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my name is hasan

Auteur: M_Mim_4820
Magical Realism
Actuel · 470 Affichage
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What is my name is hasan

Lisez le roman my name is hasan écrit par l'auteur M_Mim_4820 publié sur WebNovel. ...

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Bhagvad-Gita: Treatise of Self-help

Bhagavad-Gita is the most beautiful, perhaps the only true philosophical song existing in any known tongue’ – William von Humboldt. Though it is a matter of consensus that Bhagvad-Gita in the present length of seven hundred slokas has many an interpolation to it such as chaturvarnyam mayashrustam, but no meaningful attempt has ever been made to delve into the nature and extent, not to speak of the effect of these on the Hindu society at large. The methodical codification of interpolations carried out here puts the true character of the Gita in proper perspective. Identified here are hundred and ten slokas of deviant nature and or of partisan character, the source of so much misunderstanding about this book extraordinary, in certain sections of the Hindu fold. In the long run, exposing and expunging these mischievous insertions is bound to bring in new readers from these quarters to this over two millennia old classic besides altering the misconceptions of the existing adherents. The moot point that has missed the attention of all, all along, is that if the Sudras were to be so lowly in the Lord’s creation, how come then the Gita’s architect Krishna, His avatar, and Vyāsa, its chronicler, happen to be from the same lowly Hindu caste fold. Moreover, is it not absurd to suggest that either or both of them had deprecated the station of their own varna (caste) on their own in their very own Gita? In this rendition the beauty of the Gita’s Sanskrit slokas is reflected in the rhythmic flow of the English verse of poetic proportions even as the attendant philosophy is captured in contemporary idiom for easy comprehension. An audio rendition of this work is in the YouTube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6vFU3-LD4iM

BS_Murthy · Histoire
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21 Chs

My Dismissive fake-love marriage

[18+ readers] "I was not sorry. Not even once." My eyes fell upon those long pale fingers which just held me from a certain death. "You are already a pain. If you go around doing like this might as well put me into the bars for years." His bad-mouth was so lively that even those harsh cold words were enough to make me cry and roll down to my knees. Julien Tedd. 25 years old married to a grumpy cold-hearted man in his 30s. An actor and a CEO of PAXTON Trades which was in delta. He as a fake husband with grey eyes and an vexed face. Who loves money than anything. "I wasn't a bitch to you. Who asked you to fake marry me? My parents loved to woo you in their well-beings." Those were the first time I said something deliberate to outstand my voice in that relationship. "Bit furry of time. If my memory serves right. Monica, You Annabella with two horns. Go sleep alway to death." He did hurt my heart that day. We slept in different bedrooms. Though we would put an act on when our parents visits us. On occasions like weddings or house rituals with my young sisters or my big brothers side. He hated me being around him. I hated him how he ignored my existence in the big mirage of his. He loved to call me by my first name Monica Dus. He didn't bother to put the Tedd of his name beside mine. I was no honour of him. He wasn't proud of me. when we both married I was a professor and was soon becoming the principal of the FD college, Columbia University. My dad proposal broke me down to marry some unknown grumpy man!! I was still in my 25 years where I should be happy not sad. Our marriage was like a contract basis- He would act on his role. As if he was gifted this act to do. I found myself fond of his submissive side. His black hair was perfect with those thin glasses which read thousands of newspapers or faces of other ladies. Wait! Other ladies? He impressed other ladies while doing his job too. My marriage was fake. Very fake. Made-up in my mind that we would somehow fit with each other nagging, fighting being disloyal and bad-mouthing for everything. Martina, my younger sister questioned my marriage or love life which was written on my face everytime I visit them. That I was never happened to be putting this act on. Not even the marriage was forced without anything enclosed about to me. It was winter, when I started to understand him. He was practically tired of putting upto me. Not even coming physically challenged with me. His lips told the words which were hard to swallow "I want to end this acting for years. Would you mind helping me recover that?" What's exactly that? It was just as my younger sister said 'he will fight to keep you by his side as you live with him. You know how to cook what to cook. When he gets angry or happy. He will dip his head to make you feel loved and love you too.' Was it true? Then was I always this dumb? His hard big thump pressed my forehead bringing me back to seep into the eyes of his. "I said will you take responsibility for making me sick for two years?" My lips parted to speak but it wasn't speaking anymore they were locked with my married man. The man who owned me. Who minutes ago made me feel a complete loser and defeated me to get on my knees and cry for him. Beg him to spare the life. To cut all the marriage ties with him. Are we able to hold a family anymore. A real one? Was he? Or he was fooling around? Those years of carnage over my ears, eyes, lips were already served as a graveyard right?

_LIZA_ · Urbain
Pas assez d’évaluations
7 Chs
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