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Janna, the indescribable girl


            From those so missed lovely innocent primary school years, I still recall a very special classmate. Her name was Janna, and she was considered the odd-one-out student in our school. She didn't hang out with any of the other kids, and she didn't look like making friends at all. She constantly stayed by herself on a bench beneath the Mahogany tree reading, painting or writing poetry. She looked older than her age. At first, I thought she was a weird snobbish big-headed little lady, or maybe she suffered from a complex emotional disorder, but I was totally wrong.

            Janna was a pretty svelte girl with wide rapture-blue eyes and a well shaped dainty nose within a beautifully round healthy face. Her teeth, when she smiled (and by the way she rarely did), were like rows of shiny polished diamonds. Her pitch-black hair was straight and soft like silk. Its slow motion through the twist gave you the impression that the breeze had been blowing especially to raise and crash it back on her shoulders to marvel the world of beauty to which Janna belonged exclusively. She always wore kidult clothes in a wacky way, and she never seemed to care about the kids’ bitter sarcastic comments. Many of my classmates whispered that she had been arrogant, some said she had witch traits and others thought she had been loner; unfortunately they were all shamefully mistaken. She was actually over-self confident, and sensibly assiduous.

            Janna was so punctual that she had never missed a class or a meeting. She was an example to follow, as our teachers used to tell us incessantly. In hard times, she was so sweet and caring a person that she was the first to offer assistance and guidance. She helped the other pupils with their school projects whenever she felt they were in trouble, and she was always good at that. She never let anyone of her classmates down. Although she was not sociable enough at times, she amazed us with her sense of collaboration and organisation during team work. We all had the impression that she owned the traits of a leader. We all listened to her and did as she said unquestionably, and we usually outranked the other teams even in regional competitions.

            Janna was truly a talented poet. Her poems were always among the top-five, if not the best of all. Her refined poems were all talking about a shy skinny and fragile little boy with curly auburn hair that had difficulty showing his true feelings. She described him so marvellously well and so lovely that every one of us craved to be that lucky boy. Her poems were moving and inspiring. "She is a sort of an intellectual bookish freak!" most of my friends murmured. When they listened to her reciting those stunningly composed poems, they assumed she belonged to the Knight Ages; however, in computer classes, she was the only one of us so capable of using the new technological jargon that we remained completely mouth-gaped during her presentations. "Hey, look! they observed, "She knows everything. She must be an extraterrestrial". I didn't understand why they just endeavoured to find fault in what she did, or in what she said. Obviously they envied her, so did I; but each one alone loved her so jealously, and they secretly wished to befriend her.

            For my part, I had immediately changed my mind and admitted she had been the best of all of us. She was somehow weird because she was different from the other kids, but in the positive sense of the word. Though those infancy bygone times are already ages far back in time, I still miss Janna so much. And now if you have come across that same Janna I'm talking about or you have known her, please take off your hat and show her respect. She had been the torch in all her classmates’ dreams igniting ambition and excellence in the hearts of those green kids. One day, like me, the world will recognize her superiority, her ascendancy and her inspirational character without too much propaganda.

            Dear Janna, if it happens that you read these words by chance, do please try to remember me, I was the skinny little boy with the curly auburn hair who inspired you.

M. Abdessalami

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