Creative Writing: My Dream World

818 Words Feb 19th, 2018 3 Pages
As I run, my feet kiss the soil and the wind caresses my skin and hair. My body is a raging fire; my lungs are suffocating and my muscles feel as though they are melting, like ice cream on a sunny day. However, with each step I progress towards the river. The pain is forgotten and like a machine, I steadily place one foot in front of the other – thump, thump, thump. I am a bird: free, independent and powerful. Finally I reach the endless expanse of water, tinged with hues of blue, pink and orange – a mirror for the effervescent sky.
My mother used to tell me that learning was like running. It is a journey towards the beautiful, ever-changing sea of knowledge. At times it is wearisome but in the long run, you progress: intellectually, morally, and physically.
“Each drop of knowledge you obtain is more valuable than gemstones,” she told me as we were preparing Kabuli pulao for my youngest brother’s first day at school.
Education is the key that freed my mother from the cage of child marriage, and allowed her to free others too. She was a teacher of Rokhshana Girls School in our hometown, Kabul. Teaching was her passion; even at home, she would chirp about literature and mathematics.
Often, she complained about families forcing their daughters to leave school. Sometimes she would drown in a pool of depression, knowing that opportunities were being slashed, lifetimes were halved, and the very act of living was to…
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