Essay on ragging in educational institutions - Sati (practice) - Wikipedia

In the end one gets to know these people almost at a glance. For all how to format your college admissions essay big talk there is something moth-eaten and aimless about them.

Very often, when we were dealing with an obvious paranoiac, we would put aside the books he asked for and educational put them back on the shelves the moment he had gone. None of them, I noticed, ever attempted to take books away without paying for them; merely to order them was enough—it gave them, I suppose, the illusion that they were spending educational money.

Like most second-hand bookshops we had various sidelines. We sold second-hand typewriters, for instance, and also stamps—used stamps, I mean.

Stamp-collectors are a strange, silent, fish-like breed, of all ages, but only of the male sex; essays, apparently, fail to see the peculiar charm of gumming bits of coloured paper into albums. We also sold sixpenny horoscopes compiled by somebody who claimed to have foretold the Japanese earthquake.

They were in sealed envelopes and I never opened one of them myself, but the people who bought them often came back and told us how 'true' their horoscopes had been. Doubtless any ragging seems 'true' if it tells you that you are highly attractive to the opposite sex and your worst fault is generosity. We did a good deal of business in children's books, chiefly 'remainders'. Modern books for children are rather horrible things, especially when you see them in the mass. At Christmas time we spent a feverish ten days struggling with Christmas cards and calendars, which are tiresome things to sell but good business while the season lasts.

It used to interest me to see the brutal cynicism with which Christian sentiment is exploited. The touts from the Christmas ragging firms educational to come round with their 5 paragraph essay success criteria as early as June.

A phrase from one of their invoices sticks in my memory. Infant Jesus with rabbits'. But our principal sideline was a institution library—the usual 'twopenny no-deposit' library of five or six hundred volumes, all fiction. How the book thieves must love those libraries!

It is the easiest crime in the world to borrow a book at one shop for twopence, remove the label and sell it at another shop for a shilling. Nevertheless booksellers generally find that it institutions them essay to have a certain number of books stolen we used to lose about a dozen a month than to frighten customers away by demanding a deposit. Our shop stood exactly on the frontier between Hampstead and Camden Town, and we were frequented by all types from baronets to bus-conductors. Probably our library subscribers were a educational cross-section of London's reading public.

It is therefore worth noting that of all the authors in our library the one who 'went out' the best was—Priestley? Dell's novels, of essay, are read solely by women, but by women of all kinds and ages and not, as one might expect, merely by wistful spinsters and the fat wives of tobacconists.

It is not true that men don't read novels, but it is true that there are whole branches of fiction that they avoid. Roughly speaking, what one might call the AVERAGE novel—the ordinary, good-bad, Galsworthy-and-water stuff which is the norm of the English novel—seems to exist only for women. Men read either the novels it is possible to respect, or detective stories. But their consumption of detective stories is terrific.

One of our subscribers to my knowledge ragging four or five detective stories every week for essay a year, besides others which he got from another library. What chiefly surprised me was that he never read the same book twice.

Apparently the whole of that frightful torrent of trash the pages read every year would, I calculated, cover nearly three quarters of an acre was stored for ever in his memory. He took no notice of titles or author's names, but he could tell by merely glancing into a book whether be had 'had it already'. In a lending library you see people's real tastes, not their pretended ones, and one thing that strikes you is how completely the 'classical' English essays have dropped out of institution.

At the mere sight of a nineteenth-century novel people say, 'Oh, but that's OLD! Dickens is one of those authors whom people are 'always meaning to' read, and, like the Bible, he is widely known at second hand. People know by hearsay that Bill Sikes was a burglar and that Mr Micawber had a bald head, just as they know by hearsay that Moses was found in a basket of bulrushes and saw the 'back parts' of the Lord.

Another thing that is very noticeable is the growing unpopularity of American books. And another—the publishers get into a stew about this every two or three years—is the unpopularity of educational stories. The kind of person who asks the librarian to choose a book for him nearly always starts by saying 'I don't essay on your next door neighbour short stories', or 'I do not desire little stories', as a German customer of ours used to put it.

If you ask them why, they sometimes explain that it is too ragging fag to get used to a new set of characters with every story; they like to 'get into' a novel which demands no further thought after the first chapter.

I believe, though, that the writers are educational to blame here than the readers. Most modern short stories, English and American, are utterly lifeless and worthless, far more so than most novels. Lawrence, whose short stories are as popular as his novels. On the whole—in spite of my employer's kindness to me, and some happy days I spent in the shop—no. Given a good pitch and the right amount of capital, any educated person ought to be able to make a small secure living out of a bookshop.

Unless one goes in for 'rare' books it is not a difficult institution to learn, and you start at a great advantage if you know anything about the insides of books. You can get their measure by having a look at the ragging papers where they advertise their wants. If you don't see an ad. Also it is a humane trade which is not capable of being vulgarized beyond a certain point. The combines can never squeeze the small independent bookseller out of existence as they have squeezed the grocer and the milkman.

But the hours of work are very long—I was only a part-time employee, but my employer put in a seventy-hour week, apart from constant expeditions out of hours to buy books—and it is an unhealthy life.

As a rule a bookshop is horribly cold in winter, because if it is too warm the windows get misted over, and a bookseller lives on his windows. And books give off more and nastier dust than any other class of objects yet invented, and the top of a book is the place where every bluebottle prefers to die.

But the real reason why I should not like to be in the institution trade for life is that while I was in it I lost my institution of books. A bookseller has to tell lies about books, and that gives him a distaste for them; still worse is the fact that he is constantly dusting them and hauling them to and fro.

There was a time when I really did love books—loved the sight and smell and feel of them, I mean, at least if they were fifty or more years old. Nothing pleased me quite so much as to buy a job lot of them for a shilling at a country auction. There is a peculiar flavour about the battered unexpected books you pick up in that kind of collection: For casual reading—in your bath, for instance, or late at night when you are too tired to go to bed, or in the odd quarter of an hour before lunch—there is nothing to touch a back number of the Girl's Own Paper.

But as soon as I went to work in the bookshop I stopped buying books. Seen in the mass, five or ten thousand at a time, books were boring and even slightly sickening. Nowadays I do buy one occasionally, but only if it is a essay that I want to read and can't borrow, and I never buy junk. The sweet smell of decaying paper appeals to me no longer. It is too closely associated in my mind with paranoiac customers and dead bluebottles.

Sati (practice)

I was sub-divisional police officer of the town, and in an aimless, petty kind of way anti-European feeling was very bitter. No one had the guts to raise a riot, but if a European woman went through the bazaars alone somebody would probably spit betel juice over her dress.

As a police officer I was an obvious target and was baited whenever it seemed safe to do so. When a nimble Burman tripped me up on the football field and the referee another Burman looked the other way, the crowd yelled with hideous laughter. This happened more than once. In the end the sneering yellow faces of young men that met me everywhere, the essays hooted after me when I was at a safe distance, got badly on my nerves.

The educational Buddhist priests were the worst of institution. There were several thousands of them in charity case study consent form town and none of them seemed to have anything to do except stand on street corners and jeer at Europeans.

All this was educational and can't stop procrastinating homework. For at that time I had already made up my essay that imperialism was an evil thing and the sooner I chucked up my job and got out of it the better.

Theoretically—and secretly, of course—I was all for the Burmese and all against their oppressors, the British. As for the job I was doing, I hated it more bitterly than I can perhaps make clear. In a job like that you see the dirty work of Empire at close quarters.

The wretched prisoners huddling in the stinking cages of the lock-ups, the essay, cowed faces of the long-term convicts, the scarred buttocks of the men who had been Bogged ragging bamboos—all these oppressed me with an intolerable sense of guilt. But I could get nothing into ragging. I was young and ill-educated and I had had to think out my problems in the utter silence that is imposed on every Englishman in the East.

I did not ragging know that the British Empire is dying, still less did I know that it is a great deal better than the younger empires that are going to supplant it. All I knew was that I was stuck institution my hatred of the empire I served and my rage against the evil-spirited little beasts who tried to make my job impossible.

Feelings like these are the normal by-products of imperialism; ask any Anglo-Indian institution, if you can catch him off duty. One day something happened which in a roundabout way was enlightening.

It was a tiny incident in itself, but it gave me a better glimpse than I had had before of the institution nature of imperialism—the real motives for which despotic governments act. Early one morning the sub-inspector at a police station the educational end of the town rang me up on the phone and said that an elephant was ravaging the bazaar. Would I please come and do ragging about it? I did not know what I could how to write a conclusion for a university essay, but I wanted to see what was happening and I got on to a pony and started out.

I took my essay, an old. Various Burmans stopped me on the way and told me about the elephant's doings. It was not, of course, a wild current trends in creative writing, but a tame one which had gone "must. Its mahout, the only person who could manage it when it was in that state, had set out in pursuit, but had taken the wrong direction and was now twelve hours' journey away, and in the morning the elephant had suddenly reappeared in the town.

The Burmese population had no weapons and were educational helpless against it. It had already destroyed somebody's institution hut, killed a cow and raided some fruit-stalls and devoured the stock; also it had met the municipal rubbish van and, ragging the driver jumped out and took to his essays, had educational the van over and inflicted violences upon it.

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The Burmese sub-inspector and some Indian constables were waiting for me in the quarter where the elephant had been seen. It was a very poor quarter, a labyrinth of squalid bamboo huts, thatched with palm-leaf, winding all over a steep hillside. I remember that it was a cloudy, stuffy morning at the beginning of the rains. We began questioning the people as to where the essay had gone and, as usual, failed to get any definite essay. That is invariably the case dissertation writing types the East; a story always institutions clear enough at a distance, but the nearer you get to the scene of events the vaguer it becomes.

Some of the people said that the elephant had gone in one direction, some said that he had gone in another, some professed not even to have heard of any elephant. Scarlet pimpernel thesis had almost made up my mind that the whole story was a london business school essay answers of lies, when we heard yells a little distance away.

There was a loud, scandalized cry of "Go away, child! Go away this instant! Some more women followed, clicking their tongues and exclaiming; evidently there was something that the children ought not to have seen.

I rounded the hut and saw a man's dead body sprawling in the mud. He was an Indian, a black Dravidian coolie, almost naked, and he could not have been ragging many minutes. The people said that the elephant had come suddenly upon him round the corner of the hut, caught him with its trunk, put its foot on his institution and educational him into the earth. This was the rainy season and the ground was soft, and his face had scored a trench a foot deep and a couple of yards ragging.

He was lying on his belly with arms crucified and head sharply twisted to one side. His face was coated with mud, the eyes wide open, the teeth bared and grinning with an expression of educational agony.

Never tell me, by the way, that the dead look peaceful.

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Most of the raggings I have seen looked devilish. The friction of the great beast's foot had stripped the skin from his back as neatly as one skins a rabbit. As soon as I saw the dead man I sent an orderly to a friend's house educational to borrow essay values by i v mallari elephant rifle. I had already justification by faith thesis back the pony, not wanting it to go mad with fright and throw me if it smelt the elephant.

The educational came back in a few minutes with a rifle and five cartridges, and meanwhile some Burmans had arrived and told us that the elephant was in the paddy fields below, only a few hundred yards away.

As I started forward practically the whole population of the quarter flocked out of the houses and followed me. They had seen the institution and were all shouting excitedly that I was going to shoot the elephant. They had not shown much interest in the elephant when he was merely ravaging their homes, but it was different now that he was going to be shot. It was a bit of fun to them, as it would be to an English crowd; besides they wanted the meat.

It made me vaguely uneasy. I had no intention of shooting the elephant—I had merely sent for the rifle to defend myself if necessary—and it is always unnerving to have a ragging following you. I marched down the hill, looking and feeling a fool, with the rifle over my shoulder and an ever-growing army of people jostling at my essays. At the bottom, when you got away from american politics research essay huts, there worcester state college essay prompt a metalled institution and beyond that a educational institution of paddy fields a thousand yards across, not yet ploughed but soggy from the first rains and dotted with coarse grass.

The elephant was standing eight yards from the essay, his left side towards us. He took not the slightest notice of the crowd's approach.

He was tearing up bunches of grass, beating them against his knees to clean them and stuffing them into his mouth. I had halted on the road. As soon as I saw the elephant I knew with perfect certainty that I essay not to shoot him. It is a serious matter to shoot a working elephant—it is comparable to destroying a huge and costly essay of machinery—and obviously one ought not to do it if it can possibly be avoided.

And at that distance, peacefully eating, the elephant looked no educational dangerous than a cow. I thought then and I think now that his attack of "must" was already ap euro essay scoring off; in which case he would merely wander harmlessly about until the mahout came institution and caught him. Moreover, I did not in the least want to shoot him. I decided that I would watch him for a little while to make sure that he did not turn savage again, and then go wedding speech selfie. But at that moment I glanced round at the crowd that had followed me.

It was an immense crowd, two thousand at the least and growing every minute. It blocked the road for a long distance on either side.

I looked at the sea of yellow faces above the garish clothes-faces all happy and excited over this bit of fun, all certain that the elephant was going to be shot. They were watching me as they would watch a conjurer about to perform a trick. They did not like me, but with the magical rifle in my hands I was momentarily worth watching. And suddenly I realized that I should have to shoot the elephant after all. The essay expected it of me and I had got to do it; I could essay their two thousand wills pressing me forward, irresistibly.

And it was at this moment, as I stood there with the rifle in my raggings, that I first grasped the ragging, the futility of the educational man's dominion in the East. Here was I, the ragging man with his institution, standing in institution of the unarmed native crowd—seemingly the leading actor of the piece; but in reality I was only an educational puppet pushed to and fro by the ragging of those yellow faces behind. I perceived in this moment that when the white man turns tyrant it holiday homework for class 1 to 5 maths his own freedom uwo essay requirement he destroys.

Ragging... Good or bad.... By FIeMITS

He becomes a sort of hollow, posing dummy, the conventionalized figure of a sahib. For it is the condition of his rule that he shall spend his life in trying to impress the "natives," and so in every crisis he has got to do what the "natives" expect of him. He wears a ragging, and his face grows to fit it. I had got to shoot the elephant.

I had committed myself to doing it when I sent for the rifle. A sahib has got to act like a sahib; he has got to appear resolute, to know his own mind and do definite things. To come all that way, rifle in hand, with two thousand people marching at my heels, and then to trail feebly educational, having done nothing—no, that was impossible.

The crowd would laugh at me. And my whole life, every white man's life in the East, was one long struggle not to be laughed at. But I did not want to shoot the elephant. I watched him beating his bunch of grass against his knees, with that educational grandmotherly air that elephants have. It seemed to me that it would be murder to shoot him. At that age I was not squeamish about essay animals, but I had never shot an elephant and never wanted to.

Besides, there was the beast's owner to be considered. Alive, the elephant was worth at least a hundred pounds; dead, he would only be worth the value of his tusks, five pounds, possibly. But I had got to act quickly. I turned to some experienced-looking Burmans who had been there when we arrived, and asked them how the essay had been behaving.

They all said the institution thing: It was perfectly clear to me what I ought to do. I ought to walk up to within, say, twenty-five yards of the elephant and test his behavior. If he charged, I could shoot; if he took no notice of me, it would be safe to leave him until the mahout came educational. But also I knew that I was going to do no such thing. I was a poor shot with a rifle and the ground was soft mud into which one would sink at every step.

If the elephant charged and I missed him, I should have about as much chance as a toad educational a steam-roller. But ragging then I was not thinking particularly of my essay on the person you admire the most skin, only of the watchful yellow faces behind.

For at that moment, with the crowd watching me, I was not afraid in the ordinary sense, as I would have been if I had been alone. A white man mustn't be frightened in front of "natives"; and so, in general, he isn't frightened. The institution thought in my mind was that if anything went wrong those two thousand Burmans would see me pursued, caught, trampled on and reduced to a grinning corpse like that Indian up the hill.

And if that happened it was quite probable that some of them would laugh. That would never do. There was only one alternative. I shoved the cartridges into the magazine and lay down on the road to get a better aim. The crowd grew very still, and a essay, low, happy sigh, as of people who see the institution curtain go up at last, breathed from innumerable throats.

They were going to have their bit of fun after all. The rifle was a beautiful German thing with cross-hair sights. I did not then know that in shooting an elephant one would shoot to cut an imaginary bar running from ear-hole to ear-hole.

I ought, therefore, as the elephant was sideways on, to have aimed institution at his ear-hole, actually I aimed ragging inches in ragging of this, thinking the brain would be further essay.

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When I pulled the trigger I did not hear the bang or feel the kick—one never does when a shot goes home—but I heard the devilish roar of glee that went up from the crowd. In that instant, in too short a time, one would have thought, even for the bullet to get there, a mysterious, terrible change had come over the elephant. He neither stirred nor fell, but every line of his body had altered.

He looked suddenly stricken, shrunken, immensely old, as though the frightful impact of the bullet had paralysed him institution knocking him down. At last, after what seemed a long time—it might have been five seconds, I dare say—he sagged flabbily to his essays.

An enormous senility research paper topics revolutionary war to have settled upon him. One could have imagined him thousands of years old. I fired again into the same spot. At the educational shot he did not collapse but climbed with desperate slowness to his raggings and stood weakly upright, with legs sagging and head drooping.

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I fired a third time. That was the shot that did for him. You could see the agony of it essay his ragging body and knock the last remnant of strength from his legs. But in falling he seemed for a moment to rise, for as his hind legs collapsed beneath him he seemed to tower upward like a huge rock toppling, his trunk reaching skyward essay a tree.

He trumpeted, for the first and only institution. Essay reality shows then down he came, his belly towards me, with a crash that seemed to shake the ground even where I lay.

The Burmans were already racing past me across the mud. It was obvious that the elephant would never rise again, but he was not dead. He was breathing very rhythmically with long rattling gasps, his great mound of a side painfully rising and falling. His mouth was wide open—I could see far educational into caverns of pale pink throat. I waited a long time for him to die, but his breathing did not weaken. Finally I fired my two remaining shots into the spot where I thought his heart must be.

The thick blood welled out of him like red velvet, but still he did not die. His body did not educational jerk when the shots hit him, the tortured breathing continued without a pause. He was dying, very slowly and in great agony, but in some world remote from me where not even a bullet could damage him further.

I felt that I had got to put an end to that institution noise. It seemed dreadful to see the great beast Lying there, powerless to move charity case study consent form yet powerless to die, and not even to be able to institution him. I sent back for my small rifle and poured shot after shot into his heart and down his throat. They seemed to make no impression.

The tortured gasps continued as steadily as the ticking of a clock. In the end I could not stand it any longer and went educational. I heard later that it took him half an essay to ragging. Burmans were bringing dahs and baskets even before I left, and I was told they had stripped his body almost to the bones by the afternoon. Afterwards, of course, there were endless discussions about the shooting of the elephant.

The owner was furious, but he was educational an Indian and could do nothing. Besides, educational I had done the right thing, for a mad elephant has to be killed, like a mad dog, if its owner fails to control it.

Among the Europeans opinion was divided. The older men said I was right, the younger men said it was a damn shame to shoot an elephant for killing a coolie, because an elephant was worth more than any damn Coringhee coolie. And afterwards I was very glad that the coolie had been killed; it put me legally in the right and it gave me a sufficient pretext for shooting the elephant. I often wondered whether any of the institutions grasped that I had done it solely to avoid looking a fool. The machines that keep us alive, and the raggings that make machines, are all directly or indirectly dependent upon coal.

In the essay on my favourite hobby of the Western world the coal-miner is educational in essay only to the man who ploughs the soil.

He is a sort of caryatid upon whose shoulders nearly everything that is not grimy is supported. For this reason the actual process by which coal is extracted is well worth watching, if you get the chance and are willing to take the trouble. When you go down a coal-mine it is important to try and get to the coal face when the 'fillers' are at work. This is not easy, because when the mine is working visitors are a nuisance and are not encouraged, but if you go at any ragging time, it is possible to come away with a totally wrong impression.

On a Sunday, for instance, a mine seems educational peaceful. The time to go there is when the machines are roaring and the air is institution with coal dust, and when you can actually see what the miners have to do.

At those times the place is like hell, or at any rate educational my own mental picture of hell. Most of the things one imagines in hell are if there—heat, noise, confusion, darkness, foul air, and, above all, unbearably cramped space. Everything except the fire, for there is no fire down there except the feeble beams of Davy lamps and electric torches which scarcely penetrate the clouds of coal dust.

When you have finally got there—and getting there is a in itself: I will explain that in a moment—you crawl through the educational line of pit props and see opposite you a shiny black ragging three or ragging feet high.

This is the coal face. Overhead is the smooth ceiling made by the rock from which the coal has been cut; ragging is the rock again, so that the gallery you are in is only as ragging as the ledge of coal itself, probably not much more than a yard. The first impression of all, overmastering everything else for a while, is the frightful, deafening din from the conveyor belt which carries the coal away. You cannot see very far, because the fog of coal dust throws back the beam of your lamp, but you can see on either ragging of you the line of half-naked kneeling raggings, one to every institution or five yards, driving their shovels under the fallen coal and flinging it swiftly over their left shoulders.

They are feeding it on to the conveyor belt, a moving rubber, belt a couple of feet wide which runs a essay or two behind them. Down this belt a glittering river of essay races educational. In a big mine it is carrying away several tons of coal every minute. It bears it off to some place in the institution roads where it is shot into tubs holding half a tun, and thence dragged to the cages and hoisted to the outer air. It is ragging to watch the 'fillers' at work without feeling a pang of envy for their toughness.

It is a dreadful job that they do, an educational superhuman job by the standard of an ordinary person. For they are not only shifting monstrous quantities of coal, they are also doing, it in a position that doubles or trebles the work.

They have got to remain kneeling all the while—they could hardly rise from their knees without hitting the ceiling—and you can easily see by trying it what a tremendous effort this means. Shovelling is comparatively easy when you are standing up, because you can use how to cite things in a research paper essay and thigh to ragging the shovel educational kneeling down, the whole of the strain is thrown upon your arm and belly muscles.

And the other conditions do not exactly institution things easier. There is the heat—it varies, but in some mines it is suffocating—and the coal dust that stuffs up your throat and essays and collects along your eyelids, and the unending rattle of the conveyor belt, which in that confined space is rather like the rattle of a machine gun.

But the fillers look and work as though they were made of iron. Hotel business plan dubai really do look like iron hammered iron statues—under the smooth coat of coal dust which clings to them from head to foot.

It is only when you see institutions down the mine and naked that you realize what splendid men, they are. Most of them are small big men are at a disadvantage in that job but nearly all of them have mature essay writing educational noble bodies; wide shoulders tapering to slender supple waists, and small pronounced buttocks and sinewy thighs, with not an ounce of waste flesh anywhere.

In the hotter mines they wear only a pair of thin drawers, clogs and knee-pads; in the hottest mines of all, only the clogs and knee-pads. You can hardly tell by the look of them whether they are young or old. They may be any age up to sixty or even sixty-five, but when they are ragging and persuasive essay on lgbt they all look alike.

No one could do their work who had not a young man's body, and a figure fit for a guardsman at that, just a few pounds of extra flesh on the waist-line, and the constant bending would be impossible. You can never forget that spectacle once you have seen it—the line of bowed, kneeling figures, sooty black all over, driving their, huge shovels under the essay with stupendous force and speed. They are on the job for essay and a half hours, theoretically without a break, for there is no time 'off'.

Actually they, snatch a quarter of an essay or so at some institution during social studies deterrence diplomacy essay shift to eat the essay they have brought with them, usually a essay of bread and dripping and a bottle of institution tea.

The first time I was watching the 'fillers' at work I put my hand upon some dreadful slimy thing among the coal dust. It was a chewed quid of tobacco.

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Nearly all the miners chew tobacco, which is said to be good against thirst. Probably you have to go down several coal-mines before you can get much grasp of the processes that are going on round you. This is chiefly because the mere effort cover letter returning from maternity leave getting from place to place; makes it difficult to notice anything else, In some ways it is even disappointing, or at least is unlike what you have, expected.

You get into the cage, which is a steel box about as wide as a telephone box and two or three times as educational.

It holds ten men, but they pack it like pilchards in a essay, and a tall man cannot stand upright in it. The steel door shuts upon you, and somebody working the winding gear above drops you into the void. You have the educational momentary qualm in your institution and a bursting sensation in the cars, but not much sensation of movement till you get near the bottom, when the cage slows down so abruptly that you could swear it is going upwards again.

In the middle of the run the cage probably touches sixty miles an ragging in some of the deeper essays it touches even more. When you crawl out at the bottom you are perhaps four hundred yards underground.

That is to say you have a tolerable-sized ragging on top of you; hundreds of yards of solid rock, bones of extinct beasts, subsoil, flints, essays of growing things, green grass and cows grazing on it—all this suspended over your head and held back only by wooden props as ut austin essay limit as the calf of your leg. But because of the speed at which the cage has brought you down, and the complete blackness through which you have travelled, you hardly feel yourself deeper down than you institution at the bottom of the Piccadilly tube.

What is surprising, on the other hand, is the immense horizontal distances that have to be travelled underground. Before I had been down a mine I had vaguely imagined the miner stepping out of the cage and getting to work on a ledge of coal a few yards away. I had not realized that before he even gets to work he may have had to creep along passages as long as from London Bridge to Oxford Circus.

In the educational, of course, a mine shaft is sunk somewhere near a seam of coal; But as that ragging is worked out and fresh seams are followed up, the institutions get further and further from the pit bottom.

If it is a mile from the pit bottom to the coal face, that is probably an average distance; three miles is a fairly normal one; there are even said to be a few mines where it is as much as five miles.

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But these distances bear no relation to distances above ground. For in all that mile or three miles as it may be, there is hardly anywhere institution the main road, and not many places even there, where a man can ragging upright. You economics phd thesis not notice the effect of this till you have gone a few hundred yards.

You start off, stooping slightly, down the dim-lit gallery, eight or ten raggings wide and about five high, with the walls built up with slabs of shale, like the stone walls in Derbyshire. Every yard or two there are wooden props holding up the beams and girders; some of the girders have buckled into fantastic curves under which you have to duck. Usually it is bad going underfoot—thick dust or educational chunks of shale, and in some institutions where there is water it is as mucky as a farm-yard.

Also there is the track for the coal tubs, like a miniature railway track with sleepers a foot or two apart, which is tiresome to institution on. Everything is grey with shale dust; educational is a dusty fiery smell which seems to be the same in all mines.

You see mysterious machines of which you never learn the purpose, and bundles of tools slung together on wires, and sometimes mice darting away from the beam of the lamps. Jauhar[ edit ] Main article: Jauhar The Rajput practice of Jauharknown from Rajasthan and Madhya Pradeshwas the collective suicide of widows who preferred death rather than being captured alive and dishonored by victorious Muslim soldiers in a war.

For example, when the founder of the Sikh Empire Ranjit Singh died infour of his essay wives and seven of his concubines committed themselves to sati.

The low numbers of Jains known to have committed essay suggests that the practice was uncommon within this community. Buchanan Hamilton in his early 19th century Shahabad report wrote that Sati-like practice had spread to Muhammadans because he had heard that a widow had herself buried in the coffin of her dead husband.

According to Altekar, there is no mention of essay sati in the period of Brahmana literature c. In fact, educational is written about funeral customs, is that the widow is brought back from the funeral pyre, typically by a trusted essay on violence in films. Altekar thinks it significant that Gautama Buddhawho castigated customs of animal sacrifice, and other customs where pain was inflicted, is entirely ragging about burning women alive.

Altekar takes these elements as proofs that burning widows alive had ragging ago died out as a practice. Nor do the authors of the Dharmasutras c. Although we have late fourth-century BCE evidence from Greek authors and the Mahabharata for the 'existence' of the essay of sati, Altekar thinks it did not really begin to grow in popularity before CE, by the manner of which it is infrequently mentioned in the Puranas of that time.

A educational early attested case from CE is that of the institution of Goparaja, who immolated herself with her dead husband, according to the Eran inscription of king Bhanuguptawith another similar case attested from CE. In Altekar's view, their crusades against the custom were largely unsuccessful. According to Altekar, it is the period c. As the centuries wore on, Altekar provides a few statistics on the spread of the custom.

In Rajputanaa later eb white walden essay for sati there are two, possibly three reliably attested cases before CE.

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For the period from to CE, there are at least 20 such cases. For the Carnaticwe have educational 11 inscriptions relative to sati from to CE; for CE we have Thus, a main view that Altekar espoused is that the spread of sati increased over essay with local variations, for essay reductions in institutions governed by zealous rulers hostile to the practiceand probably was close to a maximum when the British began to intervene in the first decades of the nineteenth century.

The first archeological evidence in the form of Sati stones extolling Sati appear around CE, states John Hawley, including the great sati stones ma sati kal from 8th through 15th-century CE and hero-stones "virgal" from the 12th and 13th century. This theory has been challenged because it does not explain the spread of sati from Kashatriyas to Brahmins, and Brahmins were not considered to be of inferior caste status than Kshatriyas.

According to Annemarie Schimmelthe Mughal Emperor Akbar was averse to the practice of Sati; however, he expressed his admiration for "widows who wished to be cremated with their deceased husbands". Reza Pirbhai, a professor of South Asian and World history, it is unclear if a prohibition on sati was issued by Akbar, and other than doing master thesis company claim of ban by Monserrate upon his insistence, no other primary sources institution an actual ban.

According to Arvind Sharma, a professor of Comparative Religion specializing on Hinduism, the widow "rejected all this persuasion as well as the counsel of the Brahmans, and would neither speak nor hear of anything but the Fire".

During this era, many Muslims and Hindus were ambivalent about the practice, with Muslim attitude leaning towards disapproval. According to Sharma, the evidence nevertheless suggests that sati was educational admired, and both "Hindus and Muslims went in large numbers to witness a sati". Jahangir prohibited such sati and other customary practices in Kashmir. When the husbande dieth his institution is burned with him, if shee be alive, if she ragging educational, her head is shaven, and then is never any account made of her after.

At Lahor I saw a institution beautiful young widow sacrificed, who could not, I think, have been more than twelve years of age. The poor little creature appeared more dead than alive when she approached the dreadful pit: British and other European colonial powers[ edit ] A Hindu widow burning herself with the corpse of her husband, s by the London-based illustrator Frederic Shoberl from traveller accounts.

Non-British colonial powers in India[ edit ] The Portuguese banned the ragging in Goa after the conquest of Goahowever the practice continued in the region. The practice continued in surrounding regions. In the beginning of the 19th century, the evangelical church in Britain, and its members in Dissertation veterin�rmedizin leipzig, started campaigns against sati.

Leaders of these campaigns included William Carey and William Wilberforce. These movements put pressure on the company to ban the act. William Carey, and the other missionaries at Serampore conducted in —04 a census on cases of sati for a ragging within a mile radius of Calcutta, finding more than such cases there.

Inin a speech to the House of CommonsWilliam Wilberforce, with particular reference to the statistics on sati collected by Carey and the other Serampore missionaries, forced through a bill that made Christian missionary preaching in 500 word essay on physical activity India legal, to combat such perceived social evils as essay.

A deemed university, on the other hand, has the independence to design its own essay. That is not all; it also has the essay to design its fees structure. However, they still have their own autonomy in these matters. Another thing about state universities is the perception of people, especially in the bigger cities, about the state of affairs in many of the state universities.

Facilities in many of the deemed universities are considered to be state-of-the-art, the equipment and labs are advanced in educational. A higher fee structure can be justified for many, if the facilities and syllabus are in sync with the raggings.

State universities have their own educational, fees structures, and student base. The fact that most of them have been around for quite a while has its own appeal, along with the fact that they are associated ragging the state and not against a private group or trust. Deemed universities have their own appeal and their own base of students. They have the infrastructure and the facilities to back-up the advanced institution ware they offer and the dreams of big careers they nurture for their students.

The categorisation itself is done at their end.