naziaenglish

 In English, we were given a task to write an imaginative story about either a futuristic house (a house you would find in the future), an I deal house (your dream house, a house you would desire to live in) or a previous house you have already lived in. I decided to write my story on a house I have lived in the past, which is set in the country I come from, Bangladesh. I believe we wrote a story about a house because we had to find a house for our clients within the city of Maribyrnong. ** My mum and I were sitting stiffly, scared as hell on the back seat of my dads red Honda jeep while my dad was at the front with his driver in front of the steering wheel as calmly as ever. I had just got out of the very busy and crowded Dhaka airport after being in the custom securities line which goes on forever. When I had gotten out of the air conditioned airport, hot and humid wind blew at my face. Welcome to Bangladesh, I had thought to myself. As soon as the car started moving I wished it hadn’t. The driver was driving so fast! Dodging all the cars and people on the roads, ignoring all the red lights. I closed my eyes praying that the next time I open them hopefully we haven’t crashed into something or someone. I couldn’t believe that a few years back when I lived in Bangladesh, I use to find this kind of driving normal. **    introduction s.o.s.e maths science bibliography conclusion Type in the content of your page here.
 * __//Memory house story by: Nazia Anjum 8 D//__**
 * When we finally stopped in a small narrow road, packed with people, in front of a 6 storey building, a sense of relief flooded through me. I stepped out of the car and smiled up at the tall building. It’s been three years since I last stood in that exact same spot but yet nothing had changed at all, just as I remember it. Still the same old building with the same old caretaker of the building welcoming us back and taking our luggage up to the top storey where our apartment is. Still the same old surroundings with mini food stalls that are always there and people walking past and rarely does a car come driving by. While the driver parked the car in the bottom floor where the caretaker of the building and all the other cars live, my parents and I stepped into the elevator and pressed the top button. **
 * I looked at the mirror inside the elevator and saw that I had a huge grin on my face without even realizing. When we got to our floor and I stepped out of the elevator I saw there were two large vases flowing with beautiful different colored flowers on either side of the elevator door. It must have been put there recently because I don’t remember it being there before but I like it. In front of the elevator, there is a flight of stairs that leads you to the lower floors and on the right side is a flight of stairs that leads to the terrace. In this building there are two apartments on each floor and on the top floor one of the apartments belong to us and the other one belongs to my dad’s sister and my two tall older boy cousins. I turned around to face the big wooden door which leads to our apartment. I always loved that door; it was the coolest door I had ever seen. On the door is a face of a lion with a door banger hanging by its ears and one of the lion’s eyes is the eye hole. Next to the lion are words engraved on the door which reads, **
 * “My house is small, no mansion for a millionaire. **
 * But there is room for love. **
 * And there is room for family and friends and that’s all I care.” **
 * This house isn’t small at all, I thought to myself, and especially if you compare it with any of the houses I lived in Australia-it is a mansion, well at least to me it’ll always be. **
 * As I walked through the large wooden door, so many childhood memories flashed back in my head. To my left was the lounge room which is mainly covered by pretty, comfy couches with a coffee table in the center of the room that has a small flower vase on it and a large window that covers one whole wall. My cousin and I use to play a lot in this room, sometimes we use to act like sophisticated ladies and have tea. We use to be such weirdo’s, I thought laughing quietly to myself. My room is probably my favorite room in the house. For one it’s huge, it has it’s own enormous bathroom with a toilet and a giant bathtub attached, two walls are completely covered with a large window by which I can see nearly the whole city but it has dark curtains so I didn’t get scared at night and best of all it has a really comfy king size bed. As I looked at the room I thought how spoiled I am in Bangladesh, I don’t even have to make my own bed, the maids do it for me (in Bangladesh it is normal to have maids working in your house even if your middle class) but in Australia it’s completely opposite but sometimes its good to be independent. I walked inside the bathroom and instantly noticed the small crack on the mirror which brought a huge smile back to my face. I remember exactly how that happened. My cousin Azra (who is only a year older than me) and I were mucking around and I threw a lotion bottle at her because she threw water on me but it missed and hit the mirror instead. We were both so scared of getting into trouble but to our relief no-one noticed. Then I was also reminded of the times when, before Azra and I went to take a bath, we would secretly put on my big sisters make up and have a fashion parade. **
 * I walked over to the window in my room and looked down at the street, and then more happy memories flooded to my mind. Like the time when me and Azra snuck eggs to the terrace and threw it down at people but when people in our house started asking where the eggs were disappearing, we started throwing small rocks. Whenever we couldn’t find rocks we threw bottle caps and once I just randomly threw it down but it bounced and hit a man in his private part while he was walking past. Azra and I couldn’t stop laughing especially because the guy kept brainlessly looking around to see who threw it. But our fun days were soon over when the caretaker of our building caught us in the act and told my dad. But we’ll always remember they’re angry yells whenever an egg or a rock or a bottle cap hit them and they had no clue who threw it. Whenever it use to rain, we use to go up to the terrace and start dancing. Good times we had on the terrace. Sometimes I wish I still lived in that house, then there wouldn’t be not a single boring day in my life, I would always be surrounded by all the people I love. But no matter where I am or where I live, I will always love and remember that house.  **