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Showing posts with label Story of ancient. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Story of ancient. Show all posts

Thursday, August 16, 2018

August 16, 2018

God's Promise


God's Promise

You have probably seen your children's eyes light up at receiving a present. How excited would they be to get a present directly from God ?

God already has a present to offer your children. And you can be the one who helps them discover it.

God has left all his children many promises through his Word as gifts that flow from his goodness and love. Each one is backed up by his power and trustworthy character, so we can be confident in them.
This book, for you and your children to read together, will help them learn these promises and put their own confidence in them. Each chapter looks at a new promise and explores it in the context of a Bible story.

God has left his promise with his people so they can trust him . . . and through these pages your children can trust him too. god is that beautiful filing in the world god is the nature Crater god is that prude of humans
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Sunday, August 12, 2018

August 12, 2018

Great Serpent Mound

This 1,300-foot earthwork shaped like an undulating snake swallowing an egg was first spotted by European settlers in 1812, and left undisturbed until the Smithsonian sent two surveyors out to map the site in the 1840s. The Great Serpent Mound has been the subject of study ever since. But while scholars agree it was built by prey-Colombian peoples, they disagree on who and when.

They also can’t decide on on the mound’s purpose, with some claiming it was a vast tomb, and others suggesting it had an astronomical purpose. is God that is grate us is nice that 



The Great Serpent Mound in southern Ohio is one of the few surviving relics of the mound builders. It is a 1,330-foot-long, three-foot-high prehistoric effigy mound. The earliest records say it was a depiction of a serpent that was swallowing an egg. One of the more interesting theories as to the origin of the shape is that it represents an explanation of the phases of the moon, by the representation of a snake swallowing it. In 1909, local German Baptist minister Landon West proposed another unusual theory: the serpent was writhing in its death throes as punishment for tempting Adam and Eve in what West believed was the original Garden of Eden.
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Thursday, August 9, 2018

August 09, 2018

The Princess and the God


The Princess and the God

In India, in the time of legend, there lived a king with many wives but not one child. Morning and evening for eighteen years, he faced the fire on the sacred altar and prayed for the gift of children

Finally, a shining goddess rose from the flames

“I am Savitri, child of the Sun. By your prayers, you have won a daughter.
Within a year, a daughter came to the king and his favorite wife. He named her Savitri, after the goddes
Beauty and intelligence were the princess Savitri’s, and eyes that shone like the sun. So splendid was she, people thought she herself was a goddess. Yet, when the time came for her to marry, no man asked for her.

Her father told her, “Weak men turn away from radiance like yours. Go out and find a man worthy of you. Then I will arrange the marriage.”
In the company of servants and councilors, Savitri traveled from place to place. After many days, she came upon a hermitage by a river crossing. Here lived many who had left the towns and cities for a life of prayer and study.

Savitri entered the hall of worhip and bowed to the eldest teacher. As they spoke, a young man with shining eyes came into the hall. He guided another man, old and blind.




“Who is that young man?” asked Savitri softly

“That is Prince Satyavan,” said the teacher, with a smile. “He guides his father, a king whose realm was conquered. It is well that Satyavan’s name means ‘Son of Truth,’ for no man is richer in virtue.”

When Savitri returned home, she found her father sitting with the holy seer named Narada.

“Daughter,” said the king, “have you found a man you wish to marry?”

“Yes, father. His name is Satyavan.”

Narada gasped. “Not Satyavan! Princess, no man could be more worthy, but you must not marry him! I know the future. Satyavan will die, one year from today.”

The king said, “Do you hear, daughter? Choose a different husband!”
Savitri trembled but said, “I have chosen Satyavan, and I will not choose another. However long or short his life, I wish to share it.”
Soon the king rode with Savitri to arrange the marriage.

Satyavan was overjoyed to be offered such a bride. But his father, the blind king, asked Savitri, “Can you bear the hard life of the hermitage? Will you wear our simple robe and our coat of matted bark? Will you eat only fruit and plants of the wild?”




Savitri said, “I care nothing about comfort or hardship. In palace or in hermitage, I am content.”

That very day, Savitri and Satyavan walked hand in hand around the sacred fire in the hall of worship. In front of all the priests and hermits, they became husband and wife.

For a year, they lived happily. But Savitri could never forget that Satyavan’s death drew closer.

Finally, only three days remained. Savitri entered the hall of worship and faced the sacred fire. There she prayed for three days and nights, not eating or sleeping.
“My love,” said Satyavan, “prayer and fasting are good. But why be this hard on yoursel
Savitri gave no answer.
The sun was just rising when Savitri at last left the hall. She saw Satyavan heading for the forest, an ax on his shoulder

Savitri rushed to his side. “I will come with you.

“Stay here, my love,” said Satyavan. “You should eat and rest.”
But Savitri said, “My heart is set on going.”

Hand in hand, Savitri and Satyavan walked over wooded hills. They smelled the blossoms on flowering trees and paused beside clear streams. The cries of peacocks echoed through the woods.
While Savitri rested, Satyavan chopped firewood from a fallen tree. Suddenly, he dropped his ax.

“My head aches.”




Savitri rushed to him. She laid him down in the shade of a tree, his head on her lap.

“My body is burning! What is wrong with me?”
Satyavan’s eyes closed. His breathing slowed.

Savitri looked up. Coming through the woods to meet them was a princely man. He shone, though his skin was darker than the darkest night. His eyes and his robe were the red of blood.
Trembling, Savitri asked, “Who are you?”

A deep, gentle voice replied. “Princess, you see me only by the power of your prayer and fasting. I am Yama, god of death. Now is the time I must take the spirit of Satyavan.”
Yama took a small noose and passed it through Satyavan’s breast, as if through air. He drew out a tiny likeness of Satyavan, no bigger than a thumb.

Satyavan’s breathing stopped.
Yama placed the likeness inside his robe. “Happiness awaits your husband in my kingdom. Satyavan is a man of great virtue.”
Then Yama turned and headed south, back to his domain.
Savitri rose and started after him.

Yama strode smoothly and swiftly through the woods, while Savitri struggled to keep up. At last, he stopped to face her.

“Savitri! You cannot follow to the land of the dead!

“Lord Yama, I know your duty is to take my husband. But my duty as his wife is to stay beside him.”
“Princess, that duty is at an end. Still, I admire your loyalty. I will grant you a favor—anything but the life of your husband.”
Savitri said, “Please restore my father-in-law’s kingdom and his sight.”

“His sight and his kingdom shall be restored.”
ma again headed south. Savitri followe
Along a river bank, thorns and tall sharp grass let Yama pass untouched. But they tore at Savitri’s clothes and skin.
“Savitri! You have come far enough!”

“Lord Yama, I know my husband will find happiness in your kingdom. But you carry away the happiness that is mine!”
“Princess, even love must bend to fate. Still, I admire your devotion. I will grant you another favor—anything but the life of your husband.”

Savitri said, “Grant many more children to my father.”

“Your father shall have many more children.”
Yama once more turned south. Again, Savitri followed.
Up a steep hill Yama glided, while Savitri clambered after him. At the top, he halted.

“Savitri! I forbid you to come farther!”

“Lord Yama, you are respected and revered by all. Yet, no matter what may come, I will remain by Satyavan!”

“Princess, I tell you for the last time, you will not! Still, I can only admire your courage and your firmness. I will grant you one last favor—anything but the life of your husband.”

“Then grant many children to me. And let them be children of Satyavan!”

Yama’s eyes grew wide as he stared at Savitri. “You did not ask for your husband’s life, yet I cannot grant your wish without releasing him. Princess! Your wit is as strong as your will.”

Yama took out the spirit of Satyavan and removed the noose. The spirit flew north, quickly vanishing from sight.

The sun was just setting when Savitri again laid Satyavan’s head in her lap.

His chest rose and fell. His eyes opened.

“Is the day already gone? I have slept long. But what is wrong, my love? You smile and cry at the same time!”

“My love,” said Savitri, “let us return home.”

Yama was true to all he had promised. Savitri’s father became father to many more. Satyavan’s father regained both sight and kingdom.

In time, Satyavan became king, and Savitri his queen. They lived long and happily, blessed with many children. So they had no fear or tears when Yama came again to carry them to his kingdom.

About the Story

The story of the princess Savitri is one of the best-known and best-loved tales of India. It appears within The Mahabharata, India’s great national epic, which is much like an Old Testament to the Hindus.

This epic, written down at around the time of Christ, had already been passed on orally for centuries. It arises from a time when legends were born—an age of walled cities, of sun and fire worship, and of women far more independent than later Indian culture allowed.
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Wednesday, August 8, 2018

August 08, 2018

Great Mughal Rulers of India

Great Mughal Rulers of India

In December 1525 Babur, the great grandson of the Mongol conqueror Tamberlaine, crossed the Indus river into the Punjab with a modest army and some cannon. At the battle of Panipat five months later he routed the mammoth army of the Afghan ruler of Hindustan. Mughal rule in India had begun.
It was to continue for over three centuries, shaping India for all time. Full of dramatic episodes and colourful detail, THE MUGHAL EMPIRE tells the story of one of the world's great empires

cooment
priti
I loved most of this book, although I definitely skimmed some of the battles. A great historical account of the Mughal empire. Since I'm reading this in Pune, I was especially interested in how the Marathas managed to roust the Mughal empire - sadly, I thought that was the weakest section of the book.

On the other hand, there were so many things I enjoyed (potential spoilers ahead but it's also historical nonfiction so c'mon, we know how things turn out


commets
marry jain

The best thing about Abraham Eraly's books is that they are highly readable.He writes about history like an interesting story.This is the saga of the Mughal emperors Babur,Humayun,Akbar,Jehangir,Shahjehan and Aurangzeb.Their personalities,their battles and the world they inhabited is described in fascinating detail.Eraly has clearly done his homework and done a great deal of research.Also worth reading is the companion volume,The Mughal World.
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Monday, August 6, 2018

August 06, 2018

Candles in the Dark and Spice from the @ Mystery

Candles in the Dark and Spice from the Orient: Mystery Cults
                                              


Rome did not sit entirely happily with the East. In the 1st century AD, the memories of the notorious Egyptian queen Cleopatra, whose seduction of both Julius Caesar and Mark Antony had such a devastating effect upon Roman politics late in the previous century, were still fresh and raw. There was prejudice against the perceived effeteness and decadence of the painted and perfumed Oriental 



In his Satires, Juvenal poked fun at Eastern customs and religion. In the particularly scornful verse quoted at the beginning of this article he probably echoed the prejudices of many of his contemporaries. But the traditions of the East did undoubtedly penetrate the Roman Empire, even as far to the north as Britain. These exotic religions arrived there with army units recruited in the eastern provinces, like Anatolia and Syria, and with merchants, oriental entrepreneurs who sought new markets for their wares. So it is unsurprising that archaeological evidence for these cults is clustered in large entrepôts like London and, above all, on military sites, particularly on Hadrian’s Wall.

was an exacting religion that accepted only those capable of the kind of physical stamina and endurance that Mithras himself demonstrated in his wrestle with a great bull. Mithras was sent to earth as the emissary of the great Iranian creator-god, Ahura Mazda, to hunt and slay the divine bull so that its life-blood would revitalize the earth and humankind; he was a guider of souls, teaching people the right path, that of goodness.


So, unlike most other religions in the Roman Empire, it was a cult whose adherents were required to live a life of merit, and furthermore to undergo a complicated series of seven initiation rites. The Christian leader and writer Saint Jerome wrote in the early 4th century AD of ‘the monstrous images there by which worshippers were initiated as Raven, Bridegroom, Soldier, Lion, Perseus, Sun Runner and Father’. Jerome was born in c. 348 AD in Dalmatia, but taken to Rome early in his life, to be taught by the greatest theologians of the time. As an ardent and outspoken Christian leader, he was both appalled by and scornful of Mithraism, which seemed to him to represent a twisted and wicked travesty of monotheism that set itself up to rival Christianity. iosd that true ancent story by god
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Friday, August 3, 2018

August 03, 2018

GHOST OF THE VIOLET WELL



GHOST OF THE VIOLET WELL 
IN the wild province of Yamato, or very near to its borders, is a beautiful mountain known as Yoshino yama. It is not only known for its abundance of cherry blossom in the spring, but it is also celebrated in relation to more than one bloody battle. In fact, Yoshino might be called the staging-place of historical battles. Many say, when in Yoshino, 'We are walking on history, because Yoshino itself is history.' Near Yoshino mountain lay another, known as Tsubosaka; and between them is the Valley of Shimizutani, in which is the Violet Well.




At the approach of spring in this tani 2 the grass assumes a perfect emerald green, while moss grows luxuriantly over rocks and boulders. Towards the end of April great patches of deep-purple wild violets show up in the lower parts of the valley, while up the sides pink and scarlet azaleas grow in a manner which beggars description.




Some thirty years ago a beautiful girl of the age of seventeen, named Shingé, was wending her way up




p. 20




[paragraph continues] Shimizutani, accompanied by four servants. All were out for a picnic, and all, of course, were in search of wildflowers. O Shingé San was the daughter of a Daimio who lived in the neighbourhood. Every year she was in the habit of having this picnic, and coming to Shimizutani at the end of April to hunt for her favourite flower, the purple violet (sumire).




The five girls, carrying bamboo baskets, were eagerly collecting flowers, enjoying the occupation as only Japanese girls can. They raced in their rivalry to have the prettiest basketful. There not being so many purple violets as were wanted, O Shingé San said, 'Let us go to the northern end of the valley, where the Violet Well is.'
Naturally the girls assented, and off they all ran, each eager to be there first, laughing as they went.

O Shingé outran the rest, and arrived before any of them; and, espying a huge bunch of her favourite flowers, of the deepest purple and very sweet in smell, she flung herself down, anxious to pick them before the others came. As she stretched out her delicate hand to grasp them—oh, horror!—a great mountain snake raised his head from beneath his shady retreat. So frightened was O Shingé San, she fainted away on the spot.

In the meanwhile the other girls had given up the race, thinking it would please their mistress to arrive first. They picked what they most fancied, chased butterflies, and arrived fully fifteen minutes after O Shingé San had fainted.

On seeing her thus laid out on the grass, a great fear


filled them that she was dead, and their alarm increased when they saw a large green snake coiled near her head.

They screamed, as do most girls amid such circumstances; but one of them, Matsu, who did not lose her head so much as the others, threw her basket of flowers at the snake, which, not liking the bombardment, uncoiled himself and slid away, hoping to find a quieter place. Then all four girls bent over their mistress. They rubbed her hands and threw water on her face, but without effect. O Shines beautiful complexion became paler and paler, while her red lips assumed the purplish hue that is a sign of approaching death. The girls were heartbroken. Tears coursed down their faces. They did not know what to do, for they could not carry her. What a terrible state of affairs!

Just at that moment they heard a man's voice close behind them:


'Do not be so sad! I can restore the young lady to consciousness if you will allow me.'




They turned, and saw a remarkably handsome youth standing on the grass not ten feet away. He appeared as an angel from Heaven.




Without saying more, the young man approached the prostrate figure of O Shingé, and, taking her hand in his, felt her pulse. None of the servants liked to interfere in this breach of etiquette. He had not asked permission; but his manner was so gentle and sympathetic that they could say nothing.




The stranger examined O Shingé carefully, keeping silence. Having finished, he took out of his pocket a



little case of medicine, and, puttingwhite powder from this into a paper, said:


'I am a doctor from a neighbouring village, and I have just been to see a patient at the end of the valley. By good fortune I returned this way, and am able to help you and save your mistress's life. Give her this medicine, while I hunt for and kill the snake.'

O Matsu San forced the medicine, along with a little water, into her mistress's mouth, and in a few minutes she began to recover.

Shortly after this the doctor returned, carrying the dead snake on a stick.

'Is this the snake you saw lying by your young mistress?' he asked.

'Yes, yes,' they cried: 'that is the horrible thing.'

'Then,' said the doctor, 'it is lucky I came, for it is very poisonous, and I fear your mistress would soon have died had I not arrived and been able to give her the medicine. Ah! I see that it is already doing the beautiful young lady good.'

On hearing the young man's voice O Shingé San sat up.

'Pray, sir, may I ask to whom I am indebted for bringing me thus back to life?' she asked.

The doctor did not answer, but in a proud and manly way contented himself by smiling, and bowing low and respectfully after the Japanese fashion; and departed as quietly and unassumingly as he had arrived, disappearing in the sleepy mist which always appears in the afternoons of spring time in the Shimizu Valley.

The four girls helped their mistress home; but indeed she wanted little assistance, for the medicine had

done her much good, and she felt quite recovered. O Shingé's father and mother were very grateful for their daughter's recovery; but the name of the handsome young doctor remained a secret to all except the servant girl Matsu.
For four days O Shingé remained quite well; but on the fifth day, for some cause or another, she took to her bed, saying she was sick. She did not sleep, and did not wish to talk, but only to think, and think, and think. Neither father nor mother could make out what her illness was. There was no fever.

Doctors were sent for, one after another; but none of them could say what was the matter. All they saw was that she daily became weaker. Asano Zembei, Shingé's father, was heartbroken, and so was his wife. They had tried everything and failed to do the slightest good to poor O Shingé.

One day O Matsu San craved an interview with Asano Zembei—who, by the by, was the head of all his family, a Daimio and great grandee. Zembei was not accustomed to listen to servants' opinions; but, knowing that O Matsu was faithful to his daughter and loved her very nearly as much as he did himself, he consented to hear her, and O Matsu was .ushered into his presence.




'Oh, master,' said the servant, 'if you will let me find a doctor for my young mistress, I can promise to find one who will cure her.'




'Where on earth will you find such a doctor? Have we not had all the best doctors in the province and some even from the capital? Where do you propose to look for one?'




p. 24




O Matsu answered:

'Ah, master, my mistress is not suffering from an illness which can be cured by medicines—not even if they be given by the quart. Nor are doctors of much use. There is, however, one that I know of who could cure her. My mistress's illness is of the heart. The doctor I know of can cure her. It is for love of him that her heart suffers; it has suffered so from the day when he saved her life from the snake-bite.'

Then O Matsu told particulars of the adventure at the picnic which had not been told before,—for O Shingé had asked her servants to say as little as possible, fearing they would not be allowed to go to the Valley of the Violet Well again.

'What is the name of this doctor?' asked Asano Zembei, 'and who is he?'

'Sir,' answered O Matsu, 'he is Doctor Yoshisawa, a very handsome young man, of most courtly manners; but he is of low birth, being only of the eta. 1 Please think, master, of my young mistress's burning heart, full of love for the man who saved her life—and no wonder, for he is very handsome and has the manners of a proud samurai. The only cure for your daughter, sir, is to be allowed to marry her lover.'


O Shingé's mother felt very sad when she heard this. She knew well (perhaps by experience) of the illnesses caused by love. She wept, and said to Zembei:




'I am quite with you in sorrow, my lord, at the terrible trouble that has come to us; but I cannot see my daughter die thus. Let us tell her we will make


inquiries about the man she loves, and see if we can make him our son-in-law. In any case, it is the custom to make full inquiries, which will extend over some days; and in this time our daughter may recover somewhat and get strong enough to hear the news that we cannot accept her lover as our son-in-law.'

Zembei agreed to this, and O Matsu promised to say nothing to her mistress of the interview.

O Shingé San was told by her mother that her father, though he had not consented to the engagement, had promised to make inquiries about Yoshisawa.


O Shingé took food and regained much strength on this news; and when she was strong enough, some ten days later, she was called into her father's presence, accompanied by her mother.




'My sweet daughter,' said Zembei, 'I have made careful inquiries about Dr. Yoshisawa, your lover. Deeply as it grieves me to say so, it is impossible that I, your father, the head of our whole family, can consent to your marriage with one of so low a family as Yoshisawa, who, in spite of his own goodness, has sprung from the eta. I must hear no more of it. Such a contract would be impossible for the Asano family.'

No one ventured to say a word to this. In Japan the head of a family's decision is final.


Poor O Shingé bowed to her father, and went to her own room, where she wept bitterly; O Matsu, the faithful servant, doing her best to console her.

Next morning, to the astonishment of the household, O Shingé San could nowhere be found. Search was made everywhere; even Dr. Yoshisawa joined in the search.

p. 26

On the third day after the disappearance one of the searchers looked down the Violet Well, and saw poor O Shines floating body.


Two days later she was buried, and on that day Yoshisawa threw himself into the well.

he people say that even now, on wet, stormy nights, they see the ghost of O Shingé San floating over the well, while some declare that they hear the sound of a young man weeping in the Valley of Shimizutani.
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Saturday, July 28, 2018

July 28, 2018

5,400-Year-Old Egyptian Love Story




Hidden amongst bedrock and surrounded by a court of tombs in the vast, ancient burial ground of Saqqara , archaeologists made a unique discovery 4,400-year-old tomb belonging to a couple, their children and possibly grandchildren. But what makes this tomb special is the relief  
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painting depicting a loving scene between the couple, which was extremely rare in Egypt during the Pyramid Age. Now the painting in its original colours has been released for people to see.

The tomb belonged to a priestess named Meretites, and her husband, who was a singer named Kahai, who performed at the pharaoh’s palace. "Probably, as a result, their tomb is particularly beautiful, being perhaps decorated by the royal artists," said Miral Lashien, a researcher at Macquarie University.
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Indeed, the tomb was covered in colourful scenes showing people singing and playing musical instruments, such as harps and flutes. But the scene which stands out the most is the one in which the couple are seen gazing into each other’s eyes, with Meretites placing her right hand over Kahai's right shoulder.
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While such a depiction may seem quite normal for a married couple, in ancient Egypt, such depictions were almost unheard of. Only a few examples of a face-to-face embrace survive from the Old Kingdom (2649 B.C. to 2150 B.C.), the time period when the couple lived and pyramid building thrived, said Miral Lashien, a researcher at Macquarie University. "I think that this indicates very special closeness," Lashien said. Egypt is most degenerative country

The tomb was first discovered in 1966 and published in a book in 1971, but the discovery was mainly recorded in low quality black-and-white images. So in 2000, a group of scientists from Macquarie University's Australian Center for Egyptology returned to the tomb to study and document the artwork in full colour.

"This tomb is one of the most colourful examples of Old Kingdom art and certainly deserves a full-color publication," said Lashien.

The tomb contained five "false doors" with images of the deceased that acted as a conduit between the world of the living and that of the dead. Food was placed in front of the doors so that the deceased could go out through the false door to receive the offerings.
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