Yet another MARVEL by our writing genius, Usama Gohar, of class AS Level. A touching story that would keep your minds hooked up till the end. That’s what you call ‘suspense’. The topic was originally meant for O’ level boys, yet Usama Gohar was dragged in just to be ‘a minaret of light’ for his juniors. I believe he’s done full justice to this situational topic. Enjoy! (Humayun)

Despite my devoted care, I could not save that boy from dying.

I was drenched in blood, most of which was not my own. Amidst the storm, nothing could be seen. Maybe that’s why our cars had collided with an ear-splitting bang. I had been quick to jump out in time. I kneeled and gazed around; nothing could be made out amidst the hail storm, apart from the three – presumably lifeless – figures. 

It took me a minute to realize that my left leg had been shattered. Relentlessly, I stood up and limped all the way to where the other three bodies lay – which wasn’t very far but still took a lot of effort on my part.

It took me some time to realize that there were two bodies when I could clearly recall seeing three figures inside the car just before our cars had had a collision. It was then that my ears made out the hushed breathes mixed with the slow breeze. I stumbled to the side of the road where the ground gave way to a deep valley. 

There before me, partially hidden by the leaves was a little boy: “Hold on!” I managed to call. The boy looked up, his eyes filled with tears – now glistening with hope. It's strange, I thought, how one word from a stranger can fill us with hope. I tried to lower hand towards him as I balanced myself at the edge of the road.

The rush of adrenaline subsided and with a sudden jerk I felt all the physical pains that had previously been held back by my adrenaline. My legs started aching, my head started spinning and I felt my forehead dampen with perspiration. The little boy clutched my hand with both of his little hands and I started to pull him up. As I was pulling him up, a dark, thick droplet landed between his eyes. Only then did I realize that my skull had been cracked open and it was only the adrenaline holding back my bleeding.

Everything before me went dark for a while until a loud crack brought me back to my senses. The piece of road on which I lay had torn itself apart and would soon fall into the valley underneath. 

I pulled the boy up and grabbed him by the shoulder just before another grumble filled the still air. I flung my body just in time to grab the edge of the still attached road with my free hand. I tried to pull myself up but the pain was excruciating.

I looked down at the boy, still clutching my ATM and found him looking at me. His dark eyes showed no sign of fear. If anything I saw in them was a mature courage. As I looked at him in awe, he spoke – his mouth still closed. His mouth was closed but his eyes spoke up, something the ancient people called “the spirit” and which psychics today call “telepathy”. “Don't worry,” his eyes seemed to say, “I know you tried.”

Before I could say or do anything else, he let go of my arm. The gruesome blizzard swallowed his little farm.  I watched him vanish into the white haze. 

He had left the night as dead as ever and me once more alone.

Authored by:
Usama Gohar
AS Level (Cambridge Section)
PakTurk Schools
Chak Shahzad
Islamabad

Q: You are in paradise. What is it like? (A question from May/June 2008 Cambridge Paper for AS/A Level candidates. The question, as is obvious by its very nature, appeared in Narrative/Descriptive/Imaginative section of the paper. See for yourself the way it's been dealt with a masterly hand by our writing genius Usama Gohar Dahri of class AS Level at PakTurk Schools Islamabad Branch.)

Paradise

Between the sweetest sounds ever experienced by my ears and the unearthly smells pouring in from all sides, I open my eyes only to be blinded by a sharp - but pleasant – ray of sunlight. It takes my eyes a moment to adjust to the magnificent landscape stretched out in front of me. I find myself questioning the impossible softness of the cushions upon which I lay, but on further inspection I find it to be nothing but ground.

I stand to my feet and begin to involuntarily dust my clothes as I used to do back on earth. Upon realization I smile clumsily and start exploring my new abode. Around me are trees, bearing fruits never the likes of which have been tasted by any man – apart from the first, I suppose. When describing the tree itself, one cannot help but to notice the flowers crowning the trees like a rainbow overlooking a rain-drenched landscape. Pouting out of the flowers are aromas so exotic, one wish to spend an eternity just enjoying the company of these flowers. I find myself wondering, what the great William Wordsworth would write after rambling through these meadows. The mystery of the melody is soon revealed as I find the source within the tree trunk. As the wind passes through the flute-shaped trunk, the tree spits out the most soothing symphony ever created.

Reluctantly, I start making my way out of the woods to discover what else God’s land holds to be discovered. One would think why wouldn’t the angels guide one inside paradise? The answer, I think, is a very logical one: for someone who had no difficulty in finding paradise, exploring it shouldn’t require divine guidance.

Once out of the woods, the path leads down a gentle slope, at the foot of which I find a crimson colored river. At first I misjudge it to be blood, but on second thought I question the credibility of finding a river of blood inside Heaven. The smell is sweet, as is the breeze carrying it. I kneel down on the brim to take a sip from it and lo! It is the promised – and much illusive – heavenly wine. For a second I sit there dazed. Seconds slowly turn into minutes but I still can’t find the strength to move myself away from this fountain.

I, being a person born and raised in the dry region, take a liking to occasional downpours. As a small desire to be pelted by rain formed within me, the sky rumbled and darkened. Small droplets surrounded me and it drizzled until my heart was content, then it left me with the soft scent of moist clay.

Once again I stood to my feet and started walking along the shore of the brook. Above me danced small patches of clouds. At the end of the meadows I came to a halt, knowing full well that it would take me an eternity to roam around paradise and that I most certainly had the time and means of doing so. Before me unfolded a landscape of such magnificence as could not be described through any combination of twenty-six letters. The closest I can come to describing it is through one small phrase: Heaven Almighty!

Authored by:

Usama Gohar Dahri 

of class AS Level 
at PakTurk Schools Islamabad Branch