Thursday, October 12, 2006
Grade 11 Event Writing by Hari Amrit Singh
The Grade 11 class was given an assignment to write about an event from their own lives. We were exploring the line between non-fiction and fiction when writing about autobiographical events. Here is one of the results from Hari Amrit Singh:
What defines reality? How does one tell the difference between dreams and reality?
Seven months in and I would hardly wake myself up for Japji any more. The last three months had been blended together like strawberries and bananas in a smoothie. No calendar, no clock, no perception of time at all. That was the best plan I had to get through the last half of the year painlessly.
It all started just like any other Thursday: Japji, P.T. , breakfast, school. I was happy because the day after Thursday is, of course, Friday and then my favorite day, Saturday.
Sports came around awfully quick after school. After formation nothing happened and I was automatically at yoga formation. I couldn't recall sports, and everyone wasn't speaking except Houman, who was holding formation.
After that formation, the same thing happened again. I felt the nothingness for a split second and then I appeared again, but this time in a conversation. I was the only person speaking and I couldn't stop. I went to sleep and feel into deep thought once again.
I woke up tired. The day before was a long day for me. I started this day with Japji, PT, breakfast, school -- the normal Friday schedule. This time the day went slower and I would recall every aspect of sports, no memory synapses today, but I kept feeling overly redundant and repetitive. I decided to go to sleep early that day. It would've done me some good to get some rest and then there was a town leave the next day, and I could sleep during that.
I was overjoyed. I had been waiting all week for this day, and finally I would get the rest I needed. I dreamed of home as I drifted off to sleep only to be wakened after what felt like seconds later.
"They called it!" came the soft but indescribably sharp scream through the crack in the door and into my ear.
I sat up immediately, got my clothes on and ran outside. It was still dark outside and the moon shone in an unusually large nature.
They had already started Japji so I sat down next to my friend S.P. who had bags under his eyes the size of cantaloupes.
"What's going on, man?" I asked him. "We're not having GT trip today? What happened?"
"Dude!" he replied with sarcasm. "It's Friday."
The Grade 11 class was given an assignment to write about an event from their own lives. We were exploring the line between non-fiction and fiction when writing about autobiographical events. Here is one of the results from Hari Amrit Singh:
What defines reality? How does one tell the difference between dreams and reality?
Seven months in and I would hardly wake myself up for Japji any more. The last three months had been blended together like strawberries and bananas in a smoothie. No calendar, no clock, no perception of time at all. That was the best plan I had to get through the last half of the year painlessly.
It all started just like any other Thursday: Japji, P.T. , breakfast, school. I was happy because the day after Thursday is, of course, Friday and then my favorite day, Saturday.
Sports came around awfully quick after school. After formation nothing happened and I was automatically at yoga formation. I couldn't recall sports, and everyone wasn't speaking except Houman, who was holding formation.
After that formation, the same thing happened again. I felt the nothingness for a split second and then I appeared again, but this time in a conversation. I was the only person speaking and I couldn't stop. I went to sleep and feel into deep thought once again.
I woke up tired. The day before was a long day for me. I started this day with Japji, PT, breakfast, school -- the normal Friday schedule. This time the day went slower and I would recall every aspect of sports, no memory synapses today, but I kept feeling overly redundant and repetitive. I decided to go to sleep early that day. It would've done me some good to get some rest and then there was a town leave the next day, and I could sleep during that.
I was overjoyed. I had been waiting all week for this day, and finally I would get the rest I needed. I dreamed of home as I drifted off to sleep only to be wakened after what felt like seconds later.
"They called it!" came the soft but indescribably sharp scream through the crack in the door and into my ear.
I sat up immediately, got my clothes on and ran outside. It was still dark outside and the moon shone in an unusually large nature.
They had already started Japji so I sat down next to my friend S.P. who had bags under his eyes the size of cantaloupes.
"What's going on, man?" I asked him. "We're not having GT trip today? What happened?"
"Dude!" he replied with sarcasm. "It's Friday."
# posted by MPA Student Work @ 2:15 AM 
