Lessons
Shaped History
Shaped History: Understanding the Forces Behind Our Past and Present History is much more than a record of dates and events. It is a constantly evolving narrative, shaped by countless factors that work together to define the fate of civilizations, nations, and cultures. From natural forces to human ambition, history is not made by accident — it is shaped through interactions between people, environments, ideas, and innovations.
By Oluwatosin Adesoba11 months ago in History
Florida's Elusive Bigfoot and the Mystery Behind its Existence
The Skunk Ape is little known but is a creature strange enough to be known as the Bigfoot of Florida, as sightings have been reported for decades. Described as an enormous, hairy beast, standing seven feet tall and tipping the scales at up to 500 pounds, it has captured the imagination of residents and visitors alike.
By Rohitha Lanka11 months ago in History
The Thousand and One Nights Tales from the Arab World and India
The Thousand and One Nights, or the Arabian Nights, is an expansive compilation of folk tales stretching out over generations. The best known version is a sort of compendium of tales of diverse provenance, from the Middle East to India, and is often credited with popularizing stories like Aladdin, Ali Baba, and Sindbad the Sailor, tales that have all but become synonymous with Western folklore.
By Rohitha Lanka11 months ago in History
The Rise and Fall of the Mughal Empires
One of the most remarkable empires in world history, the Mughal Empire spread across the Indian subcontinent from the early years of the 16th century. At its height, it ruled almost the entire Indian subcontinent, with access to immense riches and military strength.
By Rohitha Lanka11 months ago in History
Turkey's Underworld
What Is Derinkuyu All About Derinkuyu's Underground City Discovering An Underground City Beneath Cappadocia Nestled in Turkey’s Cappadocia region is a city so enigmatic that it had been lost to history for centuries. And Derinkuyu, buried 18 stories beneath the surface, is as much of an archaeological feat as it is a tale of survival, adaptation, and the mysteries of a lost civilization.
By Rohitha Lanka11 months ago in History
The Story of Ramayana (Short and Simplified)
1. The Beginning: Vishnu’s Promise Long ago, Swayambhu Manu , the first human being, performed intense penance (tapasya ) for 1,000 years to please Lord Vishnu. When Vishnu appeared, Manu expressed his desire to have Vishnu as his son. Vishnu agreed but explained that he would incarnate on Earth whenever Dharma (righteousness) was threatened by evil forces. He declared:
By Sujeet M Sonar11 months ago in History
Sadiq on the Path of Islam
A boy named Sadiq was born in a small village. His family was very poor, but his life had a rare peace and unusual beauty. Sadiq's father was an Imam, and his mother was a respectable woman who prayed to Allah every morning before the sun rose. At a young age, Sadiq always remembered Allah's name, but in his mind, he was asked, This was a deep problem in Sadiq's heart, and he began to leave his beloved village and go to the city. He wanted to learn how to go on the path of Islam. One day, he asked for permission from his parents and decided to go to a mosque in the city.
By AMINUL ISLAM ZIHAD11 months ago in History
The Rose Garden . Content Warning.
Jack, If only things were different, if only you could see how much I love you. I know about the affair Jack, I know about all of them. And the thing is I walk around taking pictures with you, smiling at the adoring fans you have amassed. Do they know Jack? Do they know that the life we have built, the good that we have done was me? Does anyone know what your life would be without me? What YOU would be without me?
By Raine Fielder11 months ago in History
The philosophy of punishment and justice
It raises fundamental questions about the nature of justice, the goals of punishment, and the ethical foundations of legal systems. The theories surrounding punishment reflect varying ideals of justice, aiming either to deter crime, rehabilitate offenders, or exact retribution.
By Badhan Sen11 months ago in History
Yours, Always. AI-Generated.
#WHY DISTANCE CAN NEVER FADE TRUE LOVE ! April 15th, 1942 England's London Thomas, my dearest, The days feel longer without you here. Since you left for the front, the city is different. The streets are quieter, the skies darker, and every time the sirens wail, I hold my breath and whisper a prayer — not just for our city, but for you. I keep your photograph by my bedside, the one we took by the river last summer. I often touch the corner of it, as though by doing so, I can feel your hand again. Do you remember that day? The sun was high, and you made me laugh so hard that I spilled my tea. Those moments feel so distant now, like another life. Mother is well, though she worries about you just as much as I do. She knits scarves for the soldiers, hoping one might reach you. I’ve taken up helping at the community shelter, handing out bread and tea to those who have lost their homes in the bombings. Even though it keeps me busy, my heart stays with you. Please write soon. Even the smallest word from you would mean the world to me. Yours, always, Elizabeth --- May 2nd, 1942 Somewhere in France My Sweet Elizabeth, Your letter was a light in this dark place. I read it over and over, imagining your voice with every word. It made me remember the river too — the way your hair danced in the breeze, the way you scolded me for making you laugh too much. If I close my eyes, I can almost feel that day again. Love, things are hard here. The nights are cold, and the days are loud with the sounds of war. We march through fields and sleep in trenches, and though I am surrounded by men, I have never felt more alone. But your letter — your words — they remind me why I fight. für Sie. For us. I carry the handkerchief you gave me in my coat pocket. It smells faintly of lavender still, though the scent fades a little more each day. It’s a small piece of home I refuse to let go of. Tell your mother I am grateful for her scarves — I hope one reaches me. Tell her I promise to come home to you both, no matter how long it takes. With every beat of my heart, Thomas --- October 18th, 1943 England's London Thomas, my dearest, The sky appears permanently gray as the days get shorter and colder. Another winter is coming, and I worry about you more with each passing day. Are you cozy? Do you consume enough food? I lie awake at night and wonder where you are, if you’re safe. I learned of a battle near the town from which you last wrote. I held my breath, waiting for the telegram boy to pass our door, praying he would not stop. He didn't, but I never forget the fear. I still walk to the river sometimes. It’s quieter now, fewer people, but I sit by the same bench where we once laughed and dreamed of the future. I talk to you there, whispering into the wind, hoping somehow you hear me. Write to me when you can. Even a single word will ease my heart. Forever yours, Elizabeth --- December 9th, 1943 Somewhere in Belgium My Beloved Elizabeth, I am alive. I am safe — for now. I know you must have worried when the news came of the battle, but I made it through. The loss of many of my friends that did not comes with a heavy burden. Your letter was a comfort. Knowing you still sit by our river, still speak to me there, makes me feel less far away. I wish I could be there with you, holding your hand, promising you that this war will end soon. But I can't lie: I have no idea when that time will come. We march on, through snow and mud, but I keep moving forward with the thought of you. I picture you in your coat by the river, waiting for me, and it gives me strength. My love, hold on. I will come back to you. Yours until my last breath, Thomas --- May 7th, 1945 England's London Thomas, my dearest, The conflict is over. People are singing, crying, and embracing strangers again on London's streets, but all I can do is wait by our window and watch the road in the hope that you will return to me. I have heard nothing from you in months. No letters, no word. I am trying not to fear the worst, but it is hard. Every soldier I see returning home makes my heart race — is this the moment I see you again? Please, if you are alive, write to me. Inform me of your upcoming return. I cannot bear the thought of this joy all around me if you are not here to share it. Forever waiting, Elizabeth --- May 20th, 1945 England's London My Dearest Elizabeth, I am coming home. I write this from a small hospital in France, where I have been recovering from an injury since March. I'm so sorry I couldn't get in touch with you sooner; I can only imagine how scared you must have been. However, I am alive and healing. And now, I am coming back to you. I think of the river, of our bench, and of you standing there with the wind in your hair. I will be there beside you again soon — not in a dream, but in life. Now that the war is over, we can finally begin our life together. Hold me in your heart a little longer, my love. I am almost home. Forever yours, Thomas.
By Samiha Bushra 11 months ago in History
