Enjoy another piece of creative writing by Mahd Ahmad Fayyaz. See the thrill he's created in his present attempt at a topic on 'descriptive narrative'.

Narrate a frightening experience that you had.

Life is brimful of occurrences, frightening as well as pleasant ones. Last month, I experienced something frightening which haunts me to this very day.

I had been playing cricket with my brother on a pleasant day with some feathery white clouds drifting over the azure sky. It was all normal until I hit a six and the ball went over the wall and into the field.

As soon as I saw the ball accelerate and go over the wall, I understood I was in deep trouble. I, accompanied by my brother, climbed up the wall and made my way to where I had last seen the ball. We tried spotting the ball from the wall but in vain. At last, I mustered up the strength and jumped into the field. I was soon neck-deep in grass from all sides.

After searching for a good fifteen minutes, I decided all effort was futile and that the ball was lost to the grass now. As I made my way back, I stepped on something firm – the ball. I gave a relieved sigh and stooped to pick it up. The next things I heard were a rope snapping by force and my brother’s frightened cry, “run!”

I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, the ball firmly clasped in my hand. The horrid creature had almost descended upon me – just within pouncing distance. I quickly threw the ball to my brother and climbed the wall. Now I looked down. To my horror, there stood a growling dog with my left shoe clung firmly between its jaws. I thanked God for saving me and went home with my brother.

Mahd Ahmed Fayyaz
O' Levels 2nd year

Mahd Ahmed Fayyaz

More practice on 'descriptive narrative'. Muhammad Uzair Bhatti of class O' Levels 2nd year opted for the topic: 'A moment when I thought I was starting to grow up.' A fine attempt, indeed!

A moment when I thought I was starting to grow up

I had an overwhelming passion for driving ever since I was a child. My family is a small one: just mother, father and I. As a child, I remember sitting with my father in the driving seat. My mother used to sit in the back as she had a sort of phobia for driving. Now my father drives while I sit in the back.

This was before my father took me to an empty ground used for driving practice and taught me how to drive properly. He did that so a member of the family knew how to drive in case of an emergency. It was followed by my driving on busy roads as well, quite a couple of times, so I could learn what ‘road sense’ is, and I did learn a lot.

Then there came a day when an emergency did knock on my door some six months later when my cousin called me: “Uzair, hurry up and get here in a car, papa isn’t feeling well. We need to get to the hospital,” he said as soon as I picked up. It mustn’t have taken me more than five minutes to get the car out and rush to his place. We laid our uncle in the back and I drove to the nearest hospital as fast as we could.

The doctors ran some tests but we soon found out it was nothing too severe as we had made it to the hospital just in time. Relaxed, we all drove back home where everyone praised me for my help. That is the day, I think, I realized I had grown up now. I had made myself proud.

By:

Muhammad Uzair Bhatti
O' Levels 2nd year

Muhammad Uzair Bhatti

Here we are with our blog reactivated to continue sharing writings from our budding writers. The foremost episode carries an attempt by a very good student from our Cambridge Section. 'A difficult decision that I had to make' is a short piece of writing by Uzair Bhatti, a promising scholar of class O' Levels 2nd years here at Cambridge Section of PakTurk Chak Shahzad Campus.

A difficult decision that I had to make

Turbulent times are part of life. They come and go leaving irremovable marks behind, and a great deal of learning for us to feel mature than before. However, what’s more important is the decision we make in such tight situations.

It was the year 2015 when I got promoted to grade 9. Immediately after, I felt extremely perplexed when faced with a dual situation demanding what version of the syllabus I should opt for:

Should I go for GCE O’ Levels or our local Federal Board syllabus, that is, simple matriculation?

I asked my parents first, but their reply was of no help as they left it entirely up to me to decide by saying: “You can go for whatever you feel like.”

I made up my mind for choosing GCE O’ Levels, but to my dismay, my uncles and aunties came out as strong opposition to that. They rejected the idea pretty severely – saying they were in favour of matric system. “GCE O’ Levels is just a show-off, and has no scope, in fact,” they opined, discouraging me to a considerable extent. Though they might be very sincere in their approach, I wasn’t convinced of their outlook. Deep down, I believed I knew better what was good for me and on what grounds.

I now was in a terrible fix as their sweeping remark had further muddled the issue.

As I consulted with my cousins aboard, they all strongly voted in favour of O’ Levels as they all had gone through this phase. 

Anyways, I mustered up enough courage and confidence to stand by my decision no matter what! I, therefore, stuck to my own vision and since then I’ve never looked back or lamented whatever I chose for myself. Though I admit it was a very difficult decision, but by God’s grace, I’ve continued with CCE O’ Levels with my head high, working hard day and night.

I have gradually come to believe that my decision was right as I’m happy with it. Others too have got convinced by seeing the grades I scored in the three subjects I appeared in. My result has become a strong evidence of the accuracy of my decision. Yes, I can certainly do it. I won’t quit at all!

Uzair Bhatti

Of Class O-II

Uzair Bhatti

Mhad Ahmed Fayyaz (from class O' Levels-I) rocks here with a wonderful response to a question given in this month’s Monthly My Performance Test. The question was: ‘Write about an occasion when you felt depressed’, and see he’s done justice with the topic by coming up with brilliant description of a situation he visualized. Well done, Mhad!

My heart skipped a beat as I noticed a furious-looking man staring at me. A primitive weapon was tightly held in his right hand – a rough hand with lumpy, ugly fingers. His extra-large, black eyes had sparks of obvious detest for my poor soul. Such was the awe and the horror that for those few moments I felt I was a helpless man driven far away from a shore where – at an unmanageable distance – he had quit struggling with all his energy exhausted. I felt as if I was drowning, getting closer to my end. The ominous silence was broken as the man, with a quick jerk, rushed at me, muttering cries of revenge. I had made a terrible mistake!

On that fateful day, apparently I saw no signs of any would-be untoward. It looked all safe and sound. The weather was pleasant as usual. The sky was an expanse of sapphire blue, dotted with feathery white clouds. Radiant rays of the sun shone brightly across the azure, wide canopy. But then a time came when sweat trickled down my brow, as I lifted my head high in a hope to see over the commotion and on to the source of the problem causing the traffic jam. I was in a hurry, but had unluckily got stuck on a main road in northern part of the city.

In utter despair, I decided to get out of my car and walk over to the source of turmoil, which would eventually prove to be a drastic mistake.

I adjusted my newly tailored bespoke suit as I dismounted from my Crystal Black Pearl Vezel. As I got nearer, I saw banners claiming western culture as the sole cause of all problems in Pakistan. As I headed on, a full scale sight of an angry crowd came in view. It was a protest.

That is when I saw a man dressed in tribal attire, staring at me with a devilish grin. As I stared back at him, he grew enraged. Next, to my utter shock, pointing his pitchfork to my chest, he hurled abuse at me. And the very next moment, he leapt at me. Flabbergasted, I rushed back.

He was soon chasing me with his obnoxiously heavy body. And that was the moment for my well-shaped and smart body to exhibit its athletic skills. I was soon at a safe distance. As I turned back, to my surprise, I saw a police man on top of him. I had been saved, though I felt extremely depressed.

I continued feeling depressed for another three long days. Later, I read a police report. I could not fathom the thought that that errant man had pounced on me for the mere reason of my appearance in western getup. It all sounded weirdest of the things I had ever encountered.

Mahd Ahmed Fayyaz
O' Levels-I
PakTurk School, Islamabad

Armughan Aslam of class O’ Levels final year came up with perfection this time leaving me handicapped when I tried to spot errors in his story. This too is another episode of our series about developing a story in a setting of snowy weather condition. I feel like shouting out a single word to vent my feelings or appreciation: Superb!

The puddle of blood, sleet and slush sent chills down my spine…

At exactly 7am, my alarm clock sprang to life one frigid morning. Poking my head from underneath layers of blankets, I could perceive grayish-white clouds through the window. I made my way to the bathroom, fogging the mirror with my breath. I put on my earmuffs, boots and mittens and made my way to the yard. The crunch of snow beneath my boots was music to my ears in the dead-silent morning. As I approached my mailbox, which was by now covered with white, cottony powder, a familiar voice caught my attention.

“Good morning Gary!” It was my neighbor and friend, Sam, from down the road. Sam was a short, chubby man with a stub nose and a round face. We waved, and so Sam started crossing the road to catch up with the latest news. Soon, however, my smile disappeared as I saw a car screech across the icy road. Sam’s body plopped to the ground like the ice crystals falling. The puddle of blood, sleet and slush sent chills down my spine.

The blistering cold and the icy breeze had frozen my mind as well, and it was quite a while after which I noticed that the four-wheeler’s chauffeur had fled. Without a second to waste, I escorted Sam to the back of the car; his ski parka was drenched in blood. I got behind the wheel and drove off with speed to the hospital. I could barely visualize objects steering the car through the sea of white, and had to swerve to avoid pedestrians in the way.

            “Gary!” exclaimed Sam, his voice dying. “Please tell my wife and kids, that I love them…”

“Hang in there Sam. Nothing’s going to happen to you!” There was no response. I turned around to see Sam unconscious. As I glanced back at the road, a leafless oak tree appeared out of the blue. I tried to skew the car out of the way, but the slippery road took over and we crashed into the mighty timbre. I fell unconscious.

Upon regaining conscious, I found myself settled in a hospital bed. The nurse told me that I had been in coma for three days which shocked me to the nerves. Upon enquiring about Sam, I was left shell-shocked. My eyes swelled up with tears, for Sam had died.

Armughan Aslam

O’ levels Final Year

Yet another ‘blast’ by Umar Khan of class O’ Levels final year! Same is the setting here: a snowy day weather condition. Even though amount of vocabulary related with snowy day is not as per our requirement, yet see the way he engaged us right from the first word he dropped onto the answersheet; the power of dragging us along till end; and a startling ending leaving you flabbergasted. A big thumb up, dear Umar! We all wish you an A* grade in your Cambridge Exam.

What she said next struck me like the blade of a sword......

I glanced out of the window and ran my gaze through the world now covered in a carpet of white. It seemed as if the earth had buried itself under blankets trying to resist the cold which had now taken over the world.  My breath clouded the window. Kids gave life to the dead world. They darted here and there, kicking mounds of snow into the air. Small and delicate crystals could be seen falling from the sky.

Knowing that today would be the perfect day, I quickly grabbed the ring and slid it into my pocket. The door creaked as I slowly opened it. My eyes pained as a sudden gush of light sprang into the room. After a brief moment, I stepped out onto the porch.

My heartbeat sped up when I saw her and thundered in my chest. She sat silently on the bench. Her face was as radiant as always. The first time I had saw her, purchasing chocolate bars at the local store, I knew it was love. She did things to my heart that I had never experienced before. My steps got heavier as I approached her. My fingertips rubbed against the silver ring resting in my pocket.

Seeing me, she abruptly stood up. Snow lightly showered on us. The chilly breeze pounded my face. Before I could say anything, she started to cry. Tears slid down her cheeks. I couldn't anticipate what was happening. A part of me wanted to rush to her and take her into my arms, while the other part made me stay where I was- dumbfounded. "I have to tell you something ," she whimpered. A chill ran up my spine as I heard the words- there was pain in them. What she said next struck me like the blade of a sword, piercing through the heart. She uttered, "I'm carrying a child."

Umar Khan
O' Levels Final Year
PakTurk International School & College
Chak Shahzad Campus
Islamabad

Boys of O’ Level were asked to gather vocabulary related with a snowy day, and then develop a story in which they would be incorporating all that vocabulary. Let’s see how very successful Muhammad Abubakar Mian’s attempt is. I believe a compelling quality opening; vocabulary capable of representing the situations and feelings; variety in the sentence structure, variety in vocabulary, variety in situations, description of feeling and emotions and situations; use of descriptive verbs + all this coupled with an engaging content; engaging content means the author has the ability to keep dragging his/her readers along till end by keeping their minds hooked up. That’s all what makes a story a truly interesting stuff . See for yourself, Muhammad Abubakar Mian does deserve applause for a job well done --- quite effortlessly. A big kudos, Abubakar

....I called the number back but to no avail…

What I woke up to would have been called a frozen wonderland if it wasn’t for the howling wind still raging outside. A violent and unrelenting blizzard had overtaken the small town of Dearborn, Michigan. This storm of deathly white was unlike anything Dearborn had seen before. Virtually everything in the town was under a blanket of snow, and not a soul stirred in any of its streets. Businesses and most public services were closed, as people trapped themselves in their homes while seeking refuge from the Siberian environment. How much longer will this blizzard last? I wondered, while slowly creeping out of bed and making my way to the kitchen.

Perhaps a nice, warm cup of coffee will fight off the frigid cold that still holds a tight grip over my body, I thought. As I was sipping on the coffee, however, my cellphone rang - but only for a few seconds. It stopped ringing as soon as I took it out of my pocket. The missed call was from an old lady that lived about a block away. Perplexed as to why she was calling so early in the morning, I called the number back but to no avail. Suddenly, the freezing cold came rushing over my body once more. Maybe she’s in trouble and needs my assistance? Being her only friend and contact in the entire town, she didn’t have anyone else to turn to.

A part of me wanted to quickly gulp down the coffee and just as quickly crawl back under the comfy bed sheets. While the warmth of the bed sheets might have shielded me from the blizzard’s arctic grasp, it would not have provided closure as to why Ms. Lee had just left a missed call. As this internal conflict of emotions played out in my head, I unconsciously got myself dressed - ready to face the icy tempest.

With one last deep breath, I swung the door open and trudged out into the snow. Hugging my coat like a joey clinging to its mother’s pouch, I turned in the direction of Ms. Lee’s house and made my way towards it. Every few steps a debilitating gust of sleet and snow hurled itself against me. Bracing myself for more of these aggressions being carried by the blizzard, I thought of my relationship with Ms. Lee. Unfortunately, I didn’t know much about her and neither did she of me. What I was certain of however, was that I was the closest thing to a friend she had anywhere in this town. It was my responsibility, then, to make sure she was okay. ‘Maybe she has fallen somewhere in her house and is unable to get up,” I feared.

After a few more minutes of walking, I finally made it to the house. I rang the bell and then heard a shout from deep within the house. The exclamation put my body into overdrive as I turned the door knob and sprinted inside.

“Ah! Abubakar, it’s so nice to see you. I just finished baking some cookies. Why don’t you sit down and eat?” (…describe your reaction as well --- in a sentence or two. How did you feel like? Shocked? Sad? Bored? Happy or what? Besides, whatever you revealed in the end could have been something more forceful, more enthralling one. That blast surprise I was waiting for turned out to be rather weak here.)

Muhammad Abubakar Mian
O' Level Final Year
PakTurk International School & College
Islamabad

A short story with feedback. The student's name is being held.

I peered out the window and saw that the whole neighborhood was covered in snow. Snow flakes fell slowly from the sky. (If it’s description with which you preferred opening your story, then add a bit of more to depict snowy weather condition to be able to sound mature in writing.) I had a severe headache so I took some painkillers to ease the pain. I went (Use descriptive verb here. The one you applied is talkie verb) to the kitchen to make some hot chocolate when I got a call from my girlfriend (avoid mention of girlfriend since it’s odd in our society and religion). As I was about to pick it up, it ended. I tried to call her but her phone was off which was odd.

I took my gun with my badge and headed towards the car but unfortunately the car’s battery had died. (Taking gun is too abrupt here. You need to develop solid background first as what was that something that really made you feel so very aggressive. Justify it to make it sound maturer.) My mind was ticking like a time bomb (Why? How did you sense and decide that the girl was essentially in trouble? We need enough evidence first) and no painkillers could stop it. Mona’s place was a block away from mine. I had no choice but to walk. The snow was very thick and it was difficult for me to walk. I was already struggling through the snow when it started to snow very heavily (Avoid repeating the same word, that too in such a narrow space. Show variety in vocabulary.) It seemed as if a blizzard was about to come. I was almost there when I saw a man walk into mona’s house (‘Mona’ is proper noun. Write it with capital initial: ‘M’). I took my gun out and started to walk faster because I couldn’t run in this blanket of snow. I finally reached her house.

As I entered her house I shouted “Mona!” and that’s when something struck my head. It was mona (again with capital ‘M’). She struck my head with the baseball bat (why?) and that’s when that man came (Use descriptive verb here to show the manner of his coming). The man pointed the gun at me. He cocked the gun and said “Goodbye john” (Use capital ‘J’). Mona kissed me one last time and that’s when I jumped out of the window and disappeared in the snow. The snow was merciful to hide me. (Why did the man point that gun at you? Who was he? What was the situation like? Why was Mona alone at home? We don’t find a single word about her family? Justify her being alone there. The ending leaves many questions unanswered. Provide us an improved version of the story, and of course with a title as well.)

O’ Level students are fully clear on this point that when getting hold of a topic for story writing, and intending to use first person pronoun ‘I’, they can pose to be anybody, like a mom, a baby, a shopkeeper, an elderly person or a young man etc. See the way Muhammad Abubakar Mian seized the topic, triggered/prompted his imaginative explosive to cause this ‘big bang’ you call ‘a short story’. Intensely engaging right from the first word he dropped onto the sheet, the story is compellingly believable. With crispy, punchy sentences most naturally gushing out like a water spring, and well-connected like pieces in a chain, the story itself unfolds all information, the background, the present scenario and a likely future. You’d feel as if you were watching this incident with your own eyes. It’s like a Hollywood movie scene.

Muhammad Abubakar Mian was asked to generate a short story using the following two sentences anywhere in the text.

“Blood was still oozing out of his nose…”

“I had never expected her to betray me like that.”

Blood was still oozing out of his nose as I slammed him against the wall and continued to beat him to a pulp. His tattered shirt was red all over, but no amount of bleeding would stop my onslaught. My fury of punches continued to rain down on him as I blocked out the screams of my wife. She pleaded me to calm down, but that was like asking a bull to stop and wait as an entertainer tied his shoes - impossible. In retrospect, I’m not exactly sure where all that intense energy had come from, but come it did, and when it came, it was violent. 

The stranger had touched my wife in the privacy of my home. I use the word “stranger” lightly as he was a stranger to me but might not have been a stranger to these walls. My wife could have let him in on a number of occasions. This was a possibility that I did not want to believe, but was forced to at least consider. I had never expected her to betray me like that. These thoughts raced through my mind as my one-sided offensive continued. 

There was one thought that resonated throughout my body more so than the others: ‘This was my fault. It was my neglect that had led my wife to what she has done.’ She was not to blame, and neither was the man at the receiving end of my fists. The latter was only taking advantage of the former’s unfortunate situation. The thought of this magnified my anger ten-fold, but it was through this anger that I realized the man before me was now motionless. His whimpering had subsided and his body grew cold. The next sound I heard was that of a police siren going off somewhere in the distance as two men in blue jackets kicked down the door.

Boys of O’ Level Final, the other day, were challenged by their language teacher to produce a story within 40 minutes time, in a way that the ending must have some sort of surprise. Here is what our writing genius Muhammad Abubakar Mian ‘blurted out’. Witty and amusing stuff!!

I had practiced saying it a hundred times, but when the moment came, I just couldn't open my mouth.

“I had practiced saying it a hundred times, but when the moment came, I just couldn’t open my mouth!” Wasiullah wailed.

Upon hearing this, the entire room burst into a thunderous roar. It was hard not to laugh at Wasiullah’s misfortune. Wasiullah, the shy gentleman in our group of friends, was retelling his failed attempt at befriending the pretty girl living across the street from him.

“And what happened next?”

I questioned while trying to conceal my smile as best I could.

“Absolutely nothing.” He murmured. “She stood there looking at me expectantly with those soft pearly eyes of hers. She waited a few seconds for me to say something, but I guess she gave up as the next thing I saw was the small of her back and her golden-brown hair.”

“Soft pearly eyes? What the hell have you been smoking, man?”

“I smoke only the sweet fumes of love.”

Wasiullah replied as a smile quietly stretched across his face. His mood seemed to have been improving. It was clear, however, that Wasiullah had something special brewing in his heart for this girl, and that it was up to us to get the job done.

It was decided that I would be the one to accompany our lovestruck knight on his next expedition. Wasiullah seemed to be having an issue with introducing himself. For this reason, my task was to take care of the introductions before quickly leaving the two of them to themselves. Wasiullah informed me that the girl went for a stroll through Central Park every day at around three in the afternoon. We decided that this would be the best time for making contact with her. The next day both of us made our way to a bench near the entrance of the park and began waiting patiently. After about an hour of sitting around, Wasiullah let out a nervous squeal.

          

“There she is!” he yelped.

 Mustering as much suave as I could, I slowly made my way towards her.

 “Hi there.” I hollered.

The girl, however, walked right past me. Befuddled, I caught up with her and put my hand on her shoulder. Once she turned around, I told her my name with an inviting smile. This is when the girl pointed to her ear and I made a harrowing realization. The girl, who our dear Wasiullah had so quickly fallen in love with, was deaf.

Muhammad Abubakar Mian, O’ Level Final Year
PakTurk International School
Chak Shahzad Campus, Islamabad

A short story by our intelligent Armughan Aslam, a hard working boy in my O’ Level class. True that some areas and some of the sentences need improvement here, this still is worth reading a text. Armughan, as you will see, can successfully incorporate vocabulary words. His imaginative ability is also commendable. I’m sure he will most certainly be doing lots better in his future attempts.

“I realized that the man walking down the street had done something abnormal…”

I had never been so anxious in my whole life. My blood pressure had skyrocketed, and I was in a state of anguish and confusion. I could never have expected that the new Mercedes, which I had bought less than a week ago, would be stolen so effortlessly.

It was a sunny afternoon of November. I was driving back home after a hectic day in the office in my brand new Mercedes Benz. After years of promotions, hard work and savings, I was finally able to afford this luxury, and it made me extremely jubilant. As I rolled into my street, I noticed a tall, hairy man worriedly searching for something. In the span of a second, I realized that the man walking down the street had done something abnormal: he took hold of a garbage bag near my home and started pacing in my direction. I had to brake hard in order to save the man, who quickly came up to my door. Then, darkness!

When I regained consciousness, I found myself lying on the lopsided sidewalk, with a faint pain in my head. I remembered the man squealing “Please forgive me” before landing a blow on my head with a rod. Worse, he had gotten away with my up-to-date Mercedes, which made me angry as a charging bull. Without a second to waste, I headed to the nearest police station and registered an FIR against the culprit. During the while, I overheard policemen conversing with each other.

“Have you heard the news? A bomb cleverly hidden in a garbage bag is out there somewhere in the city.” yelped one policeman to the other. “If we don’t find it soon, it can surely wreak havoc.” Before I had time to think, a sudden newsflash illuminated the LCD mounted on the wall: A bomb had just set off a few miles away from town. Soon the news spread like wildfire, and footages from the scene where being broadcasted live. All of a sudden, I felt a jolt within, because the dilapidated automobile damaged by the explosion was actually mine!

Just then, it struck my mind: the man, who apparently had robbed me of my car, had actually tried to dispose of the bomb as far away as possible from the city. I could not help tear at the fact that he had sacrificed his life to save the lives of hundreds. I informed the policemen of my story, and they too couldn’t help but praise the bravery of that man. That day, my faith in humanity was finally restored.

Name: Armughan Aslam

Student of O’ level Class

PakTurk International School, Islamabad

‘Essentials to a Prosperous Life’ by Hassan Bukhari (of class O’ Levels Final Year) offers you a pack of inspiring tips that can certainly help raise a bit of reflection towards the way you are, and the way you’d like to see yourself. While the web-world is already crammed with such ‘life changing’ inspirational stuff, giving these 700 words a quick read won’t be a waste of time --- for sure!

Essentials for a prosperous life

Remember the last time you lost hope? Or when criticism won the war against your will, hopes and dreams? Or when you lost yourself in the flood of critics and so called friends?

All this happens and no one can ever deny it, what I am going to pinpoint here are some fact no-one out there can contradict. I hope this can help some who have not yet lost them to others or rather this cruel world! And for those who have, it’s never too late.

Be sincere to yourself

People love telling this to you, and I bet you hear it every single time you find yourself sitting in some life counseling seminar whatsoever. But how many of us do really follow this? Guess what, none! You know what this actually means? Have you ever tried to actually listen to what the red organ in your chest has to say? A friend wrote this and I believe this explains everything:

“What’s the best escape? 

Is it a veil to pretend to yourself that you are not a frail?

Why is it that you are not you?

Is not it that hard to get it through?

The mask is just a sweet lie stopping you from being true

The mask you put on was a high score.

Now you’re trapped the mask is the door.

And when you come out, it won’t be you anymore.

It’s been long since you became a chalk on the floor.

The mask was a shadow you should have known.

It’s too late now that you are overthrown.

But say HI to you for me.

For me, when you are alone.

For me, when you are home...”

And remember, when you are sincere to you, you are sincere to people around you as well and that’s what your enemies don’t want to see, so make sure of their defeat.

Ignore the critics

There are two kinds of people in this world, ones who criticize you to make a better you, and the others who criticize you to see you lose hope and get solely crushed. Make sure you can differentiate between the two.

Follow your dreams

This is my favorite part. When you are true to yourself, when you are not ashamed of who you are, only then you can concentrate on your passions and live up to them. We don’t want to wake up one random morning and say “what the hell am I doing?” This is when you feel there is no place for you in this world and you start criticizing yourself and others around. Never let worthless things like peer pressure keep you from who you are and what you want to be. Do what you believe is right for you and be the best of what you make.

 You are the best judge of you

Remember that aunt, yes the one who likes picking flaws in you and always comparing you with either her own children or the ones next door. Guys! Not for a moment should you ever doubt yourself just because of her. Indeed, you know what is best for you, now I am not saying that you should neglect what others have to say, but neither should you try to be anybody you are not. You are the best judge of you and let that stay as it is.

Spend some time solo

Yeah, you heard me. Spend some time with the one I call “you”. The global village this planet has turned out to be makes me think a hundred times before I can agree to stay alone. Parties, hangouts and a lot of other ridiculous stuff like that. Spend some time alone; let it be somewhere in the basement or the attic but please! ---For your own sake, don’t lose yourself in the crowd! I don’t need to mention what you should do, but when the time comes you will know what to make of it.

Only you can help yourself

Wow, I just wrote 700 words! For whose sake, if I may ask?? My own?! Yes, that’s right. I wrote this for myself, not for some boring old blog but for me! --- Because I would like to help myself. Gradually, I have come to understand I am the one who can help me because I am sincere to myself, believe in myself, follow my passion and I myself can only be the best judge of me!

Hassan Bukhari

O’ Level Final Year

PakTurk International Schools

Chak Shahzad Campus

Islamabad

'Despite my best endeavours I could not save the boy...' is Umar Khan's debut --- an engaging story with a natural flow. The text has an impressive vocabulary. Sentence structure is the area, however, Umar needs to work on. I personally believe Umar does hold a genuine flair for writing. In the days to come, much more is likely to be shared from this boy because Umar Khan of class O-2 is fast in doing the things. Happy reading!

 
Despite my best endeavours I could not save the boy...

I will never forget those small, innocent, terrified eyes, for the incident haunts me to this very day. Despite my best endeavours I could not save that boy.

It was a bright, sunny day --- just the sort of day when I feel like leaving my abode in the mountains for a hiking trip. I was geared and ready within half an hour. The hiking trails were not far from my house, so I decided to take a stroll. When I reached the trails I looked up at the enormous mountain peaks.

“Today, I’ll touch the top, no matter what,” I said to myself.

Without wasting a moment more, I started up the mountains. Knowing the technique for hiking, I started off slow, saving up most of my stamina for the final sprint. The trail got steeper as I climbed further. Gradually, I reached the point where I could climb no further without clinging to anything.

I was out of breath and my legs felt heavy and numb. I could feel my blood as it left my heart and raced across my body. The trail showed no sign of ending any time soon; and although I had climbed for more than an hour, any sign of the summit seemed far.

“I’ll never make it,” I thought breathing heavily, after I was sure I could go no higher. Only two or three thousand metres up the trail, I would be all washed out.

I was about to relinquish, when I heard a faint cry. At first I perceived it to be an animal, but after putting my ears to the sound, I could make out a voice. Someone was asking for help. I followed the voice which seemed to be coming from the edge over which I was busy balancing myself.

I climbed a little higher to reach the source of the sound, and that was exactly what I found. A small boy clung to the under-side of the cliff. He was struggling to keep his balance, for that is what would save his life. Springing forward I grabbed his hands. He looked up, his eyes filled with tears.

“Help me!” he said. “I’m scared, mister!”

“Don’t you worry, son. It’ll be alright.” I tried to calm him.”

Without losing a second I tried to push him up, but my feet quivered to lose ground.

“My mother must be looking for me,” he said between sobs, “I’m all she has left.”

His frail form hanging from those cruel rocks brought tears to my eyes. I could read in his eyes that he wasn’t lying. Knowing that I would not be able to hold on for long, I began to shout for help. But the only answer I got was my own echo. I knew full well that the nearest population was at the foot of the mountains, and there wasn’t enough time for anybody to reach this tragic scene.

To top it all off, I was badly sweating, and the moisture made my hands slippery. The boy having realized the grasp was loosening, reached out to grab my arm, but unfortunately he lost hold of my hand and before he could grab me with his other hand, gravity got to him.

Mommmmm.......!!”. The next moment, I helplessly saw him rolling down into the abyss below.

“Noooo.......!!” I screamed.

After a few seconds, I could see his small, lifeless body resting on the rocks below me. I stood up. As I was walking away, I looked over my shoulder one last time and I thought: “life isn’t fair.”

By Umar Khan

Class O’ Levels 2^nd year

PakTurk International Schools

Chak Shahzad Campus

Islamabad