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"{The veil is lifted}"

My name is Shamshair Ali. I come from Pakistan and I have interest in writing skills.

  • (The veil is lifted)


Muhammad Saghir Qamar This is the scene of a Pakistani rural school. On the banks of a mountain stream, relatively high, but on a flat ground, in the distance, small, small, big, white children are sitting in rows. These diamonds wrapped in black clothes from their homes They have brought pieces of sack. Those who did not have access to a piece of sack are standing on their own rocks. These people were hiding in the bushes by marking their own rocks before the holiday yesterday. In view of this fear, the next day someone else "Don't take over. Classes have started at school. The children, as usual, have opened their rotten bags and are sitting. No sound can be heard from the noise. The children are pulling each other's ears. (Continued) Some are trying to play cricket. Some are clinging to the foot of Master G's chair and some are still asleep. After a few more moments, they will fall asleep. Some climb on the shoulders of others and chant slogans. There are a few minutes left till ten o'clock. Suddenly the senate starts in the class. The middle-aged master walks towards the chair holding "Mula Bakhsh" in his hand. Signs of fatigue are visible on his face. He barely puts his heavy, low body on the broken chair. The classroom is over. Now it is getting slippery. The bags have started to open. Master G looked from left to right half-open. He took a long nap and challenged a child sitting in the front row, stroking his almost bald head. "Hey Ghafoor! Get up and read the first story to the children." Ghafoor, whose parents must have named him Abdul Ghafoor, stood up holding his torn old book. Master Ji said to him again, "Hey! I can't stand up straight." "Has the hood been haraam?" Ghafuratan stood up and shouted with his lungs wide open. "Waris's school; this is Waris's school." "It has eight rooms, it has a big playground, drinking water and chairs to sit on." Abdul Ghafoor screamed. He is talking and the children are screaming and repeating. Suddenly there was a commotion in the second row. A child's napta is standing. He wants to say something to Master G. It came out of his mouth with great difficulty. "Master! This heir's school is very good. Why isn't our school good? There are chairs, rooms here." "Sit down. Sit down. Roll number 15 has told you a thousand times." Don't be wise; it is the school of the heir. "And" these are the "Master's" of the heirs. "Take it out!" Said Master G after a pause. The boards come out with a rattle. The sonata stays in the classroom for a long time. Master G takes a quick look at the class and spreads his legs. Now he is half-length, the spectacles are on the tip of his nose. "Write," he says to the children, and the children's hands move like machines. Become Inverted letters are moving on the boards. There is silence for a few minutes. There is such silence that even the sound of a pen can be heard. It is a daily routine. The children are writing and Master Ji is completing his sleep on the chair with complete oneness. Master G's snoring is starting to emerge. There is also a shura in the classroom. "Master Ji! Akram is copying Ji." "Master Ji! Aslam has broken the medicine." "Master Ji! Master Ji! Karamat applies the brakes." "Master Ji! I want to drink water." "Master G. Y. Y. Y. Y." "Shut your mouth." Master G. swells up and sits up. "Come here, come here, roll number 13, it's very naughty, grab it, ears." Master G turns roll number 13 into a rooster and sticks. It rains on this little soul who has hardly made any noise, but Master G thinks it is necessary to repair one to scare the other children. Repairs are also like sweeping around with a sack. "Hey Aslam's children! Get up and read the mountains." Master G orders another student. Aslam wakes up wiping his nose with the sleeve of his shirt. He looks at roll number 13 and then screams. "Ak dooni do, doodoni char." The children recite aloud with the same loudness as Aslam recites. Aslam has read and memorized the mountains; now there is no noise in the class. The dargat of Roll No. 13 has forced everyone to remain silent. The class has sniffed the snake. "Masterji Naseebullah Makamarta Hai Ji" suddenly a loud voice is raised. "Who kills? Who kills?" Master G rises loudly as if electrocuted. He took a long nap and calmly leaned his neck. A few moments later he sat up a little and looked at the class with squinted eyes. "Hey, what's your name, Fazal Dad's son?" Master G tries to identify a boy. "Akhtar Ali is my name." The child stands up in fear. "Come here." He comes closer in shock. "Go out; Rafiq Pardesi is a hotel, no." "Yes, yes." Akhtar comes to life. "Bring two cups of tea from there." "When the boy starts to leave, Master G shouts. "Listen, O son of Fazal Dad, what is your name? Less sugar, less leaf, give him two or four jellies." ․․․ And listen! I don't want to lick the jalibis on the way. لیا You heard جی "Yes, listen." Akhtar goes out saying this. Now let's turn to the Master G class. "Hey Khalil's children! What's your name? Yes, roll number 18, come here." The boy comes to Master G's chair, panting and trembling. "Where is he? My thing Jokel asked for." "Master Ji challenged. "Yes, mother was saying that the hen did not lay an egg yesterday. Yes, the hen has become a little sick." "Baby hen! Don't vaccinate her." Go on vacation and vaccinate the hens; the day after tomorrow you must bring eggs. "Okay yes" and roll number 18 picks up the bag and goes to treat the chicken. His face looks as if he has conquered a country. "Nikalvardo's book" Master Ji took the ring and cracked it on Dandazman. "How the letters are connected." "Read ․․․․․ Book ․․․․․․ R ․․․․․ y ․․․․․․․ Goat." Children also read ․․․․․․ Book. ․․․․․ ر ․․․․․ ی ․․․․․․․ بکری. ”“ بے الف با ․․․․․․․ بے الف با ․․․․․․ بابا ․․․․․ الف مدآ ․․․․․․․ Babaa ․․․․․․․ Che Alif Cha, Che Alif Cha ․․․ Chacha ․․․ “Master Ji could only read a few sentences that the smell of tea and jalebi forced him to take a break done . Tears welled up in their mouths, so the rest of the reading was done by them. Roll number eleven, they shouted, "Hey, sit up straight" and the children started sliding on the pieces of the sack. The children were looking at Master Ji with longing eyes. They are sipping tea stuffed in their mouths. After finishing the tea, a long bellows came out of their throats. "Hub hub hub, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on." Boiling There are so many belches and cigarette smoke left that the holiday bell rings. Master G lifts his body from the chair with difficulty, tired losers leave the class as if he has done a favor to the last seven human races. ․․․ "Tin Tin Tin" (At the same time the veil falls rapidly. Remember that this veil falls on the minds of the rulers)

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(The veil is lifted)

Muhammad Saghir Qamar This is the scene of a Pakistani rural school. On the banks of a mountain stream, relatively high, but on a flat ground, in the distance, small, small, big, white children are sitting in rows. These diamonds wrapped in black clothes from their homes They have brought pieces of sack. Those who did not have access to a piece of sack are standing on their own rocks. These people were hiding in the bushes by marking their own rocks before the holiday yesterday. In view of this fear, the next day someone else "Don't take over. Classes have started at school. The children, as usual, have opened their rotten bags and are sitting. No sound can be heard from the noise. The children are pulling each other's ears. (Continued) Some are trying to play cricket. Some are clinging to the foot of Master G's chair and some are still asleep. After a few more moments, they will fall asleep. Some climb on the shoulders of others and chant slogans. There are a few minutes left till ten o'clock. Suddenly the senate starts in the class. The middle-aged master walks towards the chair holding "Mula Bakhsh" in his hand. Signs of fatigue are visible on his face. He barely puts his heavy, low body on the broken chair. The classroom is over. Now it is getting slippery. The bags have started to open. Master G looked from left to right half-open. He took a long nap and challenged a child sitting in the front row, stroking his almost bald head. "Hey Ghafoor! Get up and read the first story to the children." Ghafoor, whose parents must have named him Abdul Ghafoor, stood up holding his torn old book. Master Ji said to him again, "Hey! I can't stand up straight." "Has the hood been haraam?" Ghafuratan stood up and shouted with his lungs wide open. "Waris's school; this is Waris's school." "It has eight rooms, it has a big playground, drinking water and chairs to sit on." Abdul Ghafoor screamed. He is talking and the children are screaming and repeating. Suddenly there was a commotion in the second row. A child's napta is standing. He wants to say something to Master G. It came out of his mouth with great difficulty. "Master! This heir's school is very good. Why isn't our school good? There are chairs, rooms here." "Sit down. Sit down. Roll number 15 has told you a thousand times." Don't be wise; it is the school of the heir. "And" these are the "Master's" of the heirs. "Take it out!" Said Master G after a pause. The boards come out with a rattle. The sonata stays in the classroom for a long time. Master G takes a quick look at the class and spreads his legs. Now he is half-length, the spectacles are on the tip of his nose. "Write," he says to the children, and the children's hands move like machines. Become Inverted letters are moving on the boards. There is silence for a few minutes. There is such silence that even the sound of a pen can be heard. It is a daily routine. The children are writing and Master Ji is completing his sleep on the chair with complete oneness. Master G's snoring is starting to emerge. There is also a shura in the classroom. "Master Ji! Akram is copying Ji." "Master Ji! Aslam has broken the medicine." "Master Ji! Master Ji! Karamat applies the brakes." "Master Ji! I want to drink water." "Master G. Y. Y. Y. Y." "Shut your mouth." Master G. swells up and sits up. "Come here, come here, roll number 13, it's very naughty, grab it, ears." Master G turns roll number 13 into a rooster and sticks. It rains on this little soul who has hardly made any noise, but Master G thinks it is necessary to repair one to scare the other children. Repairs are also like sweeping around with a sack. "Hey Aslam's children! Get up and read the mountains." Master G orders another student. Aslam wakes up wiping his nose with the sleeve of his shirt. He looks at roll number 13 and then screams. "Ak dooni do, doodoni char." The children recite aloud with the same loudness as Aslam recites. Aslam has read and memorized the mountains; now there is no noise in the class. The dargat of Roll No. 13 has forced everyone to remain silent. The class has sniffed the snake. "Masterji Naseebullah Makamarta Hai Ji" suddenly a loud voice is raised. "Who kills? Who kills?" Master G rises loudly as if electrocuted. He took a long nap and calmly leaned his neck. A few moments later he sat up a little and looked at the class with squinted eyes. "Hey, what's your name, Fazal Dad's son?" Master G tries to identify a boy. "Akhtar Ali is my name." The child stands up in fear. "Come here." He comes closer in shock. "Go out; Rafiq Pardesi is a hotel, no." "Yes, yes." Akhtar comes to life. "Bring two cups of tea from there." "When the boy starts to leave, Master G shouts. "Listen, O son of Fazal Dad, what is your name? Less sugar, less leaf, give him two or four jellies." ․․․ And listen! I don't want to lick the jalibis on the way. لیا You heard جی "Yes, listen." Akhtar goes out saying this. Now let's turn to the Master G class. "Hey Khalil's children! What's your name? Yes, roll number 18, come here." The boy comes to Master G's chair, panting and trembling. "Where is he? My thing Jokel asked for." "Master Ji challenged. "Yes, mother was saying that the hen did not lay an egg yesterday. Yes, the hen has become a little sick." "Baby hen! Don't vaccinate her." Go on vacation and vaccinate the hens; the day after tomorrow you must bring eggs. "Okay yes" and roll number 18 picks up the bag and goes to treat the chicken. His face looks as if he has conquered a country. "Nikalvardo's book" Master Ji took the ring and cracked it on Dandazman. "How the letters are connected." "Read ․․․․․ Book ․․․․․․ R ․․․․․ y ․․․․․․․ Goat." Children also read ․․․․․․ Book. ․․․․․ ر ․․․․․ ی ․․․․․․․ بکری. ”“ بے الف با ․․․․․․․ بے الف با ․․․․․․ بابا ․․․․․ الف مدآ ․․․․․․․ Babaa ․․․․․․․ Che Alif Cha, Che Alif Cha ․․․ Chacha ․․․ “Master Ji could only read a few sentences that the smell of tea and jalebi forced him to take a break done . Tears welled up in their mouths, so the rest of the reading was done by them. Roll number eleven, they shouted, "Hey, sit up straight" and the children started sliding on the pieces of the sack. The children were looking at Master Ji with longing eyes. They are sipping tea stuffed in their mouths. After finishing the tea, a long bellows came out of their throats. "Hub hub hub, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on." Boiling There are so many belches and cigarette smoke left that the holiday bell rings. Master G lifts his body from the chair with difficulty, tired losers leave the class as if he has done a favor to the last seven human races. ․․․ "Tin Tin Tin" (At the same time the veil falls rapidly. Remember that this veil falls on the minds of the rulers)

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