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It was sunny and hot. Not just hot, it was extremely hot. Sun was literally roasting me and everything and everyone around me. Well, what else could I expect from Africa? My team and I drove by car, taking our time. We were driving through a local village. Everyone stared at us as if we were aliens. Especially children. I took a pictures of old cracked houses, half-naked toddlers and older kids, which smiled and played despite their suffering. It was so hurting and at the same time fabulous… After a few shots, we stopped. I got the things we brought to the citizens of here out of the trunk. The children started sprinting towards us. I laughed, and gave them toys and candies. Not much later their parents came, and we provided them with fresh water, flour, sugar, milk, first aid-kits and other necessary things. They thanked us, they were delighted, and I took pictures again. Someone even began crying. We were sobbing too. Afterwards, the guys from my team played football with the children. I preferred to take a walk and make some shots. I wandered and wandered until I met a boy, sitting lonely and somehow sad, like the only flower on the field. He was about 5 years old. «Hey, little kid» I said. Fortunately, I was one of those in my team who knew their language. He did not answer. Instead, he looked at me with his big intense eyes, full of pain and simultaneously love. «Do you… do you understand me?» I asked. He nodded. «Why are you not playing with other kids? And… Where are your toys or… candies?.. Wait, did you even get some?». «No» he said quietly. His voice was gentle as little cockle bells. «Where can I get them here?». «Me and my friends made a gift for your people. You didn't know? I thought all people who knew said to entire village». «No. I was here. But I saw that auntie Uzuri, our neighbor, ran in that way. Is it why she ran away?». «I guess». «I see» he said, then he looked far away. «Aren't you sad?». «Should I be sad?» he smiled weakly. «If I were you, I would be». «I am not». «That's good» I was glad. «Weren't you curious why that aunt ran? You did not ask?». «No» he answered sadly. He was silent for a while, then whispered: «My sister is very sick. Now she is sleeping, that is why I decided to go outside and breathe some air». «Pity…». How terrible it was! What was worse, we had nothing to gift them with. I should ask some stuff from my team. Later. Then I recalled something. I had lollipops in my pocket! My little niece gave me them before our fly. Thank you, niece. «Here, take it. It is not much but…» I got out two candies. At that moment, his smile was almost ear-to-ear. He took them with his thin little hands, and said «Thank you!..» He took both candies, and opened them. Then he offered me one. «Take it» he said. «What is it for?» I giggled. «For your kindness». These words melted my heart. He continued holding candy, and I took the picture of this ineffable moment. «Keep it» I said then. «Give it to your sister». I cuddled the most softhearted person I ever met and left him with words «I'll be back soon!» Tomorrow other volunteers came. We… well, I called them because of that one boy. I ran up to his house and said to him «Come on, there are medicines for your sis, water and food». He was over the moon and was jumping for joy. After few days, we travelled to another village and continued volunteering. I still ponder about that boy and his action a lot. As a photographer, I saw a million of things which wondered me, however this time it was something more than just «amazing». Indescribable. He lives in situation not suitable for humans, but did not lost his humanity.
Since my childhood I have had a speech impediment, a stutter. Words make me choke as if there is a cork in my throat. It's a fight I wage every day; the fight against the flesh. School was a nightmare. Children would copy me, their giggling like the jabs of a blade. I would just sit in corners wanting to die or at least vanish into thin air. Writing was my way of escape, I turned to it to cease the noises running through my head. Literature became my universe, my refuge where everybody was somebody but me, where characters turned into heroes and heroines or brave hearted when I was not even a brave hearted. I took all my rage and aggression out on the paper and creating fictional worlds where I was in control. I was fortunate to walk away and go to the park one day on a sunny afternoon. It was simple and silent from the noise and chaos of school. While sitting on a bench deep in thoughts, I saw a young boy who was having problem to express himself with his mum. He was pointing at our maps and gesticulating in the manner that is typical of an insistent child when he is angry; his face was red. Without exaggeration, it was like a reflection of something that would be created much later. In particular, I realized how the boy's mother answered him with kindness and warmth of her look filled with compassion. The boy was not being shunned or laughed at, or that his worth has been diminished due to his inability to talk. Just pure acceptance! There was a change in my perception as to how I viewed my stammer, in that, for the first time I did not necessarily view my stammer as a bad thing but, rather, as a way of speaking that is entirely unique. I went near the boy being very shy at first. Then gradually we tend to communicate with the help of gestures and smiling. It was embarrassing but at the same time it was liberating. I admit I never saw myself like the others saw me, a boy stammering and lost, but in that moment I perceived that the stammer was not the essence of my being. He later became my closest buddy in high school. For hours we sat together, not saying a word to one another. His acceptance enabled me to go out into the world with a different attitude all together. Even the mocking still occurred but it did not take on the same sharp bite as before. But I had, for the first time in forever, spoken as a person and not a victim; I had found myself in my heart that was pounding underneath my stammer. While we were growing up, we were also growing our friendship. I recall having discussed the depth of our speech situation and having made a point about there being so many other children in the world for whom things could be even worse. This is the time when the idea germ was sown. We wish to leave a place, a refuge for children like us. A place that they will not be the only ones going through it, a place that they can be comfortable being themselves and a place where they can find their purpose. Our organization began small, working in nearby schools as delivering workshops regarding speech and communication. It was not an easy journey but having people and situations that you both faced build your fighting spirit. Each child who learnt to smile and accept himself/herself was a reinforcement to the mission and determination. Today, we have an organization that symbolizes hope to the people. It is important to acknowledge our organization is involved in designing the therapy, education and support programs. Hence we have developed a community where the children will be able to grow despite impediments in speaking. And most importantly, we've proved to the entire world that the ‘stuttering' is not a disability, but the yet to be explored potential. Our experience has been one of the most inspiring, where people protected their friends until the last moments and learn how to go on notwithstanding all difficulties. Now that I look back, I only understand that once there was a boy who owed his voice, but today he has an opportunity to guide people who are unable to find theirs.
Silence… A woman sleeps soundly peacefully in her dream house. She loved her life: she lived happily with her beloved husband and raised wonderful children. Suddenly, the tranquility shattered. A phone call. Half asleep, the woman stood up. For a second her heart skipped a beat, as if it sensed something was wrong. But she brushed aside her doubts. Silence… The surprisingly calm and peaceful atmosphere is broken by a loud cry. Her husband and son run up to her in bewilderment. Silence. Again. But this silence is different: there is no peace in it. Soon there will be crying again, and it will remain in this house for many years. Who would have thought that this end is actually a new beginning, that this crying is the first step towards stopping other people's mourning? Silence… The world has lost another young beautiful girl, and the parents have lost their only daughter that day. 128 mothers felt the same pain as that woman that day. Another 128 families were stabbed in the back by their loved ones. Time has stopped. Happy moments with her daughter kept flying in front of mother's eyes. She felt deep sadness, rage towards her son-in-law, and guilt for letting her daughter die; emotions were eating her up. Silence… Everyone fell asleep from powerlessness. And even sleep did not bring peace. Now, the woman was thinking about her future. But this time, she looked at it with an empty, hopeless gaze. Funeral… A cry was heard in the dead silence. Everyone immediately understood what kind of crying it was. The mother was in disbelief. “It wasn't supposed to be like this,” she repeated. It is the daughter who should bury her parents, and not the other way around. It wasn't supposed to happen. Gathering her emotions, she went to honor her mercilessly killed daughter. Silence… Court. Sadness still filled the mother's heart. The family waited for this trial for more than 4 months. The trial was already a victory. The trial was a ray of hope that justice would prevail and the killer would be punished as he deserved. An influential rich man could not hush up the matter with bribes. “It is indeed a victory,” she thought. Thanks to the wide publicity of the case, the mother felt not only the support of the public, but also an obligation to remain strong for the sake of her daughter and other women subjected to domestic violence. The judge asked the court to stand up. Silence… Court. It has already lasted 20 days. Looking at the imperturbable face of her daughter's husband and her killer, the woman felt a surge of rage. She wanted to bring him the same pain that he brought to her daughter and the whole family. The rage turned into despondency. It seemed that all the jurors and the judge had already received their bribes, so the killer sat smugly. But looking into the eyes of one of the jurors, the woman realized that the efforts made to conduct this trial were not in vain. On the same day, the president signed the law, popularly named after her daughter. It is designed to protect women and children from domestic violence. For a second the woman thought about the absurdity of the situation. A person had to die painfully for a law to be passed to criminalize beatings, for support centers against domestic violence to operate, for inducement to suicide to be criminally punished, and even for the introduction of criminal liability for sexual harassment of children. The woman felt anger towards the tyrants and sympathy for the victims. But these feelings quickly gave way to mental pain. Only one question was in her head: “Why my daughter?” The woman became pensive and there was silence… Silence was only in her head. A wave of hope swept across the country. The only thing that bothered people was that the trial was not over. Silence… Court… Jury… Judge… Killer… Media… Everything seemed too surreal. It seemed to the woman that she was not in that room. She wished this was a dream. For 2 months now, the whole country has been discussing the life of her daughter. Some even blamed her daughter for what happened. Tears welled up in her eyes. A couple of minutes later, the judge announced a 24-year sentence for the killer (there were cases when wife killers were given only 1.5 years). The country rejoiced. But a storm raged in the woman's heart. All emotions were mixed. This is a victory and a defeat at the same time. This is joy, but at the same time, sadness. Silence… There are different emotions hanging in the air. But most importantly, justice to some extent triumphed. A new era of the country's development has begun. The killers realized that they would be punished for what they had done, and the victims would stop keeping silent about it. People felt safe. However, the grief of the family of the deceased girl cannot be expressed in words. This time, the silence was interrupted by the carefree laughter of children and the silent smile of a woman, satisfied with her life without a tyrant.
Plan: Introduction: The Origin of Life Main section: Plant kingdom Animal world Microorganisms Summary: I am a part of nature There are different opinions about the origin of life. In the divine books, it is stated that living creatures were created by the Supreme Creator in a certain time and place based on a certain plan. It is written in the Qur'an that the world was created in 6 days. Irish archbishop Asher calculated that the world was created in October 4004 BC. According to creationism, life arose once as a result of a supernatural event and has remained unchanged ever since. Qad. According to the theories that appeared in China, Rome, and Babylon, life "came into existence spontaneously (spontaneously) from the things that exist in nature. The Greek philosopher Empedocles (490-430 BC) believed that life is from air, earth, fire and water; Democritus ( 460-370 BC) argued that life came from clay; Thales (625-547 BC) suggested that plants and animals arose from clay. The origin of the plant corresponds to the first development periods of life on earth. During the Archaean era (3 billion years ago), organisms similar to blue-green algae (cyanobacteria) appeared. True algae are thought to have appeared in the Proterozoic era, and green and red algae in the early Paleozoic. It is possible that the first higher plants - rhyniophytes - originated at the border between the Proterozoic and Paleozoic periods. The plant is of great importance in the life of all living organisms on earth. Life of animals and people cannot be imagined without plants. A plant with only green chlorophyll collects sunlight energy by synthesizing organic compounds from inorganic substances. At the same time, a plant takes S02 gas from the atmosphere and releases oxygen into the atmosphere, which is necessary for the respiration of almost all living organisms. In this way, the green plant maintains the constant composition of the atmosphere. Plants are the basis of the food chain as producers of organic matter. Оne of the major divisions in the organic world system. It is estimated that animals appeared in the ocean water 1-1.5 billion years ago in the form of microscopic, chlorophyll-free amoeba-like protozoa. The oldest fossils of animals are no more than 0.8 billion years old. The first fossils of multicellular animals - gastropods, worms, benthic arthropods can be found from the last Cambrian layers (690-570 million years ago). Animals are heterotrophic organisms, that is, they feed on ready-made organic matter. Due to active metabolism in animals, their growth is limited. In the process of evolution, the formation of the functional system of various organs: muscles, subtraction, respiration, blood circulation, reproductive and nervous systems is considered one of the most important characteristics characteristic of animals. Animal cells differ from plants in having a hard cellulose shell. However, the difference between animals and plants is relative. A microscopic organism that can appear as a single cell or a colony of cells. Microorganisms include bacteria, actinomycetes, yeasts, viruses, molds, microscopic algae, and others. Bacteria are a large group of single-celled microorganisms. Viruses (Latin: virus - poison) are microorganisms that multiply only in living cells and cause infectious diseases in plants, animals and humans. In the past, the term "viruses" was used to refer to various disease-causing agents, especially unknown agents. After the French scientist L. Pasteur proved the role of bacteria in the origin of several diseases, the concept of viruses began to be used as a synonym of the word "microbe". An important difference between these two groups of disease-causing agents, i.e., bacteria and viruses, was established by the Russian scientist D.I. Ivanovsky (1892) and later others when they proved that tobacco mosaic and ungulate proteins pass through a bacterial filter. Nature is an existence that exists both before the appearance of man and with the participation of man. In general, this is the world, man, universe; micromacromegaworlds; inanimate and animate. In the narrow sense, it is an object studied by natural sciences. Nature is subject to laws independent of people and society. Man is a part of nature. Man cannot change the laws of nature, he can only master the elements and parts of nature using the laws. The concept of nature is also considered as a set of natural conditions for the existence of human society. Humans work to live, and work (eg, farming, construction, industry), brain activity, and others change some aspects of nature. Material wealth created by a person, that is, in the process of social labor, is conditionally called "second nature". For example, 92 chemical elements from hydrogen to uranium are naturally occurring, and those discovered later are artificial. All man-made synthetic chemical compounds, man-made atomic and nuclear energies are "second nature".
Labour Day celebrates the achievements of workers and the labor movement. It honors their contributions to society and advocates for workers' rights and fair labor practices.
The main visiting card of Muynak in Karakalpakstan is, of course, the old ship port, where the ship graveyard is located. During the World War II, soldiers from all over Uzbekistan came to this port across the Amu Darya River, and from there they boarded ships and headed to the city of Aralsk in Kazakhstan, from where they were transported to the front by trains and other means of transport. In this old harbor there is a monument, the top of which points towards the sky. Today the monument is considered a monument to the sea and port, but it was originally built to commemorate the soldiers who died in World War II and was called the Flying Star. The residents of Muynak remember very well the impressive event that led to the construction of this monument. This story is like this: In 1941, when the war began, a father and his only son from the same house in Muynok were called to the front. Aksary mother was left at home alone. Soon a black letter arrived from the front saying that father had died. But after the son left, there was no news. There was no one who said they saw or knew. The war is over. Some of those who went to the front are disabled, some return healthy. It is reported that those who did not return died somewhere in the war. However, there was no news about Aksary's son. The mother waited for mail every day, every day she went out to meet the incoming ship. However, there was no news about her only son. Since the end of the war, the mother made it a habit to come to this port every day and sit for hours on the road along which her son was traveling. Years passed. By the mid-1970s, the sea began to recede and the port had to be moved. The mother who had been waiting for her son in this place for over 30 years screams “don't move the port.” “My son went to war by this sea route. If it comes, it will come with this sea,” he shouted to those who wanted to move the port. “Sister, there will be no more sea. The ships don't sail. “If your child is coming, he will come by car or plane, not by sea,” they said. “No, you don't understand. My child is still small. Only through this sea route can he find his home. He doesn't know any other land besides Muynak; he has only been to the sea. If my child comes, it will only be by sea. Otherwise, how will he find a home?..." - In 1978, when I was going to study in Almaty, I last saw Mother Aksary going to this port. “I graduated in 1983, but I didn't see this woman then,” recalled Khanimay from Muynak. A man named Abdikerim Tleuov, who worked for 28 years as the second secretary of the Muynak district committee, was deeply touched by the fate of the mother, who had been waiting for her son for 40 years, and put forward the idea of creating the Flying Star Memorial in memory of the soldiers who died in the war. Previously, this monument had the inscription “1941-1945” with five stars on top. The Ship Graveyard is located here. 12 old ships indicate that there was once a sea on this site. Yesimkan Kanaatov, Nukus city, Karakalpakstan, Uzbekistan
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“You got this. It's just a walk,” I told myself as I stared at the mirror in my room. It had been so long since I left my house that I forgot how to dress nicely. I had finally chosen my outfit for the day after trying out my whole closet. I closed my eyes and tried to find any positivity but nothing. My shaking legs began walking out of the room while I checked if I forgot anything. “My mask!” I exclaimed. Silly me! We've been in a pandemic for six months but this was my first time wearing a mask. “This is uncomfortable. How can I breathe?” I asked. I readjust my mask to make it more comfortable. Attempt failed. “Let's try this again,” I mumbled. “You got this. It's just a walk,” I told myself as I stared at the mirror in my room. I checked my fit and decided not to change it again since I'd have to look through the piles of clothes. My shaking left leg lifted off the ground and slowly stepped forward. Then it was my right leg's turn. It was surprisingly easier than my left's. I continued my journey and was delighted to find that it was getting easier with every step. “I actually got this,” I chuckled. I said it too early. Well, it was easy until I had to face the most daunting task: opening the front door. My trembling right hand reached inside my left pocket and slowly grabbed the key. I proceeded to insert the key into the keyhole but quickly pulled it back. “Come on, you can do this,” I tried to encourage myself. My right hand approached the keyhole again. But it quickly backed away. Then back towards the keyhole. After a few minutes and a million tries to get my right hand to unlock the door, I picked another option: my left hand. “You got this,” I motivated it before handing it the keys. Click! I did it! I opened the door; it felt magical. I took a deep breath and walked forward. The fresh air calmed my heart and blew away all my worries. It tempted me to take another step. Before I knew it, I was next to my mailbox. I looked around and I could feel a smile forming. I turned to my left and saw my neighbor playing with her grandkids in her yard. She told me she hadn't seen them in so long. She was so happy to finally meet them again. I can't help but smile a bit more. I then turned to my right and saw my other neighbor sitting on his rocking chair. Beside him was an empty rocking chair. The chair belonged to his late wife who passed due to the virus. However, he still made her tea every day. My smile slowly disappeared. I decided to walk to the nearby park. I saw that the park wasn't as crowded as it was. There would usually be kids running around the playground, while their parents were chatting on the nearby benches while also watching their kids. Grr! My stomach growled. I just realized that I was so busy deciding on my outfit that I missed breakfast. I decided to go to the hotdog stand. “Can I get a hotdog?” I ordered as I grabbed my wallet from my pocket. “Only that?” asked the owner. I saw that the owner needed money so I ordered a soda. “Ok, that will be four dollars,” the owner replied. “Here's ten dollars. Keep the change. Hard times?” I felt sorry for the owner. His eyes lit up as I handed him the money. “Ya, it used to be so crowded but now not so. Thanks for the tip,” explained the owner. “I'm sorry to hear that. Have a nice day,” I waved goodbye and sat on a bench. The hotdog was really good and the can of soda was very refreshing. Once I finished my small meal, I decided to jog home using the longer route. I jogged through a neighborhood filled with beautiful houses. However, it wasn't the houses that caught my attention; it was the people. On my right, there was a family playing together in their front yard. I guessed the parents were working from home. To my left, there was a truck filled with boxed meals. There were a few people handing out those meals to the community. They even offered me a meal but I politely refused because I knew someone else needed it more than I did. It suddenly started raining. I didn't know what to do. I was pretty far away from home. Luckily, the people who were handing out meals offered me a ride home. I would usually refuse to get in a vehicle with strangers but these people had good intentions and I didn't want to catch a cold. Several minutes later, I was home and thanked the kind people. I cleaned up and said, “What a new world.”
Revenge. Desire. Justice. Anger. Peace. War. Love. Freedom. Turmoil. Frustration. Positivity. We have all felt these things during some part of our lives. All of us have yearned for something more than what we have during one phase or another in our journey through life. And, sadly, this allows the encouragement for our mentality to slip into the trap of the world of comparison. Whether we have been hurt by the ones we love, faced with unfair trials, thrown into situations with traumatizing outcomes, or have risen to fight for what we believe in to take a stand. We have all been there. I see it. I feel it. I know it. I have been there too. There was a time in my life where someone I love betrayed me, which caused me to feel a new pain that I had yet to endure. Leaving my heart writhing in anguish and unleashing despair to run erratically through my mind. Blinded by my own pain, I couldn't comprehend the fairness in the situation. It was hard for me to put myself in their shoes, which is something that I always try to do, when I had given them everything I had in me. Quite frankly, it felt like pure torment watching them take everything we had and pour it into a new life without me in it. The betrayal of stolen time was in their hands, and they ran with it, which hurt me to feel like it had meant nothing. Time is the one thing that we cannot get back in this world and it is my love language. In my eyes, no time is ever wasted, even in this situation. I knew there had to be a lesson, but that didn't stop my heart from breaking TEMPORARILY. The hurt that I felt was only a temporary emotion and part of my growth journey. Through the pain, I was grateful for all the memories that we had despite the hurt they left behind. But, that's just it, it was BEHIND me. Not in front of me. My journey ahead was going to be far more beautiful than the one I was leaving behind and I knew that it was better to fill my heart with gratefulness than with bitterness. It was going to take me further on my journey to smile with the pain than to act on it. I know that it was the right thing to do. That as much as I wanted to argue or hold onto something that was no more, I didn't. I just let them go and welcomed a peace that I had never felt before. Our journey together had ended and I needed to put my trust in what the plans for my journey was instead of forcing something to remain that was only meant to be a life lesson. Peace does not come from acting in anger or pain with the intent of hurting another. Violence is not beautiful. I have learned in my walk through life, that it is best to let go and let God handle it. He knows what we need and his timing is perfect. Though it may not align with our undying desire to rush through life, it is His plan and His timing and it is to be trusted. It's hard not to jump on the social media bandwagon in today's world when hurt comes, but that's not the way to do it, because the one and only person that will always be with you in every aspect of your life is God. And he is Always listening. Tell him your hurt instead of the world. Grow from your pain. Use it as strength to fuel that fire burning deep within you and be who you were meant to be. It is not a sign of weakness, it's a sign of evolving into something more beautiful. The same thing goes in a justice seeking setting. The world can be a cruel place, and often, there are more negative things that occur in our times than positive, or at least that's what we see. Be that as it may, I implore you, do not seek that fairness and equality in the same manner that the injustice was brought to you. Everything that we do has to be with pure intentions. Yes, let's stand up for what we believe in, and we CAN change the world, but let's do it in a positive manner. If we go out in that world and make a fuss with hurt, angry, or wrong intentions, the negativity will come. The media feeds from the negativity. It is the wrong doings that always seem to make the headlines first. We have to change this. That is the stand we need to make together. We have to build this world for the better. For the young eyes that watch what we do and how we handle things. I always tell my children, "Do it with your whole heart or don't do it at all." It is hard for me to believe that when we engage in acts of unkindness to one another, it is done with our hearts. No, that is not something that our hearts were made to promote. Being unkind was not a part of the process that it took to build our hearts, it was made only with love. In situations where you are being tested; it is best to listen, to understand, and to know that God sees all. We forget that we are all part of a bigger picture and he has put us here for a reason. Temptation and tests will block our path at times, look past them and keep your eyes on Him. He hurts with us. That frustration you feel will not comfort you, but He will. Can you see it?
In honor of World Ocean Day, I'd like to give a thumbs-down shout-out to our species for carelessly laying waste to the oceans of our blue planet. I'd like to also take this opportunity to remind everyone that the reason the planet is blue, IS because of the very oceans we are actively decimating. The next generations, should they somehow survive all this nonsense, will most likely call it the "brown planet” for all the rust and actual crap, or "plastic planet” for all the shopping bags flying in the radioactive winds. I live in Florida, which is basically a sand dune jotting into the ocean. It is flush with animals and plant life. Or was. Until a certain species arrived, this was an ocean-front replica of Garden of Eden, with the ocean and land and all the creatures within them living in glorious harmony in an echo system that was working like a well-crafted Swiss watch. Until, I'm assuming, just like the real Garden of Eden, a mad scientist husband-and-wife team arrived and spliced genes in snakes and apples and things, and thus, gave birth to two new life forms: Tourists and Snowbirds! These non-native invasive species plundered the natural resources like an unsupervised toddler going at a sundae cone. They bulldozed forests, destroying native plant-life, cutting down centuries-old trees, to make room for theme parks. Theme parks with artificial plant life! And, get this: plastic trees! Some after-thought was given to nature conservancy, though, and some areas, however tiny, were left alone. And then, thousands of acres of green spaces around were paved over so visitors could park their cars and visit these remaining few acres of green spaces left between shopping strips, pawn shops, and gambling casinos. And a few thousand gift shops with over-sized parking lots, hundreds of road rage incidents with casualties, and fifty or so theme parks later, the whole place started looking like a scene from a post-apocalyptic movie. Like lava from an active volcano, this unfettered human pollution covered everything from shore to shore. And it did not stop at the shore, either. The mighty ocean got its fair share of abuse along with everything else on land. Actually, “the ocean got polluted” would not even be a proper description any longer. Now, it's more like “pollution got a little bit of ocean splashed on it”. Dolphins and alligators alike are choking on small white balls with weird dents on them, while panthers are drowning in backyard swimming pools. Black bears are starving next to the dumpsters behind supermarkets full of half-eaten food items, and the fish are buying up all the scuba gear and oxygen tanks just to survive the unlivable polluted waters. The catch of the day for the local fishermen is typically made up of golf clubs, meth pipes, refrigerators and worn-out flip-flops. And, the occasional fish. Clinically-depressed fish that chose suicide-by-fisherman over death-by-plastic-and-or-chemicals. Whatever damage levels achieved with land-based efforts like sewage, industrial waste and plastic garbage, was further supported and expanded with off-shore drilling with occasional oil spills on top of their regular pollutions. Off-shore sounds sterile until you do the math and realize it's still in the same ocean and only one ocean current or tropical storm distance from shore. Think gun-to-the-head execution-style versus sniper fire. Same end result: One fatally-shot ocean. It may not be too late. But we need a whole new species of mankind to enter the scene for a better result. One that respects the environment and not treat it like a distant relative up in age that we are mooching off of, who in all likelihood will leave us the entire estate in his will anyway. The very same estate we are burning down! Time to teach our children, the planet is sustainable, only if we choose to sustain it! So next time they ask you "plastic or paper bag?". hear this: "choke a bird or kill a tree?". And juggle your groceries to the bed of your gigantic truck that would better serve a commercial enterprise with heavy hauling needs, than a petite accountant working from home. Let us observe the “Ocean Day”, not to completely disregard the oceans for the rest of the year, but to remind ourselves that the oceans deserve our attention every single day. If we do not, then we might as well teach our grandkids to celebrate “Breathable Air Day” along with “Potable Water Day “only once a year, too. And hope that there will be enough air masks and rationed water to go around.
.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
Today I had a vision in my head of sitting at my favorite coffee shop and unleashing my thoughts that have been writhing inside of my mind, calling out to me to be expressed on paper. Life has been a little busy lately and I haven't gotten to sit and express deeply in so long, my heart was excited for the time that I had planned. I was going to one of my favorite places, which held beautiful views and great coffee. It started out magical. As I entered, the smell of freshly brewed coffee welcomed me. Though the morning was brisk, the sun was pouring over the views of the city as I watched from inside. Breathing in the beauty, I took a sip of the hot coffee that I held in my hands, letting the moment soothe my soul. Opening my laptop to a blank page, I was ready. A few moments passed as I began to write, my heart racing at the feeling of freeing my mind. Soon after, the business started to pick up. A kind man approached and asked me how my day was going. His smile was sincere and his eyes were inviting. I smiled back, recognizing a familiar face from the past. The first thing he asked me was about stocks, leading into the covid vaccine, and politics. I sat quietly and let him talk, never letting my smile fall, I listened intently. His colleagues arrived and it was clear that they were having a morning meeting. I ended our conversation, "Nice seeing you," and I turned back to my writing. Only it was short lived, as the shop began to fill with conversation of politics, the noise of the disagreements and opinions starting to overpower my peace. I should have brought headphones or something to block out the noise, right? Wrong. I have never been one to wear things that block out the "noise" of the world. I have always been intrigued with what's going on around me. I CHOOSE not to participate in the noise or chaos, but I can listen with an open heart, learning and growing as I take it in. Sometimes the "noise" of the world is beautiful, even if it's not what we want to hear. We are all human beings, whether we believe the same or not. Letting something destroy our peace is our choice. It took me a moment, but I jumped right back into my thoughts, and this was the result. I gained inspiration from the brief disturbance of my thoughts. My peace is my own, my thoughts are my own, my actions are my own, and what I choose everyday is up to me. I choose peace.
