Daily Archives: October 24, 2016

‘A Crowded Place’ by Misha Ahmad

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“Beep! Beep!”

The sound of noisy cars and the constant buzz of people awoke me from my slumber, again…. I bought an apartment right above the busiest street in New York. My balcony opened towards the street and being able to have a blissful sleep was merely impossible.
I leaped out of bed, clutching my stomach as it was roaring with hunger. I opened the refrigerator, the luminous white light reflecting my eyes. I got the box of leftover pizza from the day before and a packet of economy sized biscuits and carried myself to my balcony. I threw myself at the white plastic chair( which had now turned yellow with age) and stared down at the monstrous street which did not let me sleep at 3:00 Am on a tired-some Monday night.
A woman stood at the corner of the street with her hand out in the air, trying to catch a taxi. The yellow and black taxis were like honey bees flying at the speed of light. At the opposite side of the street was ‘Andy’s’, a shop I paid regular visits to, to buy groceries. It was open twenty four hours a day which made it easy for me to go there, when needing to satisfy my midnight cravings of Doritos and coke. A couple came out of the shop, arguing intensely. The woman had chocolate brown hair and was wearing a fancy red cocktail dress which sparkled when a car’s headlight fell on it. The man was wearing a silk suit, his jet black hair slicked back with what seemed to be a great amount of hair gel. They were probably in their mid thirties. It seemed like they were coming back from a party.
In the shady alley right below my balcony stood a crowd of mischievous young boys. It was as if they did not want to be seen. A stocky boy passed a packet wrapped in brown paper to the others. I bit into the cold pizza which smelled odd and the once crispy crust had become hard and tough now. As I picked off a pepperoni and chewed it the woman waiting for a taxi had finally found one and climbed into the car, which drove off into the night. A strange whiff crowded my surroundings, making me cough out that last bite of pizza. I looked down to see those underage boys smoking what seemed to smell like marijuana. I shook my head in disapproval and continued to open that packed of biscuits.
Meanwhile a girl passing the street, constrained in her own thoughts was almost run over by one of those viscous cars. The black car honked so loud at the poor girl it made my ears hurt. She stood for a second there in shock and ran down the road. She threw herself at the curb and let out a quiet sob. Her eyes were blood shot red and she stared down at the tan line on her ring finger where there must have been an engagement ring before.
I bit into the crunchy vanilla bean cookies, the white chocolate chips melted in my mouth. My tastebuds danced while the couple across ‘Andy’s’ had now turned their quiet argument into a shouting competition. The woman folded her arms and screamed at him, while he kept going around in circles trying to simmer down the situation. The woman took off a ring and threw it towards the ground and took off in a different direction.
Two cops walked towards the boys beneath my balcony. A little smile plastered across my face as I knew what would happen next. All of them sat in the police car and went off. I thought to myself, someone’s parents    will be disappointed tonight. I went off to bed, trying to find some sleep. Eventually, I fell asleep but the city? No, New York never sleeps.

‘Favourite Food’ by Misha Ahmad

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Food is a blessing sent from up above. When I talk about my favorite dish, its impossible to decide. Creamy chicken and mushroom soup as the steamy mushrooms slide past my tongue. Or Italian ravioli, as the delicate pockets of pasta filled with spinach and cottage cheese dance in the rick tomato sauce. Or it could be thin crusty pizza with a layer of mozzarella cheese, fresh tomatoes, turkey bacon which lie in top of a flavorful red sauce.
I love savory, but what I really devour is dessert. Those devils steering on those white plates after meals get me swinging side to side. A long list stretches from classic apple pie, as you slice into the golden brown dough, it makes that crisp sound of buttery, flaky, perfectly baked apple pie with perfectly sliced apples garnished with cinnamon. From the classic three layered chocolate fudge cake, with the milk chocolate frosting and moist sponge cake making that intense chocolatey flavor last on your tongue. Fresh macarons out of the oven, as I bite into the blueberry and mint macaron the chewiness of the filling gets to me every time.
All these desserts are exemplary, but my favorite one? Oh! It beats them all! Its a devil with its devious snare the first time you look at it. With every bite you come back for more. Its worse than nicotine, but oh! How much I love it.
Served to you on a white plate, it stands right in the middle. With it, its partner, the both make a match made in heaven. Sprinkled with icing sugar making it look like a snowy frost on a volcano. Occasionally it is garnished with fresh tangy raspberries that marry the flavors. As you take your silver spoon and cut through the middle, it erupts like a volcano. All the hot chocolate oozes out like lava. I gather the most I can on my spoon and put it in my mouth. The velvety chocolate smothers in my mouth. Hot and steamy. The aroma of the lightly baked cake like texture overwhelms my senses. Just as it is about to get too hot a spoon full of vanilla bean ice cream next to it, balances the temperature bringing it down to neutral. It is merely exceptional. It is the work of a God.
It makes my heart race, my tastebuds dance and my hand reaches out for more. It is like love at first sight. Its as good as it looks. You could say its decadent…decadent molten lava cake.

‘Sometimes lies can have serious consequences’- by Misha Ahmad

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Sweat trickled down my neck. I could hear my heart beat louder than ever. My hands trembled as I tried to grasp the cold water in the plastic paper cup with my hand-cuffed wrists. I spilled some and it ran down my shirt which was drenched with sweat. I looked around and there was nothing but black walls. I was blinded by the white light of the lamp on the table in front of me. I sat in unrest waiting for my doom. I knew I would not get away from this lie.
The metal door creaked open and a big muscular shadow walked towards me. I could not see his face until he sat infront of me, the white ligjt reflecting his stern face.
“I am officer Jason Black and I am here to interrogate you on the death of Emily Rose,” he said sternly in a deep hollow voice that echoed that empty room.
“I dont know why…why I’m here”, I said trembling.
“You know exactly why you are here Mrs.Parker”
“Where were you yesterday at 7:15pm?” He questioned.
“I was at home with my husband, I made food, we watched a movie and went to sleep. Thats all.” I said.
The officer flicked through some files and told me that Emily Rose was found dead at the side of the road. Her head was smashed open and her legs were broken after the police analyzed the body.
I gave my condolences and pretended like I knew nothing about the incident. I knew he was not buying it. He kept asking me questions I did not know answers to. I did not sign up for this. I did not want this. The only thing I wanted was to get out of that room and run as fast as I could. I felt guilty not telling them the truth. It was injustice to her innocent life and her precious family, who were sitting in the hallways, crying, sobbing demanding the police to find the one responsible for her death.
“Mrs.Parker, your husband is in the next room, being interrogated like you and if your answers do not match each other there will be serious consequences…. I hope you understand that.”
I looked down and sighed deeply and shook my head.
“Were you driving the range rover that hit Emily Rose on street 57, Orchard boulevard yesterday at around 7:10pm?”
“NO!” I shouted in anger. ” I DIDNT KILL HER!” Tears ran down my pale cheeks, my lips trembled. I held my throbbing head with my shaking hands. “But I know who did…” I finally admitted.
The officer gazed at me, he looked into my eyes and told me to tell him everything I knew.
I told him everything how it was my husband who was driving that night and hit her. I cried, I sobbed, fear ran down my spine. I pleaded the officer that I was a mistake and he did not mean to. It was an accident. Nothing more. Charles was a good man and a good father.
By the time I finished my confession, I regretted everything I had just blurted out more than anything. I should not have lied because it was me who was driving that night. It was me who hit her. The officer unlocked my handcuffs. I walked out the room. I saw them arresting Charles. They pulled back his arms and handcuffed him taking him away. He looked at me,amazed. That moment seemed to last forever. His lips mouthed; ” What’s going on?” And I shrugged my shoulders and wiped away my tears.
I knew there would be serious consequences to my lie and I should not have blamed it on Charles. But what is done is done.

‘Favourite Food’ by Arsalan Ahmad

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The soft white layer of cream rests on the top like a blanket of snow on the peak of a mountain. It is sprinkled  with delectable goodness ; the lookalike of multi colored rocks on said mountain.  The irresistible fragrance of vanilla essence is the bringer of saliva on the inside of my mouth.

The richness and soft touch of the red flowery base brings image of roses to mind. However just one bite removes all traces of the idea as you lose yourself to pure absolute perfection. The little café always reminds me of something out of a storybook or fairytale. It has that picturesque look. Or perhaps it is only my imagination and the fairytale awaits me inside.

The waiter brings the basket laden with what appears as literally my thoughts plucked out of my head and made a reality.

It looks like a dream. It truly is one.  A little shove from my fork sends it tumbling down reminding me that it is perfectly cooked. A single lift into my mouth is enough to get me going. Fireworks explode in my mouth, as my taste buds tingle. The sourness of the cream cheese meshing so well with the overall sweetness as if God himself had done the measurements. I got to work as I devoured this extravagemt bundle of absolute joy, I felt complete. This bundle of velvety goodness  that will no doubt hold a place of great esteem in paradise is known to us common men as red velvet cupcakes.

Alone this treat is enough to send you to food heaven. Accompanied by the  beautiful , rich, creamy and absolutely mouthwatering chocolate ice cream milkshake you are all set to go to infinity and beyond. Ldies and gentlemen I present the foodies dream : red velvet cupcakes and chocolate ice cream milkshake, Delicious!

‘Q.People gather at places like malls,fair grounds,schools,sports fields,etc. Describe a crowded place in your town so that your reader can feel as if he/she is there’ by Zain Ajmal

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“Run…run as fast as you can!” Screamed Rick.
“We need to reach the gate.”exclaimed Rick.
It was not just an ordinary run.It was a race that our lives depended on.It was a zombie apocalypse!

We were running as fast as lighting.Sweat was oozing down my spine,my eyes were searching for the gate that was hiding in the mist.It was like an endless run.My ankles were pleading for forgiveness,and my head was throbbing as if someone was draining my brain out of my wide skull.

I could hear them behind us.Their voices were growing…it seemed as they were right behind us eager to grab us and cherish their long awaited hunger.The closer we got towards the gate,the zombies started picking pace.They were in sheer desperation to eat us by every limb.I could smell their presence everywhere.The town was flooded with zombies!The thick trees kept on growing and enclosing on my friend and me.Was this our final run?

The forest seemed as if it’s intention was not to let us walk out alive.Walkers were crawling out from everywhere like ants.My heart was pounding extremely violently,giving my lungs no space to breathe.I…I could not breathe.I could feel my heart beating faster every second and my lungs unable to pump.The forest was deserted,and there were no remains of wild life.It was an extinct to all sorts of species.The trees were growing pale and animals scattered all around with little or no life.The smell was overwhelming with the dead men walking.It was the world of the DEAD!

Running for my life,I lost track of Rick.I could feel his absence.Now the walkers had me for their lunch!The town was like hell on Earth,with no hope for people like us.The forest gave up.Now the old barren street got hold of me.Cars were wrecked and the buildings were enlightened with the presence of fire.The houses were isolated and left astray.However,the dead men filled our presence.

I could feel that I was closer to my destination.The leaves crippled under my feet along with my delicate steps trying to avoid the attraction of more of them towards me.After a while,there was a black rectangular shaped wall standing infront of me.It was the gate!The zombies pursued their run like wild animals.I tried to climb it,but it was like climbing a mountain.It grew longer.My foot slipped and my sweaty hands lost their grip,and I landed straight in the arms of my blood thirsty friends.They finally had their lunch….

‘Q.We all eat to stay alive,but everyone has a favourite food.Describe your favourite food/dish/cuisine’ by Zain Ajmal

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The thick crunchy crust controlling the cheese from flooding out is mouth watering.Small bean like pieces embedded in the cheese like a knot even make it better.Sprinkles of olives scattered around all over the the area.It is simply the best thing that could ever happen to me!

When it is placed in the cooking range,it turns out even prettier than before.The smell of it baking inside is like olives mixed with a touch of mushroom sauce.Looking at it in the cooking range,growing like a flower out of the bloom is love at first sight.The thin crust slowly becomes wider,thicker and crunchier!The cheese slowly drips down the crust,desperate to crawl out of it,so that it does not get swallowed by my mouth.

The moment it is placed on the table,I am eager to grab it and eat it in just one huge bite!The pale crust honoured with the presence of cheese filling is the first inclination towards grabbing it and eating it like a maniac.It is very hard to resist such desperation.Grabbing a piece that is twice the size of my mouth makes me forget everything and I just concentrate on the slice being in my mouth.The moment I take my first bite,the thick crust is crippled under my teeth making it soft and smooth.The presence of cheese along with it is very pleasant.The hot cheese,reaching every end of my mouth overwhelms my craving for it.Eating it requires peace,because then you can slowly feel the delicious mixture of ingredients compiled together and forming a round dish requires no disturbance.

The addition of mashed potatoes just makes it perfect.Taking one bite of it and a handful of mashed potatoes is absolutely amazing.My mouth gets filled with food and there is no space for air.I just keep on feeding as if I had been craving food for over a century.Nonetheless,it is my most favourite food that I can never abandon.It has been by my side like a guardian angel.It is my chicken cheese pizza!

‘AO2: Telling Rowdy’ by Ayesha Budhwal

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‘Telling Rowdy’ is an extract taken from “The absolutely true diary of a part time Indian”, written by Sherman Alexie. This extract revolves around Junoir, a boy who feels trapped on an Indian reservation, and his best friend Rowdy. The purpose of this passage is to entertain and besides that to, to draw attention to the hard life of a Native American child living in a Reservation. It is an account using first person point of view of Junior. This extract was written for young adults, children, or whoever is interested in reading fiction.

The tone of the passage is informal as Rowdy uses informal vocabulary words, other than that the tone is sad, even though Junior did not want to leave his best friend he could not stay in the reservation either

The main theme of the passage depicts the strong bond of friendship between Rowdy and Junior. The other theme of the passage is hope, hope of having a better future at Reardon which Junior never gave up on. The fact that Junior was the only kid on the Rez what had read “The tale of two cities” by Charles Dickens, shows that the schools at Rez lacked education and resources. The narrator makes a comparison between the kids at the Rez and the ones at Reardon, Junior says in his account that,”They were beautiful and smart and epic”. The kids at the Rez were drowned in poverty, and deprived of the basic necessities and opportunities of life, where as the kids at Reardon were the most privileged and more affluent, Junior uses adjectives like “smart” “epic” and “filled with hope”. This showed that the white kids were superior to those at Rez.

Junior uses a simile for hope to show how unreal it is for him, “like a mythical creature”. When Rowdy heard that Junior was leaving he couldn’t believe it. Junior wanted to change his life and upgrade his status, but Rowdy was not ready to accept that, and became angry. There was element of disbelief and shock present in the passage. Junior uses a hyperbole to express his seriousness about leaving, he says “I am as serious as a tumour”. Rowdy was very angry, the mere thought of losing Junior was quite disturbing for him. Junior say “My heart broke into 14 pieces , one for each year that Rowdy and I had spent together”, to reveal the strong bond of friendship that existed between them.

Junior is the protagonist of the passage and Rowdy is the antagonist, as he opposes Junior. Then Junior uses alliteration to emphasise pain and agony he felt, “Pain pure pain”. There was an element of negativity present in the later part of the extract, the comparison Rowdy made between Junior and the kids at Reardon, discriminating his best friend, show his negative thoughts. He exceeds his limits to stop his friend, he even beets him hard. Sound words were used to emphasise the situation and to show the severity with which he punched his best friend, “Bang”, “Bang”. Junior lay on the ground with the false perception that if he stayed still everything would turn back to normal, which obviously did not happen. Ironically his best friend became his worst enemy. The main conflict was whether or not would Junior and Rowdy be able to restore their friendship.
Junior describes how living on a reservation makes Indians lose hope, no one believes in them enough to support their ambitions. Junior is desperate to leave and break out of this poverty and the situation motivates him to leave. Junior is realistic about the fact that living on the Rez deprives him of many opportunities and he is extremely motivated to leave it and, start a new and better life at the Reardon.

‘A Crowded Place’ by Raja Abdul Muqeet

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It was Armageddon! It was the only word that could describe the hell I was in. From the moment I got here, there was nothing but red blood moving through the field accompanied by my metallic beast of mass destruction. In my hands was a filthy black mechanical inhabitant that spat out black beads of abomination that had saved my life more times than the number of hair on my body.

 

I was wearing a suit that looked like my grandma trying to protect me from the harsh winters, brown, heavy and tiresome attire. Covered in many layers of greased paint, green and black, huge machines that, like giant dragonflies, buzzed in the cloudless blue sky, headed towards the giant sand filled hills. Burning under our feet was hot, molten, brown metal, scouting for our enemies.

 

Boom! The earth trembled with the loud, screeching noise that dazed me. Standing on top of my giant snouted friend; I was laying on the hot sand that melted my skin, which seeped into the earth. Gazing into the sky, forgetting my mission, my ears buzzing, my eye could see only one see only one thing, red fluid. Red as the fields of rose, red as the beating heart, red as the drinks of vampire.

 

Hearing my comrades yelling “Get up!” or “Move it!” just made me want to close my eyes and lay on the sand that was now as comfortable as my mother lap. A figure appeared in front of my face. His face not clear, his clothes as dirty and filthy as a homeless man on the streets of New York. He pointed at me a black object and bang! was all I heard.

 

The worst part came after this, it was the sound of my mom “Dinner’s ready!”, with a load sigh which could scare a lion; I put down my controller and left, a boy who was anxious to play his new game “Battle Field 1”.

‘A Crowded Place’ by Muhaddisa Ali

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Bodies are packed against each other tighter than I thought was possible. Every second I have to be careful not to get smacked square in the face by someone’s flying elbow, or jumping knee. My senses are heightened to an extent I did not believe could exist; my brain is on an overdrive.

Music blares. My heart pounds in its symphony. Boom, boom, boom. I am surprised it is still inside my chest I hear chants here, and mindless screaming there. Distinguishing between the two is nearly impossible. People try to speak to each other over the din, but fail miserably. Their mouths can be seen moving, but the words cease to exist.

The loud music makes the very ground its slave too. This and the jumping of hundreds of people around me are making it bounce with such force that it is a miracle it did not just crack and swallow us up whole.

Every direction in which my head turns, all I see are bodies; bodies that are adorned with all sorts of different clothes, illuminated only by the flicker of a different coloured spotlight that snakes by every few seconds in the otherwise dark area; bodies that struggles to protect themselves as they are pushed hither and thither without concern.

It is hard to breathe. The limited oxygen that needs to be shared by so many people seems to be quickly decreasing. In its place, stale, humid air surrounds us like skeletal hands around our necks. The heat is almost unbearable.

The band on stage plays its songs, enjoying the attention, working hard to entertain and do what they love and we love. They are oblivious to our struggles. I can just barely see them over the sea od heads bobbing to the beat in front of me.

Anxiety gnaws at my stomach at the thought of the evn worse chaos that was to come when the time to exit came. The door is so far away. I was yet to endure countless more shoves, and countless more feet trampling over my own.

Red. Purple. Blue. Green. The spotlights flash around me haphazardly, sometimes directly in my eyes, blinding me momentarily. At this point, I wish only to finally make it out of this stuffed concert hall. I wish to be able to move freely again. I wish to get rid of the feeling of being so small. Instead, I remain locked in position for the next few hours, my head now pounding too.