Class 6 English Chapter 11: The Winner

Who is speaking

The voice in this poem belongs to a child who is playing. It says we and our, so the speaker is inside the game rather than watching it. That choice matters, because everything is described from within.

When and where

Evenings, in a field that belongs to a neighbour, beside a creek. Three small facts, and the whole setting is built. Nothing else about the place is ever given.

What a creek tells you

A creek is a small body of water, a stream or an inlet. Its presence places the field somewhere open, well away from a city courtyard. That is a great deal of work for one short word.

A field that is not theirs

The field belongs to a neighbour. Children playing in somebody else's field is a very ordinary arrangement, and the poem does not make anything of it. Nobody objects, and nobody asks permission.

The game itself

They play ball. That is all we are told, and no sport is ever named, so every reader supplies whatever game they know best. Your game and mine will not be the same game.

Running

They run so fast that the speaker cannot catch her breath. It is the only description of the playing, and it is enough. One line, and you can see the whole evening.

Then the light starts to go

Now the poem turns. Nothing is announced and nobody says it is late, but the evening begins to close in. The change arrives through the world rather than through a person.

The first signal

Blue dark turns to black. That is the sky losing the last of its colour, and it is the stage of dusk that has no clock time attached to it. It happens earlier in winter and later in summer.

Why blue dark is a good phrase

It names something you have seen a hundred times and probably never named. It is already dark, and it is not black yet. Most people have seen it a thousand times without a name for it.

The second signal

Cold grass aches their feet. The cold has been rising out of the ground for a while, and it has now reached the point of hurting. This signal is felt rather than seen.

The third signal

The trees creep close. They have not moved, of course. As the light fails, the space between the children and the trees stops being visible. So the trees appear to have come nearer, without moving at all.

Three senses, one message

One signal is seen, one is felt, and one is a trick of the eye. All three arrive together, and all three say the same thing. Three different senses, and one message between them.

The game is over

And so it ends. Nobody calls the score. Nobody has beaten anybody. The children simply stop, because they can no longer see what they are doing. It is the most ordinary ending an evening game can have.

The last line

Night wins. Two words, and they change everything above them. Read them, then read the poem again.

What that does

The evening has been turned into an opponent, and the children have been playing against it all along without knowing. The exclamation mark keeps it cheerful rather than sad. The exclamation mark keeps it cheerful.

Back to the title

Now look again at the name of the poem. The Winner was always the night, and the title had been telling you so before you read a word. There was no way of seeing it until the end.

Scenario:

A class reads the poem and comes to the line about the trees creeping closer. Two pupils raise their hands at once. Sahil asks whether this is a scary poem, since the trees are moving in on the children. Anu says the trees cannot be moving, and that the children are not frightened of anything in the poem. She says they are simply losing the light. Sahil answers that the poem says the trees creep closer, and that the words are right there on the page. Their teacher asks the class what happens to a row of trees at the far end of a field as the sky goes from blue dark to black.

Analysis:

Both pupils read the line correctly. Only one of them asked what would make it true.

Activity:

Find the other two signals of time passing and say what is really happening in each.

Title:

Tell the time without a clock

What You Notice:

Somebody else reading your lines can usually tell how late it got, even though no number appears anywhere. The lines that work best are the ones about sound and cold, not the ones about light, because everybody writes about light and it quickly sounds the same. That is exactly why the aching grass is the strongest of the poem's three signals.

The poem is by Georgia Heard, and it does not rhyme anywhere. Its effect comes from the way the lines are broken instead.

A creek is a small stream or inlet. Its presence tells you the field is somewhere open, not a courtyard in a city.

Blue dark is not a standard phrase. The poet built it to name the stage of dusk that still has colour in it.

The three signals — SKY - GRASS - TREES — Colour going, cold rising, distance closing. Three different senses telling them the same thing.

Who wins — Nobody scored. Night still won. — The only contest in the poem is between the children and the dark, and the dark is undefeated.

A poem chooses its own edges

Prose runs to the edge of the page and stops because it has run out of room. A poem does not. The poet decides where every line ends. Every one of those endings is a decision.

What a break asks for

Each ending asks the reader to pause for a moment, even where there is no comma and no full stop. A break is a breath. That is the only tool a poet has for controlling speed.

Now look at this poem

Somewhere in the middle is a short sentence about not being able to catch your breath. On the page it is not written as one line. It could easily have been, and it is not.

How it is set out

It is broken across six lines. Most of them carry a single word, and the last of them carries only the word breath. That last one makes the longest pause in the poem.

Read it aloud

You have to stop six times inside six words. By the end of it you are pausing more than you are speaking. Try it aloud and you will hear it at once.

What that does to you

You do not simply read that the speaker cannot catch her breath. You are made slightly breathless yourself by the act of reading it. No amount of description could have managed that.

The layout is doing the work

That is the point. The shape on the page is not decoration around the meaning. It is performing the meaning. The poem shows you rather than telling you.

Another way to use shape

Your book gives a second example: leaves that are falling, and falling, and falling, with each falling on its own line. The same idea, used for a different purpose.

Why that lasts longer

Three words in a row are over quickly. Three words down a page take three pauses, so the falling goes on and on, which is exactly how falling leaves look. The shape gives the falling time.

Now the second idea

The poem ends with two words. Night wins. It is worth stopping on them, because something unusual has just happened. Two very short words, carrying the whole poem.

Who can win

Winning is something a person does. Giving it to the night means treating the night as somebody who was in the game. The evening becomes a player rather than a setting.

You have met this before

You have seen it already, in the poem about the bird, where the leaves whispered and the flowers danced. Here it has been given a whole title to carry. That is a heavier job than a single line.

And once more in the same poem

The trees creep close. Creeping is something a living thing does quietly and on purpose, and trees do none of that. So this poem lends out two human actions, not one.

The book's other example

The sun, says the book, played hide-and-seek with the clouds. Nobody thinks the sun is playing a game, and everybody knows exactly what that sentence means. Being untrue is not the same as being unclear.

Why it is worth doing

It lets a writer describe something in the reader's own terms. You know what winning feels like, so you know at once what the dark did to the game. The reader's own experience does the explaining.

And the last small thing

The poem uses the word creek, which is one kind of water body. Your book then asks you to collect others: a stream, a pond, a river, a lake, a canal, the sea. Sorting them by size is the quickest way to hold them.

Scenario:

A teacher writes a single sentence on the board: the rain fell all night. She asks three pupils to set it out as poetry. Asha writes it as one line exactly as it is. Bharat breaks it after the word rain, giving two lines. Chitra puts each of the five words on its own line, so the sentence runs down the board. The teacher then asks three different pupils to read each version aloud to the class. All three versions use exactly the same five words, in exactly the same order, and nobody has changed a letter. The class agrees that the three readings sounded nothing like each other.

Analysis:

Same words, same order, three different poems. The only thing that changed was where the reader was asked to stop.

Activity:

Take any sentence of your own and set it out three different ways, then read all three to a partner and ask which they preferred.

Title:

Break it and read it

What You Notice:

The one-word version always takes longest, and it almost never suits an ordinary sentence. It works only when the meaning is about slowness, or struggle, or something being drawn out, which is exactly the case with the breathless lines in this poem. A device that fits one sentence perfectly can ruin the next one.

A poem's shape on the page is often the first thing a reader notices, before a single word has been read.

This poem has no rhyme and no regular rhythm, so the line breaks are carrying almost all of its effect.

What a line break does — A break is a breath — Every line ending asks for a small pause, even where no comma or full stop appears.

Spotting personification — Who could really do that? — Winning, creeping and playing hide-and-seek are all things people do. Ask who could really do it, and the answer gives you away.

Four riddles, no names

You listen to four riddles and work out which sport each one is describing. Not one of them ever says the name. The name is the single thing they withhold.

What a riddle gives you instead

An action to picture. Sometimes a piece of equipment. Sometimes a place. You collect those and decide for yourself. Three kinds of clue, and you may not get all three.

The first one

Running and passing, a ball that is black and white, and a goal to kick it into. Even the mud is a clue, because it tells you where the game is played. Outdoors, and on ground that can get wet.

The second

Holding your breath, a chant of hu-tu-tu, touching one or two people, and getting back to your own side. That is kabaddi, and every line of it is a rule of the game. A riddle built entirely out of a rulebook.

The third

Holding your breath again, cool water, arms turning and legs kicking, and a blue pool. This one is swimming. Four clues, and three of them belong to nothing else.

The shared clue

Notice that riddles two and three both ask you to hold your breath. On that clue alone you could not choose between them. One clue is never enough, which is the lesson here. One clue is never enough. It is the water, the pool and the kicking that separate the swimmer from the kabaddi player, and you only hear those if you listen to the whole riddle.

The fourth

Breathing in and out, practising every day, and growing healthy and strong. This one is not a sport at all. It is a set of breathing exercises. Nothing is won, and the reward is being healthy.

Then the speaking

Now you act out three short scenes between a parent and a child. Each one is given to you as a situation with two moods attached. One mood for the parent, and one for the child.

Coming home late

The parent is upset and the child is explaining. Two different things are wanted in the same conversation, which is what makes it worth acting. An explanation on one side, and understanding on the other.

Sharing the games

The child is excited and the parent is asking with interest. Here nobody is in trouble, and the energy comes from one person wanting to know more. Interest is as strong a want as anger.

Bringing a friend home

The child introduces and the parent welcomes. This is the shortest of the three, and it is the one where the words people use matter most. Introducing somebody badly is worse than not introducing them.

What all three have in common

Both sides want something. Take the parent's interest away from the second scene and the child talks into silence. There would be nothing left to act.

Then the writing

A paragraph about your own playtime, built from six clues: when you go out, who you play with, what you play, which game you like best. Four facts, easily answered.

The fifth clue

Then it asks what you gain from playing together. Read that again, because it is the only one that is not a fact about your day. Anybody watching you could answer the other five. Nobody else can answer the fifth, and it is the sentence a reader will remember. Anybody watching you could supply the other five.

And the title

The last clue is when you stop and go home, and then you give the paragraph a title. Choose it after you have written, when you know what came out. A title chosen first usually stops fitting.

Finally, games of your own place

The chapter ends by asking about indigenous games, which are games native to a particular region. Kho-kho is the example, and your state will have others. Ask an elder which games belong to your own place.

Scenario:

A teacher reads the four riddles aloud. As soon as she reaches the words about holding your breath in the second riddle, Farhan puts his hand up and says swimming. The teacher asks him to wait and finishes the riddle, which goes on to mention a chant, touching one or two people, and running back to your own side. Farhan changes his answer to kabaddi. A few minutes later the third riddle also begins with holding your breath, and this time nobody guesses at all. The class hears about cool water and a blue pool before anybody speaks, and then several hands go up together.

Analysis:

The same opening clue produced a wrong answer and then a right one. Nothing changed except how long the class waited.

Activity:

Write two riddles that begin with the same clue and end differently, and read both to a partner to see where they commit to an answer.

Title:

A riddle for your own game

What You Notice:

A riddle guessed on the first line has its clues in the wrong order, and one that nobody guesses has no particular clue in it at all. Shared clues are what make a riddle worth hearing to the end, which is exactly why two of the book's four begin the same way.

Indigenous games are native to a particular region, and kho-kho is the example the chapter gives.

Kabaddi players once had to chant while raiding, which is why one of the riddles gives you a sound rather than an action.

Solving a listening riddle — ACTION - THING - PLACE — What are you doing, what are you using, and where are you. Collect all three before you answer.

Making a role-play work — Two wants, not one — The parent wants an explanation. The child wants to be understood. Take either away and there is nothing to act.