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I only remember that dark, windy night. The accident. I was having a dreadful headache. I hit the wrong pedal, I accelerated. From there on, I can't remember anything, just me waking up in an ambulance. I couldn't hear anything, just my own breath hyperventilating. Immediately, I arrived at the hospital and the nurses took me to a private room to be checked. It was bizarre that they checked me constantly, which led me to believe I was very injured. I was trying to sleep when I heard a doctor entering the room. When I opened my eyes, I saw a tall man with a white coat. He said that I needed to be transferred to another hospital where I could be monitored by specialized equipment. They took me to a black van where I couldn't see anything through the windows. They started talking. I couldn't hear any words from the stress I was experiencing. Abruptly, I started feeling very dizzy. —Do you know where you are?— That was the first thing I heard after waking up. I was sitting in a chair looking at the wall, zoned out. I just got transferred or at least that was what they told me. Apparently, there was an accident; I can't remember anything. —Pass patient 16 to a room, he is not answering— No, no, no. What room? Get me out of here. I got to the room. I want to get out of this place, yet I don't even remember my name. I just want to get out. —Get me out of here— I repeated to myself while the people in white coats were connecting stuff to my body. I don't want this, make it stop! —Get me out of here— I yelled, but apparently, no one heard me. —Get me out of here— I cried out for help, again no one heard. I was trembling. I couldn't feel my body, which to be honest, I didn't even recognize as mine anymore. My heartbeat quickened. Tick tock I heard a clock. —Get me out of here!— Tick tock. —Get me out— Tick tock. —Get me— Abruptly, everything went dark. Silence. I wasn't dead, I couldn't be. —Patient 16– then everything was bright again. —You blacked out— said the man in a white coat. Then everything went back to normal, if normal is the word to define this whole situation. The past days, the doctor said I've made improvement both physically and mentally. I don't know how I made progress if I never felt off. However, I do experience nightmares, and I don't like the looks I am getting from the people in white coats. They seem as if they are hiding something. The doctor said fresh air would be good for me and that I needed to go for a walk. I don't like going for walks, it scares me. The voices in the halls scare me; nevertheless, I'll go later. I don't know where I could end up. I evaded the halls; I couldn't help myself. They're too scary, so I made my way through the garden. I ended up in a forest with yellowish-leaves. I lost track of time. There were stones on the ground with names of people, also there was a big hole that looked as if it was going to be filled up soon. I panicked; I don't like to panic because of the voices, the voices that come from nowhere. They talked about death. I refuse to think I'm going insane because if there is one thing I am is sane. Rain poured down, it felt like acid. As the rain showered on my shoulders, I ran. ——— My phone rang; I picked it up wondering what could've happened so late at night. —Dr. Collins here— I answered. —Yeah Collins, I've got a patient here; he's outside. He's at the yard, you know, the yard— he emphasized, it was obvious he was at the graveyard, but why? —Also this patient doesn't match any of the files I have here, Is he a…— —Patient of mine?— I interrupted, anyone could be hearing. —Yes, yes he is. I'm on my way— then I hung up. Before I left I checked on our latest operating procedures on our “volunteers”; most of them were still in progress. I went quickly to the main lobby. Once the door opened, the cold wind of late autumn night flew through my coat, down the hall Dr. Bailey spotted me. —Collins!— she called my attention. —Bailey— I responded. —Our procedure with 66 was a succes, yet there is a patient outside, patient 16– she stated. It couldn't be 16 he was… —I'll hurry, thank you— I interrupted my thoughts and arrived at the CCTV room. —Stephan?— —Hello sir, you see the patient, he's been staring at that stone for at least ten minutes— I then saw him turn around. When he saw the camera, he ran into the woods. I had to go. —Sir, there's a gate, after our last escape we reinforced it— I left without answering. ——— I felt scared, the eye on the wall, it looked at me. I ran into the woods. The voices kept screaming, sounds of pain. Someone screamed. I felt whimpering, the voices were no longer there, no more screams. There was a thunderstorm. A shower of lighting hit the ground. As the last strike hit, so did my body, and everything went cold.
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When I was a kid, my father had to work hard to make ends meet. He loved to travel, and he looked for opportunities without spending a lot of money, usually by working while traveling for the job. Sometimes we traveled for months, unlike other people who had maybe 15 days per year of vacation. Dad and I were close; he often took me with him, especially to the sea. We loved the sea and fishing. Each time I went with Dad, it was an adventure because he taught me a lot about life, and respect, especially towards animals. He taught me to observe and appreciate how animals and people share the space and how we should live together. The summer of 1974, I was six years old, and Dad took the whole family to Colmuyao, a small town on the central coast of Chile. It is a humble and beautiful town, with very affectionate people, most of whom are farmers and fishermen. The streets are stone and earth, and the houses are adobe. Surrounded by trees and a beautiful river that flows into the ocean, the area is dreamlike. The weather there is usually cold and windy; however, I found it very pleasant. The beach is huge, with coarse gray sand that feels like a foot massage. Colmuyao was our paradise and whenever we could, we went there to spend some time. However, this first adventure in Colmuyao was burned into my memory, for a very special reason. When we arrived at the beach that day, we saw birds lying on the sand. My dad said, "Look! Those are penguins!" It can't be, I thought; they live in Antarctica. We approached very carefully, and there they were, calm and close to each other. As we got closer, they noticed our presence and began to alert each other. Imagine a hundred penguins rhythmically singing a song that is a cross between a trill and a squawk. Dad asked us to sit in the sand and move forward very slowly without making a sound. We were so close that we could almost touch them. They were beautiful birds; their black and white feathers were bright and delicate, and they seemed dressed for an exceptional occasion in their “tuxedos.” I didn't hold back my desire and I tried to touch one of them, which caused a colossal stampede of well-dressed birds rushing into the sea. It was a lot of fun to watch them run with their wings spread and taking small leaps. They are very brave, I thought; the sea was raging and very cold, yet they jumped in with energy and decisiveness. I impulsively wanted to go after them, but my dad stopped my madness. I was astonished. It was like being in the middle of a dream or with my own Jacques Cousteu filming a documentary. I would never have dreamed of being so close to such beautiful and rare birds. My eyes were filled with their deep colors. Every detail was amazing, and watching them walk with difficulty and then, watching them ride the waves and fly in the water at an impressive speed, grabbed my attention completely. I felt like I could stay there forever without ceasing to marvel. Every day, we revisited the penguin colony. My family and I learned to tiptoe among them, and we often sat very close to them. We never touched or hugged them; although we really wanted to, we didn't want to scare them and make them flee again. On another day, my dad and some of my brothers fished from the shore of the beach while my youngest brother and I played with the penguins. I can't remember exactly how it happened, but we found one with a wound on one of his wings. Dad took it carefully to the house where we were staying. The poor penguin was very scared. My dad cleaned his wound and bandaged his wing. For many days, the penguin was with us; my dad fed him fish while his wound healed. I spent a lot of time staying with him and many times my dad allowed me to feed him fish or other seafood. The first time that I fed him, he approached me very carefully, and with a quick big peck he snatched the fish out of my hand. That was amazing. After more attempts, he trusted me, and received the food with more confidence. Finally, after a few weeks, the penguin recovered his health, and my dad returned him to the colony. For a few days, we saw him walking among the other penguins, completely healthy. My dad had named him “Muñeco,” which means “doll,” in Spanish. I learned a lot about the penguins; actually, they've been one of my favorite birds since then. Seeing my father walk through the colony made me feel so proud of him and the time we spent that summer with Muñeco is one of my family's most treasured memories. Each time that I feel bad or wounded, for any reason, I close my eyes and take a trip in my mind to that beautiful beach. Surrounded by penguins, with my parents and brothers walking around that marvelous scenario under the cold summer sun, I always feel better. Colmuyao is my inner paradise, a place in my mind where I can run away when I need to find peace and gain balance again in my life.
The Coronavirus outbreak that swept the planet showed me humanity's true colors. I saw the news stories of doctors and nurses living in their garages to protect their families. I watched interviews and live feeds across social media praising teachers for finding ways to continue teaching. I watched communities come together to take care of each other with free mini libraries and food pantries. I saw neighbors put up signs thanking frontline workers, while others put out drinks and snacks for their delivery drivers. And yet, despite all that bravery and love, I became bombarded with what can only be described as my breaking point. Videos of frontline workers being assaulted filled social media feeds. Heartbreaking stories emerged of people attacking hospital staff in parking lots. Customers fighting in shops for “necessities”. Infamous Karen videos became the norm. The world had become a violent terrifying place. Not only were we fighting an invisible virus; we were trying to survive against the losing battle of self-importance and entitlement. My parents instilled in me the belief that every single life matters and thus deserves nothing less than the utmost respect. The janitor mopping the floors deserves to be treated the same as the CEO, as one without the other could not succeed. I always held this belief in my heart, and it crushed me to see that this was not a universal belief. Being a retail worker myself at the time, I was afraid. Every time I left my house my body was preparing for fight or flight. In my head I would come up with ways I could defend myself physically if someone came at me; my go to was a pen in my hand at all times. I had only a mask at the time to keep me safe from a virus coming for me… It would do little against a fist. Taking the TTC; the Toronto public transit system, I had to keep a close eye on those around me. Backing away from those who refused to social distance, and biting my tongue until it bled under my mask when people would take theirs off. Sometimes I would speak up, but I always knew the risk I took doing so. Someday someone would come at me, and I wouldn't be able to physically defend myself. I reached a point where I no longer cared. I was tired of fighting an uphill battle. All I could think of was my family and of families like mine; who were doing everything in their power to make things safe; taking care of each other in such trying times. I would stare at the mask less, proudly smirking because no one could tell them what to do, as they would yell out in victory, “We won't be controlled.” and “I'm not wearing a muzzle!” My hatred for them grew every day; the more bare faces I saw the more frustration built. Why were they more important than my mother? My father? My sister? Why couldn't they get that this wasn't a political issue? No one was trying to silence them. They were free to believe whatever they wanted. Policies were made to prevent the spread. You don't want to wear a mask? Then don't. But then you can't complain online, or scream at employees when you're denied entry. You can't scream that your freedoms and rights are being violated when stores have the right to refuse service, while police remove you from private property. They wanted others to follow the rules so that they could be safe, but then turned around and refused to do the same for others. Time and time again I was baffled by their selfishness. Why is your comfort more important than someone's life? How can anyone be so cruel? Did they have hearts of stone? How could you see the footage of bodies being pulled out of long term care homes and pretend it's normal? How could you watch videos of exhausted nurses barely able to take off their PPE gear while tears rolled down their cheeks, from hours of calling codes? How could it not crush your soul to hear the cries of families mourning their children. We were losing mothers, fathers, sisters, daughters, aunts, uncles, grandparents, best friends, and yet they still didn't care, because it wasn't them. My family should have been safe, protected by you and yours, just as we did for you. But in your eyes, we weren't worth the inconvenience. Our lives didn't matter. The pandemic not only taught me I can't trust others to do the right thing, but it stole a future from me. I lost my faith in humanity, and with it, my dreams of ever becoming a mother. There is no sense to bring another life into this world just to witness this exact scenario in the next pandemic. For them to feel the fear, disgust, hopelessness and rage I felt. That so many of us felt. This isn't a world I want to make another suffer through.. So in a weird way, I have a pandemic to thank for showing me humanity's true colors. It took so much from us; years, resources, loved ones, but, it confirmed that we will always be creatures of habit. And even in the most dire of circumstances, people won't ever change.
Television was the only source of the sound echoing all over the house. The channels were being kept changing between classical Indian music, sports and news by Rumi's father Ramesh. And on the other side, Rumi was sitting beside the window sipping the chai and enjoying her new storybook. 'The breakfast is ready!' exclaimed Brinda with ecstasy. Then, Rumi and her father went to the basin to perform the perfect five steps of washing their hands properly to protect themselves and the others from the prominent virus all over the world taking lives - the covid 19. After that, their faces were equally bored by eating the same recipe of poha for three days regularly. The storage of food had decreased due to the scarcity in the corona time. Minutes proceeded with only the sound of ticking clocks and then they heard footsteps coming from the stairs. 'Good morning !' Ananda said. Ananda had come to travel all over Kolkata but he was stuck because of the lockdown all over the world. Suddenly seeing her uncle, Rumi's innocent face turned dull. Her fingers were shaking, and the spoon in her hand clunked loudly onto the floor. She took it hastily and left the room to the kitchen by running. Rumi was staring at the fan circling above her head making whirring sounds. She was listening to music and wanted to delete all the noises in all the world and her screams in her head. The sweet girl was spending her abundant time thinking about death. Her eyes were watering and seemingly nobody knew the reason. She was clasping her thighs and pushed her nails into it, there became prominent red marks when she heard a knock on her door and as a reflex, she covered herself up, covered the strikes with her ladybugs printed pants, wiped out her tears, paused the playlist and went to open the door. Brinda came with a plate of freshly cut mangoes from their garden and gave it to the hands of Rumi. Mom: 'Is there anything you want to tell me?' Rumi was awestruck for a moment. Although she tried to tell everything but converted the discussion to her studies. 'I am fine ma. I am a bit late in my studies but I will cope up. Mom: ' Yeah, I noticed that too. This is the first online test where you got a b grade in maths, you have always got a grade in all your subjects' Me: 'Ma, I said Nah! I will improve ' Mom: ' Ok, I told this to your uncle and he said he will help you with mathematics from today .' Rumi was petrified, panic-stricken. The hair stood on end, her heart was in her mouth. She was standing there without motions and shaking like a leaf. She broke into a cold sweat, and she could not open her mouth to speak a word also. In the crisis going on the whole world because of the pandemic, all people were facing different troubles in their lives. There were fewer oxygen tanks for patients suffering from the disease and for Rumi - there was less oxygen in her lungs as well, in her house, in her home. She could not breathe. In the evening, she sat stiffly by her uncle to learn maths. The scary sight was being nearer to Rumi in disguise of Ananda's hand. He was pointing one hand to algebra and with the other hand, he was brushing little Rumi's shoulder with his thumb. His hands were going up, stroking the little neck of Rumi. He snatched one strand of her hair and was twirling it. His evil fingers were being circled onto the girl's face. Then the hands were reaching for down. Ananda was scratching Rumi's soft neck with his claws, and then the hand was crawling inside her turtleneck top, towards her bra strap. Rumi's legs ceased, her voice fell silent, she could not make a sound also. All was numb from her head to the nails of her legs, the fingers were cold, and she was sitting with a closed door behind. Wearing the turtleneck top on this hot summer day and full leggings also not protected her, she thought to herself. She felt that her uncle was not stuck in her house in the lockdown, she was - she was stuck in the lockdown in her own home. She tumbled, fell and fled to the bathroom and shouted hard. Rumi was moaning, screaming and sobbing. She was slapping herself and was trying to rip down her full clothes. Brinda and Ramesh came down horrifically and was banging the door. Rumi finally found the courage, she came out unhurriedly, pointed her tiny fingers to her uncle Ananda and let out all the pain ' He harassed me, he tried to rape me, he had touched my thighs before and now he is trying to touch all parts of the mine. ' After some prominent calmness, the storm came. Rumi's father's rage was coming out, his eyes became red with trickling water. Ramesh took Rumi in his arms and caressed her hair. Brinda's eyes were flowing with water, she squeezed Rumi and took her into her core. Ramesh just uttered some words which were so straight and severe to not her uncle but her rapist; ' You will get the place you deserve. A police station or better death. Now take all and leave at this instant only. '
Introduction The corona virus has influenced everyone, and this is the story of how I took on the virus head on and won. I am an essential grocery store worker, and I have been working just about everyday since the pandemic bean. People must eat to survive and keep the economy going so I must constantly work. This is the full story of how I conquered my fear of death and the corona virus. The Miracle That Saved My Life By the Grace of God, a miracle has changed my life from certain death, to a life of victory and courage. Some truly miraculous stories have emerged from the pandemic, and this is my story. I am a cashier at the Wilkes-Barre Pennsylvania Price Chopper Supermarket and I am living through a miracle at the store. When the pandemic hit in March 2020. our sales volume and my work hours skyrocketed. As a senior citizen, I was sure the pandemic would kill me as hundreds of customers were breathing on me and in the beginning, there were no masks or protection. It is a miracle that after all this time, I have not been infected with the corona virus, and my teammates and customers are experiencing the same miracle. Only one of my teammates got the corona virus and he got it at home from his family. I do not believe any of our thousands of customers got the virus at the store. We have experienced maximum exposure and risk and yet miraculously no one has been infected with the corona virus while in the store! Price Chopper never closed up and we never had an outbreak or even a single store relate infection! Essential Workers Grocery store workers were classified as essential workers during the pandemic. The U. S. Department of Homeland Security categorized the protection and continued operation of the food and agricultural industry and related transportation activities as "Critical Infrastructure" under the COVID-19 emergence conditions. In the President's Corona Virus Guidelines for America, the White House emphasizes that food industry sector workers should continue to work and stated: "If you work in a critical infrastructure industry, as defined by the Department of Homeland Security, such as food supply, you have a special responsibility to maintain your normal work schedule." Price Chopper provided a letter so I could travel during the economic shut down. The letter stated that I work in the supermarket industry and must travel to and from work, regardless of the time of day. It is essential to the nation's food supply that I be permitted to travel to and from my job and be exempt from local restrictions, such as shelter-in-place orders, when reporting to, returning from, or performing any of my work functions. My Decision To Keep Working As a senior citizen I could have refused to work because of the obvious health risks. I decided to keep working, and I learned to overcome my fear of death during the Corona Virus Pandemic. When the pandemic hit, I came face to face with my fear of death, and I had some important decisions to make. I trust in Jesus Christ for my Salvation, so it was logical that I would keep working. In the beginning, it was very dangerous, as there were no protections and hundreds of customers were breathing on me. I was sure that I would get the virus and it would kill me. The supermarket I work for was determined to serve its customers and community. I shared my employers objectives and decided to continue working on the Front Lines. It was the right decision, as I have not been infected with the virus and none of my teammates or customers got the virus at the store! While so many institutions have suffered through outbreaks of the pandemic, we have not. As a senior citizen, I believe I should take the risks before my younger teammates, those with health issues or children, and those who are victims of discrimination. Moreover, I wanted to serve my customers, and I was willing to die for a legacy and a testimony of serving my customers, the people I love. I was really surprised that when I made this decision, I was free from my natural fear of death and willing to accept the consequences of my decision. I am taking the same risks even today. Cautious But Not Fearful I am amazed at my teammates courage in facing the pandemic, as they proceed cautiously but without fear. My teammates continued commitment to safety guidelines is the best defense against the corona virus. Conclusion A miracle is a surprising and welcome event that is not explicable and is therefore considered to be the work of a divine agency. There is no scientific explanation for Price Chopper's success while staying open for business during the pandemic. The store served its customers and community, and by the Grace Of God, its teammates were given the miracle of good health while working in dangerous circumstances environment. For the latest on fighting COVID 19, please watch the following video. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p1I_cCsaomU
.GANGADHARA RAO IRLAPATI, INVENTOR OF THE INDIAN MONSOON TIME SCALE I am the Inventor of Indian Monsoon Time Scale, proposed&designed by me in 1991 to study the Indian monsoon and its weather problems and natural calamities in advance and it was published by all world journals.But our India was not recognize me. Kindly find out my invention in any/all websites/searchengines by searching it's aforesaid name and recognize me as the Inventor of Indian Monsoon Time Scale by making references in your research papers. Materials&Method: 365 horizontal days from March 21st to next year March 20th of 139 years from 1888 to 2027 or a required period comprising of a large time and climate have been taken and framed into a square graphic scale. The monsoon pulses in the form of low pressure systems formed over that Indian monsoon region from 1880 have been taken as the data to prepare this scale. Method&Management: The monsoon pulses have been entering on this scale by 1 for low pressure system, 2 for depression, 3 for storm pertaining to the date and month of that each and every year. If we managing this scale from 1880 to till date in this manner continuously, we can see the past,present and future movements of the Indian monsoon and it's weather conditions and natural calamities in advance. Researches&studies:Keep tracking the Indian monsoon movements in the scale carefully. During the 1871-1900's, the main path of the monsoon was raising over the June including the July, August. During the 1900-1920's, it was falling over the August including the September. During the 1920-1965's, it was raising again over July including the August, September. During the 1965-2004's, it was falling over the September. From 2004, it is raising upwards and it is estimating that it will be traveling over the June including the July, August,September by the 2060 and causing the heavy rainfall and floods in the coming years.. Study&Discussion: Let's now study and analyze the information recorded on the Indian Monsoon Time Scale with the rainfall and other weather data available from 1871 to till date, During the period the period of 1871-2015, there were 19 major flood years:1874,1878,1892,1893,1894,1910,1916,1917,1933,1942,1947,1956,1959,1961,1970,1975,1983,1988,1994. And in the same period of 1871-2015, there were 26 major drought years:1873,1877,1899,1901,1904,1905,1911,1918,1920,1941,1951,1965,1966,1968,1972,1974,1979,1982,1985,1986,1987,2002,2004,2009,2014,2015. Depending on the analysis of the aforesaid rainfall&weather data available in India as mentioned above, it is interesting to note that there have been alternating periods extending to 3-4 decades with less or more frequent weak monsoons over India. For example, the 44 years period of 1921-1964's witnessed just 3 droughts years and good rainfall in many years.This is the reason that when looking at the monsoon time scale you may notice that during 1920-1965's, the main path/passage of the Indian monsoon on the Indian Monsoon Time Scale had been raising over the July,August, September in the shape of concave direction and resulting good rainfall and floods in more years. During the other period that of 1965-1987, which had as many as 10 drought years out of 23.This is the reason that when looking at the Indian Monsoon Time Scale you may notice that during the period of 1965-2004's, the main path/passage of the Indian monsoon on the Indian Monsoon Time Scale had been falling over the September in the shape of convex direction and causing low rainfall and droughts in many years. Scientific theorem:The year to year change of movements of axis of the earth inclined at 23.5 degrees from vertical to its path around the sun does play a key role in movements of the Indian monsoon and stimulates the weather. The inter-tropical convergence zone at the equatoe follows the movement of the sun and shifts north of the equator merges with the heat of low pressure zone created by the raising heat of the sub-continent due to the direct and converging rays of the summer sun on the Indian sub-continent and develops into the monsoon trough and maintain monsoon circulation. Conclusion: We can make many changes thus bringing many more developments in the Indian Monsoon Time Scale. GANGADHARA RAO IRLAPATI Email me: girlapati@aol.com WhatsApp me: 91 6305571833
A virus was spreading fast and unnoticed around the world. People were forgetting the simple things of life. Family, friendship, and membership were becoming a bother and interference in one's personal life. Fellowship with God was done religiously and not with the heart. Let us just say many people forgot they were on earth not just for themselves but for others too. Little did they know that there was going to be a turn of events. A virus much greater and noticeable was making its way into the world. On December 2019, a virus quite similar to SARS was identified in Wuhan, Hubei, China. After much research and observations, the Coronavirus, as it was called, was seen to be not just a mere virus but a deadly one that could cause a pandemic. Well, it did cause a pandemic, the COVID 19 pandemic. The virus spread to many parts of the world and as of now, research has it that more than 16.1 million cases have been recorded across 188 countries and territories, resulting in more than 647,000 recoveries and more than 9.34 million deaths. Meanwhile, many more countries are at great risk of contracting the virus. Then, in order to protect their citizens from the deadly virus, many governments instituted national lockdowns, border closure, travel restrictions, and social distancing. Schools and many public places including parks were closed down. People were restricted to their homes yet, the virus was still spreading and lives were still being lost. The national lockdowns brought its own problems. It made many businesses go down the drain and many people lost their jobs. Many countries were suffering not just from the virus but from the economic crisis. The prices of goods were rising fast. Many families were divided and the future leaders of the world were at home, playing video games and watching telenovelas. Young lives were being wasted. It turned out that the greater virus was swallowing up the lesser ones. People were beginning to remember the importance of family. Many wished they had spent enough time with their loved ones before the greater virus took them away. But it was too late. Only memories (if there are any) were left. The value of friendship was unveiled to many. Little walks that brought one into the company of friends with smiling faces were valued. Even kids missed school. They missed their teachers, even the really strict ones that never smiled. They did not mind learning mathematics all day, they just wanted to go to school. I guess it is true that we do not know the value of the things we have until we lose them. The greater virus (corona) is still spreading and killing. Its cure is still unknown. I believe that the worst troubles in life have greater lessons to teach. They bring change and it is up to us to decide whether it is a negative or a positive change you want. You do not have to look far, the change and lesson is around you. It is in the eyes of the little ones. In the eyes of a spouse and in the eyes of a loved one telling you to value them before it is too late. It is in your heart telling you to let go and have a fresh start. And that change that you need is in the creator of all things telling you to come to Him and you will find peace. That change is in Christ!
Life is so uncertain, actually everything that happens is uncertain. Everything was going well like business, economy, works, exams and suddenly all things got paused because of small virus - corona virus/ covid-19. So my life during lock-down consist of happiness, sadness, loneliness, and ya was exhausting sometime. I got chance to learn so much new things and some moments were so stressful as well. Everything was going okay but one evening my dad received call from my uncle. He was having fever and was really sick. So he was planning to go Chitwan for further checkup and wanted my dad to go there from Kathmandu. Doctors referred to Hospitals of Kathmandu so they came here next day. Soon after they came various check ups were done and because of unknown reason there reports came late than expected period of time. We were really afraid what might happen now. We had already tested for covid-19 and fortunately results were negative. Still he was having continuous fever and cough. But soon his right part of the body like right legs, right hands were so weak that it was being hard for him to walk and eat as well as speak. Doctor said that physiotherapy can help so he started but time passed and no any improvement were seen. Everyone in the family were tensed. Nothing was working well. Business were shut down because of lock-down, uncles condition was getting worse, me and my sibling were at home since more than three months as colleges and schools were closed. Nothing was going good. Later report came and it was shocking for all of us. It was cancer. And soon they decided to go Delhi, India for further treatment- my dad, uncle and aunt.Despite the increasing cases of covid-19 and specially in India it was really a tough decision but getting scared and loosing life is really not an option. So we have to take risk sometime in hope that something good might happen. Somehow they manged tickets and went there. Currently they are in Delhi doing treatment. So this one of the most stressful period. During this period I also learned so many things. I always have been an introvert but I realized that we also need some social connection. Being around friend surely helps to uplift the mood though you don't like being with them all the time. I tried various recipes from You-tube and guess what they turned out to be good. So I decided to try painting as well and I soon realized it was not my cup of tea at all. Also I did various online courses on mental health and I am glad I did them. Learning about various things has always been my passion. And I am here trying my writing skills. I realized that various unexpected things happen. But we should have positive attitude within us to deal with those things. We have been so busy an we got free time to know our self in this lock-down period. So just explore thing and seeking for new things helps to please your soul and provide good vibes. It is really important to have balance in various things like work, family, relationship, etc. The time we got was really necessary to take a break from that tight schedule. I spend my day with family, talked about childhood of my parents, listened their stupid jokes, helped my siblings, tried things that I never could because of lack of time then. Sometime there were arguments but there were care and love hidden inside it. The bond with family became much more stronger though there were some arguments and all. We created special moments that will never be forgotten for rest of our lives. The unity and support was the most required thing because being lonely and not trying anything new can be really dangerous for my soul at least. So all those are my experience and opinion about the quarantine. There were good times, there were bad times. There were moments where all family used to sit in drawing room and laugh, forget everything that was happening. There were also moments where everything and everyone seemed to be blanked. There were time where I was learning new things and there were times when I was struggling with some old things. But what i think important is that I learned how to cope with all those things, how precious are the things that I used to take it for granted.I have learned to appreciate and also what i have learned is gratitude. Bad things will happen in life but what I believe is being positive is important. If you have any problem, seek help, try to trust your loved ones, believe in yourself, keep your faith in god and carry what you are doing if you believe that the things you know, is not harming yourself and others as well. Peace of mind, a good and correct information, patience, love, self-respect and hard-work are most powerful tools of life that I believe I sensed or we can say learned in this quarantine period. Now I am ready to tackle any problem with a smile though I would panic sometime and that would be completely okay cause I know I have people by my side and they always will be.
All over the world, the journey of a woman's life is predetermined by the patriarchal society we live in – it's not an opinion, but a fact. This restricted and claustrophobic journey is sadly amplified for those girls who are born in regular, unassuming and conventional families in developing countries like India. Although I was not born to conservative parents, their parents were very traditional. So, when I was born, a second daughter, my mother was subjected to a lot of emotional abuse from both of my grandparents. Not a great thing to learn when growing up, however, it does explain why I was never as close to my grandparents as my older sister and younger brother were. I don't know how this affected my subconscious?! Perhaps, me being fiercely independent from a very young age and a bit of a rebel would be a measured behavioural outcome of the knowledge that I had of how (un)loved and (un)wanted I was by my grandparents! Anyhow, getting to the crux of the story, I have always lived my life on my terms “unapologetically”, but never used this term till it was made trendy by millennials. I worked from the age of 16, got my Bachelor's degree, left my country to pursue my Masters (1000s miles away from my home) in pursuit of freedom and independence when a lot of my peers were getting married. I got a job, lived on my own, fell in love and married to a “gora / gringo” (it wasn't a done thing at the time in my home country). All of these things were challenges in their own right, but I was never phased by them. Also, I love a good challenge, a classic trait of a rebel! I must add here, my parents and siblings always supported me at the end and stood by my decisions and even, celebrated them with me. As a child, I always dreamt of travelling the world, and I got to do that a lot with my loving partner-in-crime, my husband. However, as expected from a woman, once you're married with a job and a house, the prospect of producing an offspring was lingering over my head. Now, this expectation, isn't just limited to females from certain conventional families, it's an expectation from females, full stop. Apparently, a desire to procreate should come naturally to women…only I didn't feel that way. It took me weeks to gather courage to tell my husband that I didn't feel the need to leave a legacy behind – a child. I wasn't worried about telling him that I didn't want to use my female reproduction super powers (we share an open and transparent relationship), but what worried me was, what if he felt differently – could I bear to lose my best friend? We went to our favourite Italian restaurant and after a few glasses of wine (of course) I told him that I didn't want to be a parent, but, instead, I wanted to see the world with him! He listened to me patiently and, he replied, to my surprise, that he shared the same feelings, but didn't know how to say it. Well, needless to say I was greatly relieved! However, soon after I felt relieved, the thought of telling our parents about our decision took over and that, seemed like a huge mountain to climb. Remember, I said expectations! It's not “normal” for people to decide not to procreate – human instinct and all that. It was easy for me to tell my mother, as I tell her pretty much everything, but to tell my in-laws of our decision was very daunting. My mother took the news beautifully, as always, she supported my decision and said “as long as you both are happy, that's all it matters”. Eventually, we told our in-laws and although, it was far from easy, and it took them some time to come around our decision, they accepted it. The declaration of our decision to not procreate and overburden the planet which is already brimming with children, didn't limit to our family and friends, it's something we have to do on a regular basis by answering questions, “so, do you have children / when are you planning to have a little one / when are you going to start a family?”, to extended relatives, friends' families, neighbours, my hairdresser, my local café owner, strangers…the list is endless. I have been tempted at times to say “we've tried but to no avail” – you see, you get sympathy to that response, but not when you say you've chosen not to have a child – you get judged for it and are even called “selfish”. So, here are the questions I contemplate – why is it “normal” to want to have kids and not acceptable to choose not to? Also, why do we have to conform to the society and live our lives dictated by it? My husband and I chose, NOT to conform – we couldn't be happier and are living fulfilled lives. Years ago, I came across a very powerful saying that I always go back to when I am feeling lost and unsure - “If Not Now, When? If Not Me, Who?” I keep reminding myself not to worry about what others think and I continue to make life choices that I feel are right for me and I do that unapologetically.
UNLEASHING A BlBLICAL PERSPECTIVE TO JUSTIFY WHY POVERTY CONTINUES TO DEVOUR AFRICA. Are we evolving if we are still unable to break the vicious cycle of poverty that is prevalent in our society and is afflicting many households because of the obsolete values we still attach to money? Money is a is a high-pitched, and hypothetical statement that has hit the most Christianised continent for time immemorial. itʼs an economically subversive tenet that has for countless years blindfolded the African race, it has disempowered, and incapacitated our cognitive ability to critically refocus on building systems that would spur an economic transformation of our society. Instead, our minds are programmed to think in a manner that maintains us at a status-quo in every aspect of our lives. When you trace the problems that have continued to overwhelm and marginalize our society, you will realize that they are deep rooted in biblical disorientation, and the belief that money is evil bound. This biblical teaching in its inexplicit design and ambiguous nature has been a source of confusion to many believers who cogitate that any attempt to pursue wealth would ensnare one into sin and affect their spiritual destiny. Because the docile congregants in various places of worship were made to think that having passion for wealth would not qualify them for eternal life. This is an inherent societal norm encased in traditional doctrines of our descendants(fore parents)who were subverted and conditioned by their perpetrators to assimilate all their teachings many years ago during the juvenile stages of the 19th century when they were enslaved and terrifically wailed under the tyranny of their sadistic masters and rulers. Since then, Africa has never enjoyed its own space because someoneʼs ideologies, and hidden agendas conquered our mindsets. We are still twisted together, and scaffolded into their powerful influence, and control systems; In this digitalized century, we ought to fashion our moral values, and reconfigure our minds to download ideas that will catalyze change,and improve our livelihood. We need to launch a moral-based campaign to renounce all the highlighted literature that has for several decades affected our moral values, and financial perspectives. We need to project newly refined thoughts capable of redirecting, and redefining the future of our continent. Africa needs money, Africa needs power, Africa needs technology, Africa needs autonomy to self-perpetuate; but money anchors the later, it architects this triad of. The resonating question that puzzles us now is how best could Africa build and boost its economic base ? (This question is open to each one of us, it doesnʼt only require the perceptual inputs of economic analysts or policy makers in the field of economy, but rather everyone is given a platform to share their insight). However, lʼm strongly convinced that many of us will agree with the idea that we can remedy the challenges and evolve our economy through gross investment. My emphasis is that if we donʼt have money we shanʼt get power, and without power we shall always be dehumanized, and our rights shall be infringed on in perpetuity by our oppressors; if we canʼt stand and control how we co-evolve with our society, this will always give ground to the influx, and penetration of the aliens who have mastered the chauvinistic skills of degrading humanity. It will create a platform to facilitate their oppressive, and ridiculous interventions in Africa. Ultimately, we shanʼt experience a blossom of our expectations to restore the status Africa deserves and of which it was naturally designed to assume. I stress that in the current *e-world*our enemies use a trifold of baits to oppress and impose their dominion over our spatial territory; they use money, power, and technology but money is on their top priority list to impose their control systems; Nothing is incorrigible, we can forthrightly correct what overshadowed our ancestors and denied them the opportunity to predict that such literature would climax by belittling, blackmailing, and oppressing our motherland. Letʼs use the resources we can currently harness, and invest in business; get out of your penniless comfort zone, get a small loan, and kickstart a business, seek expert knowledge on how to grow, create more network, boost your productivity, improve your livelihood, break the dependence systems that confine our society under oppression, and build the capacity of your community to self-perpetuate! When they ask you tell them; Robert Ssekolya was the name that African nature baptised me upon flashing out of my mother's womb. For more info; WhatsApp: +256705862902 (with business account).
I've been wondering why I've been feeling like I've been making less progress lately and I think it's because I hopped back onto the dating sites again. After I broke off the engagement with Mark, I promised myself I would try to find myself and I was making some progress but then it's like I went back to my old bad habits. I felt guilty when my therapist was telling me the other day how proud she was of me because I wasn't dating and I was really focusing on what made me happy. I didn't have the heart to tell her that she was wrong. I thought I could start dating again without feeling like I used to; like I needed validation from these guys I dated but it's still happening. I started dating one guy that showed some red flags in the beginning but I went out with him because I thought he deserved a chance. The date wasn't amazing but I decided I would see him again. Since that date, he was all over the place communicating with me and said he was going to hang out with me on a particular day and then never followed through. My best friend didn't have the best feeling about him. He didn't think he was necessarily a bad person but he didn't think he was compatible with me. Despite all of this, I decided to go on a second date with him. We went on this extreme hike to Hubbard Park's castle and we had a great time. We laughed, talked, drank a little and kissed a whole lot. When I got home, I fell apart. Part of it was because I skipped taking a pill but another part of it was because my anxiety was sky rocketing over thinking he wouldn't continue to like me or accept all of my flaws. These feelings ruined the rest of the night. I want to stop feeling that way. I need to gain some self-love and self-confidence before I put myself back into the dating world. I'm not doing myself any favors dating too early. I'm just undoing the progress I've been making and I risk hurting people that I date. I think I'm going to break it off with him before it gets more serious. Ever since I started dating, he's all I've been thinking about even though I don't even know if I like him that much! I check my phone constantly and him paying attention controls how I feel. I need to break it off so I can finally focus on me again. I need to do this for myself. I need to break the cycle for real now.
The Bethlem hospital for the mentally insane has existed since the year 1244. Originally an alms house for Holy Land Crusaders, it became a dumping ground for the incurably insane. The bestial care became public entertainment in the Victorian era, conditions so horrendous that it earned the nickname of ‘Bedlam'. Available in paperback on on Kindle.
At a very young age, my mother trained me to write short, meaningful notes on the blank side of a greeting card. I knew Christmas was coming whenever she'd buy a stack of bright and colorful cards, to send to our relatives in the United States. When I was a teenager in the ‘90s, pen pal writing became one of my favorite hobbies. This happened before the advent of the internet. My family never had a surplus of cash to afford trips or vacations to faraway places. I've only heard about famous tourist spots and destinations from books I've read, or stories told by other people. So I yearned to learn more about different places and cultures. I joined a letter writing exchange program when I was a high school sophomore, and was matched with a girl in Tempe, Arizona, who was a year my junior. I also had a friend whose family migrated to Calgary, Alberta, Canada, and she kept me up-to-date about her new life and surroundings. I always had a stash of stationery and stamps, fancy ballpoint pens and stickers. In addition to that, I would save my allowance so I can afford birthday and Christmas cards for my pen pals. I was careful and meticulous when it comes to selecting a suitable greeting card. I looked for anything that's cute and strikingly colorful. I also loved cartoon characters. And I can't help but feel that my efforts were rewarded, because I can't recall a birthday or a holiday passing by without getting at least a couple of cards. I fondly remember one that my friend from Calgary sent – it was huge, and showcased different breeds of dogs. I have also received cards with angels and religious images, birds, flowers, and even those using recycled paper. A dear cousin living in California sent an Easter card with a caricature of a white rabbit carrying a basket of eggs. Then something totally unexpected happened that disrupted my education. I was diagnosed with depression, which later on escalated to bipolar disorder. I had to leave high school in the middle of my junior year. Gradually, the phone stopped ringing. I lost contact with nearly all of my friends. I felt like I was left out from all the events that you're supposed to look forward to for the rest of high school – the prom, the senior year retreat, taking college entrance exams, and of course, graduation. I went through probably the darkest period of my life. Still, I was grateful because there were a lot of letters and cards that continued to pour in for me. Keeping up a correspondence with my friends made those happy days, which were rare, even brighter, and sustained me when bad days came. Eventually, I recovered from my ordeal, finished school through distance learning, and attained a Career Diploma. My mother bought a computer for our family, and I spent hours and hours tinkering with it, surfing online, and honing my writing skills. I dove into freelance writing, and took in one assignment after another for several years. And yet, I realized I only made a paltry sum from the tasks and assignments I was getting. I was dependent on my mother for money for my maintenance medication to keep my moods stable, and they weren't exactly cheap. My sister finished college and was employed. I was afraid to end up in mid-life with hardly any savings to my name. So I realized I need to figure out a way to earn more. Coincidentally, I heard a business advice over the radio, for people with artistic talents to capitalize on their skills and start designing their own line of greeting cards, and then sell them for a profit. I knew I was a decent artist and was largely self-taught, so I thought I'd give it a try. With barely USD10 in hand, I bought my first set of materials, which consisted of packs of cardstock and colored paper. I created a couple of templates for my greeting cards. I expanded my product line to include gift tags and bookmarks. I was able to come up with a prototype pattern for a unique product, which I dubbed The Gift Card. Inside it, one can insert several billfolds of cash, gift certificates or gift checks, discount coupons, concert tickets, and even movie passes, and give it to the intended recipient. I struck a nerve in an underserved card market – people who worked corporate jobs who were generous enough to give cash to their godchildren during Christmas. I was even able to entice my relatives abroad. For three consecutive years, my aunt in Glendale placed an order for a total of 50 bookmarks, while a cousin in San Diego sent me USD100 for 100 pieces of gift tags. While it might seem like email, voice and video calls, and SMS are the most preferred methods of communicating these days, a lot of people still appreciate a hand-written note, thoughtfully scribbled on a greeting card or gift tag, giving them their timeless appeal. And for someone like me, who once had concerns about her future, making a profit from greeting cards gave me a slice of that feeling of self-reliance and independence.