Rashmi+Dogra

Rashmi Dogra 1/19/12 Period 2 and 3

__ My First Birthday __ Colorful and bright, my eyes grew huge when I stared at the bold,metallic, huge letters standing at the wall saying, “ Happy Birthday Rashmi. ” Sitting on the chair, right across me was the big vanilla cake white as the bright white walls where the letters were hung. “ Come on everybody! Time for the cake! ” my mom told. “ THUD! THUD! THUD! ” the guests were so big like they were big foot or a huge monster stompingover the city of New Jersey. Fiery and flaming hot, the candles glowed on the cake as if it were the sun shining the city. First we all got together at the table. Then we took photos together. Next, we sang the song, “ Happy Birthday. ” After that, I blew the striped candles on the cake that was on the center of the table like it was the center of the earth. This is my first birthday. I didn’t even knew what to do exactly at the party, so my parents helped me. Enjoying this party, I learned how to act and behave in a party. Knowing this, I also learned how to cut a cake. This was my first birthday and birthday party ever! For my parents, it was their first child’s birthday and birthday party. When the spoon of vanilla frosted ice-cream cake went to my mouth, my taste buds arose. I began to say, “ Yum! Yum! Yum! ” The cake was as scrumptious and delicious as the cheesy, cheese pizza I had eaten before. The cake was so cold compared to the hot, burning pizza from Pizza Hut. It was like a sprinkle of an A+ taste. Weird, strange, different people were in my house, knowing me and my parents, but me not knowing them. Strange. Some I’ve seen and heard of, knowing me, and me knowing them. Gifts hiding under the table, wonder and thoughts about them, waiting impatiently to open them. Finally, I get to open them once and for all! One by one, ripping the wrappers into shreds of pieces like breaking glass into tiny crystals of glass, the whole mess began to look like the garbage dump outside. Barbie dolls, stuffed animals, baby toys, and other children items were wrapped inside. “Oooooooo! ” I got amazed. There I saw, a bright pink box with a toy inside. I looked at the wording on the box, but I didn’t quiet understand. My head spun around, “ What does this word mean on the box? What kind of toy is this? Is it the best toy ever in the history of toys? ” I wondered, “ Ummmmmmm......... ” Then I saw, a image that I seen before. Now I new what this toy was! My favorite toy of all time!

__ My Brother was Born __ The smell of JFK hospital was not like home, definitely not like home. Walking, talking, waiting, listening, and wondering. All that makes JFK hospital. “ What is this place?! ” I wondered. I been to a lot of places but this one, I can’t quiet my finger on it. This places is like a maze of wonder and thoughts. Sitting on my seat, my dad, my aunt, grandpa, and grandma were there. Everything was filled in, but one was blank. My mom, Narinder Kaur Dogra. My mind rang a bell, “ Where is she?! ” I began to worry, so I tapped on my father’s leg. My dad always came for help, so I always tap on him. “ It’s okay. Don’t worry. Just wait. ” my father responded to me. My family were waiting patiently unlike me who doesn’t. First, I got thirsty, so my dad gave me cold milk from my baby bag. It was refreshing as drinking water after a hot day. It was as cold as the vanilla, scrumptious, ice-cream cake I had at my first birthday party. Next, I played with my tiny, furry stuffed animals that I had with me in my baby bag. After that, I watched the people waiting, the nurses going back and forth to rooms, and the clock ticking, annoyingly. “ Creeeeeek. ” the door opened. Finally something extraordinary happened. A doctor had came out of the room. I jumped out of the seat, left my baby bag, and got ready to enter the room. But then I realized, it wasn’t our turn, yet. It was another family. Clueless, I began to look around for my mother. Worried with tears sliding on my cheek, my brain was confused, “ Where is my mother? What if shes in one of the rooms? Why is she gone? ” “ Creeeeeek. ” the door opened. The doctor kindly walked toward us. “ Please enter. ” the man kindly asked. Heading off to the room, my dad opened the door first. My mom was laying down on the bed with a cute, little baby boy wrapped around in a blue, soft blanket cuddled in my mother’s arms. When I touched his body, his hands were as soft as a koala bear’s fur. He had shining eyes, soft hands, smooth skin, and tiny, bare feet. This was the first baby boy in my family of my mom, dad, and me. Now, I’m an older sister. I also have a sibling. Now that'swhatI call good news! Waiting here for such a long time, I realized that even though I had to sit and do nothing the whole time, I should be patient because the waiting might be worth it. Finally, my dad took his silvery, expensive,shiny camera, and took the picture of the new born baby.

==== Dazzling and beautiful, the lights and decorations glimmered insidethe palace were wearing beautiful, glamorous sparkles with lots of heavy,gold jewelery. Rainbows everywhere, the colors amazed and shined my eyes. All the colors were there, white, red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple, indigo. Even black, gray, and brown. And other colors, too. It is like I’m in a kingdom. Blindly, the lights shined across my face leaving my eyes water up. I never been to a palace, before. “ Baljeet! I am so happy that I came to your wedding? What am I doing here in the first place? What’s going on? Why am I asking questions to myself? ” Anyways, now I know this is the first time going to a wedding and going with my brother to a special event. I’m only 1 ½ years while my brother is only 4 months old. Next to my uncle, Baljeet, there was a beautifully dressed woman standing right beside him. She wore a bright red dress with beautiful, expensive,gold jewelery. Now I knew what was going on. When I entered the palace, it said, “ Baljeet and Mulkeet’s Wedding. ” I start to wonder, “ Is this Mulkeet my new aunt? Is Baljeet and Muljeet getting married? Is Mulkeet going to be Baljeet’s wife? Is Baljeet going to be Mulkeet’s husband? ” Anyways, this was the first time I ever went to India. This was such a big event that I really had to go to India for the first time with my family. In the party, first I got to drink my milk which was in my baby bag and watch my parents eat food from their plates. The smell of the food was delightful. It made me want to steal my mother’s and eat the whole food all up. But of course, that would have been mean and weird. Next I saw dances of people dancing to the music on stage. It was like I was in a festival or in a parade. The music was making my brain pop out. I wanted to pull my ears and throw them away. After all that boom boom boom, I watched my parents going blah blah blah while my other family members going ha ha ha. “ Everybody! Listen up! ” the speak insisted. Everybody was silent. No talking. No laughter. No words. No sounds. Everything was still. The speaker announced, “ The time has begun. ” “ What time has begun? ” Coming to this event, I learned that I didn’t waste my time coming here and it was one of the best things I’ve ever seen. ====

__First Day of Kindergarden__ “ Blah, blah, blah! ” the kids blabbed. “ Ha, ha, ha! ” the kids laughed. “ Stomp, stomp, stomp! ” the kids thumped. “ Ugh, ugh, ugh! ” the kids argued. On a sunny, bright, gorgeous morning, there was the yellow, small school bus. The sun blinded my eyes. It was so bright that I couldn’t even see where I was going. Nobody would not be nervous on this day. Everyone would be terrified. Key word-WOULD. It was the first day of Kindergarden. Yes, it the the first day of Elementary School. “Boom! ” the letters of Washington Elementary School stood out. Its letters were gold, rich, and shiny. It was so shiny that I could even see my reflection. There, I remembered my five tips fr starting elementary school. 1-Make friends. 2-Listen to elders. 3-Give it all the best. 4-Work hard. 5-Don’t be shy or nervous. K-4 was my section. Miss Lia Felicetta was my teacher. Miss Lia Felicetta’s shirt was as blue as the deep blue sea. Happily, I entered the classroom quietly. She was talking so much that her breath never ran out of air like never running running out air in a bike’s wheel or a balloon. It’s like a nonstop machine. “ Tick, tock, tick, tock. ” the time went by. Finally, the teacher announced it was recess. Running, I ran out to the playground. Near by me, was a tan, brown eyed, black haired girl. Remembering, I thought about the my #1 tip. To make friends. Speechless, I honestly really didn’t know what to say. Thoughts came out of nowhere, “ How am I start off with a good conversation? What if I say something wrong? What if she says something mean to mean or refuses to be friends with me? What if it starts to start off with a bad conversation? “ Aren’t you in my class? ” I blabbed out. “ Yeah, what’s your name? Does it start with an R? ” she questioned. “ Yeah, its Rashmi. ” I stated. “ Well, my name is Vanshika. ” Vanshika introduced. “ Time fr lunch! ” the lunch aid called out. So everybody ran inside. “ Want to sit together? ” Vanshika questioned. “ Sure, and thanks. ” I responded. “ Wow! ” I cheered in my mind. One tip that I did pass. One thing that I did learned today was that don’t be shy or nervous to talk to someone or else how are you able to communicate with people. How are you supposed to make friends when you can’t even talk to someone? Communicating is a very important thing to do. Communication is necessary for your life.

--Rashmi Dogra

Author’s Note: From all the way when I was one years old to now, I still remember the experiences and shall never regret them. From a thrilling, happy girl to a busy, quite one, I still feel those feelings and emotions I had in the past. It’s still in my heart and brain. Still yet, I haven’t forgotten about those embarrassing, happy, and funny moments. Throughout my first birthday til the moment of my mother’s first son and first brother of mine til my uncle’s wedding, I’ve challenged and learned throughout my life. I had moments of embarrassment, silliness, stupidity, happiness, sadness, jealousy, and others too that I haven’t mentioned. But most of all, these parts of life make a whole part of me!

=__**PSA**__ = Don’t people get abashed when they abuse a child? Well, they should. Imagine this, a child reaching for help while the abuser hitting and ruining the child’s life. In this crisis, children are discomfort by this while the enemy grins. More than eighty percent of abusers are a parent of someone. Mind if I tell you where is this happening? Well,okay. In North America. South America. Asia. Africa. Antarctica. Europe.Not only in North America. Not only South America or not only other continents but everywhere. To prevent this situation, I recommend parents or guardians to take care of children properly by feeding them, teaching them, and having fun with them. Note, parents and guardians are involved in abusing and children are affected by abusing. John A. Shedd once said, “ Simply having children does not make mothers. ” Shedd tells us that if mothers actually work hard to take care their children, makes them a true mother but torturing them doesn’t prove that they are innocent. “ Mom. Dad. Can I go play outside? ” the little girl asked her parents. “ NO! You cannot! ” both parents yelled. “ But why? ” asked the little girl. “ You are a child! No questions! You do whatever I say! ” the mother yelled so loudly to her child that the whole neighborhood could hear. “ But it ” the little girl got interrupted. “ No butts, girl! ” the father interrupted his daughter. From this argument of the little girl and her parents, it’s important because if a child doesn’t get or taken care of, it’s wrong and people should care because not fair to those children getting abused. What is interesting about the this topic is that eighty-four percent of prison inmates were abused as children. It’s little more than four-fifths of the prisoners. You want more math about child abuse? Sorry there’s only one fact of math left. So here’s one math fact. One in three girls and one in five boys are abused by an adult. What’s interesting about the number, four is that families with four or more children have higher rates of abuse. Also, there are four signs of child abuse which are emotional,neglect, physical, and sexual. Since you know some things about child abuse, here are some questions. Are you ever going to abuse a child or ever think about doing it? When you become a parent or have another child or so, are you going to yell and argue with them for no apparent reason just to make them not have their fun? If so, is that nice or funny? I think not. Parents who abuse their child, should start acting right. If you know a child is getting abused, talk to their parents or call the police or tell anybody about it. You know facts, math, who’s involved and affected, where it’s happening, how to prevent the situation, and how to improve the problem, so it’s your time to make the decision. What are you going to do next?