Bassim
VIP Member
- Joined
- Mar 1, 2008
- Member Type
- Student or Learner
- Native Language
- Bosnian
- Home Country
- Bosnia Herzegovina
- Current Location
- Sweden
This is the third part of my short story Professor Cosma. Please, would you take a look at it correct my mistakes.
The future professor understood that his only escape was through education. And he was not alone. All his brothers and sisters as well as his playmates were tired of walking kilometre after kilometre, day after day, and taking care of sheep, cows and other animals. Probably this was one of the reasons why they had been so motivated to pass their exams and receive their qualifications. At the same time, they aroused envy and hatred among the students from the towns and cities, who saw them as a threat to their own careers, because these yokels had the will, patience, stubbornness and resourcefulness they themselves never had.
After spending 18 months doing his compulsory military service and learning how to defend the socialism from the evil capitalists, he decided to study history. This was the subject in which he was mostly interested since he had started school. Whenever they had a history lesson, he would sit almost immobile and absorb every word uttered by his teacher. He was never bored or tired of learning how people behaved in the past, how they oppressed each other, and how they always invented more effective weapons to kill their brothers and sisters.
There was no doubt that human beings had great imagination, especially when it came to destruction and mass murder. He was eager to know more about that to be able to understand better humankind and civilisation. He moved to the city, which came as a bit of a shock to him: broad streets filled with speeding cars, lorries and buses, pavements swarming with busy passersby, large department stores and other shops, which made one dizzy, impressive buildings, which commanded respect, but also grey block of flats where people lived close to each other and always remained strangers. He got a room in a hall of residence, which he shared with three other students, and often with two more, so called illegals, who were unable to obtain a room in a regular way. They slept on mattresses on the floor and made the room crowded. However, there was an unwritten rule among the students that the illegals should have the same right as the others, and nobody would have dared to tell them to move away. So many people in such a cramped place made reading and learning impossible, and the future professor Cosma would spend hours in a library or a reading room where he would peruse not only history books but also other literature. He was good at languages and could read German and French books without difficulty.
Soon some of his fellow students called him a “swot,” but he did not care. They were just envious at a village boy who was desirous of knowledge. When he was not reading books, he was trying to find any kind of job, from construction sites to cafes and restaurants. And while his fellow students danced in disco clubs or flirted with their female colleagues at weekends, the future professor was toiling in a hot, steamy kitchen, peeling potatoes, chopping vegetables or sweeping floor. Later in his life, he often thought of those formative years as one of the best in his life. They were difficult and brought him often on the verge of a nervous breakdown, but he stoically endured these adverse conditions and remained faithful to his principles.
To be continued.
The future professor understood that his only escape was through education. And he was not alone. All his brothers and sisters as well as his playmates were tired of walking kilometre after kilometre, day after day, and taking care of sheep, cows and other animals. Probably this was one of the reasons why they had been so motivated to pass their exams and receive their qualifications. At the same time, they aroused envy and hatred among the students from the towns and cities, who saw them as a threat to their own careers, because these yokels had the will, patience, stubbornness and resourcefulness they themselves never had.
After spending 18 months doing his compulsory military service and learning how to defend the socialism from the evil capitalists, he decided to study history. This was the subject in which he was mostly interested since he had started school. Whenever they had a history lesson, he would sit almost immobile and absorb every word uttered by his teacher. He was never bored or tired of learning how people behaved in the past, how they oppressed each other, and how they always invented more effective weapons to kill their brothers and sisters.
There was no doubt that human beings had great imagination, especially when it came to destruction and mass murder. He was eager to know more about that to be able to understand better humankind and civilisation. He moved to the city, which came as a bit of a shock to him: broad streets filled with speeding cars, lorries and buses, pavements swarming with busy passersby, large department stores and other shops, which made one dizzy, impressive buildings, which commanded respect, but also grey block of flats where people lived close to each other and always remained strangers. He got a room in a hall of residence, which he shared with three other students, and often with two more, so called illegals, who were unable to obtain a room in a regular way. They slept on mattresses on the floor and made the room crowded. However, there was an unwritten rule among the students that the illegals should have the same right as the others, and nobody would have dared to tell them to move away. So many people in such a cramped place made reading and learning impossible, and the future professor Cosma would spend hours in a library or a reading room where he would peruse not only history books but also other literature. He was good at languages and could read German and French books without difficulty.
Soon some of his fellow students called him a “swot,” but he did not care. They were just envious at a village boy who was desirous of knowledge. When he was not reading books, he was trying to find any kind of job, from construction sites to cafes and restaurants. And while his fellow students danced in disco clubs or flirted with their female colleagues at weekends, the future professor was toiling in a hot, steamy kitchen, peeling potatoes, chopping vegetables or sweeping floor. Later in his life, he often thought of those formative years as one of the best in his life. They were difficult and brought him often on the verge of a nervous breakdown, but he stoically endured these adverse conditions and remained faithful to his principles.
To be continued.