Daily Archives: November 29, 2016

‘My First Meeting with Mr Rochester Pg: 34 Q. Write an informal letter by Jane Eyre to her sister back home where she describes her first meeting with Mr Rochester. In your letter include the following: • How she was returning home from a walk and encountered Mr. Rochester • Describe their conversation and Mr Rochester’s looks • How Jane Eyre helped him Think carefully about the purpose of your letter and the audience for whom it is intended.’ By Zoraiz Syed

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House 1, Street2,

Sector 3, the Moor,

England.

Friday 4th, November

Dear Farkhanda,

I hope you are well. How has life been treating you? I hope you are surviving without me. I have to tell you something very important. I met Mr. Rochester today who is an extremely lovely gentleman. I have been dying to tell you the details and now I have got the chance!

So the meeting took place something like this. I was coming back from my walk when I heard the sound of horses. I stopped and stood at one side to let the horses pass as the path was narrow. As the horses came nearer and nearer, I thought I saw Aunt Bessies ‘Gyrtash!’ You remember how she sang us tales about it? The ‘Gyrtash’ came closer and closer but soon I realized it was not a Gyrtash, just a dog and behind it, a horse with its traveler.

Suddenly, as I began to move forward, I heard a loud falling sound. I looked behind and saw that the horse and the traveler had slipped on the slippery ice. The rider was making an effort to get off the horse so I rushed to help him, but he ordered me to stand still at a side and I obeyed. Soon, both horse and rider got up, but he was limping. Once more, I offered to help but once more he declined stating that it was just a sprain. However, he started moaning as soon as he started walking. In that exact moment, the light from the almost dark sky and full moon shone across him and, oh Farkhanda, what a man he was!

From head to toe, he was covered in a fur cloak with steel clasps. He had an average height and a beautiful, broad chest. In age, he was more than a young fellow but less than an old one. His face was covered in stern features; heavy eyebrows and angry eyes. I was not at all scared of this rigid looking personality. On the contrary, I was attracted to him! After fully examining the gentleman, I again offered my services to help.

I told the gentleman that I could not leave him, injured and wounded, at such a late hour. He replied by saying that at such a late hour, I should not even be outside. He questioned where I lived and I pointed to my abode, Thornfield Hall. He asked me about the owner of the house. I informed him about Mr. Rochester, whom I had never seen and had no clue about his whereabouts. At that time, I did not know that this gentleman was, indeed Mr. Rochester himself! He asked me about my occupation and I told him that I was a governess at Thornfield.

Finally, he agreed to my help and I was much delighted! He asked me to get his horse. Normally, I would have been terrified to even go near a horse but this time I happily complied. However, the horse was very excited and would not let me even come near him. Mr. Rochester laughed and called me back. With the support of my shoulder, he got up, limped towards the horse and with much effort, got onto the saddle. He then asked me to get him his whip and after searching and finding it, I gave it to him. Lastly, he ordered me to return home as fast as I could and he rode off.

So, Farkhanda, this was my meeting with the handsome Mr. Rochester. I was extremely happy with this meeting and I am looking forward to more. I am also looking forward to see you soon too! One day, I am going to make you meet Mr. Rochester and you will properly understand what I am talking about! See you soon.

Lots of love,

Jane

‘Q. Write a formal letter by Anthony Bourdian to the owner of the restaurant regarding the extreme work conditions. Include the following in your letter: How he felt when he got the job, give details of his work place. What was the place like? How it felt to be there. Think carefully about the purpose of your letter and the audience for whom it is intended.’ By Haya Aman

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                                                                                                       Anthony Bourdian,

                                                                    West Hardwood Drive,

                                                                                 Apartment 101,

                                                                    Manhattan, New York.

                                                       Monday, 14th November 2016

Owner of the Rainbow Room,

McCarther Boulevard,

Privet Drive, House 18,

Manhattan New York

Subject: Complaint Regarding Extreme Work Conditions.

Dear Sir/Madam,

It is my duty as a humbled employee of the Rainbow Room to inform you of the severe work conditions in the Rainbow Room kitchen.

I found myself very pleased upon hearing of the acceptance of a job at Rockefeller Center’s Rainbow Room which is situated on the sixty-fourth floor of the the Rockefeller Center in New York. It was an exceptional opportunity to contend with competitive restaurants of the same grandeur and standard. The Rainbow Room serviced about two-hundred people while the Rainbow Grill sat about one-hundred and fifty. In addition were two lounges where food was accessible along with an entire floor dedicated to banquet rooms–all food was to be provided by one lone, central kitchen.

The work environment within the kitchen left a great deal to be desired. It in no way reflects the glamour or luxury outside. An elongated table leaned against one wall, huge walls of fire raging up. Mere feet away, separated by a narrow strip of flooring was the workplace which in front of stood a long steel counter. This counter was occupied by steam boilers which were constantly boiling. The cooks fought for air in the steam clouded kitchen. Dry steam awashed one side of the hardworking chef while moist steam heats the other side. It was not possible to work there in such insufferable conditions. These conditions aroused safety hazards as cooks would pass out due to lack of air circulation.

When the center rings were lit for direct fire, the hoods above would burst into flames causing a fellow co-worker to thoughtlessly trample over us all in his haste to extinguish the fire before the fire alarm detected it.

While working in the Rainbow Room’s kitchen was a matter of great deal and pride as well as a privilege; it was also insufferably suffocating and impossible to work in. Chefs would be sodden with sweat within ten minutes. Chef’s necks and wrists suffered from inflamed pink skin and heat rashes. It was chaos and utter calamity within.

I am confident you were unaware of the extreme falling standards at Rainbow Room’s kitchen and will try to immediately mend it as the work condition is beyond our coping abilities.

Yours faithfully,

(Signature)

Anthony Bourdian

‘My most frightening moment’ by Zarah Kazmi

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My heartbeat was all I could hear and feel as I waited. Waited for someone’s help, waited for someone’s hand to pick me from the stairs I was seated on. A small lump was gradually being formed in my stomach and a feeling of nausea evolved around me. Even the slightest clatter or commotion made the hair on the back of my neck to stand up. Fear gripped me in its icy fingers and my heart pounded as I waited once again.

 

A sudden sense of fear ran through my nerves like the chill of an icy wind once I realized that there was no one next to me. My delicate hand was hit several times and no one held it. My spectacles searched and searched but no sight of my guardian was visible. An exodus of unknown workers, mother, children, shopkeepers, had engulfed me but no one was present for my aid. I started shaking like a winter leaf, expecting this feeling of breathlessness to vanish. As the people

 

Around started to disappear in thin air, as the sky changed color, my face turned red just like the veil of twilight, which was covering the horizon at that moment. My hands became as cold as the metal rod of the abandoned shop’s entrance that I was holding in the fear of being taken away.

 

It felt like centuries since I last made a move. Frozen; as I stood, even my capacity of thinking became still. Sweat poured down my body as I heard; “meow”, from my left ear. I saw a feline figure from the corner of my left eye. The figure moved away. Now even breathing had become impossible. As I tried to inhale the air around me I whimpered with affliction. My once agile knees had become weak because of the loss of oxygen.

 

Finally I let out my emotions, which were sinking in slowly. Tears and cold sweat started trickling down my face and I screamed until my voice became hoarse. Few elements of my helpless voice echoed back. My throat had become dry and thirst had made my lips chapped. Eventually I stopped crying which was also becoming hard, and I stared at my ghastly palms which had turned as white as the gown of a newly wedded bride. I waited because no other option was left for me in the stock.

 

This new feeling of extreme loneliness was hard to evaluate by my young and immature mind who only thought about the dolls my mother was supposed to buy me. The thought of my mother made my heart fall into my stomach and I gulped hard. I wondered why she left me in this black hole where there was no turning back.

 

I tried to move a leg but a thousand thorns pricked me at the same time. I tried to move my head sideways but the horror of seeing only dark hindered me. The last option was to clatter my teeth and shiver uncontrollably which my body did with ease. A layer of mist had started to form around me like a rush of bees and its intoxicating effect was getting on me. The scene in front of my eyes turned hazy. The streetlight, the only source of light, also disappeared in the dark. Thud! My body fell on the stair next to me as I went into a deep slumber of fears…

 

My fifteen minutes siesta was full of nightmares, which even made my unconscious self petrified. A pair of yellow flashlights eventually broke it down. My heart came back in its place, the sweat on my palms vanish, tears on my visage dried up, the clattering and shaking calmed down; as I realized that help had finally arrived.

‘AO2: If only papa hadn’t danced’- Zarah Kazmi

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This is an extract taken from a story, “if only papa hadn’t danced”, written by Patricia McCormick.it is a narrative short story written in the 1st persons point of view. The point of view is of a young girl who is leaving her country with her parents because the country is no longer safe for the family to live there. The main theme of the extract is “freedom”, with other sub-themes such as family’s love, discrimination and hope. The two main purposes of the extract were, firstly to entertain and secondly to make the audience aware of the feeling of being free and content. The audience; however, can be considered as anyone who is interested in reading fiction

 

The tone of the passage was very suspenseful as the audience was not aware of what will happen next. By including words and phrases like, “he didn’t say a word…” “Papa’s mat was empty”, the author really makes the audience wait for the next scene, which is usually thrilling. The author deals with one major theme that is ‘freedom’ and how desperate the family was to get it. “Mama crawled…kissed the man’s boots.” “I saw papa dance”. These phrases show that they would do anything to get freedom and once they got it, they were elated. Other sub themes such as family’s love, discrimination, are also a part of the extract. When papa begs the man in orange jumpsuit by saying, “take me… spare the woman and the girl”, it shows how much he cared for the family and loved them dearly.  By saying, “I want you to be the first one in our family to taste freedom”, Papa shows his love for his daughter as he wanted her to enjoy freedom first as she was the youngest in the family. Elements of discrimination are seen when we are introduced to the unjust ruler who “robbed the poor and made himself rich”

 

The author has adopted a semi formal style of writing by using rich vocabulary, “invincible”, “unyielding”, “piteously”. Dialogues are also a part of the story when the family is having conversation among themselves or with the man in the orange jumpsuit. Elements of sadness also occur right in the starting when mama exclaim by saying, “this is our homeland”, “and no one wants her over there”. This shows how sad and distressed she was to leave her homeland. The author has also included several symbols for example; Papa, himself, symbolizes strength and courage, Papa’s dance symbolizes happiness, joy and a sense of freedom and eventually the setting sun symbolizes the new found freedom the family attained.

 

The punctuation consisted of ellipses and dashes (“surely our luck wouldn’t hold again…I watch him disappear”, “jumpsuit-had mended with links”).  They contribute by adding suspense and emphasis in the passage. This passage includes short paragraphs (“mama knelt in the shallows…cover her tears”) as well as long ones (“then we got down…tight with wire”). By doing this, the author creates diversity in the passage and makes it more informal. The sentence structure contains all three types of sentences; simple, compound and complex. (“this is our homeland”),(“papa came over and said I was needed”),(“in a fence when a thorn bush grew”)

 

Figurative language is also a part of the passage. Author has used similes such as “uncoiled like a snake”, hyperbole  such as “seemed like a lifetime until he returned” and metaphor such as “horizon was edged with pink”. These provide the audience with a vivid description of the passage. Imagery is used when the daughter is describing the fence, the border, the man (“it was that I saw… pistol in his back”). This also gives us vivid description. Visuals of  a crocodile and the border also a part of the extract.

 

The feelings of all the characters are similar. They are sad to leave their homeland, “you will miss it”, but also happy to taste freedom. The author has cleverly used all these elements to tell us what freedom feels like. After reading the passage one knows what it is like to be independent with no restrictions, worries or boundaries.

‘Q. Write an article for your school magazine covering the details of Isabella Bird’s adventures. Your article should include the following: Describe the following What Isabella did How one of her adventures came to an end/ How she finally found a place to stay. Think carefully about the purpose of your article and the audience for whom it is intended. ‘ By Haya Aman

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Wonder Woman!
Isabella Bird, adventurer from England survives after being lost in the Rocky Mountains.
By Haya Aman
Thursday, 22nd November 2016

How brave are you? Brave enough to combat the harsh weather conditions of the Rocky Mountains? Or brave enough to persevere at nightfall on said mountains looking for some phantom shelter with a questionable reputation? Perhaps it’s stupid, perhaps it’s brave but Isabella Bird was both. Upon assessing the conditions she lived in, Dr. A.Q Khan awes at how Isabella Bird survived against the odds.

To be so fearless, especially in 1873 when nary a comfort or luxury existed, is no joke. As a famous poet once said, “The brave may not live the longest–no–but they are surely the most valiant and remembered.”

The reader might be imagining lush, thick, green forestry on the Rockies. No; instead picture being encumbered in numbing cold, victim to frostbite, teeth-chattering cold.

Roads reaching a solid 11,000 feet high, rough, gloomy and unwelcoming. Pine trees surrounded the narrow winding road shading the dark road further. Along this bottomless pit, lie five houses. The loneliness perhaps threatened to suffocate had it not been for the back and forth of the miners and the luggage trollies.

When the darkness fell it was ominous! The snow had frozen back into icy planes you would not be able to see your own hand in front of your face. In these dire circumstances, Bird made her way through the slit like canyon with a gushing river right besides her. Many sounds sounded, some not easily explainable, others more rationally explained as a tree’s bark breaking.
Now I think everyone can agree that Isabella Bird’s a brave woman after what is mentioned above. Still not convinced? Allow me to proceed then. Bird traveled through the mountains alone with the exception of her trusted steed Birdie.

 Bird would travel fifty or more so miles daily. She risked her life and had close to death encounters more than once. She did not allow lack of the human population in the area stop her or scare her off. Isabella Bird was a lady of perseverance. When night fell and Birdie skidded on ice repeatedly Bird’s quick thinking and wit told her to put the men’s socks she had picked up at Perry’s Park on Birdie’s forelegs; a feat she managed to pull off in obscure darkness.

By the time the horse’s hooves ripped through the socks they saw the almost mirage-like flame of a campfire. Two hunters sitting huddled together on the hillside. At the edge of the ravine sat something she assumed were buildings and hence her sanctuary for the night. They made their way through the river partly swimming and partly walking reaching the warm building that promised them comfort, even if only for a night.