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Friday, November 6, 2015

An Autobiography of Time (English Project Class XI WBCHSE)

The English project for Class XI had been given to us a little while ago and we were blessed (or burdened) with three different genres - Dramatisation,Story Extension and Writing an Autobiography. Of course writing an autobiography was what had the capacity to turn into something very,very original.I was unable to decide my topic for quite a while until I felt I was either going to write about time,space or about river,something that had flow and was too obscure to be understood fully.Time was something that related all of itself,space and river.So,this is my final project and now that I have completed it,I am going to share it with you.

PLEASE CONSIDER THAT THIS IS NOT MEANT FOR COPYING AND PASTING AND SUBMITTING AS YOUR SCHOOL PROJECT.I POSTED THIS SO THAT THE FORMAT AND WAY OF WRITING COULD MEAN SOME HELP TO PEOPLE.NOT MEANT TO BE COPIED.PLAGIARISM IS A LEGAL OFFENCE AND A WORSE IMPRESSION ON YOUR MORALITY.



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PROJECT GENRE – AUTOBIOGRAPHY


TOPIC – AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF TIME


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WRITTEN AND SUBMITTED BY – TITAS BISWAS


CLASS – XI

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Acknowledgement

I extend my warm regards and gratitude to the Respected Principal and the insightful subject teacher to make it possible to work on this project. The project genre is interesting and has helped me to exercise my philosophical and writing skills.
I have enjoyed working on this topic and I am thankful to the subject teacher for allowing me to work on an otherwise unusual topic. I also thank the authority for providing the necessary time in order to complete this project.

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Certificate

This is to certify that this project has been made by Titas Biswas of Class XI on the topic ‘Autobiography’ under the guidance of our English teacher ................ and has been completed it sucessfully. 
Yours truly 
Titas Biswas
Class XI


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Introduction

What is an autobiography?

An autobiography is a written account of the life of a person written by that person. In other words, it is the story that a person wrote about themselves.
The word has Greek origin.
There are but few and scattered examples of autobiographical literature in antiquity and the Middle Ages. In the 2nd century bce the Chinese classical historian Sima Qian included a brief account of himself in the Shiji (“Historical Records”). It may be stretching a point to include, from the 1st century bce, the letters of Cicero (or, in the early Christian era, the letters of St. Paul), and Julius Caesar’s Commentaries tell little about Caesar, though they present a masterly picture of the conquest of Gaul and the operations of the Roman military machine at its most efficient. Generally speaking, autobiography in its modern, Western sense can be considered to have emerged in Europe during the Renaissance, in the 15th century. One of the first examples was written in England by Margery Kempe.


Information Credit : Wikipedia, 
Britannica Encyclopedia 

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CONTENT

Thinking about if or how I was born will bourne no fruit in my eternal hands. I am the one who gives birth, I am who lets things flow, from one form to another. The flow with an automaticity in its consistency, is constancy. I mark the beginning and I mark the beginning of the end. I give birth to beginning and end, I shape the flow of all that has the capability to flow. I am the reason things are, I am the reason things become. I am the reason to life , I am the reason for its continuity. I am who sustains continuity. I am who sustains sustenance. I am the ultimate witness, I am the true judge.
I know how to talk about the only one who has remained constant from the beginning of the beginning  : change. Change is the plank I survive on. My wings are grey, a combination of black and white. They are weary, they are dusty but they are legendary. They are who mark what is legendary. They carry every particle this universe has ever perceived through touch – from stardust to teardrops,from mercury to gold. I carry all the shades and colours that constitute the black and the white in my wings.I carry generations in me, through change, through flow.
I am the ultimate observer of consumption and utilization.

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I am who consumes and utilizes both consumption and utilization. I am who shapes strength and exhaustion, I am also the reason why we need either strength or exhaustion.I am who decides incidence and its position in one’s life. I am the one who witnessed life get born from stars.

 


I embrace vacancy, I embrace truth. I am the fourth dimension of space. I form the mirror and I am the image. I am reality embedded in oblivion. 


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In my flow, I carry all that was, all that is and all that’s to happen till eternity. I carry eternity infinitely. I carry infinite infinitely.

 


From the art of elation to that of sorrow, I teach life to live. I determine the storms that rage through, I determine the storm and the rage and all the water that flows, all that penetrates, within the life of the living and that of the tranquil.

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The load I carry is infinitely heavier than Atlas ever has had to. He is known to have carried the weight of the planet earth on his shoulders. I have carried the load of the universe, alone, for the sake of all the ages I have given birth to.
I am the creator, I am creativity, I am the determinant, the ultimate judge, the flow, the infinite and I am who was born to myself. My rebirth marks eternity. My weary eyes, after millions of wars and talks of peace get wearier as I pass on; only the sparkle in them retains the tone in a mixture of silver and golden. I am far and I am near,I am who is close to the soul, yet I am the one who knows no bounds and my entities are unknown to everyone else existent in the universe.

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I inflate and I contract and I continue to be the only cause for causes. I inflict pain, I accumulate within the accentuations of thought, to fade sorrow away. I am the reason to laughter, I am who knows why the heart beats. I am the source to all answers and I am right in front of all the eyes that still live. Yet, no eyes have the light to propagate through me, through the great secrets I have been preserving till date. Some know that they exists, some are doubted about the very existence of them, some doubt the notion of them being so obscured. 

I am not transparent, no one can see through me fully. I am immortal and have no death. I have been continuing walking my lonely way ever since I began my journey. The journey that continues through mountains and rivers and seas and the deep foliage, the sweet voice of the birds, the smoothness of deep brown in clay, the grains of sand, the enthusiastic fins of the fish, the deep inside, that can’t be named. All that is and was and is to be mark my immortality. I marked what is called the beginning today and the end is not perceivable to me. I am the only creator, the most powerful and the unknown in myself. I will continue for far more ages to come. I will walk my way. I will have my adventurous ride and I will take you through that flow that is beyond wrong, beyond right, beyond ‘truth’ : life. 




Post Script : The project does not actually involve any help from any teacher or guide or website in order to be written.Certificate /Acknowledgement is plain statutory.

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