Friday, 31 January 2014

IV D: mY ClaSs LiFE

My class LIFE

Akhil faizal

I present this work to my family and my friends
                                                          authour's words
          This is my first literary work. In brief I would like to present my humble words of imagination and reality to you. Please you read and make your valuable comments. With great expectations...
 To the readers
            This is to read. Not to skip off. The characters in this work is real and the story is based on my true life. And this work is done by a small kid, not by a great writer. Wish you a happy reading.
akhil's sketch of his school


                                I, Akhil Faizal lives in Saudi Arabia. I go to my school with enthusiasm of learning and playing.  According to the Saudi rule classrooms for the students should be bifurcated in the lower grades itself. It means girls and boys should be in different classrooms in totally separate premises. Once we were shifted into a new laaaaarge and magnificent building in the heart of Riyadh city. It was a medical university building before we get accommodated in the new building. I got chance to appear for second summative assessment in the building with extended facility. To reach the classes we have to pass through a bridge crossing a busy road which we cannot see from the bridge corridor. The take-off portion of the bridge consists of the administration office.
After the summative assessment without much delay I got my report card which showed the next class I have to go. It was as follows: 
You are promoted to IV D. 
But it was not a surprise to me. Because 70% of the children were promoted to the same class. But the most glad thing was my best best friend Shaheel was promoted to the same class. Yayayaya! I got excited for a moment. But I realised at once:
"Oh! No. Why do you punish me god? Why do you plan to send Shaheel to India. I never expected that he will be leaving the school."
                   But in the same second, I remembered what my best best best best bro said:
"If a friend goes, another will come."
New Class, New Friends and New Teacher
        For the first time I entered the boys section. The entrance to the school is from a car parking area bordered by road, a masjid, school and a vast ground which is used for Eid prayer. The entrance bloc has two gates. Left side is for girls and right side one is for boys. Both are leading us through a corridor crossing the road parallel each other. To reach the bridge to cross the road we have to step up spirally. We may have the feeling of labyrinth. Landing on the second floor, at a water dispenser we have to turn left. Then my classroom: IV D. The last classroom in that line. I saw my class. Our class was in the second floor. It means on the top floor.  We could see the ground below. I happened to see the seats had already occupied by some children. I sat in the laaast row. Many of the classmates came later. I felt missing Shaheel. Ghanim, my another clossssse friend sat next to me. My Malayalam classmates were also found nearby. Someone said that a teacher named Mrs. Noorjahan will be our class teacher. She is a good teacher. Never she was punishing the children giving the punishments like kneeling down. But she was not our teacher.
I heard a new name. It was quite new for me. She was Mrs. Thabsy Byju. She came in. But still no one wished because they all thought that she might have come to the class by mistake and we got confused. We were expecting Noorjahan teacher.
The majority of the class was interested in a special game named odd or even. We were playing that game with fingers, unexpectedly teacher came to the class. I wished teacher with some of my friends. I thought she would punish us
"Good morning children!", Teacher said to us.
"Gooooooooddd moaaaaarniiiiiingngngngngn teaaaaaachchcherrrr."We sang in a tired mood.
"Teacher, are you our class teacher?"Asked Aadam Ayub, the No.1 headache to the teachers in our class. Aadam's saliva sprayed onto the face of Farhanuddin. He turned and cleaned it and looked him with hatred. Thabsy teacher replied:
"Yes, and today's period will be anyway spent for introducing ourselves. I'll start from my left side. Before that teacher introduced herself.  She asked the first one:
''Dear, what is your name?''
He was a joke sharing friend in the class.
He replied:
She turned to a boy who was in my Malayalam class and said:
"I know your name, Basil."
"Yes, teacher." Basil said.
I understood why she knows him. He is Noorjahan teacher's son! She asked one by one and to Ghanim. He replied:
"Gyaanim."He said keeping his hand in hairs.
"Can you say properly?" She asked. Everyone giggled and he blushed. I too blushed.
"Ghanim."He said.
"No teacher, Ghanim."
"Teacher, Ghanim. M. M. G-H-A-N-I-M."
"Ok. Ghanim."
"What's your name?"She asked me.
"Akhil Faizal."
"Akhil. A-K-H-I-L"

She went on asking. Every period went on that way.

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