I was ten years old and enrolled in an English language course in Pakistan—a respected program created by Afghans, for Afghans. Our teacher was the General Director of the course, a highly capable, admirable, and distinguished man. I was the youngest student in his class, and most of the older students treated me with kindness and affection.
One of the grammar topics we covered was modal verbs. I hadn’t mastered them, but I had memorized the definition very well—even a subtle nuance in how they were used, that if the teacher would ask about it, I would explain the concept confidently. I took pride in knowing the answer, especially at such a young age.
And honestly—I loved answering especially because I felt proud when the teacher appreciated me. It meant even more because I was the youngest in the room. Imagine the excitement ! Being recognized at that age, in a class of older students, made me feel extra special.
As a child, I always felt happy when I got appreciated by important people — be it my Father or Teacher. However, I don’t like everybody’s appreciation.
Several months went by. By then, most students must have had forgotten the finer points of that topic. One day, the teacher asked again, “Who can define this grammar point?” I raised my hand, ready with the answer. But he didn’t call on me. Instead, he asked another student.
Then the teacher asked again, “Who remembers the exact way this grammar rule is used?”
I did remember, but I hesitated. A small doubt crept in: What if I’m wrong?
I debated with myself: Should I speak up or stay silent?
In the end, I said nothing.
Moments later, the teacher gave the correct answer himself. The word was “conjecture.”
(Modal verbs are often used to express conjecture—possibility, uncertainty)
And just like that, I had missed my chance.
For days, I regretted it. I kept thinking, I should have said the answer. Even if I’d been wrong, it wouldn’t have mattered—others had given incorrect answers too. But I didn’t take the risk. I stayed silent. And I lost the opportunity to be recognized, to feel that favorite pride again.
Moral:
In life, some chances must be taken—even if we’re not completely sure.
We might actually be completely right and just don’t know it yet.
And if it won’t harm anyone—me, you, or anyone else—
then why not give yourself that one chance?
Noorin Khwaja Eshaan 