Essay on “The Autobiography of an Old Coin” English Essay-Paragraph-Speech for Class 8, 9, 10, 11 and 12 CBSE Students and competitive Examination.
The Autobiography of an Old Coin
Old coins are sometimes thrown away, but I live in a beautiful wooden box and am a coin-collector&#;s pride. There are many more like me, of different shapes and sizes, and we all live in harmony.
I was born many years ago out of silver. People called me a Rupee Coin.
I was handled by many people, who took me to all parts of the country. Though my value was less compared to my companions, nevertheless, I was exchanged for food, books, clothes, cinema tickets, cold drinks on hot summer days, and so many other things that money can buy.
I was jingled and kept in purses, and sometimes tossed up in the air, or thrown on the ground and turned round and round. You see, I was always being used for something!
The worst experience I had was when I was thrown into a dirty puddle. I shivered and felt the dirt sink into my body, and a huge foot trampled me. I had hardly recovered from the shock, when I was picked up, wiped clean and given to a sweet vendor. He threw me into a small tin box, and tired, I f
Autobiography Of a Coin for Class ,Std 5,6,7 | School Essay
This essay (Autobiography On a Coin) is fit for school students of class 5,6, or 7. Students of higher class are requested to suggest us to improve this autobiography on coin.
I was born in a mint near Mumbai. I am twelve years old and I was sent to Kolkata from Mumbai. You know, who I am. Guess, I am a two rupees coin. I am telling you the days that I nearly spent. When I was made I was shining but a man; who was carrying me, fell me down. I was sad. No one saw me and without seeing me they kept leg on me and went away. Soon my shine also had gone away. Days were passing like this and I was getting hurt in same brutal way. But one day a girl&#;s eyes fell on me. She took me in her hand and kept me in her pencil box. Her name was Smita. This new place was nice, cool, safe and better for me. I lived there very comfortably. I passed two to three days in this box . Whenever Smita used to open her pencil box she used to see my smiling. After seeing me, she was thinking something in her mind. One day Smita got a five rupees coin. She kept the coin beside me. Now I had a friend; with whom I
ENGLISH ESSAY CLASS 5
I was born on 19th day of July in the mint. I am a one-rupee coin.
After I was born the authorities packed me inside a trunk and I was taken to the bank. I made many other friends - one-rupee, two rupees and five rupees coins. One day I was given to one man in a transaction who came to the bank. As soon as I was given into his hands he picked me up from his palm with happy and cheerful eyes and put me in a separate pocket. I was feeling very proud that I was the most handsome coin among all other coins.
I stayed there for many days. As I was his lucky coin and he would not give me to anyone. But one day my keeper got pick pocketed and I fell into the hands of a rogue. He stuffed me in with his other dirty coins. I was feeling horrified. But one day I felt relieved when the rogue gave me to a panwala for a cigarette. As I was a shiny coin the shopkeeper kept me in a separate box. There I met many of my old friends who were released from the mint on the same day. Then when
In this article, I&#;ll show you an example of an autobiography writing of a one rupee coin.
I used to just have a big scrap of metal before I got the name Coin. I did not always look like this. I used to look like a pale, metallic sheet that does not have an appealing shape.
All my ancestors looked like this. Everyone was pale and everyone was just a piece of metal. People used to cut my ancestors, use them for various purposes but they would never value them.
After the metal rots, they would throw it away and buy a new one. We were only used but never seen, never respected, never loved. Then one day, late in the B.C, we were shaped by humans and we were given certain value to us.
Ever since then, all our relatives, be it copper, gold or silver, some of us got transformed to beautiful round shapes that carried a value people longed to have in their pockets. We were transformed from mere, ugly looking metals to coins.
Just like my ancestors, I was dug up from the ground by humans. A big, heavy, shapeless, ugly piece of rock was converted into money. Money is something that everyone loves and craves for.
When I was first
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