Subramaniam had no idea where he had been. All he could remember was the shipwreck and the lifeboat which he was pushed on to along with a few others. The huge waves that tossed the boat up and down. When he opened his eyes a few men, naked except for the rags tied round their groins, were standing round his staring into his eyes. There was fear in those eyes as much as curiosity. A couple of the men carried a bow and arrow each. It didn’t take him long to realise that he had landed up on the island of some primitive people. His ship had wrecked in the South Indian Ocean. The people spoke a language that was curiously similar to Subramaniam’s own. After all, his was a classical language, one of the oldest in the sub-continent called India, one which withstood many onslaughts from languages of the North. At any rate, his ability to communicate with the island people did not surprise Subramaniam too much since he had read Gulliver’s Travels and knew that Gulliver co
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