Pages From My Diary

Hello everyone, I'm back with a short story that I wrote while solving a past paper.  The question was: "write about an occasion when you discovered you could do something you had been afraid of doing before" so have a read at what I wrote: "Laiba, Laiba" I turned around as I heard my sports trainer calling me, "What," I asked nervously. I don't know why, but the sight of her always made me feel nervous. "You know, Abiha is on leave these days, so we'll need someone to participate in the hurdle race practice" she paused to take a breath, and my tension increased. "So I've picked you" she finished confirming my worst fears: I was never good at sports activities, especially running I used to fall down amid every trial like a total loser, and everyone used to laugh at me, and what was worse, after some time they started calling me "Laiba, the loser" that was the point I decided to quit thinking I was actually a lo...

 Shama was walking to and fro on her verandah anxiously, every now and then, she would poke her head outside the door, and look intently to the west, as if eagerly waiting for someone. "Leave it Shama, it won't be coming", said her husband. "No, I'm sure it will", she replied biting her lower lip, "Oh! look, he's here", she squealed in excitement as the postman appeared at the west corner of the village. "He comes here nearly every day, but never delivers at our door" groaned her husband taking a sip from his teacup. The postman came up in their lane. Shama stood eagerly in her doorway, waiting for the postman to reach their house, finally, a minute later, the postman reached their door, shuffled between the letters in his hands, and then passed forward, soaking down all of Shama's hopes. She stared at the postman as he went on delivering letters. She withdrew herself from the door reluctantly. "I told you, he would be dilute...

 He had his nose pressed against the glass door of the bakery, peering at the colorful and tasty-looking pastries, the glazy brownies, the sugar-coated biscuits, and all of the items at the bakery, just the sight of them made his mouth water, "How lucky are the ones who can afford all these things, I wish I too could pamper my taste buds with all these varieties" he thought. "Oy you, get lost", the guard yelled at him, and he instantly ran away. He was passing by a school building, looking at the students enviously, as they passed him in a hurry, bumping into him every other minute and uttering a low sorry, the one he could barely hear. "I wish I too could go to school, were those uniforms with the schoolbag, how proud then I would feel, and how honorable it would be for me to have the label of "Student", and be eyed as someone respectful", he thought, "Can't you please stand a little by the side, you've left no space to walk by...

 Cold night wind swept through his curly black hair, his fingers clutching the handles, were all numb, and the sound of wind whistling in his ears was drowned by the honking and rumble of traffic. Glancing at his wristwatch for an umpteenth time, he increased his speed, weaving his way through the traffic, and pulling up on the footpaths occasionally for shortcuts to arrive in time. He increased his speed at the full as he saw the signal turn yellow, to cross it before it went red, and narrowly whizzing past a car, he skidded to a halt at the edge line of the signal. The car he had nearly bumped into, pulled up beside him, and a middle-aged man stepped out of it. He wouldn't have paid him much attention until he came up to him, and started yelling, "Don't you know how to ride a bike?", ''What's wrong sir?" asked Harris, startled, "Now, I'll tell you what's wrong, ha". The signal had turned green, and the cars began honking to let the...

 "Ten minutes left", the teacher's voice echoed down the classroom, adding another layer of tension and nervousness that already gripped the classroom. All students had their heads bowed to their exam papers, their hands moving frantically to finish before the time runs out. Every now and then, the sound of shuffling paper would break in through the stiff silence that reigned over the classroom. Ahsan's head was also bowed against the paper, but he wasn't writing, his mind was racing constantly to solve an equation. Only ten minutes were left, and here he was, still dwelling on the fourth question. The teacher pushed back his chair and stood up to take a round of the classroom. Ahsan sighed and threw his head in his palms, his mind had gone totally blank from panic, and exhaustion.  He was staring at his shoes under the table, pondering over the equation, and racking his empty brain for a way to solve it, when his eyes landed upon a sheet of paper lying under the ...