A smart attempt at formal letter writing by Okasha Shams of class O' Levels 2nd year

Subject: spreading of garbage in and around our locality

Dear Editor,

I would like to bring to the authorities’ attention the worsening hygienic conditions of our locality. Being a resident of the Tarlai community, it is my moral responsibility to take care of my home and to keep it clean. Sadly, I have failed to fulfil my duties, as there is garbage all around my house; garbage near the road side; in the gutters blocking the sewerage; near ponds and lakes, contaminating them, spreading vile odors and filth atop many other environmental problems.

The toll is not only environmental but also societal, as the rates of our property have been declining, as has the fondness for our area in the eyes of outsiders, therefore, a solution is gravely needed. 

A campaign must be started to rid the streets of this filth. The community must come together and ask the government for support. But firstly, the community and all its members should work together to not spread this mess any further.

Yours truly,

Okasha Shams

Okasha Shams

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

A very good attempt by Okasha Shams of class O' Levels 2nd year. The question given was: Write a letter to the editor on the topic: street light problems.

Dear Editor,

I would like to bring to light a problem regularly faced by most of the country regularly. We do not utilize our resources properly such as street lights. 

There aren’t many street lights in most parts of our country and if there are any number of lights installed, they aren’t functional. Emergency issues include missing panels, exposed wiring, hanging light covers, a burning or smoking light, lamp posts damaged by a road traffic accident. Any of these issues is liable to cause harm or damage to a person or property.

Due to this slight misconduct, bigger problems are born. The safety of the common man is compromised as criminal activities are more easily conducted in the dark. Obnoxious crimes take place such as theft, murder, robbery and even rapes.

It is easier for criminals to hide under the veil of darkness as it becomes harder for the victims to identify the culprit, and the police in turn to catch them. Hence, this small change could make a big difference to someone’s life.

Our government must not waste public resources like that and take steps to keep their systems running as efficiently as possible so as not to cause problems to the public.

Yours truly,

Okasha Shams
O' Levels 2nd year

Okasha Shams

Write a letter to the editor on the topic: “ Bad roads in your locality”. Yet another attempt by Muhammad Uzair Bhatti of class O' Levels 2nd year.

Dear Editor,

Through the columns of your esteemed daily, I would like to draw the attention of the authorities towards an awful condition of the roads in our locality, Shadman Colony, Rawalpindi.

No one will deny the fact that roads play the role of backbone in a residential area as they help people connect with each other and for all sorts of their day to day movement. We cannot even think of such smooth movement in the absence of good roads. However, it is unfortunate that in our locality, almost all roads are lying badly damaged for the last few years with no serious notice taken so far. As a consequence, the list of problems being faced by the residents is endless. Every time we come out of our places, we find many vehicles stopped on the sides of roads, sometimes, even in the mid. Obviously, the worried owners are seen busy fixing them and fretting all along about the loss of their precious time. I have seen many cars getting entangled near potholes.

Mention of a few serious accidents is also relevant here because a very bad condition of the roads has a due share in all such heart-breaking incidents. I seriously feel dreaded at the thought of losing priceless lives some day.

Along one road, there is a park where small children come to enjoy some of their time playing. There are occasions when children come out to pick up their balls. Children, sometimes, while taking the ball out of a pothole fall into it.

If a serious action is not taken, the roads will continue getting deteriorated making the situation worse.

I, therefore, submit hereby an earnest appeal to the authorities concerned to kindly take notice of the situation as soon as possible. A quick and serious action to address this problem will go a long way in improving life quality in the area.

Yours truly,

Muhammad Uzair Bhatti 

Muhammad 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

An opening paragraph was handed to the boys of O’ Levels Final Year (here at Chak Shahzad Campus of PakTurk) as a prompt for story writing. Written in 523 words it’s one of the stories produced responding to the prompt (a Cambridge style question for which could be): ‘Write a story which includes the sentence: ‘He was determined to give his life-time benefactor an ‘easy’ death – as a token of his gratitude.’ Mubeen Ahmed Fayyaz came up with one of the most remarkable responses. Following the requirement, having opened his story with mid-action scene, Mubeen successfully applied flashback technique in which part he exhibited his mastery by wrapping up the entire situation in just 270 words, leaving no logical gap there. In the remaining 183 words, he then satiated the reader's curiosity by effectively showing ‘what happened next’. Look, the story also has a small surprise/shock in the end when Mubashir, instead of becoming an easy victim, reacts to what Thakur is going to do with him. A big kudos for Mubeen for contributing such a story with high appeal. Very engaging stuff, indeed!

An abandoned house

Thakur pulled his car out of the porcelain porch and quickly headed for the airport where he was to receive someone he called his mentor, lifetime benefactor and someone he truly adored. At hearts of his heart, he was determined to taking Mubashir to an abandoned house in the northern outskirts of the city to give him an “easy” death as a token of his gratitude.

Mubashir felt utter sympathy and droplets of sweat caressed his brow as he knelt down on hard concrete to pick up a lump: a young boy. He took the boy to a nearby hospital where he paid for the expenses and when he could find no guardian for the boy, he decided to adopt him.

The young boy grew up in an unfamiliarly posh environment but soon got the hang of it. His days were spent in getting quality education, developing a good taste in music and art and studying Henry David Thoreau’s “resistance to civil government” and similar books.

He grew up to be a teenager not willing to resign his conscience to the legislator. He believed and obeyed laws that were in line with his moral conscience and strived hard to denounce any that contradicted it. He had grown up to believe in utter freedom of mankind and absence of governing bodies as the only solution to mankind’s problems.

Mubashir had succeeded in creating a Mr-No-Government who had potential to be a part of a movement aimed at resistance towards civil government and so the boy became a part of the evil movement.

The boy who was now a man strived hard day and night to make the movement stronger but after the conservative party came to power and decided to take radical measures against the movement, everything changed.

He was caught, tried, imprisoned and tortured atrociously. He ratted out every bit of info on whoever he knew in the movement – in exchange for his freedom, something he had come to admire since his childhood – except that he succeeded in keeping Mubashir.

Today that boy, Thakur, was standing on the threshold of a colossal airport waiting for Mubashir. His eyes drifted upwards to the infinite blue sky dotted with gray clouds. When he looked back down, he was awestruck as he laid eyes on a pale figure with creased forehead and narrow lips smiling pleasantly at him. It was Mubashir.

He managed to take Mubashir to an abandoned house, his conscience failing him but he was not to deter from a decision he had taken with deliberation and lack of emotions – a decision for the better. He pulled out a pistol and aimed it at Mubashir as memories of torture filled his mind. He decided to squeeze the trigger not wanting Mubashir to face such horrendous torture who unlike him would not be able to strike a deal for freedom but before he could, Mubashir ran! Mubashir bolted on the rocky mountainous terrain. Thakur jerked his rifle on his shoulder. His shooting skills overcame Mubashir’s escaping skills as Thakur drove three bullets through Mubashir who soon lay still. Thakur then lived happy for Mubashir ceaselessly.

Mubeen Ahmed Fayyaz
O' Levels Final Year
PakTurk School, Islamabad

Guidelines on How to do Comprehension Passage 1 in GCE O' Level English (1123)