One day my father got me in a governmental School there by I felt big change on my Windows!
A short, noisy was shouting “pull out your Persian text book ….” I was confused with different numbers, additions, subtraction, and division, multiplication, sciences particle subjects. I was surprised. By time I was mumbling some Persian text wrong correctly, wrong correctly with dismal fluency. But for mathematic, it is still some how the most complicated and tired one. Most of the time my classmates were teaching me in four basic operation of math which gets me like them still now as my childhood teachers. They were appreciating enough likewise my father leading me to blessing disaster and adventures. The time was passing where by I was getting me outsides of lazy students. I had earned good marks in fourth class which was followed negatively in successor year. Now I was thinking that father’s old enough math literacy can not quench my complicated questions; he was not known on proportion passage … etc.
Our instructors were not fair with their insulting and hitting us by sticks . the Examination was passed under a nightmare . Not being depressed I was stood up on my stands. I was not a smart one: adversity, milling in muddy streets, poverty, epitaphic views of people to us, weaknesses of family controlling and responding our wishes were mixed in hazy and frozen waves of our child hood. Now I have nothing left behind left unless my gloomy imagination from my petit and dried up hands in thin hands of my mother during my sixth year in school.
I was herding most of my free times goats which was too boring, though getting me to think can I be free to play foot ball and so on ?
Baqir：
I was depressed and most of the time my daily nip along with pavement and yards were coinciding with question “it is right that rich people do not herd?” “When do they herd theirs?”, “why they just make fun?” Most of the time I had some short nip giving goats golden chance marching towards forms resulting arising eyebrows of farmers. Now in my 23 spring I send my abominations towards those trying not to feeling my childish world and was slapping my by time .
A short, noisy was shouting “pull out your Persian text book ….” I was confused with different numbers, additions, subtraction, and division, multiplication, sciences particle subjects. I was surprised. By time I was mumbling some Persian text wrong correctly, wrong correctly with dismal fluency. But for mathematic, it is still some how the most complicated and tired one. Most of the time my classmates were teaching me in four basic operation of math which gets me like them still now as my childhood teachers. They were appreciating enough likewise my father leading me to blessing disaster and adventures. The time was passing where by I was getting me outsides of lazy students. I had earned good marks in fourth class which was followed negatively in successor year. Now I was thinking that father’s old enough math literacy can not quench my complicated questions; he was not known on proportion passage … etc.
Our instructors were not fair with their insulting and hitting us by sticks . the Examination was passed under a nightmare . Not being depressed I was stood up on my stands. I was not a smart one: adversity, milling in muddy streets, poverty, epitaphic views of people to us, weaknesses of family controlling and responding our wishes were mixed in hazy and frozen waves of our child hood. Now I have nothing left behind left unless my gloomy imagination from my petit and dried up hands in thin hands of my mother during my sixth year in school.
I was herding most of my free times goats which was too boring, though getting me to think can I be free to play foot ball and so on ?
Baqir：
I was depressed and most of the time my daily nip along with pavement and yards were coinciding with question “it is right that rich people do not herd?” “When do they herd theirs?”, “why they just make fun?” Most of the time I had some short nip giving goats golden chance marching towards forms resulting arising eyebrows of farmers. Now in my 23 spring I send my abominations towards those trying not to feeling my childish world and was slapping my by time .
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