The use of acid to maim and disfigure both women and men for supposed transgressions, is a problem in South Asia.  Although this is in some ways a sad story, it is also inspirational because women like Fozilitun Nessa are not prepared to lose their will to live, despite the horrific damage that has been done to them.

I hope some day these crimes will be a thing of the past and the perpetrators of these crimes are brought to justice and incur a heavy penalty for their disgraceful actions.

Not Just Skin Deep | newmatilda.com

http://newmatilda.com/2009/03/12/not-...

By Shakira Hussein Bangladesh has been in the news recently for violence in the military, but there is another kind of violence, quiet and almost unnoticed, that occurs there every second day, writes Shakira Hussein Whenever anybody meets Fozilitun Nessa, the first thing they learn about her is the moment that she would most like to wipe from her life: the moment a neighbour, enraged by the rejection of his marriage proposal, flung acid into her face. He could not have her, so he branded her. After eight rounds of surgery, she bears the mark still. Further surgery could help to conceal the damage, but she has had enough. She has nothing to be ashamed of, she says. She did nothing wrong, and her scarred face is not her fault. It is his fault — the one who did it to her. Fozilitun visited Australia from Bangladesh as UNIFEM's guest for International Women's Day. She has come to talk about the work of the Acid Survivor's Foundation, the organisation that arranged for her surgery and for whom she is now a board member. But listening to her address a 900-strong audience in Canberra, it was clear that she had also come because speaking out and making herself visible is the best victory that she can have. Her attacker must have thought that if she survived her injuries, she would hide herself away. She hasn't. Hundreds of women (and some men) are killed or maimed by acid attack in South Asia each year, across a myriad of ethnic and religious communities. They are punished for a range of supposed transgressions. For refusing a suitor, like Fozilitun. For failing to adhere to ordained dress codes. For transgressing caste boundaries. For failing to bring enough dowry to a marriage, like Noor Bibi's daughter. I met Noor Bibi some years ago in Pakistan, just a few hours after her daughter had died, her face burned away by the acid flung by her husband and his brothers. Noor Bibi was a widow with no sons, living with her brother's family in a village outside Lahore. S...

By Shakira Hussein

Bangladesh has been in the news recently for violence in the military, but there is another kind of violence, quiet and almost unnoticed, that occurs there every second day, writes Shakira Hussein

Whenever anybody meets Fozilitun Nessa, the first thing they learn about her is the moment that she would most like to wipe from her life: the moment a neighbour, enraged by the rejection of his marriage proposal, flung acid into her face. He could not have her, so he branded her. After eight rounds of surgery, she bears the mark still. Further surgery could help to conceal the damage, but she has had enough. She has nothing to be ashamed of, she says. She did nothing wrong, and her scarred face is not her fault. It is his fault — the one who did it to her. Fozilitun visited Australia from Bangladesh as UNIFEM's guest for International Women's Day. She has come to talk about the work of the Acid Survivor's Foundation, the organisation that arranged for her surgery and for whom she is now a board member. But listening to her address a 900-strong audience in Canberra, it was clear that she had also come because speaking out and making herself visible is the best victory that she can have. Her attacker must have thought that if she survived her injuries, she would hide herself away. She hasn't.

Hundreds of women (and some men) are killed or maimed by acid attack in South Asia each year, across a myriad of ethnic and religious communities. They are punished for a range of supposed transgressions. For refusing a suitor, like Fozilitun. For failing to adhere to ordained dress codes. For transgressing caste boundaries. For failing to bring enough dowry to a marriage, like Noor Bibi's daughter.

I met Noor Bibi some years ago in Pakistan, just a few hours after her daughter had died, her face burned away by the acid flung by her husband and his brothers. Noor Bibi was a widow with no sons, living with her brother's family in a village outside Lahore. She was very poor, but she had married off her daughter with the best dowry she could afford. It was not enough. After the wedding, the groom's family kept demanding more and more money. Noor Bibi's daughter was their hostage — when their demands were not met, they beat her. Noor Bibi gave and gave until she had nothing more to give. After that, they had no more use for her daughter.

Noor Bibi had come to Lahore with her daughter and sat at her bedside as she died. She traced her fingers across her own face as she described the damage the acid had wrought upon her only child. Her eye, her nose, her ear, all burned away. Her young son remained in the custody of the family who had killed her. Noor Bibi hoped to reclaim her grandson. But her daughter was gone.

In strictly relative terms, Fozilitun escaped lightly. She is still alive; she still has her vision, her ability to smile. But her life is split into "before" and "after". Before the attack, she lived with her extended family in the provincial town of Comilla, 100 kilometres south-east of the capital, in a combined household with her four uncles and their families as well as her own parents and siblings. She was a good student and planned to become a school principal one day. She winces when she talks of those plans.

"It's a very painful question, to think about those ambitions. That's totally finished."

After the burning, the weeks when she thought that she might die, the surgery and yet more surgery, she was determined to continue her education and her life. She left her hometown to go to university in the capital, Dhaka. Her older sisters had completed their degrees, but she was the first daughter in the family to move away from home alone — a bold, transgressive step in Bangladeshi society. She was also the first in her family to complete her Masters degree, and she now has a management position in telecommunications, with 20 employees under her supervision. She lists all her accomplishments with quiet pride. She undertook all of them, she says, to prove that she could. And to prove that "he" — the man who burned her, the man she does not name — could not stop her.

But still she carries the stigma wherever she goes. People notice her, in places where it is best not to be noticed. They know what happened to her — the thickened scar tissue across her face tells its own story. Or they think they know - often they need to be told, over and over, that it was not her fault, that none of the acid-scarred women brought this mark upon themselves.

And overlying the story of the acid, of the years since "he" left his mark, are more ordinary stories of day-to-day life as a young woman living alone in Dhaka. She has been boarding with a family, but that is coming to an end. She needs to find somewhere new, and it is not easy. She needs somewhere safe, somewhere secure. "Security is the most important thing for me," she says. It is not easy, as a woman alone.

I think of Noor Bibi as I listen to Fozilitun. In many ways they are very different — Fozilitun is younger, much better educated; an urban professional rather than a village peasant. But both their lives have been marked by acid. And each of them has had to find their way alone, in a society where it is expected that women's lives will be negotiated by others.

Fozilitun is not entirely alone, however. There are her work colleagues, and her fellow activists from the Acid Survivors Foundation. And she talks affectionately about her family - her sisters and their children, her younger brother's academic achievements. But she does not live with them, and that is regarded as very far from ideal. Her mother is anxious about her - she is a source of gossip, living all alone in the big city, travelling around the world, unmarried at the age of 26. Why hasn't she settled down, at her age?

And she would like to settle down, one day. She would like to get married. But she will marry the man of her choice, "a man who loves me — me," she says, stabbing her finger to herself, "who loves me from his heart." She has a good job, a decent salary, but she does not want a man to marry her for that. She does not want to be reduced to her earning capacity any more than she wants to be reduced to her scars.

And so she continues to make plans. She would like to undertake further study in gender and development, and to continue in her career. She is not a burden on anyone, so no one is entitled to tell her that she should not live alone, that she should marry a man who does not love her from his heart. And she refuses to feel ashamed.

I do love this song.  Thank you to Helen Reddy for co-writing this song and doing such an excellent job in singing it.

I had hoped to post the original video clip here but the user at YouTube doesn't allow videos to be embedded.  So if you would like to see the original clip and also the "This is Your Life" episodes click on the links below each video.  The videos are available at YouTube they just can't be viewed from here.

A very beautiful video about what real love is ..............

Love is patient, Love is kind.
It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.
It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered,
It keeps no record of wrongs.
Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.
It always protects always trusts, always hopes, always preserves.

Whether you are a Christian or not, I don't think many can fault this passage from the Bible, it is certainly my favourite passage and many will recognise it, as it is often said at weddings.

1 Corinthians 13:1-13

If I speak in the tongues of men and angels,
but have not love,
I have become sounding brass or a tinkling symbol. 

And if I have prophecy and know all mysteries and all knowledge,
and if I have all faith so as to remove mountains,
but have not love, I am nothing. 

And if I dole out all my goods, and
if I deliver my body that I may boast
but have not love, nothing I am profited.

Love is long suffering, 
love is kind,
it is not jealous, 
love does not boast,
it is not inflated.

It is not discourteous,
it is not selfish,
it is not irritable,
it does not enumerate the evil.
It does not rejoice over the wrong, but rejoices in the truth 
 

It covers all things,
it has faith for all things,
it hopes in all things,
it endures in all things.

Love never falls in ruins;
but whether prophecies, they will be abolished; or
tongues, they will cease; or
knowledge, it will be superseded.

For we know in part and we prophecy in part.

But when the perfect comes, the imperfect will be superseded.  

When I was an infant,
I spoke as an infant,
I reckoned as an infant;

when I became [an adult],
I abolished the things of the infant. 

For now we see through a mirror in an enigma, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know as also I was fully known. 

But now remains faith, hope, love,

these three;

but the greatest of these is love.

Here's a big idea: Pangea Day plans to use the power of film to bring the world a little closer together. We're divided by borders, race, religion, conflict... but most of all by misunderstanding and mistrust. Pangea Day seeks to overcome that -- to help people see themselves in others -- through the power of film.

On May 10, 2008 -- Pangea Day -- sites in Cairo, Dharamsala, Jerusalem, Kigali, London, New York City, Ramallah and Rio de Janeiro will be linked to produce a 4-hour program of powerful films, visionary speakers, and uplifting music. The program will be broadcast live to the world through the Internet, television, digital cinemas, and mobile phones.

Your film could be part of it. The online video revolution has helped spawn a new generation of grass-roots film-makers worldwide. Much of the output, of course, is mediocre. But hidden in there are amazing talents capable of using film to astonishing effect... and capable of telling stories that can create powerful bonds between us.

So ask yourself this. If you had the entire world's attention for just a few minutes, what story would you tell? Perhaps you think the world looks at you, your country and your culture... and just doesn't understand. Then do something about it. Make a film and upload it here http://www.youtube.com/group/pangeaday. You never know. It could end up bringing millions of people that bit closer together.

Pangea is the name of the original super-continent which contained all the world's land mass before the continents started splitting apart 250 million years ago. We're launching Pangea Day with the vision that the people of the world can begin to overcome their divisions, and that the power of film can help make it possible.

Movies can't change the world. But the people who watch them can.

To register as a film-maker, to get more ideas about film submissions, or to host a screening or learn how you can get involved, please visit our website at http://www.pangeaday.org.

Below are a few videos of aerial photos taken of crop circles.  If they are man made they are incredible pieces of artwork and if it was my work, I would be definitely putting my hand up as the owner of such works.  If it is the work of Aliens I don't want to know about it, as the thought of Aliens freaks me out - I think I have a phobia of Aliens and I am not too sure if there is a term for such a phobia.  Then again they could have paranormal origins and I don't want to think about that either.  Actually what is there to be afraid of, these circles have been around for many years now and to my knowledge there haven't been any negative consequences to their existence.

Anyway forget about what may or may not have caused these beautiful intricate pieces of art and just sit back and enjoy the view - it is simply awe inspiring.

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My God is love, inspiration, compassion, empathy, wonder, inner beauty, peace, understanding, humility, kindness, equality and strength.  Through my God I am to do what I feel is right.

My God tells me not to kill, lie, or steal.  My God also tells me not to use divisive or hurtful speech or not to wish that harm comes to others.  My God tells me not to be greedy or want what does not belong to me.

My God tells me to love and accept all without discrimination.

My God lives in my heart and I am free to talk to my God in person.  My God tells me I do not need others to tell me what my God thinks, as my God lets me know.

My God tells me to never stop learning and always broaden my views, so that I have a greater understanding of people who are different to me.

My God tells me I am a human who makes many mistakes.  My God tells me to learn from my mistakes and openly admit them.

My God tells me to look for the inspirational people from this world and learn from them.

My God tells me that it is okay to be happy, but never at the expense of another.

My God tells me to protect those that cannot protect themselves and to do so in such a way that does not cause them any further harm.

My God tells me I am free to choose how best to acknowledge my God.

My God tells me to enjoy the wonder of the world that surrounds me and also the cosmos that surrounds my world.

My God tells me to look after this world, because it is the only world that we have got.

My God tells me to live in the present, learn from the past, move forward to the future and not worry about the afterlife, as that is currently not my concern.

My God is the life that I aspire to and I hope one day I will get it right.

- ChezzaG

Dear friends,

Not only did GetUp and the Close the Gap coalition put Indigenous health on the agenda as we commemorated the 40th anniversary of the '67 Referendum, we changed it. GetUp journeyed twice to Canberra last week with your 40,000 names, to demand our political leaders use the anniversary to announce their commitment to ending this crisis - and it worked.

So with all the work still to be done, we just had to pause for a moment to let this achievement sink in, and say thank you to everyone who's thrown their weight behind this campaign: GetUp members, Oxfam, ANTaR, the AMA, the NACCHO, Cathy Freeman, Ian Thorpe and every community leader and citizen standing up to carry the vision of Indigenous equality forward.

With the ALP announcement of $261.4 million over four years to close the gap, the Coalition is now under real pressure to match their commitment. As parties are gauging the community mood and determining their election funding priorities, we're taking this forward by asking every one of our friends and family to sign the petition: join almost 40,000 of us in our demand for the full $460 million identified by the AMA and Indigenous health groups to close the gap.

www.getup.org.au/campaign/CloseTheGap

There is still such a long way to go, and so united we move forward to achieve life expectancy equality for all Australians.

Well done and thank you,

The GetUp team