CONSTRUCTIVE CRITISISM Oh...she was terrible! Her voice was too low and garbled, she did not look up, she was slouched in the chair and her knees were visibly shaking. I cannot believe her goal in life was to be a TV anchor woman. Of course, she was only 18 and this was only a Forensic competition. But, it was a District competition and the score I gave her determined if she would make it to the finals. I had put off doing my duty, as the parent of a speech team member, by being the judge for at least one Speech/Forensics competition. By procrastinating and waiting until the end of the year and judging the districts, little did I know that what I saw...what I heard and the score I gave them could affect the rest of their lives. As each student came in to be judged, I explained that, to me, they all deserved to get a (1)! (The perfect score) By the mere fact they were there, impressed the socks off of me. I cannot imagine getting up in front of my peers, or complete strange
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The next century
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Rishan is looking outside from his window. There is a storm outside. And the whole sky is red here. This is a strange planet. The whole sky is always red. And when those two moons come out in the night, then the planet seems like a grey sea. This planet is called Triton. It is the year 2567... now men are living in those planets. Because their old world is not fit for living anymore after a big nuclear war in the 22nd century.. Now there is a storm out side and also a storm inside Rishan's mind, he is thinking what Trisha just said sometimes ago," you are a coward.." He is thinking that.. Is he a coward? He closed his eyes and tries to think what he did all the life; yes he did not get any medal or anything like that.. He just tried to live a peaceful life. During every battle in his life he just surrenders without fighting. When he got any thing he has never tried to keep it. So everything in his life, he just lost to some one somehow. When he discovered the great theor
Mirror
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Mirror (PART-I) She had just come home from school"Mummy, I need a new uniform," said Rani, inspecting herself and was preparing to change. "Hmmmm," her mother peered over her glasses to look at her, and then returned to her needlework. "Actually, it is worn out at the pleats, and getting a bit small for me too." "OK, then let Saturday come and your Papa will get new fabric for you." A twinkle shone in Rani's eyes and she smiled happily. "Promise Mummy?" "Oh yes, dear! Now go and change into something more comfortable, and I shall give you some food." Saying so, her mother gathered up her needlework and went into the kitchen. Rani too quickly changed and got ready to have her lunch. "Mummy, can I have a new blouse to match too?" asked Rani, munching on a mouthful. "Yes, I guess that will be necessary" replied her Mother. "Oh great! I just can't wa
How about the short stories
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Dearest Jaanu , You are not here anymore and I have not seen you in almost a year. However, Valentine’s Day was always special to us. Now it is unforgettable. I was going through your stuff a few days back, after I finally found the strength to actually pack it up and I came across your diary – the diary you have addressed to me. Yet, you never told me about it. Your editorial instinct has filled it with neat marks and corrections on every page. I am just going to insert excerpts from it, because I am not capable of reproducing it with so much passion or detail. Dt. 14 January 2001 . “I stared teary-eyed at your crying form when I said I needed to leave. My bags are all packed and ready to go and the only question I cannot answer is “Why?” I do not want to answer that question. I have asked myself innumerable times in the last few hours and have not been able to justify anything that was going on. I am a logical woman, and usually good at what I do. As the editor for on