It was raining heavily. All the streets of the city was flooded. I could not go to the university. It was difficult even to walk on the main road from where I could get the rickshaw.
I was sitting on a chair in the balcony, watching the gushing water of the rain flowing with rapid and alarming speed as it would inundate the city. It had rained the all night and still after passing many hours of the day, it had not stopped.
I started the radio which was always like a good companion for me. But in that stormy weather, its sound was not much clear, especially the medium wave on which we used to listen the very popular Urdu service of Patna Radio Station.
I switched off the radio and went to my room to pick a book. But my mind was not at peace. It had become difficult for me to concentrate on anything.
My second sister, Sheeba came to me. She said, “have you heard elder sister, BJP leader L K Advani’s rath yatra is going to come to Bihar also. But the chief minster has asked them not to enter our state. If they did so, we would arrest them.”
It was not a new news for me. I was const...
Early in the morning, twenty four years ago on the twelvth day in the month of July, a baby boy was born at St. Mary's hospital in Athens, Georgia. The Pollock household of three had grown by one. Jennifer, the new boy's three year old sister, had already named him. The new boy was to be called Jody Lamon Pollock. Jody was the name she picked, and Lamon was the mother's father's name. So this is how I came to be Mr. Jody Lamon Pollock.
"The sound of rain smacking down on my concrete patio about ten feet away from the typewriter, rain beating down on the surface of the big aqua-lighted pool out there across the lawn.... rain blowing into the porch and whipping the palm fronds around in the warm night air" (Thompson, 108)
In “The Truth about Stories”, Thomas King, demonstrate connection between the Native storytelling and the authentic world. He examines various themes in the stories such as; oppression, racism, identity and discrimination. He uses the creational stories and implies in to the world today and points out the racism and identity issues the Native people went through and are going through. The surroundings shape individuals’ life and a story plays vital roles. How one tells a story has huge impact on the listeners and readers. King uses sarcastic tone as he tells the current stories of Native people and his experiences. He points out to the events and incidents such as the government apologizing for the colonialism, however, words remains as they are and are not exchanged for actions. King continuously alerts the reader about taking actions towards change as people tend to be ignorant of what is going around them. At the end people give a simple reason that they were not aware of it. Thus, the author constantly reminds the readers that now they are aware of the issue so they do not have any reason to be ignorant.
Story telling is something extremely powerful. Stories are used as an escape, a connection, or a memory. In “How To Tell A True War Story”, by veteran and author Tim O’Brien, stories were used to help keep the author sane after fighting in a brutal war. In “Selections from Reading Lolita in Tehran”, written by Azar Nafisi an author and activist, Nafisi explains how escaping reality through works of fiction helped her keep her individuality and sanity during a time of great struggle in her homeland of Iran. Opposing these two authors ideas is Martha Stout’s, a clinical psychologist, “When I Woke Up Tuesday Morning, It Was Friday”, by scientifically examining her patients experiences to explain the phenomenon of dissociation. Stout’s definition of dissociation was described in a way that it has varying levels, from slight to monumental, and how it disrupts people lives and changes their sense of self. In all three of these pieces it is clear to see that dissociation is used differently, and has different effects on each scenario. Dissociation is often linked to healing, but it is not a method of healing, it is a method of coping with tragedy. People utilize different aspects such as imagination and fiction as tools to aid their dissociation, but in the end they are still forced to come back and face the harsh reality of their lives. The true question is if dissociating helps protect or if it harms the delicate sense of self. This essay will explain how these tools, of imagination and fiction, are used to shield the person’s sense of identity, and whether dissociation is helping them or harming them.
I went through the day numb. After school, I hurried home, closed the door to
Many deaths by destruction of homes and drownings had occurred from the torturous rainfall that was caused
the rain was pelting down on my head. My car had just broken down in
In the beginning of the story, a violent rainstorm rages outside. Rain falls hard and lightning strikes on a cold, windy night. By the end of the story, the weather is warmer and the storm has cleared, leaving only puddles in the banks of the streets.
When the flood first happened people where provided with sandbags as temporary barriers to the flooding, the authorities installed portable pumps to help people pump out the water and many other things where put in place to help people. A problem as most roads became impassable which meant people where stranded from emergency aid, food and water.250, 000 people had to be evacuated from there homes before people got killed from the fast flowing water, but 4 people still got killed and hundreds of homes where flooded and some got damaged beyond repair. Just over 1 million cattle where evacuated from the worst hit farmland which led to reduced intake of milk from them because of the disturbance and many got foot rot from being stood in saturated water all day. The flood damage cost millions of pounds to insurance companies and homeowners in the worst hit areas. It took many months to completely clear the devastation that the flood left
Meanwhile, I pan the area taking in all the catastrophe in the small town of Cheshire Village. The people were running around to and fro, minding their own business. I just sat there, not caring that the water is soaking me. I just watch the rain drip down on me. Drip Drop, Drip Drop.
After a quick breakfast, I pulled some of my gear together and headed out. The car ride of two hours seemed only a few moments as I struggled to reinstate order in my chaotic consciousness and focus my mind on the day before me. My thoughts drifted to the indistinct shadows of my memory.
The city was blinding me with shining lights that you could see from space. It was glistening in the night and dull by day. There were cars parked all alongside the streets and traffic jams every corner.
Radio is one of the easiest and cheapest media sources. The giant advantage of radio as a part of globalization process is that it can be understood by even illiterate people and can be served to a larger number of people. Moreover it is accessible to the people who l...