. Many would come to our house to ask for alms. There were Muslim Fakirs, Hindu Dasalahs who roamed the countryside singing devotional songs, Yellamma Jogathis who appeared holding the image of Goddess Yellamma over their heads, poor students and invalid people.
We never had too much cash in the house and the only help my grandfather could give these people was in the form of rice. People who receive help do not talk too much. They would receive the rice, smile and raise their right hand to bless us. Irrespective of their religion, the blessing was always “May God bless you.” My grandfather always looked happy after giving them alms.
I was a little girl then and not too tall. Since the entrance to the front granary was low, it was difficult for grown-ups to enter. So I would be given a small bucket and sent inside. There I used to fill up the bucket with rice and give it to them. They would tell me how many measures they wanted.
In the evening, my grandmother used to cook for everybody. That time she would send me to the granary at the back of the house where the red rice was stored. I would again fill up the bucket with as much rice as she wanted and get it for her to cook our dinner.
This went on for many years. When I was a little older, I asked my grandparents a question that had been bothering me for long.
‘Why should we eat the red rice always at the night when it is not so good, and give those poor – people the better quality rice?’
My grandmother Krishtakka smiled and told me something I will never forget in my life.
“Child, whenever you want to give something to somebody, give the best in you, never the second best. That is what I have learned from life. God is not there in the temple, mosque or church. He is with the people. If you serve them with whatever you have, you have served God.’
My grandfather answered my question in a different way.
Our ancestors have taught us in the Vedas that one should:
Donate with kind words.
Donate with happiness.
Donate with sincerity.
Donate only to the needy.
Donate without expectation because it is not a gift. It is a duty.
Donate with your wife’s consent.
Donate to other people without making your dependents helpless.
Donate without caring for caste, creed and religion.
Donate so that the receiver prospers.
This lesson from my grandparents, told to me when I was just a little girl, has stayed with me ever since. If at all I am helping anyone today, it is because of the teachings by those simple souls; I did not learn them in any school or college.