rtt0652
You know when your child is unwell and you pray "give me his illness, but make him better."?
Today puru has an English literature exam. That poor boy just cannot find words. His writing is at the level of a 4th standard child. Eng lit in IGCSE is all about paraphrasing and flowery interpretations of events, critical thinking of poems and making compelling literary arguments. My poor boy reads the unseen passage and says "ok now what?" Then when he has to paraphrase "Peter was sad," into versions of "unhappy, sanguine, distraught" he says "Peter was very very sad."
One of the biggest hurdles in dyslexia is that words elude them. He reads, he writes, but he can't pad up something, add confetti, stuffing, bows and ribbons and parcel it off. Retrieval is his biggest enemy.
His mother loves words. She can create world's beyond this one, and conjures them up in a heartbeat, before she goes to live in them.
Imagine how she feels.
Take my kidney. It pains me to see him struggle. He frowns, he scours his mind for a synonym. He gives up. He hasn't passed a single eng lit exam till date.
Today is eng lit.