any english boffs here?

[DhadiMania]

i have some gcse courseowrk and have finished it. i need to know from the english boffs here, how can i improve it? is there anything else i can add/change. the story is called "revenge is sweet" basically its about when beant singh shot indra gandhi.

note: i did change some of the stuff like beant singh was a soldier and quit the army in disgust. as well as indra lived in some massive mansion in a poverty stricken area.

bhol chukke muaff.

heres the story.

Revenge is Sweet

By Sandeep Kandola 10AN.

Crowds have gathered, they have come from far and wide, all eyes are upon me. I can hear them talking in hush hushed tones. I look around and see thousands of faces. I can see some faces staring at me with venomous hatred. Others look at me with intense pity, some are silently crying whilst others look with respect.

I do not care about anything, I am going to my lord the creator. The guards push me up the stairs, I stumble but I am strong. I pick myself up and hold my head up high. I see the noose dangling in front of me, inviting me to put my head through and release me. I am not afraid. The drum beats sound louder and louder faster and faster. As I step forwards nearer the tempting noose the drum beats halt and the guardsman shouted...

"Any last request?"

"This dog doesn’t deserve one" I hear someone shout

"You can not deprive him of his last rites,” cries another. There is silence all around…

"I wish for a few moments to meditate" I humbly requested, meditate upon the name of the lord. I feel no remorse, sorrow or regret for what I have done. I look to my right and see the man who helped me kill Indira Gandhi, will he be next? His Fac

e is expressionless. I look at him knowingly. What we have done we did together for Sikh community. We couldn’t let this injustice carry on any longer.

All the sounds are whirring in my head, I feel slightly dazed. Waheguru, Waheguru I chant to myself. I must be strong, because I am strong. Looking back it has all been done for a good cause, it had to be done.

It was the sixth of June.1984. Crowds flocking to Amritsar were expecting bright fireworks, the sound of Religious hymns being chanted, the Golden Temple lit up on a joyous occasion. People meditating. All of a sudden marching could be heard, it was the Indian army. But what were they doing at the holy shrine armed with tanks? All of a sudden without any warning the army fired at all the innocent people. It was a day of slaughter. The Flash-Bang could be heard continuously around the holy shrine instead of the hymns being sung. It was not the Fire-works that would light up the skies of Amritsar that were sounding, it was the sound of Gun-Fire. The sixth of June would indeed be remembered as a day of terror, a day of fear, a day of tragedy. A day when Indira Gandhi, Prime Minister of India ordered the attack on the Golden Temple. A day when thousands died. A day when the army attempted to destroy the Golden Temple but failed. Word spread like wildfire. The news shocked me. I was dumbstruck, I felt enraged yet filled with intense sorrow. There I was standing there all alone, no-one was there to comfort me. Tell me the reason why? Something we cannot deny, Justice for the suffering had to be done. Tell me the reason behind this, for this was not meant to be. Who could answer these questions, who could claim responsibility of this Crime? I decided to find out these questions myself.

My name, Beant Singh, my occupation, a Soldier in the Elite Snipers Infantry Regiment who just took a break. All this gossip was flying around. I guess I caught it. Yet, so much being said, could this be true? I myself with another friend decided to go along to se

e if this was true. I arrived there, I expected a Majestic site. I expected to see the clean marble floors I expected to walk on, A Temple floating like a Lotus in the middle of a Sacred Pool. All these visions I expected to see, where all dreams. The Golden Temple at the top was black as shadow. The beautiful marble floors I expected to walk upon had tracks like as though snails had just slithered through it. The White marble was in fact swathed in dried blood. Though it was where the Tanks took position. All this made me weep like I never weeped before. Myself and my friend, Satwant Singh stood at the Akal Takhat, the Highest authority of Sikhs. We stood there and made a vow, that we would both avenge these killings. We came out like new people, more determined to do what we wanted to do.

We quit the army in disgust. From Amritsar, we took the small train to Delhi. Though the Train stank, we were glad we were closer to getting our target. There we saw her House of Residence, it stood out like the Gold stuck in Manure. A poverty-stricken area she lived in yet it was hard to believe such a beautiful home could be made here. We decided to sign up as Mrs. Gandhi’s new bodyguards. Nothing was said. We went up to office. Asked for Mrs. Gandhi, yet she was not there. The officer stared at me, twiddling his moustache and said in a husky voice "Just sign and you will guard her the next day."

And so the day arrived, it was the ninth of November. Mrs. Gandhi had just finished doing her make-up. She looked a lot different to what she looked on the television. Her big eyes clouded with tears as she looked around. Her white hair on one side seemed to be invading the side with black hair rapidly. It seemed, as she was growing old in front of my eyes.

"Shall we go now gentlemen?" She said in an Old Grandmothers voice.

We began to escort her, we had prepared for this day for along time. Me and Satwant Singh were communicating through expressions. "Mrs Gandhi?" She looked at Satwant as he Pointed his gun at

her. Her eyes full of shock and dismay. "Help!" she just about managed to gasp. We pounced on her like two lions taking its prey at a vulnerable time. There was no-one around, I had waited for this moment I grabbed her by the throat and put my hands around her neck and squeezed her throat so hard I could see her face turning blue and her eyes opening wider and wider. Then I threw the evil witch against the wall and pulled out my gun and at the same time so did Satwant. And then… BANG! I shot Indira Gandhi. As we fired the shots at Indira Gandhi, she shrieked in agony and fell onto the floor, her Sari was now covered in blood .The deed was now done. Satwant and myself looked at each other, we had done it, we both felt so proud. There was not a moment to lose. We began to run as fast as we possibly could. An Ambulance was well on the way. However, we realized someone saw our deed. Word spread like forest fire. Gangs began to run after us. Police ran after us. It was the great escape.

"Find the two Singhs" each poster said, "Find Beant Singh, a red turbaned Sikh with a long beard with brown eyes, find Satwant Singh, Orange turbaned with a small beard. REWARD 1 MILLION RUPEES WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE."

We dodged the crowds but turned ourselves in. And that’s why I am here now.

Now I am standing here, looking at the crowd. Fools, I think to myself. "Do not pity me, what I have done, I have done for Sikh community. If anyone dare try and destroy our precious Sikh shrines, we shall avenge them.”

"Kill him!” shout the Guards. As the guards push me towards the noose I hear

Satwant chanting Hymns. I pray to the Lord as the black bag it put over my head. I have served my purpose in life. I have sought revenge on the woman who dared attack our holy shrine and removed her evil influence from the world. Drumbeats start banging, the flap beneath me is opened. I hang, as lie there dying, I can hear people booing me. But I can only hear the sweet melody of the harmonium. My head feels light and my bod

y feels like it is floating towards the sky. I can hear the melody of the harmonium growing louder and louder and see a beautiful white light in the sky. I look down and see Satwant Singh coming to join me; together our souls float towards the white light. We can see angels, coming to take us to meet God. We shall finally meet him at last. As we are floating towards the bright light we see the ghost of Indira Gandhi looking haggard beneath us. We hear her screams but carry on towards the path of bright light. My oh my how revenge is sweet.

[SSB]

vwihgurU jI kw Kwlsw!

vwihgurU jI kI &iqh!!

BOLE SO NIHAALLLLLLL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

bhaji that was beautiful there is know other way i can say it YOUR SO WICKED :wub:

[SSB]

:g :g ; :wub: :e: :nihungsmile:

[Singhstah]

Waheguroo Jee Ka Khalsa!

Waheguroo Jee Kee Fateh!!

HOW ON EARTH CAN THAT BE IMPROVED

IT IS AMAZING

BOLAYYYYYYYYYYYY SOOOOOOOOO NIHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALLLLL nihungsmile: :v :g :

[atl singh]

THATS REALLY GOOD.

[pkaur]

..... thats for GCSE's!!! WOW ... my old work .. now seems like alphabet! ... no improvements needed! :a+ just tooooo good !

[DhadiMania]

NOTE, THANKS TO THE SHAHEEDI IMMORTALITY TRACK, WHICH INSPIRED ME TO MAKE THE STORY. THE FOLLOWING SONGS WHICH INSPIRED ME WERE......

PUNJAB (FOR THE PART WHEN INDRA TRIED TO FINISH SIKHI, BUT FAILED, IMMORTAL PRODUCTIONS, PLEASE DONT SUE LOL :wub: )

WARCRIES (FOR WHAT PEOPLE EXPECTED AT SRI DARBAR DARBAR SAHIB I.E. THE FIREWORKS)

BLOOD FOR BLOOD (THE SARANGI PART JUST REMINDED ME OF WHEN BEANT AND SATWANT SINGH AS COOL SINGHS, AND HOW THEY KILLED INDRA. I THINK BEANT SINGH AND SATWANT HAVE ALWAYS BEEN COOL FOR DOING WHAT THEY DID).

THANKS

[atl singh]

great stuff