Ganga Project Essay Example for Free

Ganga Project Essay Born in the lap of the Himlayas, I have been flowing towards the sea for ages, through hills and valleys and planes by earning love and good wishes of all whom I meet on my long way. I am a river, a dancing maid, who knows not how to tarry for a while. When I was given this eternal flow I remember not, and when it will end is a mystery to me. This much I know that I was given my birth to serve the earth with her animate or inanimate creations. My life is a dedicated one, meant to purify the filth of the earth. I wash and carry away the polluted articles, such as the smelly corpses of men and beasts, the wastages of oils and chemicals of the mills, and the excretory refuse of the towns and villages-all sorts of dirty accumulations from my both the banks. Still with a gay heart, I run and jump and sing my murmuring song, as I pass through the green paddy fields, dense forests or thickly populated inhabitations. The sky overhead protects me with its endless roof; the sun gives me his brightest rays, while the moon plays with me the game of tides : ebb and flow; the passing clouds shower their secret treasures on my hidden heart to make me happy. I give shelter to the fishes and the aquatic animals; I give company to the innocent boatmen; I enjoy the music of the birds flying in the blue sky above, or settling on the flowing water-hyacinths on my broad bed . I welcome the soft rays of the setting sun that creates a beautiful glare on my little ripples, when the wind blows slowly. With sun rays I look different at day, and with moon rays mystic at night. I live and will live to continue my eternal journey with my ever youthful heart. River Ganges is a massive river in India, where Im from. So as a part of the Environment Contest, I write this piece Life as a river aint easy, especially when you start from an glacier which refuses to stop melting. Ganges here, River Ganges . . . I figure you might have heard of me sometime or the other. And yes, I am openly envied by all my other river-sisters. They’re pretty jealous actually, thinking of me as perennial, and never ending and all that rubbish. Well let’s get something straight like a strait, life as a river ain’t easy. I’m old, let me tell you that. So old that I forgot when I began, and I don’t forget. I remember when the President took a nice cruise over me in 2009. I can tell you that it was 29th August. Well enough of that, now where were we? Yeah, I’m old. I began when several glaciers started melting. I had fresh water, and a faint smell of lilies were all there was to me. All along my banks, civilization began, trees grew, houses were built, families were made, and myths about me were told to one and all. I was worshipped by almost everyone. And that’s when it got horrible. I began to get bathed in; they thought that by bathing in me, they’d get â€Å"pure† souls and â€Å"peaceful† courses to Heaven. All the good it did them, they could’ve just taken a bath with normal water. They sure were satisfied with themselves, but I, I was left to accept murky, sweaty, disgusting human bodies dousing themselves in me, and occasionally, defecating in me. But still, no one cared, and the other rivers, they only got more envious. They thought I was lucky that I got all the attention and said they’d trade places with me any  day. Yeah, like I wouldn’t kill for that. Eventually, I had several marine animals and plants wishing to reside in my waters. And I didn’t mind it much. I would love to have some sort of company in my waters. Then came another phase; humans began to wash clothes and their cattle in me. I mean yeah, I could handle them, they were hardly ever that dirty, but really, clothes and animals? I was just awestruck. When people washed their clothes, so much dirt was excreted. And the animals, they didn’t give a damn about the world! They’d poop all over the place. Rubbish absolutely! And don’t tell me I didn’t warn anyone, of course I tried to! If the fools are blind enough to mistake a hurricane as a sign of anger as a ‘natural disaster’, I say to Tartarus with them! And when a tourist would come by, they’d bathe in my waters too! What audacity. I bet they have plenty of fresh, clean  rivers in their country where they could bathe, why me? So I’d ask some of my water-bacteria to go and give them a prick to make them learn. And they’d go home green. And that glacier! It absolutely refuses to stop melting. Well nothing’s happening to it, but I’m getting flooded so quick that people fear living on my banks nowadays. Well I don’t mind that but . . . So I say, to everyone reading this, if you dare to come ‘purify’ your body in me, I’ll make sure that an eel wraps around your leg! Ha! So that’s that then, this is River Ganges signing off, and be sure to spread the message! I am a river. I like to give you an account of my life. You may laugh to think what is the value of the autobiography of a river. You may laugh if you like. Men write their autobiographies. They have importance in their own way. I have importance in my own way. Birth and early careerI was born long ago in an obscure place in a mountain. Several very small streams of water joined together to form one bigger stream. That is how I was born. I am that bigger stream. I am restless from my birth. I cannot stay at one place. So I flow down the mountain. I leap from one rock to another. I am full of life and vigor. As I flow down, I gather strength. My current is very strong here. I carry down with me broken rocks. At last I come down to the plains. My career in the upper plainsHere I begin to widen in my course. People begin to make use of my water. Here it is as pure as anything. In my upper course, people have built up towns of pilgrimage. They have built temples on my banks. Hundreds of people bathe in my sacred water. They worship the deities in those temples. They regard me as very sacred. There are also several health resorts in my upper course. People from many parts of the country come there for a change. They walk on my banks. They enjoy the natural beauty. They recover their lost health and return home with a happy heart. My career in the lower plainsI have said before that I am very restless. I am constantly on the move downwards. Leaving the upper plains behind I flow down through the lower plains. My water increases the fertility of the fields on either side of my banks. Abundant crops grow there. The country become prosperous. Towns on my banksPeople have built large towns on my banks. Some of these towns are centres of culture. Some have commercial importance. People carry on trade and commerce. They ply boats and steamers along my surface. These carry many important goods for trade. People travel from one place to another in boats and steamers. Hundreds of people bathe in water. They use my water for drinking and other purposes. Efforts to control meDuring the rainy season I carry large quantities of rain-water from the mountain. My surface rises. Sometimes I overflow the banks and cause flood. People suffer much. But am I to blame for this ? What can I do if huge quantities of rainwater flow down me from the mountain? Your Government has now tried to control my furious nature in the rainy season. In my upper course sometimes I fall down several hundred feet from a great height. Here your Government has built barriers across me to hold back my water. It has built dams to store up the surplus water to irrigate the land to help agriculture. Electricity is also generated here with the power of my water. This electricity is cheaper. It helps industry in towns and even in remote villages. Thus you may see how I help you. My career in the lowest courseIn this way I go on. I have no rest. Men may come and men may go, but I go on for ever. † Your Government has tried to control my furious nature. But it is a very difficult task to control me always. Sometimes I play the part of a destroyer. I wash away my banks. I destroy towns and villages. Again I play the part of a creator. I carry down sediments. These are deposited in some places where the current is not strong. New land is formed there. This land is very fertile. This is done near about the place where I join the sea. Ports at my mouthI flow on to join the sea. This is my goal. This portion of my course is called my mouth. People have built ports here. Factories have been built on my banks. This makes the country prosperous. But the factories do one great harm. In my upper course my water is very pure. But here the municipalities of the towns and the factories throw away all sorts of impurities into my water. This pollutes my water. I am not to blame for this. ConclusionThis is my life history. There is one great difference between men and me. I am constantly on the move to join the sea. Men are born and they die. I have no death. I will flow eternally. I will do great service to men. They should, therefore, remain grateful to me.

Night Essay -- essays research papers

World War II and the diseased mind of Hitler were the factors the led to the Genocide. People who were not the superior race in Hitler’s opinion did not deserve to live. Jews were the target of the extermination. To establish his plan Hitler created Concentration Camps, where people were forced to work. Those that were considered useless became fuel for the gas chambers and crematory. Hitler’s long term goal was to wipe out all the Jews. In the novel, Night, by Elie Wiesel, the author retells the unforgettable hardship and suffering that he goes through while he is in the concentration camps. In this novel, Elie helps us realize and visualize the brutality and madness of the camps and SS officers. His struggle for survival and the horror that he is exposed to changes his life forever. Elie’s experiences at the camp have a dramatic impact on his faith, his relationship with his father and his innocence. â€Å"Never shall I forget those flames which consumed my faith forever. Never I shall forget the nocturnal silence which deprived me, for all eternity, of the desire to live. Never shall I forget those moments which murdered my God and my soul and turned my dreams to dust. Never shall I forget those things, even when I am condemned to live as long as God Himself. Never.† By reading this quote you can hear Elie Wiesel anguish and what an impact concentration camps had on his faith. Before he was exposed to other mans madness and brutality he had faith in God and lived for him. He ...

Mini was a little girl, who was unusually fond of conversations Essay

Mini was a little girl, who was unusually fond of conversations. She had a makeshift mind that moved between various topics within her scope. Although she was young, she could start a conversation with people double or even triple her age. Eventually she became friends with Rahamat, an Afghani money lender, whom she fondly called Kabuliwala. It was a delight to watch the two banter. Rahamat, was a tall, bearded man, who carried a sack on his shoulders while Mini was a tiny little girl who would chatter all the way. Initially Mini, was afraid of interacting with him, because she believed that Rahamat abducted little children in his sack. But Rahamat, because of his obvious fondness for the little girl, broke the ice, by presenting some raisins and apricots from his bag. Mini came from an aristocratic Bengali family and Rahamat was just an ordinary fruit peddler from Kabul yet it seemed like they were close chums. The two friends had a few stock phrases and jokes which were repeated in their conversations. For example, the moment she saw Rahamat, she would ask with a hearty laugh, ‘Kabuliwala, O Kabuliwala, what is in your sack?’ Adding an unnecessary nasal tone to the word, Rahamat would roar, ‘Hanti.’ The essence of the joke was that the man had an elephant in his sack. Not that the joke was very witty, but it caused the two friends to double up in laughter, and the sight of that innocent joy between a little girl and a grown man on autumn mornings used to move Mini’s father deeply. However Mini’s mother wasn’t too pleased with the growing friendship between Rahamat and her daughter and often nagged Mini’s father to keep an eye on him. One fine day, her worries came true; when Rahamat was arrested on charges of stabbing a man because the man had denied the debt he owed Rahamat, in the heat of the argument. Rahamat was in the midst of hurling abuse in an obscene language at the dishonest man when Mini came running out of the house, shouting, ‘Kabuliwala, O Kabuliwala.’ In a flash, Rahamat’s face was filled with expressions of happiness. Innocently Mini asked him, ‘Will you be going to your in-laws’ house?’ ‘That’s exactly where I am going,’ Rahamat replied with a laugh. When he noticed that Mini did not find the answer quite amusing, he pointed to his hands and added in his heavily accented, broken Bengali, ‘I would have beaten up the in-law. But what can I do, my hands are tied up.’ Charged with grievous injury, Rahamat was sent to jail for several years. That was the last time that Mini saw him and quite child-likely forgot all about him as she grew up. Several years passed. Mini’s wedding match had been fixed. On the day of the wedding, her father was busy looking at the wedding accounts when a man appeared before him, he had no bag, nor the long hair, nor the same vigour that he used to have. But he smiled, and Mini’s father knew it was Rahamat. Mini’s father knew what he had come for. But he refused to allow him to meet Mini as he thought that it would be bad omen. Disappointed he put his hand inside his big loose robe, and brought out a small and dirty piece of paper. With great care he unfolded this, and smoothed it out with both hands on my table. It bore the impression of a little band. Not a photograph. Not a drawing. The impression of an ink-smeared hand laid flat on the paper. This touch of his own little daughter had been always on his heart, as he had come year after year to Calcutta, to sell his wares in the streets. Tears came to Mini’s father’s eyes. He forgot that he was a poor Kabuli fruit-seller, while he was nothing more than he. He also was a father. That impression of the hand of his little daughter in her distant mountain home reminded him of his own little Mini. When Rahamat saw Mini after all these years, he staggered. He could not revive their old friendship. At last he smiled and said: â€Å"Little one, are you going to your father-in-law’s house?† But Mini now understood the meaning of the word â€Å"father-in-law,† and she could not reply to him as of old. She flushed up at the question, and stood before him with her bride-like face turned down. Mini’s father deeply touched by what had just happened gave Rahamat, enough money to go back and see his own daughter in Afghanistan. Having done this, he had to cut down on some of the marriage festivity costs, but to him the wedding feast was all the brighter for the thought that in a distant land a long-lost father met again with his only child.

Criticism Of Macbeths Ambition - 1452 Words

Macbeth criticism Hypothesis: Macbeth is a slave to his overarching ambition. The historical play Macbeth written by Shakespeare tells a story of a man who succumbs to his ambitious demons and consequently develops a manic-depressive persona. After studying Macbeth and reading various criticisms I can conclude that Macbeth is a slave to his overarching ambition. The ambition was always there but when he encounters the â€Å"weird sisters† who tell him half-truths as a prophecy his weak mind choses to believe it and thus begins his journey to his own demise. The critics I will be referencing are John Charles Bucknill (1858), Vassilki Markidou (2003), Bert O. States (1985). Each critic argues that Macbeth’s ambition is ultimately responsible†¦show more content†¦John Charles Bucknill writes â€Å"It must be remembered that the drama brings Macbeth face to face with the supernatural, with that devil’s brood the weird Sisters, so unlike the inhabitants of earth, who, after a prophecy immediately fulfilled, â€Å"made themselves air into which they vanished. What would be the effect upon a man of nervous sensibility, of such appearances? Surely most profound. Well may Hazlitt say, that he can conceive no common actor to look like a man who had encountered the weird Sisters. The great interest of this drama is most skilfully made to depend upon the conflicting emotions of sympathy with a man struggling under fearful temptation; horror excited by treachery and foul murder; awful amazement at the visible grasp of the Spirit of Evil upon the human soul; and of satisfied justice at the hell of remorse into which he is plunged. In this respect there is an obvious parallelism between Macbeth and Faust; since in both the hero-criminal of the piece is not responsible as a free agent, so far as he is but the mortal instrument of the fiend in deeds of evil.† Macbeths weak mind is shown in this criticism, which aids my hypothesis of his downfall being stemmed from his overarching ambition. John Charles Bucknill wrote, â€Å"He discovers that Lady Macbeth is the mock fortitude of a mind deluded by ambition. She shames her husband by a superhuman audacity of fancy which she cannot support, but sinks in the season of remorse,Show MoreRelatedThe Downfall of Lady Macbeth in William Shakespeares Macbeth1399 Words   |  6 PagesThe Downfall of Lady Macbeth in William Shakespeares Macbeth William Shakespeares Macbeth has been a theatrical favorite since Elizabethan times. Its timeless themes of ambition, fate, violence, and insanity collaborate to produce a captivating plot. 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