Presentation is loading. Please wait.

Presentation is loading. Please wait.

It took me long to choose the topic for my Year Book write-up. Finally, I decided to pay tribute to my ideal leader Benazir Bhutto and pen down my memories.

Similar presentations

Presentation on theme: "It took me long to choose the topic for my Year Book write-up. Finally, I decided to pay tribute to my ideal leader Benazir Bhutto and pen down my memories."— Presentation transcript:

1 It took me long to choose the topic for my Year Book write-up. Finally, I decided to pay tribute to my ideal leader Benazir Bhutto and pen down my memories and feelings that I have hardly shared with anyone. How lucky I have been to see her, to meet her and to preserve valuable memories of a great human being. Benazir Bhutto was an ideal lady, a great leader and the first female Muslim Prime Minister of the world. We respect her for all the qualities that rarely combine in one person; a loving mother, a sincere friend, a social worker and a brave person. Highly inspired by her is not only me, most of my friends, all preachers of democracy, and everyone who knows or reads about her, becomes her fan. She still is an ideal for almost all women in Pakistan. She is the most popular leader of Pakistan, who taught us how to live, how to struggle, and how to sacrifice for a mission and a cause. She was born in Karachi, Pakistan, on 21st June 1953; she lived a difficult but highly inspiring life. A brave lady, who took challenges and, truly speaking, never lost. She won, if not in the battle field, but the actual war. She ruled not the land, but the hearts of the people. She lived not only in this world, but in the soul, thoughts and memories of her followers. I remember the day I met her and she hugged me with love; I still feel the love and warmth; it was in February 2005, when she came to Jeddah and I went to meet her with my parents. She was so kind and caring; I can never forget that short but impactful interaction. I will always cherish it in my memories, it was indeed a great day for me to meet and know a great leader. She was tall like her stature, beautiful like her nature, confident and kind; I got deeply inspired and developed a very special love and affection for her. With growing admiration my curiosity grew to learn and know more about her and her life. I started watching and following news and I realized its not only me; she has hundreds and thousands of devoted people around her, who love her, who live for her and wish to sacrifice for her. She was above all; she sacrificed her most precious life for a cause, for a mission and for a sovereign and democratic Pakistan. Courageously, smiling and waving the crowd, she left the world crying for her, on a very tragic day 27th December Thousands of cameras captured her last smile and millions of eyes shed tears. In fact the whole world wept, she left us…..but No, how can she leave us? She is Shaheed and Shaheed never die, they live forever. She left behind us a commitment, an art to live and strive to achieve our objectives. I believe somewhere in the heaven she must be smiling, showering her love and affection and giving courage to live. I Love you, I salute you, our beloved leader, Benazir Bhutto. By Mashael Kamran (Y/10-4)

2 Becoming senior means: Setting examples for junior school & achieving high goals. Senior stand for: Studying Enjoying Number 1 Ideal Obedient Regular / Responsible Student Rayyan Ahmed Y6-3 Being senior means: to be more productive. Think about the world, be active and be polite with juniors so they can copy and respect you. Syed Muhammed Murtaza Rizvi Y6-3 Being senior means to be: responsible, respectable, disciplinary, experienced, and educated. It is to be an example for the juniors to learn from the seniors based on their experience. For being an example for the juniors, seniors must behave well themselves. Abdul Hannan Y6-1 Being senior means: to be Serious to do Enthusiastic work to Never lose hope to be more Intelligent to become an Opportunist to be Realistic. Seniors Rock! AbdulWahab Syed Asif Y6-3 Being senior means: more advanced studies, more responsible and becoming mature. Our behavior should be at its best. Teachers should be the most important thing in our school lives. Maria Sohail Y6-4 Being senior means: to become mature and responsible. You should take care of yourself and be sure to listen to your teachers. You should behave nicely. Eisham Sarmad Y6-4 Being senior means: to be responsible for our actions. To become mature and be sensible. Teachers are not there any more to spoon-feed you or to tell you whats wrong and whats right. Youre mature enough to think for that yourself. So… Good Luck! Yamna Khan Y6-4

3 The name of all the continents all start with the letter they begin with. No word in the English language rhymes with month. The longest one-syllable word in the English language is screeched. There are only four words in the English language which end in – dous: tremendous, horrendous, stupendous, and hazardous. The longest word in the English language, according to the Oxford English dictionary, is Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanokoniosis. The only 15-letter word that can be spelt without repeating a letter is uncopyrightable. The combination ough can be pronounced in nine different ways. The following sentence contains them all: A rough-coated, dough- faced, thoughtful ploughman strode through the streets of Scarborough; after falling into a slough, he coughed and hiccoughed. Dreamt is the only English word that ends in the letters mt. The word set has more definitions than any other word in the English language. Underground is the only word in the English language that begins and ends with the letters und.

4 Jokes …. Ha, ha, ha……. What is the ghost parent called???? Trans-parent By Ahsan Waseh (Y6-2)

5 I stared at the calendar, wondering how long it had been since I had stepped out of my house. How long it had been since loneliness had knocked on my door and I had let it in. How long it had been since…since… I stopped myself right there, not wanting to go on and relish those memories. Memories that had been washed out by my brain but still remained intact with my heart. Deep inside, lying there in a corner bred those memories. I turned my attention back to the calendar, trying to figure out what day it was today. It was the 23rd of October. It was Halloween. Memories of this day flooded back to my mind as fresh as ever, obstinate to let my soul rest in peace. I am Jack Wilson, and this is my story. Exactly twelve years ago, my daughter, Teri, and I used to wait for this day more than anything else, practically worshipping it. However, I never thought for a second that the same day would turn my life into a wreck, a miserable scenario. Never knew that this day, I would give up hope and quit living. My life was an ideal and quite a despised one with Teri and my wife, Gina. On Halloween, exactly twelve years ago, my daughter went trick or treating with her friends, as usual. She had assured me that her friends elder brother had volunteered to supervise them, and having known the boy myself, I let her go. However, hours ticked by and there was no sign of Teris footsteps on the front door, not even the faintest trace of them. Naturally, I called her friends and was told that none of them were back. My wife had set her mind to call the cops, but I held her back, assuring her that nothing could possibly be so serious. Well, I was wrong. Suddenly, the doorbell rang and the pair of us rushed towards the door. My wife threw it open, and we were blinded by lights, that glared at us from all directions. Stepping into the threshold was a cop, with an anxious, almost dead look on his face. I felt my heart slow down, as if getting ready for the worst. Nevertheless, it was none whatsoever prepared for what came next, for the cop took his hat off and said, ever so solemnly, Mr. Wilson, I am sorry to report to you the death of your daughter, Teri Wilson. These words hit me like thunder, only the effect was everlasting. I looked around at my wife, who was equally paralyzed. My senses all stopped working. I felt as if in the middle of a nightmare, about to wake up any moment. But no, of all the realities I could have got written in my fate, I had to get this one. Teri was gone, forever. Teri was gone, never to come back. Gone, left the pair of us, forever. I was brought out of my reverie by my wife, who ran forward to grab the collar of the cop who had informed us of this terrible news. She shook him, and demanded, Where is Teri? What have you done to my baby? I tried to calm her down, but it wasnt easy, while she demanded of me Jack, please tell them to give me my Teri. Jack, I want my Teri back! I was informed that Teri had been a most unfortunate victim of a hit and run accident. I held on tight to Ginas hand. She was the last thing on Earth I wanted to lose. I looked down at her, feeling her slow and troubled breathing on my chest. All of a sudden, she lost consciousness. Shouting for help, I felt her pulse. There was a soft thump of pulse against her skin. I scooped her up and ran towards the ambulance; its sirens fell on deaf ears. I laid her down on a stretcher and they put an oxygen mask on her. I still held o tight to her hand, strongly believing that this would make her unable to leave me. She finally opened her eyes, but only to utter her final words, Jack, I am going to Teri. Jack, Ive found my baby. After that, no matter how hard I begged her, she would not come back, despite the fact that her hand was still in mine. Her hand fell and the oxygen tank stopped pumping. Tears filled my eyes, but they were nothing compared to what I felt inside. The truth, though bitter, was that Gina and Teri both had left me in this selfish world, with loneliness as my only companion. I still urge myself to move on, to get over it, but my mind wont listen to me. These remorseful incidents have left me divided into two separate parts; a part that wants to move on, and a part that advises me not to do it. Now, I sit all alone in this huge bungalow, with loneliness creeping up behind me. I looked outside the window, staring at the shadow cast by the over- sized tree in the backyard. I looked at the unpleasant green bushes and the tall needle-like grass. I went into the kitchen, searching for some candy for the trick or treaters. I found only a bag of chocolate and some jelly beans. However, I did not in the least expect for any child to come up to my house, even on Halloween. None, except for Dennis. I admit it; my bungalow does have a creepy look, and the rumors about it being haunted make children even more unlikely to make their way towards it. Dennis had moved in next-door three weeks ago. He alone had taken the courage to come and knock on my door. I felt overjoyed, thinking that I wouldnt be the victim of loneliness anymore. Nevertheless, Dennis hadnt paid a visit in quite a long time, but he had promised to come at Halloween. The last time I stepped out of my house on Dennis advice, my blood pressure had slowed down. I had become such a loner after Gina and Teri that sometimes, I had prayed to God to take me to them. Twelve years. Twelve years had passed and God had still not listened to me. I guess it was time I did something for myself. I pulled opened the side table drawer and took out the shotgun from it. Gripping the cold and heavy metal gun with my sweaty hands, I stared at it. All I had to do was to pull the trigger, as it was already loaded. That would make me join Teri and Gina once more. Keeping my intentions firm, I placed the gun to my head and a slight movement gave me all that I wanted. I pulled the trigger and heard a loud bang. Everything within sight was no more. I regained consciousness at the sound of pounding at the front door. I got up from the floor and stared back at my corpse which lay heavy on the floor. I knew why I hadnt been taken up by God till now. Dennis. I opened the front door and in stepped Dennis, dressed in a Count Dracula Costume, oblivious of what had just happened. Mr. Wilson! he shouted. He opened the kitchen door and found to his surprise, a note from Mr. Wilson on the counter. He read aloud, Dear Dennis, I am very sorry I couldnt be right here now to watch you little Halloween tricks. Your treat I left on the table which I guess you might already have taken. Dennis, my boy, you have been a great friend to Mr. Wilson, and I want to tell you that now is the time when I return to my family. It is time God has called me. Dennis smile turned into a look of astonishment. He continued, Dennis, I have lived my life and it is time you live yours. Life is very brief and you never get a second chance. Live this life to the fullest before it gets you, and you become another Mr. Wilson. Dennis, be a good boy and because Ill be watching you, and enjoy this gift of God before it is taken away, because loneliness wont wait by the door. It will creep right in and through you and you wont be able to ignore it: no one is. Lots of love, Mr. Wilson. Everything around me blurred. Instantly, there was nothing but white light. My soul was about to rest in peace. I was going to rejoin Teri and Gina. The thing that lifted my soul, creating inner peace was that I had made a difference to someones life, and as they say, Create a difference, create a change.… By Name… By Mawra Idrees

6 Your sacrifice is not that of the soldiers, for they sacrifice their lives for the country and earn a name, while yours is the one made everyday, every second and that too, without been taken into account. Your depth is not that of the seas, for it its reachable, while yours is so deep, its beyond the reach. By Hira Amin Y6-4

7 It was a cool silent autumn night that sent the wind crashing against the trees. The bugs sang in their chirping voices. The owl wailed in a distant tree. The full moon in the night sky sent down its beautiful shimmering light. The full moon always looked beautiful in the sky, but tonight, it added to the creepy looks of the woods. I sat, hugging my knees, near the campfire that shone brightly on my face, blinding my eyes. Shivering with fear and cold, I stared into the fire, wondering, why I had agreed to do such a creepy and fearful task? Maybe because the stories of an evil spirit invading the woods on a full moon night irritated me, or maybe because I had completely lost my mind! Regretting my decision of being a hero and spending a full moon night in the woods and proving that there are no such things as phantoms or evil spirits, I buried my face in my knees. God! It was so cold! I tried to think of some positive aspects of staying in the woods at night, but I didnt seem to come up with any. The loud growling of my stomach pulled me out of my thoughts. I got up from the cool dry dirt, and made my way to the shed I build with a couple of sticks. I hunted blindly for the bag of marshmallows as the campfire was built away from it and succeeded in finding it. The owl wailed again, but this time it wailed as if sending a warning. Shaking off the fear, I tore open the marshmallow bag and poked it on a stick. The marshmallow turned gold-brown in an instant. I popped the toasted marshmallow in my mouth and enjoyed it melt in my mouth, oozing hot against my cold mouth. The wind sent another shiver up my spine. I reached for another marshmallow and it started picking up its pace. In an instant, the wind started screaming and slammed dirt on my face. It blew out the campfire and slammed hard against the shed I had built. I got up quickly, numb from cold, and made my way carefully to the shed, being afraid of getting blown with the wind. And if that would have happened, I thought smiling, the newspaper would have a headline: Daniel Smith, Gone With the Wind! I entered the shed and crawled helplessly inside my sleeping bag. My brain forced me to recall the books I had read on phantoms, and they usually said that the entrance music of a phantom is the screaming of the wind and the howling of the owl. My opened wide in fear. Panic and fear crawled up the back of my neck. I had the sudden urge to run away from the woods and never return. Get a hold of yourself, will you? I demanded myself. There is no such thing as phantoms or ghosts and you are proving it. I shut my eyes tight and pep talked myself to sleep. My eyes opened in an instant as the owl howled again, accompanied by the wailing of a dog. This time, the wind blew in the opposite direction it was blowing first. Now, the shed I had built was running along with the wind. Was it my imagination, or I seriously saw something moving from the corner of my eye? A huge shadow cast beyond me. I could hear faint footsteps which were heading towards where I was sleeping. I shut my eyes tight, not wanting to see whatever it was. The curiosity of watching what it was mixed with fear made me open my eyes again. But now, the shadow was gone. And the wind started blowing steadily again. Having enough of excitement for a night, I closed my eyes and went back to sleep again. Waking up with the sun pouring dazzling heat onto my face, I opened my eyes and smiled triumphantly, celebrating my victory. The woods looked less creepy and were very appealing to the eye at day time. I started picking up my sleeping bag when a thought suddenly struck my mind, What was the shadow of? Maybe it was a phantom after all. With that shuddering thought, I vowed to myself to never prove any phantom legends wrong. By Anas Idrees Y10-2

8 Y 4-3 Ayesha Khalid: Being a famous artist and painter. Y 4-3 Marya Fakhr: Drawing nicely. Y 4-3 Muhammad Sajid: Driving a spots car. Y 4-3 Syed Attaur Rehman: Being successful in education & manners. Y 4-3 Asad Abid: Getting 1000 action figures. Y 4-3 Nidal Nadeem: Being a kind Muslim. Y 4-3 Ammar Tasawar: Preaching Islam and being a scientist. Y 4-3 Kainat Naseer: A new beautiful doll. Y 4-3 Mustafa Shahzad: To be super hero. Y 4-3 Hajra Being a queen in a castle. Y 4-4 Arifa Amin Being a beautiful princess. Y 4-4 Mohsin Hafeez Getting a billion dollars lottery ticket. Y 4-4 Burhan Being the king of the world. Y 4-3 Fatima Tasleem Making my parents proud Y 4-3 Nawal Adil Khan Achieving 1ST position, giving zakat, preaching Islam, Having a swimming pool. Y 4-4 Baber Dreaming about the Earth in front of the sun. The sun makes the Earth look like a bun. Y 4-3 Ali Ahmed Eliminating noise from Jeddah. Y Y 4-4 Danial Going to the Paradise. Y 4-4 Omer Making my class the best in the School. Y 4-4 Urva Mudassir Having a safe and successful Pakistan. Y 4-4 Ahmed Majeed Having a big home, 105 puppies, 65 cats, 5 parrots, fishes, Car, motorbike and furniture. Y 4-1 Haniya Sabeeh Summer vacations Y 4-1 Nashwa Being a cook. Y 4-2 Aisha Qazi Being a teacher, checking students work. Y 4-2 Ahmed Saghir Being a soldier and defending my country. Y 4-2 Fahad Being a businessman. Y 4-2 Maham Masood Being an architect. Y 4-2 Hisham Javaid Being an astronaut. Being a doctor Abdullah Zubair, Waleed Ahmed, Ali Waqar, Haleema Zafar, Muhammad Abdullah, Iqra Mansoor, Shaheen Mahmood, Rabiyah Nadeeem, Maryam Akbar, Amina, Qasim, Shiza.

Download ppt "It took me long to choose the topic for my Year Book write-up. Finally, I decided to pay tribute to my ideal leader Benazir Bhutto and pen down my memories."

Similar presentations

Ads by Google