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Posts by temptprovidence
Joined: Feb 22, 2013
Last Post: Nov 16, 2014
Threads: 8
Posts: 163  
Likes: 35
From: pakistan

Displayed posts: 171 / page 5 of 5
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temptprovidence   
Feb 28, 2013
Undergraduate / Issue of importance essay: Dishonesty in Sports! [5]

that was a good one with a lovely boost of idioms and proverbs:)... but there is no constancy of topic... every paragraph discusses a new... such as in second and third... its honesty and then sports respectively...

otherwise you have got a good expression... and one more thing... your only mistake besides innovation is the lack of commas:) othewise innovation is your just right...:)

well, what was the purpose of writing it anyway????? because if the this sudden change in the direction of topic is allowed or not:)??
temptprovidence   
Feb 28, 2013
Poetry / "when fate is really so true" (a piece of poetry) [11]

i have written some poetry just for fun... i want suggestions about its quality... welcome critics...!!!

here is one piece of my poetry...

WHEN FATE IS REALLY SO TRUE...!!!!

look beneath deep, behind the covers,
of my painful heart, my tearing nerves,
all night i dream, hope a tranquil,
in the morning, animosity is all i find to nurse.

where worries trouble people, there,
who knows what animosity means,
oh yes! a hatred to those you love,
a revenge to the extent what my heart reigns.

people ask for more, that is that,
what i can't show, where i've no word,
i cant fight fate in such a war,
where blood is mine that i owe to my sword.

in the trackless journey of my life,
where i step forward, but look behind,
my past assures me no future,
my present asks me to go back, rewind.

i had burnt this flame, strengthened it,
i wanted to burn out my dull past,
but now my flame is dying out, for,
i'm short of oxygen, with my ashes to last,

now i understand what suicide means,
such a living hell, so desperate,
no one consents to what i mean,
so i turn back to resign, owe back to fate.
...
this is the narration...

i think my creativity is suffocating..!! please help my thoughts out..!!:)
temptprovidence   
Feb 27, 2013
Scholarship / "Fly Like a Butterfly, Sting Like a Bee" Scholarship Essay about Muhammad Ali [2]

that was a beautiful narration... i liked the expression of emotions and felt them familiar to my inner-self... i am not good at grammar but to the extent i could figure out, i couldn't get any mistake...

plus if you get your essay on "Microsoft word" you will get them underlined in green where there is a grammatical mistake... hope it can help you to perfection...

and BEST OF LUCK:) reminding you to try "word" if you haven't... and its float like a butterfly... not fly:)
temptprovidence   
Feb 27, 2013
Scholarship / "work hard" and "don't give up" ; Personal Statement /Forge Scholarship [9]

time is approaching... may be it must be advancing ... in the sense you used it...
and also i will major in nursing... i dont find any significant clarity...

your deviation from topic is minute but i felt it to mount as you approached the end of the essay...

otherwise that was a great attempt and a good expression... i liked the way you used your vocabulary as easy for anyone... which is evident from no grammatical mistake... hope i wasnt critical... BEST OF LUCK...!!!:)
temptprovidence   
Feb 26, 2013
Writing Feedback / "a memory from my armed past" ; Enormous peaks of Himalayas [5]

I recognized him.. may be because he was in the camp, two beds away from where I came. And the twinkling of memory just brought with it the sense of nipping cold and the distant firing and burning ashes.. may be a burning past.

The reminiscence had something else in it too... Alas..!!! Not only those long waking hours in the camp... I stared longingly at the painted ceiling. My stare had all blank... with all colours...!!

...
It was the break of dawn when our practice campaign initiated. All the members gathered at the vast Karakoram Ranges. We were to head towards the enormous peaks of Himalayas ... The intense cold and the tough rigid landscape. It was the first campaign that I knew was going to be the toughest even before setting off.

Instructions were complete and we just had a week ahead of us. The stranded lands paced ahead of our sight. The rain tip topped over us in a light shower. The start was vigorous...!!!

I remember all was foggy. We quietly, climbing up and down, sometimes following, sometimes leading and helping. No clarity... we were being tamed.
I rarely noticed anyone so clearly that were with me. I conversed with those a bit who have been out like this with me before too. Some even those who were in the desert campaign with me. All intensities of landscape were known to us.. We the soldiers..!!

"Please!" I heard from behind me and turned back to help out the stretched hand. He was a boy of twenty-two or three and seemed to be on his first mission. Well, he haven't been before with us... none knew him. Our groups and packs changed every campaigned we had new to meet but the ones who have been before with us, and fortunately are in your pack for the next time... too see them was a warm sentiment. And whenever we saw a new one besides our indifference, we helped him getting used to it.. and that was nothing too humble! We Muslims.. Followers of Islam.. Brothers... WITH ONE GOD TO STRENGTHEN OUR RELATIONSHIP!!

Muhammad.. he told his name. A man in his great youth, and was quiet, with a big smile always congratulating our conversation. And so it suited his meek expression.

Once during our stay in the camp, I woke up to quench my thirst. Some of the companions were still awake.. chattering in low voices in an attempt not to disturb others and their laughter was illuminated by the fire.. and almost two meters away could be seen in a bowed posture. Anyone could have recognized him anytime... No one was so particular about his prayers... except for Muhammad.

Despite his vigour, he was a bit cowardly too.. the only weakness he had which he would certainly cover in his chosen profession.
But that was too little yet to note about anybody when you were out for a month with a pack of twenty or so to interact with. none can have interest in others' matters at least when there is going to be no special thing going to be a part of that relationship. "Formality was created for this!!", I thought as I smiled.

The campaign with its beautiful memories to continue ended. And i went home to my family. More came forward and one of our task was to roam in the streets in ordinary costumes... a very interesting one. And it was the month of March, the mid of spring, when we set off for Karachi. And then another dawn floated before my eyes. For the second time, Muhammad was with us. We were given a resource of money so that we could satisfy our provisions from the city. during this interesting time, we caught many target killers who never knew who we were. We were going successful in our management and the news that went to the headquarters were warmly welcomed.

But there was one thing too much irritating. It happened when during the fourth day of the week, it as Muhammad's turn to bring the lunch. When he got back, he brought a lunch of two for seven. We went furious, for the money he took with him was enough. But all he said was: "I just couldn't watch a mother desperate for a morsel for her baby.!!"

"You would end us up with starving!!"Sabeeh was damn furious.
"I'm sorry! Will be careful next time"
"You are still a child and in such professions, we cannot afford such leniencies." I tried to be polite. He nodded. his eyes staring at the pattern of the quilt.

And he didn't mean what he said. He did that again and this time we threatened him that we will complain to the seniors. And the silly man exclaimed, "He was going to spare a year of his studies. I couldn't help myself. I wanted him to be readmitted."

"Very nice" Saleem was critical. "Then use your pocket man!!"
"I will pay you back after the mission."
"We don't need it after that. Stupid! Jerk!" I exclaimed.
After two days, we were back home after the successful trap of the camp; one of those who were the major part of the target killers and a disguise of terrorism. Although, it meant just a practice but was a missionary one.

I was spending a great life with my family when one day, suddenly, we were all summoned up to the officers. We were told that the tragic war against terrorism in the tribal areas is needing us; with all boost of the aims and with our arms, we were sent as a fresh help from behind.

The terrorist were large in number. Not trained though but armed more than expectation. They were carrying out a bloody and disciplined approach towards us but slowly, were coming under us. When we reached there, we were astonished to see many areas being already conquered but this astonishment wasn't to last long. The Swat area was getting difficult day by day for Pakistan army and the terrorist help was concentrating there both men and weapons.

Blood curdling ashes, screams and terrifying bombing welcomed us .Using our arms in limited way, we started moving forward with the older army soldiers whose faces were painted black with the clouds of dust.

SOME of them were sent back. Our attack on arrival proved successful first but their foresighted strategy made us to suffer. They had huddled back of us and we couldn't comprehend their move and moved ahead...!!!

It was a bloody attack. Crawling on our bellies, we were already quite sore and accompanied by the shower of bullets from behind. We lost the foggiest notion of our plan, all coordination failed by this sudden shove. All bewildered, we couldn't answer the attack. Rolling in the mud, I dropped in a deep valley... Unconsciousness closed the spectacle...!!!

....
The hard tapping on my shoulder opened me up. Rescuers of army were hurriedly carrying us on the stretchers. My legs and right arm were still bleeding profusely.

The army doctors helped me with the removal of bullets and with bandage. I glanced all around the camp. Many like me lay wounded but getting healed up. A man in twenties two beds away lay unconscious.... With his right arm cut off ... the war was most pitiless for him.

....
My family surrounded me as soon as I was transferred to the hospital from the camp. All happy to see me alive. Most of the beds around had the same soldiers that were with me at the camp. Their families were with them and all seemed glad. Fresh flowers were put in the vases beside each bed as I watched across the ward.... Except for one!

....
I removed my stare from the ceiling and watched again. He was looking timidly at the other patients with their families and smiling; finding no one besides him. Mohammad was passing the same, typical, greeting smile. None of his family had yet arrived. No flowers were placed besides him .. No right arm strengthened his figure... My eyes blurred at the sight. I was desperate to meet him but my family's sympathies needed to be attended.

....
By the next day early I woke up finding my wife asleep on the bed next to me that emptied by the night. I sat up to meet Muhammad ... but the bed was empty. I wondered if he had been sent top his village ... may be ... Of course it was relaxing to me. He has found a shore and would be okay.

In the evening the nurse brought a file and told me I can go home within a day or two.
"But may be the battle field needs me!!"
"No! The mission is almost complete. God has supported our arms against those devils"
I nodded and smiled. Suddenly I felt disturbed and turning towards the nurse, inquired.
"Umm... That man... I guess named Muhammad.. is he discharged??"
"No, he expired last night" her expression saddened "well, he had no one here.... His parents died some years ago, both of them. He was badly handicapped and was alone. If he hadn't claimed his life, he would have been more desperate .... So... It was better for him... See!"

I cleared my throat, trying to dissolve the knot forming there. And what could I have murmured except for...
"He owes to paradise.. Ohh God.. He must!"

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