An alterted me!

I still remember, the first class of EWS had me thinking that why are we doing such baby stuff. Stuff that i remember doing in grade seven. The second class had me smirking as the lectures turned even simpler and i had the correct answers to every blank in the work sheet that miss Bina gave to us. The third class sent me into fits of laughter when i realised that this was all that we were going to do for the entire course. And when i was laughing real hard, i choked when my first written essay was turned back with numerous marks of red ink circling the number of mistakes i had made. It was then i decided, I WILL NOT LAUGH!!
From there started a grammatical journey which lead to the road of good writing. And today. after being done with all classes i see myself standing on that road where i feel that yes, my writing has become alot better than before. The tenses, puntuations, clauses, correct usuage of metaphors, smilies and so on taught me how to hand in good pieces of writing that made the scary red marks into red ticks followed by excellents.
It has just not been only about writing. The usuage of correct tenses has made the quality of speech much better and more impressive. Overall the things that i had thought were so ordinary were the things that i had long forgotten and were very important for me. And so i realised that it was dumb to be over confident.

Finding Forrester

William Forrester was an old man who preffered hiding inside his apartment than coming out to the world. All day long he would sit inside his small apartment writing. Writing was his passion, his hobby which kept him so busy that he never found the urge in him to go out and do other things that any other human being would crave for. Though everyone knew that there was a man who lived up in the apartment and who never came out, they never got to know the real William Forrester. The real him was kind helpful man who never shared his life with anyone. There were all sorts of rumours about him which in reality were all false. He was not like a normal man as he preffered isolance. Also his behaviour was also peculiar than most.
Agoraphobia is the irrational fear of open or public places. William FOrrester did have this fear in him and so he always stayed inside his apartment and never got out.

Shooting an Elephant exercise

Enemy: A hostile force/ A person in opposition.


The story revolves around two castes, the British and the Burmese. Both groups of people are in opposition in the story and are against each other. There is alot of hostility in the Burmese for the British and thus, they resented them. Therefore, both the castes are reffered to as each other's enemies.
The Burmese and the British differ from each other because both were completely different religions with different perspectives and thought processes. The difference in color stood between them as a wall to any sort of a compromise and so there were feelings of hostility and resentment between the Burmese and the British. Also the feeling of being ruled drived the Burmese to hate any British man present between them. They hated being ruled by the British army and thus gave them a hard time whenever possible.

Mum making sehri

RINGGG.
."ahh shut up! Iam waking up hold on." Muttering I smack the STOP button on the red, pig shaped alarm clock and get out of my bed rubbing my swollen eyes trying to find my slippers in the dark moonlit room. Still muttering and now whinning too I go into the bathroom, squinting my eyes against the strong light of the yellow bulbs as i turn the switches on to wash my face and scrub my uptill now staright teeth. The splashes of cold water on my face brought life into me and by the time i got myself into my gown I was in a presentable state of a mother who was going to feed her children.
Running down the stairs I lite the kitchen and position myself infront of the large window.
"Muneeb, Muneeb," I bellowed on top of my lungs to wake up the sleeping servant whose snors were audible till here. When no response came I tried the intercom. The bell was loud enough to wake the dead, however, when it came to the servants it was no more than a mouse's squeak. Failing to wake the pathan boy I sat down on the table waiting for everyone to come down. My husband is the first to come down shaking his head looking displeased.
"The kids need to start acting their age. it took me fifteen minutes to wake them up. What kind of attitude is this? They are old enough to set alarms and wake up themselves," stated my children's eye swollen angry father, looking at me for support. Giving him the sweetest smile I said,
"Like father like son," leaving him staring open-mouth staring at me i go to the stove to start preparing our tea motionning him to quit staring and go wake up the servants. Five minutes later my two sons and a daughter trudge into the kitchen settling down into their seats on the table. My daughter still rubbing her eyes demanded for a hunter chicken sandwhich followed by a sweet smile, Smiling myself I take two slabs of chiken meat out of the freezer and put them into the microwave for defrosting. outside my husband was struggling to wake up the servants shotuing his name outside his room door. Finally the door squeaked and out came a red eyed boy apologising and rushing inside. Handing him the defrosted chicken slabs for him to fry I turn back at the table to find the younger of the two sons snoring away on the table mat. Sighing, i ask the other one and his order was for an omlet.
"Jamshaid..Jamshaid..JAMSHAID!' I finally shouted and there he was staring wide eyes at me. Satisfied I asked his order and then went to the fridge to take out the eggs. I had just cracked them into the bowl when hubby darling comes in followed by the other servant. Handling the other pathan boy the eggs I take the now ready tea on the table to my husband and settled down in my chair releived that now the servants can handle the rest.
Nobody said a word during the entire time and only when the last piece of bread was taken by my husband to finish his last piece of fried chicken, did my daughter stated that she was going to bed. The brothers followed her after five minutes murmuring their goodnights, leaving me and their dad who had the cross look again on his face.
"They need to grow up and take responsibilty. What kind of attitude is this?" Laughing loudly I push my chair back and gave him a light peck on the cheek and whispered,
"Goodnight." and swayed upstairs.

Our new president

Busy with my own life i never really had time to look into the poltical situation of our country. However, yes, i did keep myself a little if not that much informed of the headlines that moved the country every now and then.
6th of September 2008 marks the beginning of a new era which has already started from the time the moment Asif Ali Zardari won the seat for the president of Pakistan on this date. No one knows what will happen in the future and we certainly are not sure of the upcoming issues that this country will may have to face. Presidents came presidents went. This is an ongoing process that will never finish and today marks the day when the twelfth president for the Islamic State of Pakistan has been elected and now begins a brand new journey either towards success or towards an ugly downfall.
We as citizens are helpess here as now we and our country is in the hands of a third person. All we can do is to sit and watch what happens next. Keeping our fingers crossed we let the new president take power and control of the scattering nation in hope for a better future and economic position.
All the best Mr. President.

Introduction

From the section B of media sciences 1st year i am Minahil Javed. i have completed my A Levels from southshore school for A Level studies and managed to score a B in my english general at 82%.
My subjects there were of commerce where I had chosen Economics, Accounts and business studies. Future plans are still vague however, I am looking forward to join my father's company as a Marketing Director.
I love reading and though my favourites are romance based but i also enjoy reading other books which highlight women issues. But basically I pretty much read anything that comes my way. I use to write alot before but with the numerous amount of home assignments and studies i stopped doing so. My written work was always fictious and I never tried writing a report or an actual situtation based story because i did not find that imaginative and creative. I like working with my own ideas when writing and I love to put in my creations of different characters.
My favourite authors are Judith Mcnaught, Tehmina Durrani, Nora Roberts, Sidney sheldon and Zana Muhsen.