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The importance of forests

Man has been cutting down forests indiscriminately and today the trend is not only to save
natural forests but to create artificial ones. Deserts are made to bloom! The Imperial Valley of
the Sonoran desert in southern California has been converted into a green patch which yields
crops all the year round. Forests are not to be considered merely as a direct source of wealth;
they are to be considered in relation to the national economy and geography.
Forests serve many purposes. They hold together the soil and prevent or minimize soil erosion.
The oxygen in the air is replenished by forests and plankton in the sea. Trees and plants, during
photosynthesis, absorb carbon dioxide and release oxygen. Scientists fear that if forests are
destroyed indiscriminately, there will be an increase in carbon dioxide and eventually the sun's
rays will become hotter, the polar caps will melt and the ocean level rise and submerge much of
our land. Vegetable mould that forests supply increases the fertility of the soil. Forests influence
climate. The roots suck up sub-soil water and it is expelled as moisture by foliage. Forests
provide sanctuary for animals and birds. It is to he remembered that the rich and varied wild life
vanishes in proportion to the forest we destroy.
Industries like paper, rayon. strawboards, matches, insulation boards and wood-panel products
are dependent on forests. Indian forests are said to yield 2,500 species of wood, about 18% of
which are commercially valuable. Forests are a source of essential oil and medicinal herbs. The
lignin and cellulose found in wood are chemically treated to produce valuable drugs like
sulfonamide and chloroform. Spruce and fur are used for making airplane and glider parts. Ash
and mulberry woods are used for making many sports goods.
Governments all over the world have taken steps to conserve forests: President Franklin
Roosevelt of the USA, alarmed by the massive destruction of forests by man, created a
conservation corps of two million men to plant trees, dig lakes and build forest roads and in the
course of ten years saved the country's forests. Today the trend is not only to save the existing
forests but to create artificial ones. Israel is the classic example of a country where a desert has
been converted into a garden. The success of this experiment shows that land can be reclaimed
and thus increase the food supply of the world. It stands to Israel's credit that within twenty-five
years it has doubled the area of its arable land.












Write an essay ending with with tears in her eyes, she hugged me tightly.

It was the wettest December I had ever experienced. The torrential rains had ruined my holiday plans as
floods continued to wreak havoc in several states. I had pleaded with dad to allow me to go to the east
coast with my friends but he had been unyielding. The thought of having to stay indoors for the next two
weeks was not only depressing but also unbearable. Television did not excite me anymore. I was fed up of
watching the same old movies on cable television. Even the other channels had nothing exciting to offer.
Finally, I decided to go into the attic to retrieve some books which I had not read for a long time.
The attic was surprisingly clean a sign that mum had finally completed the chore that she had kept
putting off. I looked around and noticed a teak chest that I had never seen before. Curiosity got the better
of me and I walked towards it. I lifted the lid slowly and was pleasantly surprised to see a variety of things
in it all of them reminders of my childhood. I looked nostalgically at the clothes I had worn as a child
and the toys I had played with. Bobo the teddy bear, which I had slept with until I was ten, had been dry-
cleaned and kept in a box which also contained the first Mothers Day card I had made myself. I was not
prepared for what I saw next. Lying at the bottom of the cardboard box was an old black and white
photograph of a young woman. I stared at it incredulously. It was as if I was looking at a female version of
myself. All sorts of questions and dreadful thoughts flooded my mind. I held the photograph tightly in my
hand and dashed out of the attic, only to bump into my mother.

Mum.who is this? I asked in a quivering voice.

From the look on her face, I knew it was a question she did not want to answer. Quietly, she held my hand
and led me towards the study where dad had been working all morning. She knocked on the door once
before opening it. Dad looked up, and his expression of annoyance disappeared when he saw the
photograph in my hand.

What I heard that day is something I will never forget for the rest of my life. The woman in the
photograph was my mother, my biological mother Lily Lee.

Son, Lily loved you very much; just as much as Janet here loves you.

Dads use of the past tense made me uncomfortable. It took a great deal of effort on his part to narrate the
painful past.

My biological mother was six months pregnant when the incident happened. She had been walking
towards her office when a motorcyclist came from behind and grabbed her handbag before speeding off.
As a result of the sudden assault, she had lost her balance and fallen on the kerb. The head injuries she
had sustained had a devastating effect on her health. The only option was to perform surgery, but due to
her condition, this option was risky. The doctors had wanted to terminate her pregnancy to save her life
but she had refused. A month later she fell into a coma. Although the doctors had given up hope, Lily
continued to live, though in a comatose state. It was as if she was not giving up on life till her baby was
born. When the doctors deemed it safe, they performed an emergency C-section. Lily breathed her last the
moment I was born into this world.

Dad sobbed softly as he finished relating the heart-wrenching story. All sorts of emotions consumed me. I
was sad, confused and angry. Was I adopted? What about my father? Who was he? Had he abandoned
me? After a while, I braved myself and stated what I thought was obvious.

So, that means you are not my real parents. I am adopted!

No, son. You are not adopted. I am your father. Lily was my first wife. She made me promise her that I
would marry her younger sister, Janet, so that you would not grow up motherless.

The sense of relief that I felt at that moment was indescribable. I looked at mum and I saw the pain and
anguish in her eyes, as though she was anticipating rejection. Quickly, she looked down.
Slowly, I got up from my chair and walked towards her. I went down on my knees and held her hands in
mine. Her eyes remained downcast, fearful of rejection.

Mum, I know I am only seventeen but I am more mature than you think. You might not have given birth
to me but you are and will always be my mother. I comforted her as much as I comforted myself.

She looked up slowly, her eyes searching my face for sincerity. Then with tears in her eyes, she hugged me
tightly.


The lure of Possibility
Posted by Dhyra at Friday, December 10, 2010
I stand silently in the cool, crisp air. Around me, the houses cast off a sullen light in the covering
darkness. I slowly walk forward, my thundering footsteps the only disturbance in an otherwise quiet
night. Inside the house, the television blares on with soap operas. The moon is rising, emitting a faint
light as it appears over the horizon. The stars are clearly visible, tiny jewels of light studded in the
black quilt of the night sky. I look to the stars, and my mind wanders.

A majesty is evident in the quiet brilliance of these points of light. I lose myself in their shine. Out
there are wonders. Millions of balls of gas, planets and even black holes exist up beyond the black veil
of night. Hundreds of galaxies swirl gracefully out in the vast emptiness of space. The universe, with
all its mysteries, looms just beyond the horizon.

I had read about space when I was in 2nd grade, spending many evenings sprawled on my bed,
devouring books by Isaac Asimov on asteroids, comets, stars, planets and black holes. These heavenly
objects represented the unknown and their enticingly mysterious names Enceladus, Andromeda, Io
called to me. As a high school student, I read Stephen Hawkings A Brief History of Time and
watched a Nova series on string theory on the Internet to get a better idea of how our universe works.

Something about the heavens draws me in. A hint of something exotic, beyond the mundane
interactions of daily life. Up there, stars with so much gravity that not even light could escape twisted
the fabric of the universe, quasars blew out large bursts of radio waves and dark energy stretched the
universes boundaries. Scientists could explain neither how the universe began nor how the universe
was going to end. Up beyond the black veil of night, something remains out of reach of human
knowledge, wafting a scent of mysteries unsolved.

When I learned that we were going to cover space in school, I became thrilled at the prospect of
discovering the universes secrets. I fervently hoped that the teacher would tell me about the Big Bang
and black holes in detail. However, I was bitterly disappointed. The teacher glossed over black holes,
instead focusing on teaching the names of the planets and moon phases, in the order that they both
occurred. The universe, with all its mysteries and complexity, was condensed to 16 easy to remember
words. Class focused more on the sparse words inside the McDougall-Little textbook than on the
universe that lay outside, beckoning to us to view its wonders.

Yet, I cannot stay out forever. Already, I can hear them. The soft, insistent lisp of my opened
textbook. The accusing hum of my computer. The grim tramp of duties coming to drag me away from
my galaxies and dark matter. My heavy sigh tumbles into the night air; many days could pass before I
could escape their grasp to come out again. With one last longing glance, I plod towards the door. As
the door clicks behind me, I return to the comfortable, mundane sounds of television soap operas and
clanging spoons in the sink.

Behind me, the stars smile mysteriously behind their black veil.

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