Thursday, 9 May 2013
A JOURNEY --- BY TEHREEM FATIMA
It was mid August and the Monsoon rainfall had recently started to pour, converting the harsh climate into cold. That day, the pale blue sky had been covered by thick grey clouds and a constant breeze blew with occasional shifts of showers. I sat beside the person who had meant so much to me. In my lap, sat the nine year old orphan, confused and puzzled by the situation.
'Why isn't dad speaking to me? He lays silent... is he angry?' My innocent child inquired.
'No honey! Dad's fast asleep. He was very tired...' tired of life, I thought comforting and hugging her close to my chest.
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My husband had died after two years of serious illness. Before his death, he made me promise to visit Karachi where my parents lived. He believed that I needed them to be able to survive and up bring our daughter. So, keeping his words in mind, I packed necessary possessions and headed towards the local railway station. Komal, who was not used to such crowded areas, asked, 'Why are we here, Mommy? Let's go back.' I had no possible excuse to her request.'There is no going back in a journey or life.'
We confirmed our tickets and walked towards the train. It was over-crowded with men and women laughing and chatting; children playing and babies whining. The cabin was noisy and dusty. As we sat, Komal began peeping out of the rust window. She was puzzled to see so many strange faces and repeatedly asked, 'What if I get lost, Mommy? Will you find me?'
I replied, ' We will never part, dear. Never!'
The golden times of my marriage; Komal's birth; a life without grief and worries flashed in my mind as peace entered the cabin. The train had started and somehow the noise lessened. I began reciting Quran with all my devotion. Komal commented every now and then on the things, images, places her eyes witnessed but I paid a little attention. We passed by several stations and were half way through when a loud bang crashed the peace around. With a sudden jolt, the train stopped. The blast happened in the last cabin. Panic spread all over; cries and wails mourned every inch of existence; lives ran from one end to the other... I grabbed the hand of my petrified girl and hurried to the cabin door. It was a complete chaos. People fought and pushed each other for safety. I tightened my grip on Komal's hand and jumped into the crowd. We struggled and finally found a way out!
It wasn't long that another bomb blast quaked the area. Fire rose. Black clouds of smoke. Flying metals. Roars. This time the bomb exploded from our cabin. Blood and flesh scattered everywhere. People begged, moaned and yelled for help but no one listened. Komal, frightened and horrified, started weeping and trembling with fear. I could not control my tears too. we hugged each other and cried for a long time; we had just survived death. We'd defeated Death.
Thursday, 2 May 2013
THE PORTRAIT OF THE CRYING BOY ---- BY KANZA GHAZANFAR
It was a cold December night. 'Move in the last box, Elanor!' shouted Mrs.Jules who just recently moved into a big isolated mansion with her eight year old Elanor. 'This is the place,' said the man who helped them find the house. There was something wrong with him. Perhaps it was the big dreadful scar he had on his face, or may be the strange feeling one gets in some people's presence. His name was Virgo. Little Elanor went inside the house because she was scared of the dark night and the big foggy garden of their new house.
'Come on, mommy. let's go inside. I'm sacred.'
'Alright, then let's go.'
She stood close to her mom holding her hand tightly.
It was strange that when they entered, all the lights in the house were turned on. 'Who turned all the lights on?' Virgo didn't reply.
'Who lived here before?'
'You need not know that. That's none of your business,' he replied.
They saw the hall had an octagon shape with four staircases. On the ground floor, there were rooms in every direction they looked at. If you looked at the top, you would see a chandelier hanging. Elanor looked around and saw that her mom and Virgo were not there. She opened a random door and saw a room which seemed creepy, though it was full of beautiful paintings. Elanor took a close look of each painting. they were all dusty. It seemed, no one had been to that room since ages. As she walked, she passed by a mysterious portrait. It was a portrait of a boy crying. She started staring at it. Meanwhile Jules came in. She too had a strange feeling when saw that portrait.
Late at night, Elanor saw shadow of a boy. She followed it. The next morning, her mother saw her staring at the same picture. 'Come on, Elly! It's time to go to school,' she said. It seemed, Elanor hadn't slept the whole night. Her mother dropped her off to school. Everyday Jules would find her daughter staring at the face of the boy. It continued for two months. One day, Jules was called for meeting with Elly's teachers. They all complained; she didn't try anymore to perform well and told that she had not been able to adjust there for the past month. Mrs. Jules became worried day by day. Elanor had lost interest in taking part in any conversation.
One day, the mother, too, saw the boy's shadow. She followed it quietly and was stunned to see it slipping back into the portrait. She got a glimpse of the boy's face in the dark and could not believe her eyes. It was the same portrait her daughter kept staring at every day. Scared, she ran to the kitchen. All the plates and dishes started shaking. She screamed. Nothing came to her mind that night. She couldn't close her eyes for a single second. The next day, she called Virgo. 'Where are you? Come over right now!' He didn't come home but asked her to meet him nearby the house. She could not stop tears falling from her eyes.
' Who is he? What does he want from us?'
After much hesitation, he said, 'It happened forty years ago. He was my servant; Philips. A nice boy he was. He never wronged me and my family but we did. He wanted to study and was very good at studies too but I wasn't. We all teased him, insulted and played with his self respect. My father used to beat him hard. one day, the beating killed him. Soon I saw him again. He never left us. Perhaps you have noticed the scar on my face; it's his nail. Leave right away or you shall not be spared either.'
'But Elly's there.'
'We can pick her and leave immediately,' he said.
They couldn't find Elanor in the entire house. As they entered the room of pictures, they saw a horrible sight.
Jules screamed painfully. Philips was eating her flesh. Virgo forcibly took Jules out for she was not ready to leave. Running towards the door he said, 'Hurry, he has killed my family. I am the next target!' He shouted. Philips chased him like wind and came very close to him. Blood dripped from his mouth. He squeezed the neck and killed the man in no time. Mrs. Jules was spared. She remained in that very house and, grief and misery killed her within a few days.
eSSAY wRITING cONTEST
I know it's late but it's never too late...
Among the prep three classes of boys, Ruwail Ali and Asad Mehmood have secured the First and Third position respectively. the result is declared after so long that we had almost forgotten it was held :). Anyhow it has brought a pleasant surprise to me and i am sure to them as well. Well done Prep III S.
Among the prep three classes of boys, Ruwail Ali and Asad Mehmood have secured the First and Third position respectively. the result is declared after so long that we had almost forgotten it was held :). Anyhow it has brought a pleasant surprise to me and i am sure to them as well. Well done Prep III S.
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