Friday, September 28, 2012

SPM CONTINUOUS WRITING SAMPLE

FOR EDUCATIONAL PURPOSE ONLY. MAY MANY WILL BENEFIT.
NOT FOR COMMERCIAL USE.

*If you have read the essay posted in the last two postings, this one has the same title "TOMORROW" but was dealt in a totally different way.
** Please do not try to memorize any essay for examination. it doesn't work that way.


T O M O R R O W
by: writer unknown

Strolling down the paved pathway, with my fingers tightly clasped around my little sister's wrist. I breathed in the fresh air and allowed the soothing wind to determine my route. The serene park was quiet as the sun was just rising, its ray of light peeping through the clouds. I saw something in a distant shade of velvet red. Just one rose amidst the bushes. The rose somehow beamed unlike any other I had ever seen. It had not fully bloomed. There was an odd vulnerability to that rose. Pacing back home, my sister softly muttered the lines of a famous song. She sang, "The future's not for ours to see," and her voice trailed off as we entered the house.


That red rose sat on my dining table in a fragile, transparent vase. I could not help myself. It just had to come home with me. Day after day, my eyes were preoccupied wandering along the petals of the rose and and down its stalk. The first couple of days the rose fully bloomed. It looked brave and oozed confidence. That day, I received some thrilling news. My aunt had given birth to a healthy baby boy. The joy of the addition of another child filled the air. Toasts were made among the relatives and excited laughter drowned the baby's cry. Our life is sugar coated with many joyous memories. I pondered to myself what tomorrow had to offer.


Clumsily making my way down the stairs, I propped myself on a chair. Squinting due to deprived sleep, I observed my rose. At that very second, looking was just not enough. I caressed my fingers down the stalk. Thorns with such menace pricked my fingers and it certainly did hurt. I was however disturbed from analytically assessing my fingers by a phone call. my mother's wavering tone alarmed me slightly. My grandfather had been rushed to the hospital after suffering a severe fall. I could sense a certain level of panic in my mother's voice as she tried to be as calm as possible telling me she would be home late. Life does have its surprises. Some of them one never wishes for. However, life obeying the concept of balance will present us with hardship and turmoil. Sadness, despair and anger are feelings which we cannot hide from. I prayed that day that tomorrow would be a better one.


The rose, the following day, no longer stood confidently. It wilted to one side. The flower in my palm felt limp and weak. It no longer had the visual appeal it did several days back. My grandfather's condition, according to the doctors was not improving. The frail man lay lifelessly on that inclined bed with tubes and breathing aids all over his body. I could tell my mother and her other siblings were losing hope. They were far too distraught to bother to hide their visible emotions. Just like the rose they were emotionally weak. Seconds clocked away slowly as I wanted that day to end and step into tomorrow.


Black pigment on the petals of the rose gave it a lacklustre appeal. It was not presentable to put a dead rose right in the centre of my dining table. Finally, the time had come for me to dispose of that very flower. As a family, we performed prayers and rituals for my grandfather who had passed away. Death had to come and it awaits all of us. Similar to disposing of the rose, we had to let my grandfather go. Who are we to dictate the cycle of life? No one. My family and I merely accepted his fate. That day was gloomy and silence was not once broken. I clasped on to the very same hope that tomorrow would be a better day.



Life hands up the golden opportunity of seeing uncountable tomorrows. As a being in this world, the only armour we are given to survive the downfalls and conflicts is our hearts. When our hearts stop hoping, our minds stop believing, and we stop living. My sister sang the perfect tune: "The future is not for ours to see". Our path in life lies before us but until we see the daylight of tomorrow, we live in the dark. Tomorrow might bring joy. Tomorrow may hand us grief. I have begun to understand that time is the essence of our journey through life. Therefore, tomorrow is the door to the future.