MY MOTHER S MILK (A Famous story in english)

I had seen a performance of Portuguese dance and music in Melaka. Almost all songs and dance were from Portugal. Minha Rosinha was one of them, the certainty of the Portuguese House COM was another (the titles mean respectively "My little Rose" and "certainly a Portuguese house"). Both are well-known songs. I am familiar with them to watch Portuguese folk music dances on television as a child. I remember that I usually changed channels after a minute or two because I sing and dance terribly sticky, and very inbrazilian.

The most famous Portuguese singer of Brazil at the time was Roberto Leal ("Loyal Robert"-it turns out to be an artistic name). He wore a folk costume while singing and dancing. The costumes were also completely Portuguese. (Oddly enough, although born in Portugal, he moved to Brazil as a child and lived there.) He was our own Portuguese folk dancer and singer. He was also the most famous Portuguese in Brazil. No one seems to care that he is Brazilian too.

This is what many anthropologists and historians call a clear case of the invention of tradition: namely, none of this was before the decade of the 1950. The young people who dance in Melaka seemed to do it right. One of the girls was very noticeable: she was tall, she had bright green eyes and a nice smile. (I learned that he died in a traffic accident last year.) I was invited to participate in one of the dances with several guests. The beauty of the green eyes came to me, but I hesitated to show my amazing lack of skill in Portuguese folk dance. Anyway, an Italian colleague asked me to get up and dance. I was a Brazilian after all, and the imagination of a Brazilian was not able to dance. Almost as rare as an Italian non-attitude!

Some of the students-Malaysians were Portuguese-language students-also danced. The group did not indeed in the community, but a large group of students and employees of the University of Malaysia. The place was the Papa Joe's Restaurant, which announces Portuguese and Nyonya cuisine, as well as the Chinese crabs (Pope Joe himself was one of the singers). I find the combination of Portuguese, Nyonya and Chinese seafood revealing: I found local cuisine often linked, no matter what ethnic origin or labels attached. Instead of being in opposition, the three were part of the same culinary continuum.

During a break I noticed that the young men and women who danced in Malay spoke to each other. Noel (My Portuguese friend and teacher) deeply regrets that the government and the non-Portuguese local society are undermining the community's cultural heritage; It is the community itself. Traditional festivities are not carried out in an appropriate manner; The traditions are abandoned, and the language is slow but safe to decay.

I muse that maybe everything changed, and very quickly. Noel is very religious, like all the elders in the community that I have spoken so far. It's easy to get a long rant about morality and religion. I wonder how attractive it is for the younger generation. Moreover, the Portuguese community was always an open group: The descendants of the Dutch people of Melaka, for example, also speak Portuguese and are often regarded as members of the community. (I don't think anyone speaks Dutch to Melaka anymore). Noel still inveighs against naming "Eurasia" from time to time: his point is that it is not root-people in a particular country, but it is vague and general. It was a British colonial name used by the community before being re-established as a Portuguese in the last colonial period. Noel must have been a teenager when the identity change has taken place. I don't know anyone in Melaka who is carving in Eurasia. The Christmas point of the house hammers over and over again is that the community Portuguese and therefore Portuguese (ie) Portuguese.

THE ESCAPE .A Famous story IN English

The alarm sound that indicates the end of the hour. The tower has changed guard. Superintendent Jackson had tightened the security protocols after the uprising broke two days ago. A guard had died in violence. Some said Jackson was upset at the thought of such a horrible incident under his watch. There were others who had a conspiracy theory that Jackson was the whole thing to get rid of the guy for unknown reasons without having to deal with an investigation from the Office Department.

Jackson was a short, strong man with a bald brow. It would be confused with a shop clerk or restaurant server, except that the ugly scar, ran the right cheek was proof of a much darker character. He cut his teeth as an artillery sergeant in the wars and joined the police after leaving the active service. He specifically asked for a job in the prison office and was granted without great difficulty, thanks to his powers of war. Now he leads the colony lunar prison, where the worst criminals are sent to the ground to bring about life sentences. Jackson ran a tight boat and had an excellent record. No one has managed to escape from his prison for the time.

Jeff Rhodes a.k.a. Prisoner #3092 in the colony Lunar prison, lay in his bed in his cell with his palms shaved behind his head and look through the glass ceiling. Beyond this reinforced, unbreakable glass ceiling were stars, distant galaxies, and the dark space that seemed to extend to eternity. Somewhere, probably outside the small window that the upper limit in its containment cell offered him, a beautiful blue marble called planet Earth turned around. Jeff Rhodes dreamed all the time. If everything were to go according to his plan, he would be happy to leave this forgotten place of the house on the way to Earth in less than twenty-four hours.

He turned to his side and grabbed a figure in the shadows, stood at the door and stared at him. He was able to make Jackson's unmistakable outline in the dark, as he was almost as a wax. Jeff closed his eyes and mentally to run through the sequence of his escape plan for the tenth time. He did not know when fatigue took care of his body and when he slept.

Full volume alarms. Flashing. The prisoners are queuing for a nominal call. Jeff avoided visual contact with Jackson and the other guards. He sat alone at breakfast, looking from time to time to count the number of guards. He knew that one of the guards had gone on a special license and had the Earth last week because of the unexpected death of his wife. Jeff had worried about killing another guard during the riots last week. The reinforcements sent from the table were forwarded and would take two more days to reach the lunar base. In the meantime, Jackson's personal team would be wrong. Jeff counted on it. He hoped that no one would notice that he escaped after breakfast when the prisoners were sent back to their cells.

 

 

The alarm called and the prisoners rose from their places and presented themselves in two rows. One of the guards said to move into the cell block. The captives of their orange monkeys began to go. Jeff had carefully his breakfast-table, so he was against the end of the line with only a few men behind him with the rear guards as a result. The prisoners had to navigate two sharp curves and Jeff intended to escape between these two turns and hide in a wall he had identified. The challenge was to do this without the knowledge of the other prisoners and the rear guards.

The most important prisoners made the first turning to the right. Jeff coughed and stayed temporarily while the rear guards looked up. He avoids finding them in the eyes and allowed the other two prisoners behind him to go the last position on the track. The guards did not notice and seemed relaxed and engaged in trivial jokes. He was now only a few steps from the first round to himself. Jeff walked around and sped up his pace. Tiny drops of sweat were formed on the head and crashed on the dragon tattooed on his neck. The rear guards were invisible and were at least ten paces behind him. Another four seconds... and it would reach the wall cavity.

As soon as he arrived there, Jeff deftly moved on the side and got offered in the small room through the cavity of the wall and hid in the dark. I heard the footsteps of the guards. Jeff was very aware of all his senses and the weather seemed to slow down while he waited with bated to breathe. I could see the rear guards. He waited there for a minute, then feet his way into the Bay of traffic. He came to the door. There was not much time left. A check is made after all prisoners enter their respective cells and their escape is discovered. I had to be on my way before.

He pulled the key out of his pocket... The key he had taken from the vigil during the riots. Opened the door of the Bay of traffic. I almost made it. A few minutes away from freedom. I felt it.

A steel coffin ready for shipping was in the middle of dimly lit room. The coffin kept the corpse of the guard he had killed. He was destined to go on Earth on the next robotic cargo ship of the lunar prison colony. Jeff thanked the mentality designer of the steel coffin, making it big enough to fit two bodies. Of course, I didn't know or cared about it being designed to save costs.

I could see the charge light flickering in a short distance as it approached Kai. Quickly he entered the coffin, next to the embalmed corpse and closed the clasp. As soon as the freighter moves, it would be clear to leave the coffin. Each coffin had an unlocking arrangement from inside if someone accidentally locked it. I was ready to bear this little agony with the corpse until the charge was on the way.

The doors of Pod Bay Open and the cargo ship completes the mooring maneuver. The coffin moved after the cargo and the doors closed. A few seconds later the cargo landed and slipped off the lunar prison colony.

Swami Vivekananda ( Secret of Work ) UNIT -III ,II

UNIT III:

The world is full of misery and physical help alone cannot cure it. Until and unless the nature of manchanges, the misery cannot be completely eliminated by any physical help. In his opinion, the only soluis to make people free of misery, people pure, spiritually strong and educated. Then only misery will stop in the world.
Swami Vivekananda describes the kind of work as the mixture of good and evil. Good and evil both make a chain that connects Alma. We must work with a spirit of non-attachment to him so that we can work as a teacher and not as a slave. After the Bhagavad Gita we have to work constantly, but we must not stick to it. Every work we do, every movement of our body and every thought we think about leaving an impression on the mind. They work in the subconscious and ultimately determine our character. It's called Samskara.
He likened the man to the turtle. The turtle will be in the feet, the head in the shell, and will not come out even if you break the shell into pieces. In the same way, the character of the man who has control over his thoughts and facts would remain as an established, immutable character. He controls his own powers and nothing can take him against his will.
Through this continuous reflection of good thoughts and good impressions, which is on the surface of the mind, the tendency to do well will be stronger. As a result, we will be able to control the Indriyas (sensory organs). This is how the character of Man is formed and only a man of character can get the truth.
He pointed out a theory that did not plant in work because good work and bad work make the soul stick to work. He makes us work as slaves, not as a teacher. Once we separate ourselves from the work of the selfish slave, we can receive love and be free. Real life makes us "separate".
The two main ways in which we can work without waiting for something, in return, are to love the world and become a donor without any thought feedback. Attachment only comes when we wait for a return.
Swami Vivekananda said: «Work, but do not let the act or think produce a deep impression on your mind.» He says that the Lord himself works incessantly, but never without attachment.


UNIT II:

Is Progress Real?

The essay "Is Real Progress" is written by William Durant. He believes that it is dye of evil with good in our advances in science and technology. We invent a lot of things that give us comfort. But we use them to make crimes easier and to kill others. Modern people have not used comfort and amenities in a meaningful way.
Modern men have found various methods in modern medicine that are useful for cures and incisions for various diseases. We welcome your efforts if you do not bring any worse side effects than the disease. We are grateful for the added years that medical science gives us, if they are not serious extensions of illness, disability and sadness. Now we have developed to signal the events of the day and the planet, but we envy the peace of our ancestors.
We are unable to abandon the instincts of struggle and to worsen our civilisation in greed, crime and promiscuity. To avoid them, there must be moral and ethical development among people. We must not ask for progress to be made. There are obviously failures, just as there are times of failure, fatigue and recovery in an evolving individual. We must take all these steps. In ancient times there was a high rate of infant mortality. But now we are able to prolong our lives. Our advances in science have helped us grow enough food and send hundreds of grains of wheat to the needy nations.
Some valuable achievements such as fire-making, wheel and other basic tools, language, arts, agriculture, family and parental care, social organization and the use of teachings, tradition of conveying the family and race are some of the Elements of civilization and those maintained by the passage from one civilization to another.

Durant realizes the valuable benefits of the spread of higher education. If education is the transfer of civilization, we will progress. For each child to have education up to at least his twentieth year, and there must be free access to universities, libraries and museums giving information on ancient heritage and culture. This knowledge helps to broaden the understanding of man, the control of the environment, the decorating and the enjoyment of life.