BarirahWork

Straw That Stood   This month, I attended the Pakistan Science Club Summer Camp 5.0 in Islamabad. It was my fourth time participating in their Islamabad Summer Camps, and as always, it was a fantastic experience. Every year, the team travels from Karachi to host these incredible camps at AIOU, and I never miss the chance to join. The camp was divided into two groups: Juniors and Seniors. I was in the Seniors and my brothers in junior. Each year brings something new, and this time was no different. On the first day, we built a sensor robot, learning about wiring, chips, and sensors along the way. It was a great hands-on introduction to electronics. The camp ran for five days, with a new project each day. My favorite was the third day's team challenge: building a straw tower that was both weight-resistant and earthquake-resistant. The process was incredibly fun...brainstorming ideas with my teammates and working together to bring our design to life. I suggested making the tower hexa...

  An Awesome Year of Learning Being a twelve-year-old homeschooler means my "new school year" doesn't start with a summer break... I just study all year round whenever I feel like it. First, I gather all my favorite supplies: colorful notebooks for my writing, smooth pens for my poetry, and my computer for all our online learning. The best part? I can study literally anywhere ... sometimes at my desk, sometimes on the floor, sometimes curled up on my bed, and on nice days, I take my books up to the rooftop or out into the garden. I also organize our PC with bookmarks for YouTube videos, Khan Academy, Duolingo, and our Blogger page where i share my creative work mostly. This year, I really want to improve my cooking and baking, write better poetry, improve my coding and programing, and get stronger at Urdu and English composition. I'm super excited about languages, arts, and learning new skills, but honestly? Maths is just not my favorite...I find it pretty boring an...

  A Breeze, a Groove, and a Prickly Surprise I will never forget the sweet, fresh scent of citrus from the day I visited an orange grove at seven years old. My family and I went to an orchard in Khanpur, where I ran through the soft, damp grass. A cool breeze sent a shiver down my spine...I’d even forgotten my knit cap at home. But such a small mistake couldn’t get in the way of a good time. We picked hundreds of oranges, each one juicy with a perfect balance of sweet and sour. The funniest moment came when my five-year-old brother suddenly screamed and announced that a plant had bitten him. At first, we were confused, but when he pointed to the plant, we saw it had spiky leaves. We all burst out laughing and explained that the plant had pricked him, not bitten him...plants can’t bite! Looking back, that day at the orchard remains one of my fondest memories. It taught me that nature is full of surprises, and we still laugh about my brother’s “biting” plant during family dinners. T...

  The Library of Worlds The morning light sweeps in through the window. How did I forget to close the curtains? I groan, swinging my legs off the bed. I really should have shut the blinds. Peeking outside, I note it's a "soft, cloudy Saturday morning"....still, far too early. I pull the blinds closed and turn around. My room is painted in sage green. Two towering bookshelves flank a study table, with a wardrobe, a bed, and a desk completing the space. There's plenty of room to move..which is good, since I have a habit of pacing while I think. I sigh and make my way back toward the bed, passing the door that stands alone in the middle of the room. No walls, no frame....just a door, suspended in the open. As I walk past it, I catch it from the side: the rich chocolate-brown wood, the subtle grain running across its surface. On the front, intricate carvings twist together...roses entwined with licking flames, petals and fire curling into one another. And then, just as c...

  The Bridge you Build T he Bridge You Build is a motivational poem that speaks to life’s unpredictability and hardships. It highlights the constant choice between effort and the temptation of an easy way out. True progress, the poet suggests, is born from determination, hope, and hard work, qualities that help us span the gaps left by pain. The poem closes on an empowering note, urging the reader to build their future with courage. With every step forward, they reaffirm their own strength and capability.

A Perfect Try When I first saw the reference image of the cup, I thought, "There's no way I can do this." The curve of the handle, the shadow under the Saucer , it all looked impossibly hard. But I had an assignment to sketch this cup. I was given an image to copy, and now that I'm finished, looking at my sketch, I'm glad I proved myself wrong. It is quite close to the original. I think I did pretty well. I'm happy with how it turned out. This sketch took me four days to finish. It required a lot of patience, especially with the details and shading. Many times, I almost gave up, but then I encouraged myself by remembering that good art takes time. One moment, while drawing the saucer, I actually cried. The saucer was the hardest part. I had been drawing for what felt like hours, and it still wouldn't come out right. I couldn't stop the tears. So I just left it and came back the next day. I won't say this is a perfect sketch. But it is a perfect tr...

  Sketching I sketched after a long time, I can't believe it turned out so good.🫣

Mean Personalities in Literature  For my Skill Club Pakistan assignment, we had to write sentences using vocabulary words for different "mean" personality traits. I decided to use characters from books I’ve read....except for the last sentence. That one I made up myself. Here’s what I wrote: Condescending – Sherlock Holmes is highly intelligent. He can solve mysteries quickly and think of great plans to catch criminals. But he also talks down to people of average intelligence. He is impatient with anyone not as clever as him. This makes Holmes a condescending man. Untrustworthy – Saruman is an untrustworthy person. He betrayed the people of Middle-earth. But Sauron knew of Saruman’s untrustworthy nature, so he didn’t let him steal the Ring...because he knew Saruman planned to keep it for himself. Self-centered – Petunia Dursley wanted to be as normal as possible, just like her neighbors. She is very jealous and self-absorbed. She is a great example of a self-centered pe...

 The Other Side Of The Pen Pen in my hand, paper in the other Sun in the sky, chill in the weather Even if the words burn the pages, The prisoners in my head are still in cages. In my head there are wires you'll never see, And words that hang from lines and bloom on a tree. The pen dazzles in the sunlight, While the words and I have a fight. Did you think it's this simple to write, poetry, when the words are always too bright. Next time when you want me to write poetry, At least wait and let me do it properly. By Barirah❣ This Poetry is dedicated to my parents

📓  Finding Myself in Old Notebooks I was going through my old notebooks the other day and found many of my old writings. It felt so good to read them—they unlocked so many old memories! I laughed at the silly things I wrote about and noticed how my writing skills weren’t as good back then. I also saw how my writing changed—from handwriting to writing style, and how my grammar, spelling, and vocabulary have improved. Reading my old stuff made me so happy. It felt like looking at my old self through those pages. I realised that writing has always been something I liked to do, even if back then I said I hated it (lol). Now it’s one of my hobbies. I was 8 or 9 then, and now I’m almost 12—and I haven’t stopped writing yet, and won’t in the future either. Like I always say:  I can write better than I can speak. I can write my thoughts better than I can say them aloud. Anyway, I’ve decided to post some of my old stuff. 💖 Barirah❣

 Half cup of tea On a table nearby: Sat a half cup of tea, Photography by me and mom With streaming grey clouds, It winked at me. Flowers n butterflies were painted on it, But i think the flowers were real, With butterflies roaming just near, It could be the entrance to the garden of tea. The flowers were dancing to n fro, The butterflies were flying,oh!so low, And how i wished i was there, But the cup just sat and winked at me. By Barirah

  The Chickies This poem is about something that happened last month: Spider plant in a hanging pot, There's a nest in the leaves The Chickies are there, The Doves, eat seeds a lot. One egg there, one day, One more, the other day "When will they hatch," Anxious we were in a way. Oh!Hurray , Hurray Fluffy, Fluffy, Grey, Grey, The babies of the dove, Tiny,Tiny, Grey, Grey Getting bigger everyday, Eating seeds, with the beaks Silky and Hidey, we call them One day, they fly away. Day 4 or 5 after they hatched Can you spot the eggs!! They are getting bigger everyday!! We can see them from the window!! Front one is Hidey back one is Silky Hidey is older than Silky The very first day of there Flight!! The nest is now empty!! We miss Hidey and Silky dearly. They do come to visit us(with their parents) we see the family at our backyard, for we throw seeds there for the birds. But still I miss them on that specific plant, if you know what i mean.I used to watch them from the window...

Three Figures In front of me are three figures: one big, one small, and one smaller. The biggest one has a laptop on his lap. He’s moving his fingers quickly, playing some fighting game that is beyond my understanding—though all three of them seem to understand it perfectly. The two small figures sit watching as the big figure plays. They are talking with each other, mainly about the game, exclaiming and shouting with joy as he advances. (It hurts my head.) Now the big figure has passed the laptop to the larger of the two small figures. Now he’s moving his fingers quickly, now he’s playing the game. The big figure and the smallest figure sit watching and talking. None of them seems to notice that I sit here, watching them closely, observing all their details. Well!! These figures are my younger brothers and my uncle. Aren’t they strange?? By Barirah❣

 Miss You Barny Don't  know What  am I Talking About , Check My Previous Post:  https://barirahwork.blogspot.com/2025/03/a-dream-come-true.html

  Fred and George's discovery  I promised that I will share the story I wrote, here it is: They tucked the the parchment into their robes pocket, both Fred and George  went back to their common room. It was deserted. Both sat on the armchairs. Fred reached for his pocket and pulled out the parchment. They both stared at it and then looked at each other. Fred unfolded the parchment, but it was blank. "I don't even know why we took this parchment." sighed George, as he glanced at it. "Well! I had a funny feeling which made me grab it." whispered Fred. "And maybe it's written in invisible ink." with this he pulled out his wand. "Show." He muttered some spells or whatever came into his mind, but nothing happened. "Let me try." said George eagerly. Fred handed him the parchment. "Lumos." whispered George, hoping that letters appeared when light hit them, but nothing happened. after a lot of trying he almost gave up when...