Daily Archives: March 7, 2017

Write an informal letter by Jane Eyre to her sister back home, where she describes her first meeting with Mr. Rochester. In your letter, include the following: • how she was returning home from a walk, and encountered Mr. Rochester • describe their conversation, and Mr. Rochester’s looks • how Jane Eyre helped him Think carefully about the purpose of your letter, and the audience for whom it is intended. By Jibraeil Aatif Anwar


Yorkshire, England

September 6, 1788


London, England

Dear Elizabeth,


Hello, beloved sister. How are you doing? And is the rest of my family doing fine as well? I just wanted to tell you about something delightful that I have just recently experienced, a random encounter that was very unique and very intriguing, most definitely, indeed.


You see, I was just going down a narrow pathway, back to the Thornfield Hall, when, all of a sudden, I saw a horse coming down the pathway. I thought it might have been the Gytrash that Bessie used to tell us about as kids, but it was not; a dog sprang out of the hedge, and it was much more like that mythological creature. It gave me quite a spring, and made the bones in my body bend until they were fractured wheels, until it turned out that it was just some ordinary, harmless, black-and-white dog. I was the governess of the daughter of the owner of the Hall, Mr. Rochester, so it was best for me to hurry up on there. However, considering how narrow the path was, I decided to wait until the horse had crossed the path, so I sat… waiting, waiting for Eternity to just embrace Death with open arms. All of a sudden, however, I heard a slip, a thud and a crash, as the horse had slipped over an icy surface on the pathway. The dog, which was owned by the horse’s rider, immediately rushed over to its master, and tried to help him up.


I felt worried for the man, who looked as though he were of high rank. Also, it was late night, and I was the only other person present, so I decided to go up to him, and ask him if he was alright. He said he was fine, and attempted to get up himself; I could tell, from this gesture, that he was an independent man, who hardly relied on others to get the job done, and he was successful in getting his horse to stand up. When he struggled with getting up on his own, I decided to go up to him a second time, and ask him if he was alright… but he again persisted, saying that he could do it on his own! He insisted that it was only a sprain, no broken bones, so I trusted his words, that he was just fine. He did eventually get up, and as soon as he did, his appearance could catch any random bystander’s eyes’ complete and utter attention: he had a dark complexion, a stern and heavy brow, irritated eyes and eyebrows, and seemed to be the kind of person who was past his youth, yet had not quite reached that confounded middle age. Because of these things about him, I would be shameless in helping him out unmasked, with my face as clear and light as day.


I offered my services to the man, inviting him to come with me to his home… but he said I ought to be at my home! He did ask me where I came from, to which I responded below; by below, I meant Thornfield Hall, of course. The home of Mr. Rochester, this Hall was, but I told the man that I could not tell him where he was at the moment, because I myself was not sure; I had not even met him face-to-face, yet. The man tried to scan me, but I simply told him that I was a governess, to which he responded with a request for help — a request to grab his horse’s bridle, and lead him to his master. I was terrified, but I decided to try it, anyways. Alas, I failed, but at least I tried… though, on the other hand, the man did it fast, and did it better! He then only asked me for his whip, which I handed over to him, and afterwards, he was off on his jolly, merry way, proud on his horse, with his dog following the both of them. I have to admit that this was quite an encounter; I had a lot of mixed feelings about it, but at least I got to meet somebody, and I am glad that he’s now feeling okay thanks to me (mostly thanks to him, though).


Sadly, I must say goodbye, cousin, for I must go to the Thornfield Hall as quick as a little rabbit; it is getting awfully late, anyways. Take care, though, and be sure to write your own letters to me, about what you’re up to lately. Farewell!


Your sister,


Jane Eyre




Write a formal letter by a local man living in Lyme Regis, Dorset to the concierge of the Natural History Museum living in Piccadilly, London on the archaeological discovery of Mary Anning. It should include: • what Joseph discovered • what Mary discovered • what has been the impact of these discoveries, and what should be done, i.e. the relics should be brought to the museum Think carefully about the purpose of your letter, and the audience for whom it is intended. By Jibraeil Aatif Anwar


Lyme Regis, Dorset

June 17, 1918


Piccadilly, London

Subject: Mary Anning’s discoveries

Dear Sir,

It is hoped that you are not being disturbed, but the undersigned needs to talk with you about something regarding the discoveries of Mary Anning, which have just recently come to the undersigned’s attention.

Firstly, the undersigned would like to discuss the discovery made by her elder brother, Joseph, with you. It is remarkable that he managed to unearth something so rare, and so unknown to our scientists. The discovery that he has made was, if it can be recalled correctly, an enormous head of a fossilized creature, four feet long, the jaws filled with sharp, interlocking teeth, and eye sockets that were very large, holding one complete eyeball and one broken one. Joseph required the help of a few men to completely take the head out of the sand, so it was certainly heavy. He was fully intending to show this discovery to Mary, but the mudslide made it harder for him to do so. However, after quite a great deal of months, Mary was able to make quite a great deal of discoveries related to this skeletal head. Unearthed around 1811, this specimen was buried in the “Jurassic Coast,” which is the south coast of England, and was the first discovery ever made of a prehistoric creature, so it is believed that it should be brought to the Museum for display. If the museum does this, not only will they encourage palaeontologists to be more ambitious in their exploits, but they would also serve as an inspiration to all those smart, young children living in the world today, considering the current conditions of our country, which are indeed very war-stricken.

Of course, Joseph is not the only one who made a discovery, as Mary also made one herself, though it was after nearly a year had elapsed. Her discovery was, quite possibly, more influential to science, as it was that of an entire skeleton, about seventeen feet long. It started with vertebrae, approximately three inches wide, and she then uncovered ribs (some still connected to the vertebrae) buried underneath all the limestone. It, like with Joseph, took Mary the help of some men to uncover the rest of the skeleton, and they managed to uncover a backbone of sixty vertebrae. On one side, it looked like a fish with a very long tail, while on the other, its shape was harder to discern, considering that that the ribs were forced down upon the vertebrae. As soon as the skeleton was completely uncovered, word-of-mouth spread quickly through the town, and Mary was offered twenty-three pounds for this fossil, enough to feed the family for over six months. After the exhibition of the head discovered by Joseph, It is implored of the addressee that the skeleton discovered by Mary should be exhibited next, because it was influential in developing palaeontology beyond how it started. It was a discovery for its time, and is, equally so, a discovery for the current times.

As the addressee can gather, the undersigned feels strongly about the relics being brought to the Museum, and there are several reasons why; firstly, these exhibitions have had a big impact on science today, so it is to be believed as best, for the sake of the people of the city, to exhibit these in the city’s very own Natural History Museum. Secondly, look at all these children, some who have suffered from the war, and some who want to pursue big things in science. These exhibitions might allow them to learn things about palaeontology, and also serve as escapism from their current sufferings; it may set them on the path to making similar discoveries themselves. Lastly, we need to preserve these fossils from those far too willing to steal them, and those who have such hatred for science that they will destroy them. All of these reasons are strong enough for the undersigned to urge you to take these in quickly. Administer them into the Museum. Guard them. They represent palaeontology, all it ever was, and all it ever will be. The undersigned is a dying man, dear addressee, and is, along with that, also a palaeontologist, which is why there is such a strong concern present for these skeletal pieces being preserved. It is hoped that the enormity and brevity of the task is duly comprehended.

And, so, the undersigned ends this letter with a hope that you stay in good health, and a hope that you may oblige to the undersigned’s wishes.

Yours sincerely,

William Buckland

William Buckland

Write an online magazine/blog article about the life and dreams of an ordinary boy, Youssef, living in the slums of Hay An Najat, Casablanca. In your article, include the following: • how he survives from day-to-day • what he does every week (watches movies at the Star Cinema) • why he never misses a show Think carefully about the purpose of your article, and the audience for whom it is intended. By Jibraeil Aatif Anwar



Escapism via movies: possible or not?

The story of an ordinary boy, Youssef, who dreams of big things in his life.

Jibraeil Aatif Anwar

November 5, 2016


Who would’ve thought that even people, with the smallest of lives, had big dreams? Many people can relate to this, from Walt Disney to Steve Jobs. All of them were small in standing, yet their big dreams got them where they are today (or, in these two men’s cases, were). We are here to talk about such a situation, about the story of a little boy named Youssef, who didn’t exactly have it easy. He was poor, and doing his best to live his life in the slums of Hay An Najat, Casablanca, Morocco. And yet, Youssef was an escapist, who lived through movies, and dreamt of being the greatest actor (and football player) ever.  What exactly was his life like, though? Let’s find out….


You see, Youssef lived in his house with his mother, and he didn’t exactly have the best living conditions. The roof was made of corrugated tin, and had to be held down by rocks for it to stay put. His house was down a narrow dirt path, surrounded by many other houses in similar conditions. There was only one room, and it didn’t have any windows, either! The question still remains, though: could Youssef be able to survive these terrible living conditions? The answer is yes, and he did have some things to be grateful about. For one, his neighbourhood didn’t have to suffer from a great drought like the others had to. Second of all, he and his mother were able to handle the bad living conditions considerably well, utilizing methods to keep their house intact, trying their best to keep their things away from outside conditions, and keeping a good sense of optimism along the way. Thirdly, Youssef had… the movies. Movie is only one word, but it had a lot of meaning for Youssef. Movies were his passion, a way of escaping the hardships brought about by real life, but also his ambition (his lifelong dream was to be an actor). The adventure, the wonder, the action, the intrigue, the romance, the drama, the humour — without these seven things, a movie can never be enjoyable, let alone interesting. Yet, thanks to these seven things present in these delightful delicacies, Youssef successfully navigated the treacherous waters of that giant cesspool known as real life.


Youssef, along with being a poor boy, was also an ordinary boy. He did what every child usually does: go to school, play sports, have a dream, and do the best one can to survive. He ate, just like any good boy should, and he took care of his mother, like any good child should. Acting and football were his passions, and he fought very hard in order to get a prestigious career in acting, as well as gain the necessary physique (via football) in order to be considered qualified enough for his job. Youssef also preferred to live an independent life, and always felt bothered by his mother always treating him like an eight year-old, rather than the eighteen year-old he knew he was, and indeed was! But most importantly, however, he did something every week when he felt bored; he took a coin from his mother’s purse, went to the nearby Star Cinema, and watched a movie that played for the week, intending to watch whatever movie would come next week. This routine, this never-ending cycle of doom and gloom (of the best kind), brightened every area of Youssef’s body until you could see the sunlight radiating from him; he loved it that much. What did he watch, you may ask? Maybe a little Hong Kong action films? Perhaps a smidgen of Bollywood romances? How about Egyptian dramas? And is it possible for anyone to forget those world-famous, awe-inspiring American blockbusters? Whatever movie it was, Youssef watched them all — and he loved them. They were his life-blood, his driving force — the force that kept him alive, that lived in very cell of his body (much like the Force in Star Wars). It is especially because of this, that Youssef so passionately acted in the only play his school had, pursued acting with a passion, and played football to develop an actor’s physique. Isn’t it amazing how much movies can change people’s lives, when adults are always claiming that they’re bad for your health, and that they waste too much time? It does beg the question, though: why and how does Youssef benefit from these movies?


It’s pretty simple to articulate: Youssef is miserable. He’s lonely. He yearns for bigger things. What else is a little boy to do? What else is he to pursue? Should he go onto the streets and dance like a monkey for money? No, because times are tough for the lad. Should he read books like the smart kids do? No, because it’s clear that Youssef is not as obsessed with his studies as they are. Movies are his escapism, because they are boundless. They perfectly capture your imagination in the form of moving pictures, making you pleased until you faint of happiness… though, that certainly isn’t the case for Youssef, who is able to remain in one piece after observing these colourful escapades across the desert, sea and whatnot. When you’ve lost your father, your mother is trying her best to make a living for the both of you, and you are struggling to survive, it isn’t hard for you to latch onto the closest hobby you can find, and call it “escapism” from real life. Do you ever think to yourself and wonder, “Why does my life have so many restrictions?” If so, then the exact same case is presented here, where, above all else, Youssef adores the fantasy of the movies, how unreal all of it is; yet, so charming. They do sometimes portray worlds that have their own sufferings taking place in them, but they also portray a sense of resolve over these issues, a triumph of good over evil. Youssef relates to this, because he, too, wishes that his life were like these movies, that he could be the brave, dashing hero who fights the evil dragon (real life) to rescue the princess in the castle (freedom). And, so, he watches these movies, and he’s surely having the time of his life watching them, latching onto them like they’re his stuffed animals.


And, so, this is the story of a humble, ordinary boy by the name of Youssef, who lives with his mother in the slums of Hay An Najat, Casablanca, Morocco. He lives in the poorest of conditions, but that never deters him from being hopeful, and keeping an iron resolve. He lives life as he can, remains a good, obedient boy towards his mother, wants to pursue a career in acting (as well as footballing), and escapes real life via movies, whenever he’s feeling stressed out. Is this interesting to hear about? To pitch in the editors’ opinions, they would say yes, but we’ll leave your opinions to be decided by you. We’ll also leave you to wonder about what this story might teach you; is real life really as bad as it’s been presented? Is escapism the best way out? Would you feel persistence in surviving a life with such sparse conditions? The things people wonder… and this quote by Neil Gaiman might help you better decide your opinion:  “People talk about escapism as if it’s a bad thing… Once you’ve escaped, once you come back, the world is not the same as when you left it. You come back to it with skills, weapons, knowledge you didn’t have before. Then, you are better equipped to deal with your current reality”.




Try as we might to avoid them, accidents happen. Tell about a time when you were involved in an accident. By Jibraeil Aatif Anwar


School is an ordinary, boring place. Every day, you usually expect everything to go exactly as it always has, with nothing ever happening. However, somehow, today was quite odd, not very much deserving of its place in the cycle of boredom, as it was, indeed, very much a different kind.


Today was, in fact, the first time I was going to go visit the. How wonderful! I was a tad frightened by this wild habitat, so I went up to the teacher to ask him, “What’s the chemistry lab like?” “It’s dangerous, yet also quite exhilarating,” the teacher responded. “Thank the one that looks down from above!” I expressed in my thoughts. The door was dancing a little bit when we reached our destination, and, like a clown inviting an audience-member up to the stage, the door creaked open to reveal the wilderness it hid. I was experiencing a blend of emotions during this roller-coaster of an incredible experience.


And, so, it was time to do our practical work there, so we marched right in. The teacher taught us about a variety of concepts, no doubt, but the best one was most definitely regarding the chemical reactions. Whether it was the discussions we had, the things we learnt, or the experiments we carried out, this part of our studies was brilliant. Sadly, the fun and games surely had to end, when, all of a sudden, a student burst in. The student had curly, ginger hair, with a bit of a plump body, and had glasses to his name; or, in this case, face.


This student was from a higher class, which we knew as soon as he entered. He asked the teacher, “Sir, can I borrow your time and tell you something?” “Not now,” the teacher answered. But the student was persistent, so he walked up to the teacher… that is, until he slipped, and knocked over the chemicals. The chemicals ended up spilling over the students, who were in horrible pain as a result. Some were safe, though; and yet, either way, the teacher took immense preventive action to help the injured ones out.


The end result was that many students were taken to the school-nurse. I was confused, so I needed time to process all of this. At least, however, the student learnt to have patience… and better footing, for that matter. This day was like a jungle-expedition from start to finish, wholly undeserving of its place in the cycle of boredom, in which boredom of all kinds ever thrives.