Original Writing

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Original Writing It was mid day and the snow had settled and was quite heavy. The sky was thick and ocean grey with it. A jumbo jet lumbered out of the clouds towards Heathrow airport. It approached the runway guided by lights from the ground. Among the herd of passengers was I, a young asian girl. I sat clutching my seat, feeling scared, whilst the plane made its bumpy landing. I followed the other passengers out to the airport bus and into the entrance. I was bewildered and exhausted, and the stinging blizzard frightened me a little. I had heard of snow but never seen it; it was cold wet stuff that clung onto your hair and eyelashes. I shivered as I waited for my luggage, holding tight onto my woolen coat that my mum had bought me to wear over my shalwar kameeze. I didn't understand the customs officer who spoke to me. His English was far too fast for me to follow. I had learned a little in school, in India, but only understood when spoken to slowly. I followed the chattering groups again, too scared to look for a trolley for my lugguage. I felt confused by the pale and indistinguishable faces of the English travellers and by the rapid prattle of their voices. "I must be brave," I thought "for my family back home I must be brave" After all the tedious waiting and searching, I finally got through the arrival lounge. Instantly I caught sight of my auntie Selina and Uncle Tariq, waiting for me. I forced my tears to stop and cracked a smile. They greeted and welcomed me and assured me this is where I belong. They couldn't have children so therefore fostered me. My father died a couple of years ago so my mother couldn't financially bring all five of us up on her own. I hope I will be able to meet my mum again. I am already starting to miss her. "ye behtar yahan aur tum bahut khush ho gain," (It is better here for

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