Conflict

๐€๐’๐Š๐„๐‘๐“๐€๐‹๐ˆ: ๐Ÿ๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ ๐๐จ๐ž๐ฆ๐ฌ ๐จ๐Ÿ ๐ƒ๐ซ. ๐‘๐จ๐จ๐ฉ๐š๐ฅ๐ข ๐’๐ข๐ซ๐œ๐š๐ซ ๐†๐š๐ฎ๐ซ

โ€œ๐˜ช๐˜ง ๐˜บ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ ๐˜ต๐˜ฆ๐˜ญ๐˜ญ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ต๐˜ณ๐˜ถ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ, ๐˜บ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ’๐˜ต ๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ท๐˜ฆ ๐˜ต๐˜ฐ ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜บ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จโ€ Mark ๐“๐ฐ๐š๐ข๐ง, novelist.โ€œ

โ„๐“ƒ ๐“…โ„ดโ„ฏ๐“‰๐“‡๐“Ž, โ„ ๐“ˆ๐“…โ„ฏ๐’ถ๐“€ ๐“‰๐’ฝโ„ฏ ๐“‰๐“‡๐“Š๐“‰๐’ฝ..โ€ Dr. Roopali Sircar ๐†๐š๐ฎ๐ซ, poet, novelist, writer, editor, conservationist and social justice activist.

And yet, her sparkling and fructuous memory, complements Twainโ€™s nugget of wisdom.

๐ƒ๐ซ. ๐†๐š๐ฎ๐ซ ๐ฌ๐ก๐š๐ซ๐ž๐ฌ.

โ€œPropelled by my father, I began writing poetry three decades ago. The intense grief of his sudden death stirred me. Like the monsoon rain, ๐“Œโ„ด๐“‡๐’น๐“ˆ ๐“…โ„ด๐“Š๐“‡โ„ฏ๐’น ๐’พ๐“ƒ. And as the years turned pages, my poems began to tell stories embracing the world around me. The poems trace the development of my mind as I grew to understand ๐“ˆโ„ด๐’ธ๐’พ๐’ถ๐“ ๐’ถ๐“ƒ๐’น ๐’ฝ๐’พ๐“ˆ๐“‰โ„ด๐“‡๐’พ๐’ธ๐’ถ๐“ ๐’พ๐“ƒ๐’ป๐“๐“Šโ„ฏ๐“ƒ๐’ธโ„ฏ๐“ˆ ๐’ถ๐“ƒ๐’น ๐’ธโ„ด๐“ƒ๐“ƒโ„ฏ๐’ธ๐“‰๐’พโ„ด๐“ƒ๐“ˆ.

โ€œ๐“‘๐“ป๐“ฎ๐“ช๐“ด๐“ฒ๐“ท๐“ฐ ๐“ผ๐“ฝ๐“ฎ๐“ป๐“ฎ๐“ธ๐“ฝ๐”‚๐“น๐“ฎ๐“ผ is the natural outcome of my poetic oeuvre. War, widowhood, myths, rural folk, contemporary social conditions are some of the themes that haunt this volume. The poems in this volume are my spontaneous response to life’s true happenings. You may find the ๐“ผ๐“ช๐“ฝ๐“ฒ๐“ป๐“ฎ and ๐“ฒ๐“ป๐“ธ๐“ท๐”‚ sometimes difficult to bear. ๐“’๐“ธ๐“ท๐“ฏ๐“ต๐“ฒ๐“ฌ๐“ฝ and ๐“ฟ๐“ฒ๐“ธ๐“ต๐“ฎ๐“ท๐“ฌ๐“ฎ have, historically, and in contemporary life, obliterated images of peace.โ€ We are not able to hear the nightingale in the concrete jungle.โ€

๐’Ÿ๐“‡. โ„›โ„ดโ„ด๐“…๐’ถ๐“๐’พ ๐’ฎ๐’พ๐“‡๐’ธ๐’ถ๐“‡ ๐’ข๐’ถ๐“Š๐“‡ ๐’พ๐“ˆ ๐“‰๐’ฝโ„ฏ ๐“ƒ๐’พโ„Š๐’ฝ๐“‰๐’พ๐“ƒโ„Š๐’ถ๐“โ„ฏ ๐“Œ๐’ฝโ„ด๐“ˆโ„ฏ ๐“ˆ๐’พ๐“ƒโ„Š๐’พ๐“ƒโ„Š ๐“‡โ„ฏ๐“ˆโ„ด๐“ƒ๐’ถ๐“‰โ„ฏ๐“ˆ ๐’พ๐“ƒ ๐“‰๐’ฝโ„ฏ ๐’ธโ„ด๐“ƒ๐’ธ๐“‡โ„ฏ๐“‰โ„ฏ ๐’ฟ๐“Š๐“ƒโ„Š๐“โ„ฏ.

ASKERKALI: https://shorturl.at/iyKrT

Roopali Sircar Gaur’s Books: https://shorturl.at/SuWfU

Publishers

Pakistanโ€™s Education System Under Scrutiny After โ€ฆ

by Dr. Azam Gill

She cowered under a table, trembling.
The timeless aroma of spices was retreating to the fetid stench of fear. Kaka Johnsonโ€™s eyes narrowed to slits. His brain overcame instinct and with great presence of mind he pulled down the grilled steel shutters of his fast-food joint.
Intoxicated by self-righteousness, the crowd in the street bayed for a ritual sacrifice on a rap beat, desperate to mitigate its own misery. The death chant rose in slow intensity, drowning Kaka Johnsonโ€™s desperate pleas and leaving his mouth open in a silent, Munchean scream.
The first spark of decency.
Two neighbouring shopkeepers begged for sanity โ€” their pleas swallowed up by the death chant.
They were the second spark of self-respect.
Although the Imam from a nearby mosque made the mistake of not reading the calligraphy on the robe, he courageously arrived to face the crowd and argued unheard against insanity.
He was the third spark of courage.
Then tires skidded on gravel, and tight-faced police officers spilled out of their jeeps, index fingers on trigger guards, throats dry, eyes darting to approaches, exits and hostiles.

Read More: https://www.differenttruths.com/governance/law-order/focus-pakistans-education-system-under-scrutiny-after-mobs-near-lynching/