Chapter 1: Aarti Has an Exam
The train was moving fast across the green fields of Kerala. The sun was setting, and the sky outside the window turned orange. Inside the train, Aarti sat with a worried face. Her notebook lay open in front of her, but the pages were mostly empty. She had a pen in her hand, but she was not writing. Instead, she pressed her forehead with her palm. Her head hurt badly.
In just two days, Aarti would sit for the IELTS Academic exam in Kochi. She had worked hard for months, but now that the exam was so near, she felt nervous and afraid. The part that scared her most was Writing Task 1.
“I don’t know what to do, Mona,” Aarti said, her voice weak. “The charts, the graphs, the tables—they confuse me. I can never write the introduction properly. And look at me now, I even have a headache.”
Her friend Mona sat beside her, trying to look cheerful. She was also going to take the IELTS test, but she was not as nervous as Aarti. “Don’t worry so much, Aarti. You have studied well. You know the basics. You just need to calm down,” she said kindly.
But Aarti shook her head. “You don’t understand, Mona. Task 1 always feels like a puzzle. I look at the chart, but my mind goes blank. And then I waste too much time on the introduction. Without a good start, the rest of the answer becomes weak.”
She turned the notebook towards Mona. On one page, she had written down a sample IELTS question:
“The chart below shows the percentage of households in different income groups that had internet access between 1998 and 2018.”
Below it, she had written her attempt at the introduction:
“The graph shows people using internet in different income groups for many years.”
“See? This is all I can write,” Aarti said with a sigh. “It looks childish. It doesn’t sound academic. The examiner will think I don’t know English.”
Her headache grew worse. The sound of the train wheels seemed louder. She put the notebook aside and leaned her head against the window.
Mona picked up the notebook and read the sentence again. “Hmm… I see what you mean. But the problem is not as big as you think.”
Aarti looked at her friend doubtfully. “What do you mean?”
Mona smiled. “Writing Task 1 introduction is actually very simple. You only need to do one thing—rephrase the question. Don’t copy it exactly, but write the same idea using different words. That way, it sounds formal and academic.”
“But rephrasing is difficult,” Aarti said, rubbing her forehead.
“It’s not that hard,” Mona explained. She read the question again and then spoke slowly: “Instead of writing your version, you could say: ‘The bar chart illustrates the proportion of households across income groups with internet access between 1998 and 2018.’ See? Same meaning, different words.”
Aarti’s eyes widened. “That… that really sounds better. It looks like a proper exam answer.”
“Yes!” Mona said happily. “That’s all you need to do in the introduction. Mention the type of chart or graph, the main subject, and the time period if it is given. Nothing more, nothing less.”
For a moment, Aarti felt lighter. She picked up her pen and tried to write Mona’s version. It looked neat on the page. She even added another example:
“The line graph compares the percentage of people using trains in three cities from 1990 to 2020.”
It felt more professional than before.
But then the throbbing pain in her head returned. She placed the pen down again and said weakly, “Even if I understand this, how can I concentrate with this headache? My brain feels heavy. How will I study tomorrow?”
Mona’s face turned serious. “That is a problem. You need medicine, Aarti. Without it, you can’t focus on IELTS or anything else.”
“Medicine? On this train?” Aarti asked in surprise.
“Why not? On Indian trains, there is always someone who knows something. Maybe even a doctor is travelling with us,” Mona replied. “We should go and ask the train staff, or check in other coaches.”
Aarti hesitated. The train was crowded, and walking through so many coaches with her pounding head did not sound easy. “What if there is no doctor?” she asked.
Mona gave a little smile. “Then at least we will try. But who knows, maybe we will be lucky. Maybe the doctor will not only give you medicine, but also help you with IELTS. After all, teachers come in many forms.”
Aarti let out a small laugh despite her pain. “You always think positively. I wish I could be like you.”
The train rattled on, carrying them closer to Kochi. Outside, the fields faded into the night, but inside, Aarti’s worry grew. Two days. Only two days left for the exam. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
Still, Mona’s words stayed in her mind: Rephrase the question. Keep it simple. Mention the chart, the subject, and the time.
Maybe this was the first small step towards mastering Task 1. But for now, she needed a doctor. Without relief from her headache, even the simplest lesson would feel impossible.
And so, as the train rolled into the darkness, Aarti and Mona decided: tomorrow, they would search for a doctor.
Chapter 2: In Search of a Doctor
The night deepened as the train raced on, its long whistle echoing through the quiet fields. Inside, the yellow lights flickered in the coaches, and passengers settled into their seats with dinner packets, steel flasks, and soft pillows. But for Aarti, there was no peace. Her headache had grown sharper. Every sound—the baby crying, the vendors shouting “chai, chai,” the steady thud of the wheels—felt heavier in her head.
“I can’t take this anymore, Mona,” she whispered, pressing her forehead. “We must find a doctor. Otherwise, tomorrow I won’t be able to study at all.”
Mona nodded. “Let’s go then. There must be someone on this train. We’ll ask.”
So the two girls stood up, leaving their bags under the watchful eyes of a kind old lady sitting nearby. Step by step, they moved from their coach into the next one. The walkway was narrow, and people sat on the edges with their luggage. Aarti felt dizzy, but Mona held her hand firmly.
They stopped at the first passenger. “Excuse me,” Mona said politely to a man reading a newspaper, “do you know if there is a doctor on this train?”
The man looked up with surprise. “A doctor? I am not sure. You can ask the ticket examiner.”
They thanked him and moved on. In the next row, a young woman shook her head. “I don’t know, but sometimes doctors travel. Try asking in other coaches.”
And so the search began. Coach after coach, they asked strangers the same question. Some gave blank looks, others shrugged. A few said, “Maybe in the front coaches.”
By the time they reached Coach 5, Aarti was exhausted. She leaned against the door, her head spinning. “Mona, maybe this is useless. Let’s go back.”
But Mona squeezed her arm. “No, Aarti. Just a little more. Don’t give up.”
Finally, in Coach 8, they heard the words that gave them hope. A middle-aged man sitting near the window said, “Yes, there’s a lady doctor here. She’s in the next compartment. But she’s busy now. Many people go to her for advice.”
Relief washed over Aarti’s face. With slow steps, she and Mona reached the compartment. Indeed, there was a small line of people waiting near one berth. A woman in a simple cotton saree, wearing glasses, sat with a stethoscope around her neck and a small medical kit by her side. Her calm face and serious eyes gave her an air of quiet confidence.
“Please wait,” she said politely when Mona asked. “I will see you after this patient.”
So they waited. Another man was already sitting with her, describing his chest pain. She listened patiently, gave him some medicine, and wrote a note for him to show at a hospital later. Then she looked up at Aarti and Mona. “Come, what happened?”
Aarti sat down nervously. “Doctor, I… I have a headache. Since evening. It’s not going away.”
The doctor checked her pulse, asked a few questions, and gave her a small tablet with water. “It’s nothing serious, just tension. Rest and hydration will help.”
“Thank you, doctor,” Aarti said gratefully.
But before they could leave, Mona, who had been watching silently, suddenly said, “Doctor, my friend is also very worried about her IELTS exam. That is why she got the headache in the first place.”
The doctor raised her eyebrows. “IELTS? You are taking it in Kochi?”
“Yes,” Aarti said quickly. “In two days. I am very nervous, especially about Writing Task 1. I can’t handle charts and graphs.”
The doctor’s eyes softened, and she leaned back slightly. “Ah… IELTS. I know this pain well. Years ago, I also sat for the exam before going to the UK. I struggled, just like you. Writing gave me sleepless nights.”
“You… you cleared IELTS?” Aarti asked with sudden interest.
The doctor smiled. “Yes. And not just cleared, I scored very high in Writing. Do you know why? Because I had a trainer who taught me a simple but powerful method. It was called the IBLE Method.”
Mona tilted her head. “IBLE? What is that?”
The doctor chuckled softly. “Patience, my dear. I will explain it step by step. IBLE is a framework for Writing Task 1 and Task 2. It makes your answers clear, structured, and easy for examiners to follow. But I won’t reveal it all at once. Tonight you must rest. Tomorrow, if you come back, I will tell you the first step.”
Aarti felt a spark of curiosity she hadn’t felt in weeks. “Please, doctor, just tell me a little now. At least what IBLE stands for.”
The doctor shook her head gently. “Not tonight. Learning must be done slowly, like medicine taken in doses. Too much at once is harmful. I promise, I will explain. For now, know this—every great answer begins with a structure. Without structure, even good English becomes weak.”
Mona smiled. “Then we will surely come tomorrow. Right, Aarti?”
Aarti nodded eagerly. The headache seemed lighter now, not only because of the tablet, but because of the doctor’s words. For the first time, she felt a ray of hope. Maybe there was a secret key to IELTS Writing, and maybe she was about to discover it.
As they walked back to their coach, the sound of the train seemed less harsh, the night less heavy. Aarti whispered, “Mona, do you think this IBLE method will really help?”
Mona replied with quiet confidence, “If the doctor believes in it, then it must be special. Tomorrow we’ll find out.”
And so the night passed, with Aarti’s mind not on her pain, but on the four mysterious letters—IBLE—that might change her IELTS journey forever.
Chapter 3: IBLE for Writing Task 1
The train swayed gently as it moved through the night. The yellow tube-lights above flickered now and then, and passengers around them were beginning to settle down. Some were already asleep with blankets pulled up; others whispered quietly, their voices mixing with the steady sound of the wheels.
Aarti sat close to the doctor, her notebook open, pen ready. Her headache had almost gone, but her nervousness about IELTS was still there. Yet, something felt different tonight. She was finally about to learn the secret of IBLE.
The doctor adjusted her glasses and smiled. “So, Aarti, yesterday I promised to tell you about the IBLE method. Let us begin. IBLE stands for:
- I = Introduction
- B = Body Paragraphs
- L = Language
- E = Ending
But tonight, I will only explain the first two: Introduction and Body. If I explain all four at once, it will only confuse you. We will take it step by step.”
Aarti nodded quickly. “Yes, Doctor. I am ready. Please tell me.”
Mona, however, was less interested. She leaned back against the window, scrolling through her phone. A few minutes later, it rang, and she excused herself, walking out into the narrow corridor to answer. Aarti knew her friend’s duty as a police officer often followed her everywhere. Tonight would be no different.
I = Introduction
The doctor leaned closer. “Now listen carefully. The introduction in Writing Task 1 is the easiest part, but many students make mistakes. They copy the question exactly, or they add unnecessary details. Both are wrong. The rule is simple: You must paraphrase the question. That means, say the same thing in different words.”
She took Aarti’s notebook and wrote the original IELTS question:
“The chart below shows the percentage of households in different income groups that had internet access between 1998 and 2018.”
Then she wrote two different introductions.
-
Weak Introduction: “The chart shows people using internet in different income groups for many years.”
-
Strong Introduction: “The bar chart illustrates the proportion of households in various income categories with internet access between 1998 and 2018.”
She looked at Aarti. “Can you see the difference?”
“Yes, Doctor,” Aarti said eagerly. “The weak one sounds too casual. The strong one sounds formal and accurate.”
“Exactly,” the doctor replied. “That is grammar and vocabulary. Use academic words like illustrates, proportion, categories, instead of everyday words like shows, people, groups. This makes your introduction look professional.”
Aarti scribbled everything into her notebook, underlining illustrates twice.
The doctor continued, “So remember, your introduction has one purpose: to restate the question in formal English. One or two sentences. Nothing more.”
B = Body Paragraphs
The doctor took a deep breath before moving on. “Now comes the B—Body Paragraphs. This is where most students fail. They try to describe everything at once, and their writing becomes messy. Instead, divide your answer into two short paragraphs.”
She drew two rectangles on the page and labeled them Body 1 and Body 2.
“In Body 1, you give the overall trend or main feature. That means the big picture. What do you notice first? Does the number rise? Does it fall? Is one group higher than the others? This is where you use grammar like the simple present tense or past tense, depending on the years.”
She wrote:
“Overall, internet access increased steadily in all income groups over the period.”
“See? Only one sentence, but it tells the big story.”
Aarti nodded, her eyes shining.
The doctor continued, “Then, in Body 2, you give the details. Numbers, comparisons, years, percentages. This is where you use your vocabulary—rose from… to…, was higher than, remained steady, showed a slight decline.”
She gave an example:
“In 1998, around 10% of low-income households had internet access, compared to nearly 40% of high-income households. By 2018, these figures rose to 60% and 95% respectively.”
“Notice how I compared groups and gave exact numbers,” the doctor explained. “This is how the examiner knows you understood the chart.”
Aarti’s hand moved quickly, writing down every word. She read it aloud softly: “Body 1—overall trend. Body 2—details and comparisons. Got it.”
The doctor smiled. “Good. And one more thing—grammar. Be careful with tenses. If the years are in the past, use past tense: rose, increased, declined. If the chart shows the present, use present tense: rises, increases. The examiner checks this carefully.”
“Now, Aarti,” the doctor said, “I want you to try. Write one introduction and one body sentence for this question:
‘The line graph shows the number of international students in Australia between 2000 and 2020.’”
Aarti thought for a moment, then wrote:
“The line graph illustrates the number of overseas students in Australia from 2000 to 2020.”
The doctor smiled. “Excellent introduction. Now the body—overall trend.”
Aarti wrote:
“Overall, the number of students increased during the period.”
“Good,” the doctor nodded. “Now a detail.”
Aarti added:
“In 2000, there were about 20,000 students, and this figure rose sharply to 150,000 by 2020.”
“Well done,” the doctor said warmly. “That is IB—Introduction and Body. You are already improving.”
Just then, Mona returned, sliding her phone back into her pocket. She looked slightly tired. “Sorry, duty never leaves me alone,” she muttered, sitting down. Then she glanced at Aarti’s notebook. “So, how many secrets of IBLE have you learned already?”
Aarti grinned. “Two—Introduction and Body. And I feel so much better. It actually looks easy now.”
Mona laughed. “Good for you. At least one of us is having fun tonight.”
The doctor chuckled softly, adjusting her saree. “Patience, Mona. This method may look boring now, but it is powerful. Tonight we have finished I and B. In the next step, we will discuss L—Language. That is where the real beauty of writing lies.”
Aarti’s eyes shone with curiosity. “I can’t wait for that.”
And as the train rolled deeper into the night, she realized her fear of IELTS was slowly turning into excitement.
