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Showing posts from 2016

Review of Today's Workshop: Content Sharing Website and Mobile App: Digital India Cell

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Today we attended a WORKSHOP: Content Sharing Website and Mobile App: Digital India Cell which was organized by our University MKBU. Firstly DR. Dilip Barad introduced us about the workshop and after this he requested VC Sir [Dr.Shailesh  Zala] of our university and handover the stage to him after this our VC talked about the purpose of this workshop and after introducing the purpose he facilitated Dr. Mahesh Jivani ( guest speaker) with flower bouquet . This workshop is all about WEBSITE creation and also about how to create an android app. While discussing he gave an example of PIZZA because according to him creating website is like Pizza because when we ordered pizza it is in square box, but when we open that box that pizza is in round shape and when we are going to eat that pizza it is in triangle. As same as creating a website is also like this when we are going to create a website then it looks something and when we started creating that website then it is something

"My Last Duchess" By Robert Browning

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I Read this text at my Graduation. This poem is loosely based on historical events involving Alfonso, the Duke of Ferrara , who lived in the 16th century. The Duke is the speaker of the poem, and tells us he is entertaining ambassadors who have come to discuss the Duke’s next marriage to the daughter of another powerful family. As he shows the visitor through his palace, he stops before a portrait of the late Duchess, apparently a young and lovely girl. The Duke be gins recollecting about the portrait sessions, then about the Duchess herself. He claims she flirted with everyone and did not appreciate his “gift of a nine-hundred-years- old name.”   As the poem continues, the reader realizes that the Duke in fact caused the Duchess’s early death: when her behavior becomes worse. After showing the portrait, the Duke talks about the arrangement of another marriage, with another young girl. As the Duke and the ambassadors walk leave the painting behind, the Duke points out othe

Tonight I can write by Pablo Neruda

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I Read this poetry at my Graduation Tonight I can write the saddest lines. Write, for example,'The night is shattered and the blue stars shiver in the distance.' The night wind revolves in the sky and sings. Tonight I can write the saddest lines. I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too. Through nights like this one I held her in my arms I kissed her again and again under the endless sky. She loved me sometimes, and I loved her too. How could one not have loved her great still eyes. Tonight I can write the saddest lines. To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her. To hear the immense night, still more immense without her. And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture. What does it matter that my love could not keep her. The night is shattered and she is not with me. This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance. My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her. My sight searches for her

Gulliver's Travels by Jonathan Swift

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Gulliver goes on four separate voyages in   Gulliver's Travels . Each journey is preceded by a storm. All four voyages bring new perspectives to Gulliver's life and new opportunities for satirizing the ways of England. First Voyage(land of Lilliput's) The first voyage is to Lilliput , where Gulliver is huge and the   Lilliputians   are small. At first the Lilliputians seem amiable, but the reader soon sees them for the ridiculous and petty creatures they are. Gulliver is convicted of treason for "making water" in the capital (even though he was putting out a fire and saving countless lives)--among other "crimes." Second Voyage (Land of Giants) The second voyage is to Brobdingnag , a land of Giants where Gulliver seems as small as the Lilliputians were to him. Gulliver is afraid, but his keepers are surprisingly gentle. He is humiliated by the King when he is made to see the difference between how England is and how it ough

Fable of the Mermaid and the Drunks - Poem by Pablo Neruda

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I read this text at my Graduation Level   Original Poem by Pablo Neruda All those men were there inside, when she came in totally naked. They had been drinking: they began to spit. Newly come from the river, she knew nothing. She was a mermaid who had lost her way. The insults flowed down her gleaming flesh. Obscenities drowned her golden breasts. Not knowing tears, she did not weep tears. Not knowing clothes, she did not have clothes. They blackened her with burnt corks and cigarette stubs, and rolled around laughing on the tavern floor. She did not speak because she had no speech. Her eyes were the color of distant love, her twin arms were made of white topaz. Her lips moved, silent, in a coral light, and suddenly she went out by that door. Entering the river she was cleaned, shining like a white stone in the rain, and without looking back she swam again swam towards emptiness, swam towards death.   ‘ The Fable of the Mermaid and the Drunks

"Happy Prince" By Oscar Wilde

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A statue of a prince is placed in the middle of the city, he at one time, was a real prince. He was happy when alive, because he was kept ignorant of any sadness or suffering outside his palace walls. His life was one of joy. And then he died. Upon his death, a statue was made depicting him which was covered in gold, had beautiful sapphires for eyes, and a ruby attached to   his sword-gilt. Because of the value society places on gold and jewels, he was thought to be quite beautiful. He is adored by all who see him. Unfortunately for the statue, his placement atop a high hill allows him to witness, for the first time, the pain and misery experienced by the poor of the city, of whom he had remained ignorant. The statue, once happy, now weeps with sadness to learn the poor condition of so many who have so little. A self-serving swallow arrives to take shelter beneath this statue and eventually becomes touched by the statue's kindness and desire to help others. He become

The Solitary Reaper by William Wordsworth

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Original Poem by William Wordsworth Behold her, single in the field,  Yon solitary Highland Lass!  Reaping and singing by herself;  Stop here, or gently pass!  Alone she cuts and binds the grain,  And sings a melancholy strain;  O listen! for the Vale profound  Is overflowing with the sound.  No Nightingale did ever chaunt  More welcome notes to weary bands  Of travellers in some shady haunt,  Among Arabian sands:  A voice so thrilling ne'er was heard  In spring-time from the Cuckoo-bird,  Breaking the silence of the seas  Among the farthest Hebrides.  Will no one tell me what she sings?—  Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow  For old, unhappy, far-off things,  And battles long ago:  Or is it some more humble lay,  Familiar matter of to-day?  Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain,  That has been, and may be again?  Whate'er the theme, the Maiden sang  As if her song could have no ending;  I saw her singing at her

"Ode to Nightingale" by John Keats

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Some Information about Poet John Keats, who died at the age of twenty-five, had perhaps the most remarkable career of any English poet. He published only fifty-four poems, in three slim volumes and a few magazines. But at each point in his development he took on the challenges of a wide range of poetic forms from the sonnet, to the Spenserian romance, to the Miltonic epic, defining anew their possibilities with his own distinctive fusion of earnest energy, control of conflicting perspectives and forces, poetic self-consciousness, and, occasionally, dry ironic wit. In the case of the English ode he brought its form, in the five great odes of 1819, to its most perfect definition. Original Poem by John Keats My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains           My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,  Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains           One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk:  'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot,           But