I felt expelled and exiled‚ sitting in a room filled only with a bed. White walls which painted no imagination‚ no hope just emptiness; yet they still assured me I was meant to be here. Every day was the same as the last‚ every memory I captured had slowly escaped. I was considered dangerous‚ vile and out of control; these words constantly surrounded me‚ swirling around in the echoes of the halls. 15 years I have been here‚ and still not once has my voice box being strained. Everyday new comers
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The life of the Indian Muslim woman is shaped by her dual identity as an Indian and a Muslim. The just and fair tenets of Islam as a religion often do not come to the aid of the Muslim woman‚ posited as she is within the hierarchical Indian tradition and the male dominant Muslim community. The minority status of the Muslim community in India leads to the privileging of community identity over gender identity and basic human dignity is often denied to the woman. The Muslim male orthodoxy rigidly and
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Descriptive Writing Task The aim of this lesson is to write a piece of original writing about a deserted house. You and your friend have just finished school and on the way home and you need shelter from the sudden change in weather. You see a deserted house and decide to enter it. Describe in detail the appearance of the house and the path that leads up to the front door. How do you feel as you approach? What type of door do you enter? Imagine that you have gone through the doorway
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Hijab. There are many views with regard to Hijab in Islam from the Muslims themselves. The issue of Hijab can be analyzed from several perspectives. Firstly‚ the Islamic view on Hijab‚ the importance and benefits to society at large and the world view of Hijab and the women wearing Hijab living in the Western hemisphere. However‚ some Muslim women believe that the wearing of the Hijab is the right and the choice of the Muslim woman. They are not forced or pressured to wear a veil and they are not
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Theme = Belonging and Alienation *** = Time shift Jim left the as it bellowed dust when it left taxi the gazed on the side of the dirt road and saw the farm where he grew up‚ it was old and bare‚ like an African village‚ the animals were thin from the drought. As Jim walked down to the gate‚ his childhood memories came flooding back and he hung his head in disbelief at the state of the farm. “Hey son! Come in.” Jim continued to the brick farmhouse‚ greeted by his father‚ 6ft with a beard of
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The Calling I opened my dry aching eyes and immediately felt the pounding in my head. With regret on my breath I stumble into my petite bathroom. I go about my normal morning routine‚ but in a more sluggish way‚ and put aside the fact that it is three in the afternoon. All I wished to do was crawl back in bed‚ but I was being forced to attend this youth group at the church down the street. Hating every bit of my life at the moment‚ I throw on the dress that I secretly shoved in my bag last Thursday
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Ryan’s Story – Untitled so far You stay in your room like a locked away Rapunzel. Well not locked in fact – matter of the choice rather. It’s like fiery dragons attack you every time you attempt to escape your temple. You study‚ you work‚ study again‚ read some‚ then you study some more. It’s the same repetitive routine throughout your days between the same four egg-white walls. ‘No common sense!’ you are told. ‘None what-so-ever’‚ burns your delicate skin. What are you supposed to do? Visit
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Re-creations ESSAY PLAN A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM * descriptive piece on how I envisage my MSND‚ takes place in an arboretum‚ been there before several times‚ tranquil‚ beautiful‚ magical‚ mysterious‚ near a small village behind local pub‚ old church opposite‚ pub was once a nunnery in 16th C‚ joined to church by underground passage‚ nun attended trees‚ honesty box * my dream‚ walk towards shallow pond‚ barefoot‚ warm day‚ ot sweaty or overheating‚ long golden hair‚ nude but not exposed
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She woke early one Saturday morning with the room a dim yellow as the sun searched for a way into her room. As her mother entered the room‚ she drew back the curtains‚ and the bright rays of sun warmed her face. The wind entered her open window on that beautiful June morning‚ and it tickled her nose as it reached her. “Up‚ up‚ up‚” her mother exclaimed. “It’s a big day today‚ and you can’t stay in bed another minute! We have an appointment!” After minutes of battling her bed‚ she finally managed
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Jack heaved the creaking door open until he had created just enough space to squeeze through. As he stepped cautiously into the dark room‚ a cloud of dust awoke from where it had sat dormant‚ making Jack’s eyes water. Clearing his throat quietly‚ he looked around‚ before perching precariously on the corner of a cluttered desk. Jack picked up the nearest thing to him; a stained taupe1 leather diary‚ locked with only an abandoned cobweb‚ the key long since scuttled away. Opening the fragile cover carefully
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