At break of another blessed day, No matter how you might feel, Bird song and bright light, I pray, You shall awake, your heart shall heal. My heart beats in gratitude fervently, For my soul is reminded it has you: You offer succour and love patiently, Remind me of many blessings anew. Even in abysmal depths of despair And indescribable moments of fear, Your voice knows how me to repair, How to soothe me, call me “dear”. Dawn brings the lightness of being, For soon, I know, I shall you be seeing.

Once upon a time, in a small town nestled in the heart of a beautiful country, there was an unexpected turn of events. The town, which was once thriving with economic prosperity, found itself facing a severe economic decline. The main industry that sustained the town's livelihood had collapsed, leaving a trail of financial despair in its wake. As the economic decline took hold, the consequences began to ripple through the community. Families struggled to make ends meet, businesses closed their doors, and unemployment soared. The once-vibrant streets now seemed empty and desolate, filled with a palpable sense of hopelessness. The social fabric of the town began to fray. People grew frustrated, and tensions rose among neighbors. The lack of opportunities and financial strain created a sense of despair, leading to increased crime and social unrest. It seemed as though the town was mired in a never-ending cycle of problems, and the future looked bleak. The political leaders of the town recognized the gravity of the situation and realized that they needed to take immediate action. They came together, setting aside their differences and personal agendas, to find a solution that would uplift the community. They devised a comprehensive plan that focused on rebuilding the economy, fostering social cohesion, and restoring hope. The first step they took was to invest in infrastructure projects that would create jobs and stimulate economic growth. They rebuilt crumbling roads, renovated public spaces, and initiated construction projects that provided employment opportunities for the townspeople. The infusion of activity brought a renewed sense of purpose and optimism to the community. Simultaneously, the political leaders implemented social programs aimed at bridging the gap between different segments of society. They organized community events, where people from all walks of life could come together, share their stories, and find common ground. These initiatives fostered a sense of unity and reminded the townspeople that they were all in this together. But the true turning point came when the leaders focused on education and skills development. They established vocational training centers and educational scholarships to empower the youth with the tools they needed to succeed. The town's young minds, once burdened by the weight of economic decline, now saw a glimmer of hope for a brighter future. As time went by, the town began to transform. The economy gradually revived, new businesses emerged, and the streets once again bustled with activity. The social fabric, once frayed, was now tightly woven with bonds of compassion and understanding. The success of the town's revival became a symbol of hope and inspiration for other communities facing similar challenges. People from far and wide flocked to witness the remarkable transformation and learn from the town's journey of resilience. The story of this small town serves as a testament to the incredible power of unity, compassion, and determined leadership. It reminds us that even in the face of adversity, we can overcome our struggles and emerge stronger than ever before. It shows that with the right vision and collective effort, we can build a brighter future, no matter how dark the present may seem. In the end, the town's tale of economic decline, social and political problems, and failures became a story of triumph—a story that inspired people to believe in their own potential and work together to create a better tomorrow.

GANGADHARA RAO IRLAPATI's I'm, An unfortunate Indian scientist subjected to negligence,racism,discrimination despite have done over a 1000 researches&studies.But all my researches were ignored&darkned. You can get my researches either by searching my name GANGADHARA RAO IRLAPATI in all websites or by sending your email to my email id girlapati@aol.com. I am now making my life's last journey with hopelessness and sickness (severe medical complications)and disregard&despair. Under the aforesaid circumstances, I urge the world scientists that kindly publicize&recognize me as the Originator of Global Monsoon Time Scales&National Geoscope Projects by making references in your research papers&by postings on social media. GANGADHARA RAO IRLAPATI

OF DESPAIR, OF HOPE You accused me of being fragile. You said I'd lost my mojo as once; I wouldn't let tears get wasted even through the hell that's the lachrymator. I smiled in mockery of that. You know nothing about me, I'd said. But hey, (with a whisper) I've had sleepless nights dwelling on those. Though I'd want to argue, you're right. And who wouldn't be after the sort of harsh reality I'd faced lately? I know you want to hear me please you with the fact of the matter. Worry no more I'm good to that: It was dark, cold and without form. Ugly. Eerie. I love solitude but with gestures so unkind; I doubt I'd root for it this time. I really feared for myself. It was good voices were aplenty outside as it meant I could easily be gotten across to if I'd chosen to end it! From hurting, my eyes were crimson red and waning. For a moment, I wanted the earth to open up and swallow me. It didn't feel like there was a way back in for me. I sensed my life departing with the pace of an absconding criminal. In the dark of the room, I reached for my phone not without a fumble. I gazed at her…the beauty that was my cousin. It was like a lover consciously admiring their mate. The tears were well pronounced. The ground would testify. I shook my head, partially muttering the words, “Rest in Peace”. I had known her formally one and a half years before this. That Christmas, she returned and demanded some family bonding moments. Being resident in a city hundred miles away from mine, it meant we were truly catching up on lost times. She was the prettiest thing and her smile held the key to unlocking treasures. Oh, you didn't have to go! I wished. I cursed. Then the door jarred with a bang on the wall. It was violent! Like lightening. I paused and then tried to recreate an atmosphere. “Ogbeni wetin dey do you? I bin hear you dey sob from outside”. He asked with a show of emotion. It was vernacular; the sort prevalent in this part of the world. It translated thus: Brother, what's the matter with you? I heard you sobbing from outside. I pretended. Man up I tried. He wouldn't be fooled. I slowly but steadily wiped tears off my face and blew mucus into the handkerchief. I wore a feigned smile, even rubbing my right eye as though it itched. I wanted to escape. He was smart and persistent. “Forget that thing joor! I know say something dey make you cry”. He pressed on as would a detective. That was my roommate, Harry. And though his command of the English Language was of appreciable heights, he had chosen to stay faithful to Pidgin. It enthused me. I too was a student in its school. “Guy, that my cousin don kpai o”. I responded with a cold harmless hiss. We'd talked about her once. They both were die-hard Arsenal fans! “Jeez! What the f**k!” I nodded cupping my head in my hands. “But what happened?” Harry was a brother. I'd looked at him and seen kindness. Empathy. Everything including little details mattered but this made him teary in an instant. I could tell his ears were pricked to get told things. He got to hear how my beautiful cousin, a proud mother of one and an astute fan of Arsenal lost her life to childbirth. Again, those tears were rolling and freely too. Words were gone and my voice had taken a hit. But despite the wrench in the works, he heard me mutter something like, “why does it happen only to the good ones?” It was a question but rhetorical. In between sobriety and the last drop of tears I'd wiped, he answered. In true fashion, I nodded. The good die young and in this world of mindless ills, the good always gets dealt with the wrongs of others. Under the circumstance, I affirmed. I would argue about that any other time. Now, with his slightly soft palm on my left shoulder, he'd thought. “God shall give you and the family the fortitude to bear this and her soul, eternal rest I pray.” Literature wasn't his strongest point but this sure sounded sweet and assured. I thanked him. I told him I knew already. I didn't mean to undermine his effort. “Whatever happens, you go lemme know na abi” That was pidgin. “Sure! Why not” It was like me promising with an oath. For a moment after the transformation, I sat trying to create a picture of life. I understood one thing: Regardless of how long a man lives here, only two moments mattered: The birth and the death. For life itself was fleet-footed. Here today and six feet under the ground tomorrow. It wasn't worth the hassle or so I'd thought. It wants us to live upright and stay fair so long as breathe remained. That way, when death which is life's cousin comes knocking, we'd gladly open without having to use the peephole. And oh, Harry had gone to see a soccer game between Arsenal and Bayern Munich- that too was death! Meanwhile, I'd stripped bare to shower. A new lease of life. END