SEC-3 CAMP IN KOTA TINGGI

Day-1

THE BEGINNING

I left home for school at ten minutes to seven thirty.I was not really excited but was anxious though.I have been to a lot of camps and gained experiences of absolutely nothing but pure knowledge on how do you pass your time while craping with your friends.However, those camps were fun,really fun. Why am i writing this is oviously this camp must had been a good one.A special one.I reached just in time for the assembly. All kinds of enthuasiastic students filled the hall as they anticipated their departure for malaysia.After half an hour, we boarded the bus that took us to the malaysian immigration.There was a total of 360 students supported by not less than 20 teachers were participating in the camp. It was the perfect time for this big event and i m sure most of us more or less liked it.

On the eve of the camp, i took out my favourite camping bag which was presented to me by someone as a birthday gift few years back. I packed it with all the neccessities you require for the camp except toothbrush,which is as you all know very important, and batteries,which became really important in the camp.

There was not much fuss in the immigration about my bangladeshi passport.Yet, the amusement in the faces of the malaysian immigration officers was apparent but apart from that they were very welcoming.They were sevicing with a smile.

A COUNTRY OF NOSTALGIA

It has been four long years since i have last visited my motherland but being in malaysia and after seeing its god gracious nature's crafted scenery, i felt almost home. For the next two days, there was no television and computer nor was there any studies and life of hustle and bustle. There was peace where i experienced a deep spiritual interaction with the blooming nature.There, I had my soul in dipped fresh air and my mind purified in soothing breeze. Kota Tinggi was naturally beautiful but artificially ugly.The mountains which were hidden in the midst of clouds, towered around the location. The group of buses arrived at Kota Tinggi around 1pm, five hours after we started from Unity Secondary School. It was more a small cosy village with outstandingly small population. The bus parked near the resort as students rushed out under the scorching sun that burnt the life out of me in the next two days.Anyway, we lined up in twos as we waited to enter the Kota Tinggi resort.

WELCOME TO KOTA TINGGI

As the mid noon approached,the temperature seemed to have gained its momentum. I was full of energy to get started with the camp despite realising the slightly devastating effect of the weather there.The campsite loomed somewhere behind, just a river a bank away from the resort.Oviously, to get there, something special has to come on the way,right? There were no boats of course but there was a bridge, a long cranky bridge.The bridge stretched for about 100metres where hollow woods were supported by marginally thick ropes giving the bridge itself a very weak foundation. Any monkey business would mean a share of thrill and disgust and of course pain in the cloggy river that lies underneath.It was so exciting for some to cross the bridge that they succumbed to emotional disorder as their tears rose the river banks and their shrieks welcomed avalanches.(jusk kidding). So much about crossing a bridge,huh? what greeted us after the "ordeal" was a genuine scenary of celestial nature. Seething under the sun was a pond which surrounded the canteen,campsite, rock climbing building and interesting locations for the respective activities. From the edge of the bridge, the pond laid on the north-east just in front of the canteen which was parallel and right to the restroom.In front of my view was a valley that took a gradual turn towards right to meet the rock climbing station. Sloping down the valley was the venue for a game called the indiana jones where there will be 2 teams and each must try topple the oppostion out of the raft floating on the shallow water. Just by it was the pond. On my east stretched a long grass patch that was oviously used as pavement which lead to our campsite. After years in urban life, the smell of sweet grass was irresistible. After a good glimpse of the place, i moved on with my friends to the campsite. We were given a briefing on how the camp was going to work and what was its expectation of us. The place was also introduced thoroughly and then boys and girls marched seperate ways to their campsite to pitch their tents. The girls campsite was seperated from the boys' by bushes and a drain that required a bridge to cross.There were altogether 12 tents pitched up for let's say 220 boys! that meant 220/12=around 18 guys in each tent!! ofcourse it was crazy but that was the first cool experience of the camp. 18 people in a tent of a queen size bed. i lived that moment by moment.

I am sorry, my mood has taken a change and i so i have decided to end it right here.

HOW PASSION FOR SPORTS BETRAYED

Well, i could stay quiet no longer.
This is it. We are facing a brutal reality which we hate to realise because we always thought things cannot turn out to be the way it should never be. We, the sports lovers, can feel the
what is wrong. I really don't know how to explain this but I am really feeling very emotional.
Being a fan of sports, my soul is tortured and haunted at the realisation of sports scandals.
From ICC cricket world cup being doomed by murder to relegation of the Italian former
seria A former champion, Juventus and everything that happened in between(not to mention
everything that still happening) that showered the fans with disappointment created a tragic
turn around in sports history. SPORTS REPUTATION HAS BEEN SHATTERED, ESPECIALLY
IN CRICKET AND FOOTBALL(soccer).

Why all this happening? where is the problem? I do not know but what we fans do know is how we feel and react to our daily disappointment.We criticise our sports heroes, who gave us joy and faith during their promising spell, when they are underperforming. Ronaldinho, Maradona,
Jaques kallis, steve harmirson and etc. had seen the cruel side of their career and the they know
they did not get what they deserved.Yes, mild criticism can be effective but pure sacarism can
be a deadly form of criticism that can devastate a legend's wonderfully crafted career.
These people are never remembered for what they had done good.
Look at maradona.
So what he took drugs and kicked his dog underwater?
So what if he smoke until he dies?
So what if he dies or live the way he wants to?
What's our problem people? what do we have got to do with his private life?
Of course we have got something to do with it don't we because that's the typicallity of people
like us, isn't it?
Like maradona, Ronaldinho has been destroyed internally.
Then, you have kallis and harmirson whose talents were deliberately killed by the politics in cricket. Theyeeling an undesirable extent of deppression but why do we care?
We are the audience aren't we?
We are the rich boogies aren't we? When the once beautifully polished pair of shoes worns out,
we throwthem out to get a new polished ones instead of trying to repair it. THE SHOW MUST
GO ON,RIGHT?

Introduction of a rising genius

this is my first blog and i would like the world to hear out my summer break outbrust.

WELCOME TO THE ART OF LIFE.

SENSE FREEDOM AND SECRETE PASSION.