How I Taught My Grandmother to Read

Why This Matters

Think of something you can do easily but an elder in your family cannot. Maybe your grandmother cannot read a text message. Maybe your grandfather cannot use a smartphone. You do it for them, again and again, without thinking much about it. Now imagine how that feels from their side. Imagine needing someone else every single time, just to understand a few words on a page.

This is a true story from the writer’s own childhood. When Sudha Murty was about twelve, she used to read a serial novel aloud to her grandmother, who had never been to school. One week the girl went away. The grandmother was left holding a magazine she could not read — and it broke her heart.

What she did next is the whole point of the story. She did not sigh and accept it. At the age of sixty-two, with grey hair and wrinkled hands, she decided to learn to read herself. This story speaks to anyone who has ever thought “I’m too old for that” or “it’s too late for me.” It quietly says: no, it is not.

The Big Idea

Here is the one sentence to carry away from this whole chapter.

The Big Idea: It is never too late to learn. With real determination, a person can overcome any obstacle — and learning to read for yourself is also learning to be independent and to respect yourself.

The author is Sudha Murty, and the piece is a prose memoir — a true story she remembers from her own life. The narrator (the twelve-year-old girl) is the young Sudha Murty herself.

The Story, in Short

Here is what happens, told plainly and in order.

When Sudha was a girl of about twelve, she stayed with her grandparents in a village in north Karnataka. In those days news was slow. The bus brought the morning paper in the afternoon and the weekly magazine a day late. Everyone waited eagerly for it.

A very popular Kannada writer named Triveni had a serial novel running in the weekly magazine Karmaveera. The novel was called Kashi Yatre. It was about an old lady who longed to go to Kashi (Varanasi) to worship. In the end, that old lady gives away all her savings for an orphan girl’s wedding instead of going to Kashi.

The grandmother, Krishtakka — the girl called her Avva, which means “mother” in north Karnataka Kannada — had never been to school and could not read. So every week the girl read the new episode of Kashi Yatre aloud to her. The grandmother loved it. She felt she was that old lady in the novel, because she too had never gone to Kashi.

Then the girl went to a wedding in another village and ended up staying a whole week. When she came back, she found her grandmother in tears — something she had never seen before. That night, under a full moon, Avva told the girl her secret pain. While the girl was away, the new episode had arrived and she could not read a word of it. She had even rubbed her hands over the page, wishing she could understand it. She felt helpless and dependent. “We are well-off,” she said, “but what use is money when I cannot be independent?”

So Avva made a decision. She would learn the Kannada alphabet, starting the very next day. She set Saraswati Puja day during Dassara as her deadline. By then she wanted to read a novel on her own.

The girl laughed at her at first — sixty-two, grey hair, wrinkled hands, busy in the kitchen all day. But Avva just smiled and said, “For a good cause if you are determined, you can overcome any obstacle. For learning there is no age bar.”

And she did it. She was a wonderful student — she read, repeated, wrote and recited, day after day. On Dassara, the grandmother called the girl to the puja, gave her a gift, and then did something shocking: she bent down and touched the girl’s feet. Elders never touch the feet of children. But Avva said she was touching the feet of a teacher, not her granddaughter — a teacher deserves respect, whatever their age or gender. The girl gave her a copy of Kashi Yatre as a gift. Avva opened it and read the title and the author’s name right away. Her teacher knew then that her student had “passed with flying colours.”

The full plot, shown as a story mountain, is in Figure 1.1 below — it walks from the calm opening up to the big decision and down to the moving ending.

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The Text, Explained

This is a recent, in-copyright story by a living author, so we cannot reprint the whole text here. Read the full original in your Kaveri textbook alongside this section. Below, we take the key moments in order and explain each one in plain language, quoting only a line or two where it helps.

📖 Where to read the original: The complete story is in your NCERT Kaveri (Grade 9) textbook, Chapter 1. For copyright reasons we do not reproduce the full text here. Use this explanation to understand it deeply as you read.

The setting and the waiting. The story opens in a village in north Karnataka. Transport was slow, so newspapers and the weekly magazine always arrived late. The whole household waited eagerly for the bus. Why does this matter? It tells us the magazine was a big event — the most exciting thing of the week. That is why one missed episode could hurt so much later.

The novel within the story. We learn about Triveni, a much-loved Kannada writer, and her serial Kashi Yatre — the tale of an old lady who longs to visit Kashi but, in the end, gives her savings to a poor orphan girl’s wedding. This little summary is not just background. It is a mirror of the grandmother’s own life, as we will see.

Avva, the listener. The grandmother “never went to school so she could not read.” Each Wednesday the girl read the new episode to her. Avva would “forget all her work and listen with the greatest concentration,” and could later “repeat the entire text by heart.” She “identified herself with the novel’s protagonist.” Why so attached? Because she sees herself in that old lady. The story is, for her, the story of her own unreachable dreams.

The week away, and the tears. The girl goes to a wedding and stays a week. She returns to find her grandmother “in tears” — and adds, “I had never seen her cry even in the most difficult situations.” That single line tells us how strong Avva normally is, which makes her crying even more powerful. Something has shaken a very tough woman.

The midnight confession. That night, on the open terrace under a full moon, Avva tells the girl her life: she lost her mother young, was never sent to school because “people never considered education essential for girls,” married young, and stayed busy with children and grandchildren. Then comes the heart of it. While the girl was away, the new episode came and Avva could not read it. She says, “Many times I rubbed my hands over the pages wishing they could understand what was written.” She was too embarrassed to ask a neighbour. Her conclusion is the story’s most important line: “We are well-off, but what use is money when I cannot be independent?”

The decision. Avva announces, “I have decided I want to learn the Kannada alphabet from tomorrow onwards.” She fixes Saraswati Puja during Dassara as her deadline. The girl laughs at her — “at this age of sixty-two?” But Avva simply smiles and replies, “For a good cause if you are determined, you can overcome any obstacle… For learning there is no age bar.” This is the moral of the story, spoken by the grandmother herself.

The hard work and the result. The girl becomes the teacher; the grandmother her “first student.” Avva “would read, repeat, write, and recite.” She did an “amazing” amount of homework. By Dassara she had succeeded.

The role reversal. At the puja, Avva gives the girl a gift and then bends down and touches her feet. The narrator is “taken aback” — “Elders never touch the feet of youngsters.” Avva explains she is touching “the feet of a teacher, not my granddaughter,” because a teacher must be respected “irrespective of the gender and age.” The girl returns the namaskara, gives Avva a copy of Kashi Yatre, and Avva reads the title at once. “My student had passed with flying colours.”

Themes

This short story is packed with big ideas. Let us look at the four main ones. Figure 1.2 below gathers them on one page, each with a line from the story that proves it.

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Learning has no age limit. This is the loudest theme. Avva is sixty-two. She has grey hair, wrinkled hands, and a kitchen full of work. By every excuse we usually make, she is “too old.” She proves all those excuses wrong. Why does this matter in real life? Because many people give up on learning something new — a language, a skill, reading — simply because they feel they have missed the chance. The story says clearly: the only thing you really need is determination.

Education brings independence. Notice that Avva is not poor. She says, “We are well-off.” So why does she feel helpless? Because money cannot read a page for you. Only you can do that. Being unable to read made her depend on others for something small and private. This is the deeper point: education is not only about jobs or money. It is about being able to do things for yourself, with dignity.

Respect is earned, not handed out by age. At the end, the older woman bows to the younger girl. This breaks a strong social rule. The story is telling us that the role of a teacher deserves respect, no matter who fills it. A teacher can be twelve years old. A student can be sixty-two.

A bond across generations. The warmth between the grandmother and grandchild runs through the whole story. They share a story each week, a secret on the terrace at midnight, and finally the joy of learning. The relationship is loving and equal, even as their roles as teacher and student swap.

The Grandmother — Krishtakka (Avva)

The grandmother is the heart of this story. To understand the story, you must understand her. She is not a weak old lady to be pitied. She is strong, proud, and determined. Figure 1.3 below maps her four main qualities, each with proof from the text.

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Look at each quality. She is determined — once she decides to learn, nothing stops her, and she works harder than anybody. She is self-respecting — being dependent shames her, and she wants to stand on her own feet. She is emotionally open — she cries, and trusts a twelve-year-old with her deepest regret. And she is humble — even after succeeding, she bows to her young teacher.

Now here is a “why” the textbook does not explain. Why was Avva too embarrassed to simply ask a neighbour to read the episode for her?

A neighbour could have read it in two minutes. So why suffer in silence? Slow down and think about it from her side. Asking would mean admitting, out loud, in front of someone outside the family, “I cannot read.” For a proud woman, every such request is a small wound. It reminds her of the school she was never sent to. With her own granddaughter it felt safe and loving. With a neighbour it felt like begging. That is why she waited, and cried, instead of asking. Her embarrassment is not silly — it is the pain of someone who hates feeling helpless.

The Narrator — the twelve-year-old girl

The narrator is the young Sudha Murty. She is curious, loving, and a little childish at first — she actually laughs at her grandmother’s plan. But she becomes a patient, caring teacher. Her teasing is not cruelty; it is a child who simply cannot imagine an old person starting from the alphabet. By the end she has grown too. She learns to see her grandmother not as “just Avva” but as a determined human being. The little detail that she later became a real Computer Science teacher who taught hundreds of students gives the memory a gentle, full-circle warmth.

Setting

The story is set in a village in north Karnataka, decades ago. The setting is not just a backdrop — it shapes everything.

First, the slow village transport is why the weekly magazine is such a treasured event, and why missing one episode matters so much. Second, the time and place explain why Avva never learned to read: “In those days people never considered education essential for girls.” Her lack of schooling is not her fault — it is the result of an old attitude in that society. The full moon, the open terrace, the temple courtyard, the Dassara puja — all these details make the world feel real, gentle, and rooted in tradition. That tradition is exactly what makes the feet-touching at the end so striking.

Literary Devices

Sudha Murty writes in a simple, warm style, but she still uses a few clear devices. Let us name each one and see how it works.

Irony means a result that is the opposite of what we expect. The biggest irony here is at the end: an elder touches the feet of a child. Tradition expects the reverse. Why does the writer do this? The surprise makes us stop and think hard about what respect really means. Figure 1.4 below shows this reversal side by side.

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Symbolism is when one thing stands for a bigger idea. Learning the alphabet symbolises freedom and self-respect for Avva — it is much more than just A, B, C. The novel Kashi Yatre symbolises Avva’s own unreached dreams.

Allusion is a passing reference to something well known. Kashi Yatre and the wish to worship Lord Vishweshwara at Kashi are real cultural and religious references that Indian readers recognise at once. They tell us Avva is a traditional, devout woman.

The story-within-a-story (a mirror). The novel Avva loves reflects her own life. This is a clever device — the inner story quietly explains the outer one. Figure 1.5 below places the two side by side so you can see how closely they match.

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Direct speech and a personal voice. The whole story is told in the first person (“When I was a girl…”), and the characters speak in their own words. This makes the memory feel honest and close, as if a friend is telling you something that really happened to her.

The “Why” Behind the Choices

This is the part to think about deeply. Let us close the gaps the story leaves quiet.

Why does Avva choose Saraswati Puja during Dassara as her deadline? This is not random. Saraswati is the goddess of learning and knowledge. Setting that day as her goal is beautifully fitting — she wants to honour the goddess of learning by actually learning. It also gives her a fixed, sacred target to work towards, which keeps her determined.

Why does the girl laugh at first — and why is that important? Her laughter stands in for the doubt that all of us feel: “Isn’t it too late?” The story lets that doubt speak out loud, and then defeats it with Avva’s calm reply. If no one had doubted Avva, her victory would feel smaller. The doubt makes the triumph real.

Why end with the feet-touching instead of just “she could read”? Because the writer wants to leave us with the deepest lesson, not just a happy result. Avva reading is the achievement. Avva bowing to her teacher is the meaning. It says: knowledge deserves respect, the bond of guru and student is sacred, and that bond does not care about age. That image stays in your mind long after the plot fades — which is exactly what the writer wants.

Common Misreadings

Some parts of this story are easy to read the wrong way. Let us clear up the most common ones. First, a very frequent mix-up about why Avva felt so bad.

Next, a misreading about the girl’s laughter.

Now a misreading about the feet-touching at the end.

Finally, a misreading about the novel Kashi Yatre.

Quick Check

Let us pause and test the main ideas with two quick questions. First, on the grandmother’s real problem.

Now, on the meaning of the ending.

Practice (Exam-style)

Now let us practise answering the way an exam expects. Try each one yourself first, then open the model answer.

Short Answer

Begin with a question about the grandmother’s character.

Next, a question about the title and the role swap.

Long Answer / Reference to Context

Now a longer question that asks you to discuss the message. Let us first plan how to build a full answer.

Now write your own full answer to this related question, then check it.

Finally, a reference-to-context question on the ending.

Summary

Here is what you should now be able to explain on your own:

• The plot: a girl reads a serial novel to her unlettered grandmother; when the girl is away, the grandmother cannot read an episode, and so she decides to learn the alphabet at sixty-two and succeeds.
• Who the grandmother is: Krishtakka (“Avva”) — strong, proud, self-respecting, determined, emotionally open, and humble.
• Why she cries and why she chooses to learn: not from poverty but from the helplessness of depending on others to read; she wants to be independent.
• The role of Kashi Yatre: the inner novel mirrors Avva’s own life and is the spark that pushes her to learn.
• The main themes: learning has no age limit; education brings independence and self-respect; respect for a teacher does not depend on age or gender; and the warm bond across generations.
• The meaning of the ending: the grandmother touching her young teacher’s feet is an act of gratitude and respect for learning, not of inferiority — a striking role reversal.
• The key line and its lesson: “For learning there is no age bar.”

What’s Next

This story celebrated learning, effort, and respect across generations. Next, you will read a very different kind of tale — one about a craftsman, his work, and the surprises hidden in everyday life. Carry forward the same habit of asking why a character acts as they do.

Chapter 2 — The Pot Maker