Essay On How I Spend My Sunday .I wish every day was a Sunday but alas! the day comes after waiting for six long days. We praise God who, made this day especially for the students. I have not to get up at 5 A.M. and get ready for college. My mother knows it and does not touch me before 7 A.M. She is so sweet when she tells me that the breakfast is ready.
I leave the bed with a heavy' heart and spend maximum time in the bathroom. We have formed a small club of cricket players who assemble in the park to play the game. We have devised the wickets and ball. We' have also settled the boundary of the park as the boundary of our ground. Mother sends for me to take lunch and it is only when she herself appears at the scene that I go back home. I never miss the lessons on cricket by Zaheer Abbas which are telecast from the Lahore station.
Our teachers load us with heavy home-work. The parents check my school diary and do not allow me to out till I have finished it. I try to dash through it as fast as possible. I never miss the Sunday movie on the T.V. It is the best source of enjoyment. Sometime I invite my friends to visit my house. We discuss our plans to organise some friendly match with other clubs. We also go to the park to see Nature bathed in all its beauty.
The park of our locality has own frost prize in the annual competition and is one of the best maintained ones.
In the evening, when we sit for supper. the fear of getting up early next morning again grips my mind. I remind my mother to wake up early, so that. I could finish the remaining home-work. Before going to sleep. I bid sad farewell to my dear Sunday and wish to come again as soon as possible in the form of a holiday.
I leave the bed with a heavy' heart and spend maximum time in the bathroom. We have formed a small club of cricket players who assemble in the park to play the game. We have devised the wickets and ball. We' have also settled the boundary of the park as the boundary of our ground. Mother sends for me to take lunch and it is only when she herself appears at the scene that I go back home. I never miss the lessons on cricket by Zaheer Abbas which are telecast from the Lahore station.
Our teachers load us with heavy home-work. The parents check my school diary and do not allow me to out till I have finished it. I try to dash through it as fast as possible. I never miss the Sunday movie on the T.V. It is the best source of enjoyment. Sometime I invite my friends to visit my house. We discuss our plans to organise some friendly match with other clubs. We also go to the park to see Nature bathed in all its beauty.
The park of our locality has own frost prize in the annual competition and is one of the best maintained ones.
In the evening, when we sit for supper. the fear of getting up early next morning again grips my mind. I remind my mother to wake up early, so that. I could finish the remaining home-work. Before going to sleep. I bid sad farewell to my dear Sunday and wish to come again as soon as possible in the form of a holiday.
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