Love

Love There was an Urdu paper in Government Primary School today. His duty was on a fifth grader. Unusually, there was less than one child in today's paper. The first chair in the first row attached to the wall was empty. It was Owais's chair. Owais was not absent today but had taken leave. Not from school !! From the world !! Eternal holiday !! He had fallen to his death the day before while playing in his street. Unfortunately, the children of his community had a tradition of growing up and being martyred by the opposition political party. The children were busy solving the paper with full enthusiasm. The duration of the paper was one hour and now the last ten minutes were running. As he walked, he began to examine the children's answers. Almost all the children were dealing with the last question. The question was !! What will you become when you grow up ?? He did not expect any creative essays from the fifth graders, but as time went on, he began to look into their answer sheets. Dr. Brahman was sitting on the four chairs in the third row. Then a pilot and so on until the middle of the first row between the doctor, pilot and engineer !! Owais's friend Abdullah was sitting behind the first empty chair in the first row! Abdullah and Owais also sat together during class. Seeing Abdullah's reply to the answer sheet, it seemed as if the cement skulls hanging from the roof were suddenly flashing like missiles over the head of a shiny bin. Abdullah's leaflet was lying on the edge of the chair and his swollen eyes were fixed on his lap. Abdullah's answer was also short !! It's hard to grow up !! But if done, I will become a craftsman !! Gutter Cover Maker !! Will make lots of lids !! many .......