#youngest author of india

[ladysharmaa]

Kate mini version

Sharma!sis x Queen Charlotte's son

Summary: After the ball, everyone knows what happened between Y/n and Prince Charles. With the attention of high society members and the Queen, they face new obstacles as they fall in love.

part 1 part 2 part 3

Dearest reader,

The tone is abuzz with the latest gossip, and so it's my honor to impart to you.

Miss Y/n Sharma came to England after Kate Sharma's marriage to Viscount Bridgerton. In such a short time she managed to do something that no one else has managed to do: capture the attention of Queen Charlotte's youngest son, Prince Charles.

Dearest reader, this author finds herself compelled to share the most curious of news. It seems the two seemed to be quite close during the last dance, having danced together until Y/n walked away. But Prince Charles didn't take his eyes off the young woman for the rest of the night. Is a new romance brewing? Let's not forget that at the beginning of the season, her Majesty made her intentions clear of joining her youngest son with the princess of Austria.

In addition, Miss Y/n is here at her mother's request, living with her older sister, Kate Bridgerton, and her husband, Lord Bridgerton. Is it permanent or will she return to India? There are many mysteries yet to be unraveled.

On the other hand, the diamond of the season did not dance with any suitor, which may have made her Majesty uneasy. This author is left to wonder what shall her next move be, now that everything seems to be connected to the Bridgerton family.

Yours truly, Lady Whistledown

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

"This is not good." Y/n muttered nervously, looking over Kate's shoulder to read the latest edition of Lady Whistledown. And to his greatest horror, she was the main topic. "How many people read this?"

"Too many." the older sister sighed, before placing the paper next to her and turning to Y/n who had her eyes increasingly wide. "Everything's fine. Most of the family has already suffered from Lady Whistledown's words and we support each other. And everything ended up being fine, the ton has short memory and will forget all about this by the next scandal."

"But what if they don't forget?"

"If they don't forget what?" a new voice intruded into the conversation.

Y/n let out a small scream, immediately recognizing Anthony's voice, and hurried to hide the paper behind her back. "Nothing. It's a beautiful day, I'm going to the gardens. Maybe hide there all day. Or all year."

"Y/n, no. You have to tell Anthony, he won't blame you for anything."

Bridgerton's eyebrows rose upon hearing that, turning to Y/n with a frown upon noticing her terrified expression. "What happened?"

"My apologies, Anthony. The last thing I wanted to do was associate the name Bridgerton with scandals. Lady Whistledown wrote about last night. About… About Prince Charles and I." She looked down, not wanting to see Anthony's disapproving look, and handed him the paper.

The minutes dragged on. To Y/n it felt like hours had passed. Long hours with just the silence in the room. Her heart was pounding against her chest and she tried to control the tears from reaching her eyes. Her head was running with different questions that only made her anxiety worse. Would they send her back to India so they wouldn't suffer any more from this scandal? She didn't know that dancing with someone could cause so many problems.

Just the thought of returning to her homeland, despite having loved growing up there, brought her great sadness. Her life was in England now. She adored her sister's family, having grown up close to many of them, especially Francesca and Hyacinth. And the truth is that she had enjoyed meeting Prince Charles. Y/n finally felt like she belonged somewhere.

She snapped out of these thoughts when she heard Anthony sigh. What was that? Disappointment? Anger? Sadness?

"Look at me." he said, but Y/n refused, knowing that as soon as she looked at the couple she would burst into tears. She shook her head, pursing her lips. "Y/n…"

"Please don't send me back to India."

"What?" the Viscount questioned in shock, almost not having noticed her from how quietly she spoke. He felt Kate hold his hand, looking sadly at her sister. "Y/n, look at us. We are not going to send you back to India."

"Really?" She raised her head shyly, her eyes red from holding back tears.

"Of course. You're part of the family. I haven't told you yet, but Mama sent a letter. Edwina had problems during the birth, so she's going to stay there until at least the rest of the year. You're going to stay with us. Here."

"Y/n, we would never send you away because of Lady Whistledown's news. You're a Bridgerton now." Anthony assured, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. Her smile upon hearing those words, although still small, released some of the stress that Anthony and Kate were feeling.

"Hey, Anthony, I was wondering— Oh, sorry!" Hyacinth entered the room, stopping when she saw the three of them and the tense atmosphere it was in. Then he noticed the sad face and the paper his brother was holding. "Is that from Lady Whistledown? What does it say?"

"It doesn't matter what it says. What did you want to tell me, Hyacinth?"

"Oh, I was wondering if we could go horse riding. I am so bored, Gregory is training and Benedict isn't paying attention to me." she pouted, causing Y/n to giggle and rush over to Hyacinth, intertwining their arms.

"Fear no more, I shall give you attention."

"Thank you, kind lady." Hyacinth laughed. "Please, Anthony, take us horse riding."

When he offered to teach Y/n how to ride a horse, the rest of his sisters were also invited, since the men already knew how to do it. As expected, only Hyacinth accepted with great enthusiasm while Eloise preferred to read and spend her time with her new friend, Miss Cressida. For her part, Francesca was never much for outdoor sports and Daphne was obviously busy with her husband and son. Thus, Y/n and the youngest Bridgerton both formed a special friendship, and were now a feared duo in the Bridgerton house.

"What do you say?" he whispered in his wife's ear, looking at the two girls who were giving them the best puppy dog ​​eyes. "I'm afraid I can't say no to them."

"I think it's a great idea." Kate smiled.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The four then ventured into the forest. Anthony and Kate were ahead, lost in their own world while Hyacinth and Y/n followed a little behind. The younger girl curiously questioned Sharma about the night of the ball, upset that she was still too young to attend one.

"I wish I had gone yesterday. Did you dance with someone yesterday? I tried to ask Francesca the same thing, but she wouldn't leave her room."

"Unexpected things happened. Francesca is just a little discouraged. As diamond of the season, she has a lot of pressure on her. And I… Well, I danced with someone."

"Prince Charles?! I saw you both when we went for a picnic, I think it was love at first sight." Hyacinth giggled.

"Sometimes I forget how good an observer you are. Yes, I danced with him." Before her friend could get too excited, Y/n hurried to add. "And I was naive, because although I enjoyed being with him, he has an enormous responsibility. I doubt people would want him to spend his time with me."

"Please, I think you are in love."

"What? Of course not, I barely know him. We just had fun dancing, but that must be over by now. I doubt her Majesty will let him dance with me again. Lady Whistledown made sure of that."

"If you say so. I, on the other hand, do not agree. Prince Charles has shown that he is interested in you. Or he would have danced with other girls after you. But he didn't."

"Well, maybe he was tired." Y/n shrugged, while Hyacinth rolled her eyes. They continued the walk in silence, enjoying the forest landscape.

“Girls, let’s do a race!” Anthony shouted, looking over his shoulder with a smirk. Y/n chuckled, knowing he had never met a family as competitive as the Bridgertons. But she was one now too, and she loved winning.

“Very well. But make sure you don’t get too sad when I win.” Hyacinth teased, despite being the one with the least experience riding a horse.

“We’ll see.” Kate joined the teasing.

The four positioned themselves next to each other, letting the man count down. Y/n grabbed the reins tighter, and as soon as Anthony finished, she let her horse run. For a moment they were all balanced, but Hyacinth quickly fell behind. The couple competed a little ahead, trying to reach a certain narrower entrance. So, with their attention diverted from her, she took the opportunity to step over a fallen tree trunk, arriving earlier at that entrance, continuing at the same pace.

She felt free on a horse. The wind hit their face, the landscape blurred from how fast they were going. Y/n petted the animal, feeling like they could conquer the world.

When she realized that the others had already stopped, as no one had yet reached her, she also slowed down so she could wait for them to catch up. They probably had to go back to help Hyacinth control her horse.

“That was impressive.” she heard behind her.

Although she felt a second of fear, thinking that an unknown man had found her alone in the middle of the forest, she quickly associated it with the voice of the person she least wanted to see at that moment. As such, she just closed her eyes and hoped it was just her imagination. But when he cleared his throat, she knew she had to face him. Finally, she commanded the horse to turn around, finding herself face to face with Prince Charles, who was also on top of a beautiful black horse.

“Prince Charles, it’s a pleasure to see you again.” she smiled shyly.

“You as well, Miss Y/N. I didn’t know you were so talented at riding. Did Lady Bridgerton teach you?”

“She and Viscount Bridgerton. And since then I haven’t wanted anything else.” she shrugged uncomfortably, both not knowing what to say. In this way, Y/n focused on the horse that the prince was riding, being shocked by its size. “Beautiful.” She looked at Charles, noticing his look of surprise and a slight blush appearing on his cheeks. “I mean, the horse— The horse is beautiful.”

“Of course.” he looked away, clearing his throat. “It seems we both had the same idea after the paper published by Lady Whistledown. A nice walk was exactly what I needed to get away from my mother.”

“My apologies, I didn’t mean to interfere with your marriage with the Princess of Austria.”

“Her Majesty wants me to marry her. But I don't. You see, a beautiful, fierce, remarkable girl has already caught my attention. It may seem sudden, but she is constantly in my thoughts.” he looked intensely into her eyes. Out of nowhere, it seemed like it had become much hotter, her breathing coming in muffled.

“Oh… I—”

“Y/n! Where are you?” Kate's voice was heard through the forest, breaking the atmosphere that had formed between them.

“I’m here, Kate.” Y/n replied, closing her eyes in despair when she realized that she would have a lot to explain once they arrived.

She had already taken a risk with Lady Whistledown, and now they were alone in an isolated place… It's a good thing no one outside the family would see them, or the scandal would have become much more serious. A feeling of guilt coursed through her body again. She had promised Anthony that she didn't want to associate the Bridgerton name with scandals, and here she was doing exactly the opposite.

“Prince Charles, we can’t talk anymore. It’s not right.” she said before the others appeared.

“Why not? Because of Lady Whistledown? Ignore her, the ton will quickly forget about this.”

“You don’t know that!” Y/n exclaimed exasperated at how calm Charles seemed to be about this situation.

“I know that I want to be with you.”

“You are crazy!” she put her hand over her mouth when she realized that she had “insulted” a member of the royal family. “Apologies, Prince Charles. I didn’t mean that.”

“Call me Charles.”

“I take back my apologies.”

“Finally, we found you, Y/N. We had to go back because Hyacinth’s horse refused to move.” Kate appeared, followed by the others, stopping when she saw what was happening. She made a small bow, looking at them suspiciously. “Prince Charles, I didn’t expect to see you here. Especially with my sister.”

“What do you think you are doing?” Anthony wasn't as friendly as his wife, narrowing his eyes and approaching Y/n to stand slightly in front of her.

“Lord Bridgerton, I guarantee nothing happened. I was simply, like you, taking a walk when I saw Miss Y/n. We only talk about what Lady Whistledown wrote.” Charles assured, sending a comforting smile to Y/n, who was watching the two nervously.

“It was mere chance that we found each other. We can go back to the house now.”

Anthony signaled to Kate, who nodded. They had mastered the art of speaking with just their eyes, it still left Y/n quite confused when they did that. But this time, she understood perfectly. Lowering her head slightly, she followed her sister and Hyacinth home, while Anthony and Charles remained behind. Over her shoulder, she mumbled a quick apology to the boy, hoping he would understand what she meant.

When the women were out of sight, Anthony turned to the Prince , who appeared unaffected. “I hope you’re not trying to ruin my wife’s sister’s reputation. You know very well what the ton would say if they found you in this situation. And I guarantee you, you don’t want to duel me.”

“I agree. That's the last thing I desire. Miss Y/n would certainly never speak to me again. And I don't want that. Lord Bridgerton, we were just talking, and on horses for more. But, for all the respect I have for Miss Y/n and the Bridgerton family, I assure you this will never happen again.”

"It better not."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

After a tense conversation with Kate and Anthony, they believed Y/n when she said it was a coincidence to meet Prince Charles, but that she understood the gravity of being alone with a man.

So, she spent a few days locked up at home, hoping that the scandal had already been forgotten. However, this isolation couldn't last forever, so she was forced to join the Bridgerton family on a walk by the lake.

She had her arm linked with Benedict's, Eloise beside her, while they listened to Collin's travel stories. He had seen so much, experienced so many new cultures, that Y/n just wanted to know more. Eloise, in turn, seemed envious that only men could have the pleasure of traveling alone wherever they wanted, and Benedict asked about the art of each country, something that Y/n barely understood.

However, Collin ended up rushing the end of the story, seeing a group of girls walking, giggling when they saw him. Eloise groaned in disgust, while Benedict shook his head, changing direction so he wouldn't have to watch his brother flirt. Y/n also went with them, not wanting to see that scene.

But she noticed that they had been stopped by Lady Wilson, whose daughter was participating in the season along with Y/n, Francesca, and Eloise. "Good afternoon, Lady Wilson."

"Good afternoon." she said. "I noticed you didn't go to the ball yesterday. I haven't yet had a chance to talk with Lady Bridgerton to know if everything is alright."

"Thank you for your concern." Benedict said sarcastically, taking control since Anthony wasn't around. "We had other matters to attend, but I assure you that we will be present at the ball tomorrow."

"That's wonderful news." the woman said with a fake smile. "In that case you will be able to see my daughter dancing with Prince Charles, just like yesterday. They form a beautiful couple, don't you think?"

Y/n had to control herself not to roll her eyes. It was clear what Lady Wilson was trying to do, but there would be no reaction from her. Eloise and Benedict looked at her from the corner of their eyes, waiting to know if Y/n needed them to interrupt the conversation.

"I don't know. I didn't see them together nor did I have the opportunity to know about it since Lady Whistledown didn't write about them. And we all know that she writes about everything that happens, and it seems especially important if the prince is interested in someone to court. Looks like we'll have to wait and see."

"Yes, we shall wait." Lady Wilson clenched her jaw. "I'm certain that the prince loved to dance with my daughter."

"If you say so. Please excuse us, we shall return to the rest of our family." Y/n said dryly, hurrying to walk in the opposite direction with the two Bridgertons behind her.

"Jealous, dear sister?" Benedict asked with a sly smile once they were far enough away from the woman.

"No. Why would I be?" Y/n pretended not to be bothered, but in reality the thought of Charles dancing with someone else didn't sit very well with her. But what could she be expecting, she had said that they shouldn't talk anymore and he had to get married this season. "I'm just surprised that Lady Wilson is so confident in her daughter with the prince when the Queen wants him with the princess of Austria."

"Hmm." was the only response she received from Benedict. Eloise, already fed up with just hearing about the season, changed the subject and Y/n was also grateful for that. The last thing she wanted was to think about the next ball.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

"What are you going to do?" Hyacinth asked as she helped Y/n and Francesca get ready for ball. The two had already put on their dresses and now all that was left was the jewelry. Kate had already come to say that they would have to leave soon, smiling calmly when she noticed the nervous state of her sister who had changed her dress about five times already.

“About what?”

“About the prince, obviously.”

“I don’t know. I am a little confused. This is all happening so quickly. And the fact that Lady Whistledown wrote about us didn't help. But the truth is that when I'm with him, I don't know, I feel different.” Y/n tried to explain, but realized she couldn't describe her feelings in words. It was something foreign to her, but not unwanted.

“I know what it is. You like him.” the Bridgerton dropped onto the bed dramatically.

“But liking may not be enough. Don't forget that the Queen has a lot of influence on these things. And I wouldn’t want to piss her off, it would only hurt all of you.”

"You are exaggerating. Francesca, what do you think of this?”

“What?” the girl snapped out of her thoughts when she heard her name. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

“What are you thinking about?” Y/n sat next to her, taking her hand.

“I haven't had almost any suitors yet. And the ones I have seem incapable of having a conversation. What if I don’t find anyone?” Francesca revealed with a sigh, her voice tinged with sadness.

“Nonsense. Everyone would love to dance with you. In fact, I have a feeling you are going to meet someone today.” the Sharma said. “And for that to happen, we must leave and go to this ball. If you need to, we can stay together all night.”

“Thank you, but it won’t be necessary. I want you to have your chance with the prince.”

“After all, you were listening!” Hyacinth exclaimed, groaning as the two left the room and left her there. Now she had to wait until tomorrow to find out everything that was going to happen!

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The ball was already full of people, from nervous mothers to innocent daughters who giggled when a suitor asked them to dance. Y/n and Francesca walked in together, both of them taking deep breaths and looking at each other in encouragement. They could do this.

While Francesca's nerves increased as she saw the Queen's eyes fall on her, Y/n's heart began to beat faster when she noticed Charles, who was standing next to his mother. However, he was not alone, finding himself in conversation with the princess of Austria. From what the Sharma could understand from the few moments in which she let herself focus on them, they seemed to be getting along well, sharing polite smiles.

"Maybe we shall get a refreshment first?" Y/n said, seeing that the family had already dispersed.

"A great idea." Francesca swallowed, nodding several times.

The two hurried to a corner of the room, sending a quick smile to the people passing by. Fortunately, no one engaged them in a long conversation, allowing them to mentally prepare themselves to face that night.

They stopped next to Penelope, who looked at the dancing couples with a sad look. "Are you alright, Penelope?"

"Yes, of course, Francesca." the redhead replied shyly, offering a small smile to the two girls. "You ought to take the floor."

"Ought we?" the Bridgerton chuckled humorlessly.

"Once one finds oneself on the wall, it is difficult to come off it. No matter what one does." Penelope looked down, pursing her lips.

"Better to be on the wall than to make fools of ourselves." Y/n she murmured, discreetly looking at the boy who had invaded her heart, still talking to the beautiful princess. Only this time, almost feeling her gaze on him, he glanced at her, showing what appeared to be a genuine smile. "This is so confusing."

"I agree. At least the wall doesn't ask me about what makes me tick." Francesca complained, still upset about the failed conversations from the last ball. The older girl looked at her understandingly, noticing that Francesca was more reserved. Maybe that was what made her rare, different from all the other girls.

"And why are you on the wall, Penelope? I'm sure there are lots of gentlemen here who would be more than willing to ask for your hand in a dance!"

"Oh no. Nobody wants to dance with me. Believe me." she replied with a slight blush, embarrassed that she didn't have any suitors when this wasn't her first season, unlike them.

"They must be blind, then. You are beautiful." Y/n confessed honestly, really confused that they let such an incredible person like Penelope escape. If she could, she would drag the redhead and Francesca to dance, but she knew it was against the rules.

The three fell into a silence, not uncomfortable, but as if they all had more to think about than trying to carry on a conversation. From the other side of the room, Charles watched Sharma as if in a trance, quickly leaving the conversation he was having to go to meet her.

However, he was interrupted by Charlotte who discreetly held his arm. "What are you doing? Must I remind you that you shall marry this season?"

"Why are you putting so much pressure on me with this. You have so many other children, but I'm the only one who has to suffer with this."

"Your siblings reproducing bastards for me to ignore. You are my last hope, son. I have made sure to give so many heirs to your father, and none of my children seem to be fornicating." she said. When she noticed that she was being too harsh with her youngest son, she sighed. "Bridgerton, Charles?"

"What seems to be the problem? You've already accepted many of their marriages, including naming two Bridgertons as diamonds of the season and ignoring the scandal between Lord Bridgerton and Lady Bridgerton." Charles controlled himself not to roll his eyes.

"Yes… But that was until my son was mentioned in the paper of Lady Whistledown because he was just interested in a girl. Especially when the princess of Austria traveled here just to meet you."

"And I enjoyed meeting her. But I enjoyed much more meeting Y/n Sharma." he admitted, his voice conveying the confidence he felt in those words. "She's the one I want. The one I'll follow to the end of the world if necessary. Don't make me marry someone else, mom, I want her. Just her."

"I believe the boy is in love." Lady Dandbury appeared beside them, looking at the boy with knowing eyes. Charlotte glanced at her from the corner of her eye. "The dance they shared was remarkable. The London Season is already terribly monotonous as it is. Therefore, these cases of passion make it more enjoyable. Don't you agree?"

"Indeed, Lady Danbury." Charles nodded, appreciating her help in convincing the Queen. "May I go now?"

Charlotte watched him for a few moments, noticing how he was restless, his body tilted towards Y/n. Almost as if he had no control over himself, unconsciously wanting to always be close to her. This wait was killing him.

The woman didn't respond verbally, just offered a small nod of permission, and her son was gone in the blink of an eye.

Almost running, the prince arrived next to Y/n, who continued to watch people dancing. She was now only with Penelope, as Francesca was taken by Violet to meet some suitors. Charles approached silently, placing himself in her line of sight and simply offering her a hand.

"What are you doing?" she whispered with wide eyes. Beside her, Penelope excused herself, giving the couple space. Not that they paid much attention, appearing not to have even heard her.

"Isn't it obvious? I'm asking you to dance with me."

"You don't give up, do you?" Y/n let a small smile appear, pretending to be upset by the boy's persistence. Inwardly, her heart was beating furiously fast. She didn't want to dance. She wanted to get away from there so she could be with Charles alone, the two of them talking all night.

But their moment was interrupted by Lady Wilson's daughter, who suddenly appeared and grabbed the prince's arm. "Prince Charles, you promised me a dance. Shall we?"

Y/n took a step back, trying to hide her sadness. Charles hadn't even removed her arm from his. This was a reminder that Charles was not yet hers, and with her indecision, that was becoming increasingly difficult. He had so many good options for marriage, why would he choose her? What made her special from all the others?

Trying to make sure no one saw the tears that threatened to appear, the Sharma decided it was best to leave for the rest of the night. Perhaps Anthony and Kate would believe she was feeling unwell and needed to go home.

But before he could move away completely, Charles snapped out of his shock, grabbing Y/n's hand to pull her closer while shaking the other woman's hold.

He clenched his jaw, upset at not being able to have a single moment of peace with Y/n. "My apologies, Miss." Y/n had to put her hand over her mouth to hide her amusement when Charles didn't remember the girl's name. "Right now, I would like to dance with Miss Y/n. So if you will excuse us."

"But—"

"What do you say, Miss Y/n. Shall you give me the pleasure of having this dance?" Charles asked quickly before the annoying girl spoke again. His attention was on Sharma, who was looking at him adoringly. Was this what people felt when they were in love? It felt like he couldn't breathe. In a good way.

"We shall… Charles." she laughed. Charles' mouth opened in shock, appearing to have frozen to the ground. In a playful way, she rolled her eyes, guiding him to the dance floor, which was now empty as people saw the two walk there.

Despite the nerves she felt, Y/n felt good with Charles, so she decided to ignore ton's opinions on this. The boy bowed as he offered her his hand, followed by a bow from Y/n, and immediately the music began.

"You called me Charles."

"A very good observation."

"You know, I thought Lord Bridgerton would kill me the moment I looked at you. It would be worth it." he twirled her around, loving it when he heard her little giggles. When she landed on the ground, her eyes found Kate and Anthony watching them, but instead of upset, they looked happy that Y/n was happy. "I must say that when you said we couldn't meet again, it hurt."

"My deepest apologies. How could I have said such absurd things?" Y/n said dramatically, noticing Charles' amusement.

"All is well now. As long as you promise to not run anymore. Even if Lady Whistledown or someone else writes about us. I promise I won't let anything hurt you or your family."

Y/n focused on his eyes. They were honest and had a glow of adoration about them. "What about the Princess of Austria?"

"As I also told her Majesty, I have no interest in her. My heart already belongs to you, Y/n. No one else can take your place."

The music was slowing down, indicating that it would end soon. The boy gripped Y/n's waist tighter, fearing that he would have to let go when he was enjoying savoring every moment of their closeness.

"My heart belongs to you too, Charles." she scrunched her eyebrows and Charles could feel his heart close to bursting. He wanted to marry her.

Instead, he controlled himself from saying it right away, knowing that he would have to talk to Anthony first and ask for Y/n's hand in marriage. Or he feared the Bridgerton wrath. For now, having Y/n in his arms was enough.

[kokoch4n3l]

˗ˏˋ ve kamleya ࿐ྂ "if you want to do something, go fall in love. fulfill your stubborn wish for once"

summary: in which during a deal with overseas businessmen, bonten finds out about your shitty ex from high school

pairing(s): slight bonten x desi!oc, implied mikey x desi!oc

notes: oc is punjabi cuz I said so and this is also kind of a self-insert so... title from my fav hindi song ve kamleya, the video has eng subs btw. dividers by cafekitsune

warnings: dark content 18+, canon typical violence, drug-related business(opium), drug trafficking, slight misogyny, implied/referenced ptsd, past abusive relationship, mean!manjiro, slight insensitivity, blood and gore, implied torture, implied murder, suggestive themes

word count: 3770

The smoky haze of the dimly lit room hung heavy, casting shadows that danced across the faces of the assembled men. Sano Manjiro, the imposing leader of the Bonten gang, sat at the head of the table, his steely gaze surveying the room with a mixture of authority and calm. Around him sat his trusted lieutenants, each one a force to be reckoned with in their own right. The only woman among them, commanded the attention of the room as she rose to address their guests once again after hours of debate. After all, Sano Manjiro trusted no one else to get this deal done. “I understand the… demand, for opium up in the north of India but you should also know we aren’t lowering our price either” She says in English, tone gentle yet somehow firm at the same time 

Her words hung in the air, a subtle reminder of the strength of their position in the negotiations. The guests shifted uncomfortably, keenly aware of the delicate balance of power at play. "We are prepared to meet your needs," she continued in the same language, her gaze steady. "But it must be on terms that are mutually beneficial."

One man clears his throat and speaks up finally. “You must understand Miss, we have no deficiency of suppliers, especially for opium,” The man says in English with a slight accent behind it as he casually adjusts his gold rings “The stuff from Japan is a lot higher in quality which is why we’re here doing this deal anyway. But we—”

“Because it is a lot higher in quality we cannot lower our price” She interjects with a calm smile “You know, labour costs and all” 

The man's expression tightened, his gaze flickering between her and Sano Manjiro as if weighing his options. Behind him, his companions exchanged cautious glances, sensing the tension in the air. "We understand your position," the man replied finally, his tone conceding to the reality of the situation. "But surely there's room for negotiation."

Her smile remained fixed, though her eyes betrayed no hint of compromise. "Of course, negotiations are always possible," she conceded her voice like velvet over steel. "But we must be clear on one thing: our price reflects not just the quality of our product, but the risks we undertake to supply it."

Akashi Takeomi, silent until now, leaned forward slightly. "Our operations are not without their challenges," he added, his voice low back in the same language, his accent a lot thicker than hers "But for the right partners, we are willing to mitigate those risks."

The men turn to each other and start conversing in another language and at the same time, she quietly translates to Takeomi exactly what they’re saying back in Japanese. She eyes Manjiro who’s standing in front of the large floor-to-ceiling windows of the meeting room. It looked like he was zoned out, staring at the skyline of Tokyo but she and the rest of Bonten knew better than to think that. He was listening alright, even when it didn’t look like he was. The rest were just leaning back in their chairs, bored from the constant debate. “Say, Miss…” One of the men, probably the youngest, says in English with a prominent American accent “I hear you’re from India too. What state?”

She raises her brow at the question but responds anyway. “Punjab”

The other men seem to get excited at her answer. Of course, they would. After all, what language were they speaking this entire time to each other? “Really? I knew I recognized that nose from somewhere” One man switches to Punjabi when addressing her “Women from the north are known for being beautiful. I should have known you were from there”

His change of tone catches Manjiro’s attention and he finally, since the beginning of this meeting, turns to look at the businessmen. He obviously didn’t understand what they said but his instincts were something even the executives were afraid of so she won’t doubt that he had gotten the gist of what had been said. She shifts in her seat, Takeomi and the rest of Bonten looking at her curiously. “As much as I appreciate the flattery, we still aren’t lowering our price” She replies calmly in English, knowing replying back in Punjabi would no doubt make Manjiro aggravated as he liked to know what she was saying at all times

The businessmen exchanged uneasy glances, sensing the shift in the atmosphere. Behind them, Sano Manjiro remained silent, his gaze now fixed on her with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. She knew that he was listening, that every word spoken in his presence was carefully scrutinized for any hint of deception or weakness. The youngest of the group seemed unfazed by her response, pressing on with his attempts at charm. "Come on, sweetheart," he said, an American accent thick even when speaking in Punjabi, with arrogance. "Surely we can come to some sort of arrangement."

Her smile tightened, a glimmer of steel beneath her gentle facade. "I'm afraid not," she replied in English, her tone cool and final. "Our price is non-negotiable."

The tension in the room was palpable, the air heavy with the weight of unspoken threats. It’s just then the door of the meeting room opens revealing a new face. “Sorry I’m late, traffic in Tokyo is—”

Manjiro waves the newcomer off. He was obviously with the other businessmen. The other executives are annoyed as hell with the lateness, after all the meeting had been going on for hours already, but don’t mention it as they’re tired. But that’s when Manjiro notices his only female executive has gone still. She’s frozen which is extremely uncharacteristic of her and it worries him. So he does the first thing that comes to mind. “How about we take a break.” He says, voice low and everyone knows it’s not an offer but a command

Manjiro headed for the door of the meeting room and his executives followed behind, Takeomi having to literally drag her to stand at one point. They’re in the elevator. Manjiro eyes her as she removes her red-bottomed heels from her feet, sighing in relief. The elevator is going up to the top floor. “Any weaknesses so far?” Kakucho asks, his voice breaking the silence

“Punctuality apparently” Ran mutters in annoyance 

They all look toward her, wondering what she had to say but instead, she’s silent, holding her heels in one hand, leaning against the elevator wall looking very out of breath. Rindo snaps his fingers in front of her face. “Dude” he says

“Hm?” she looks up at him, uncharacteristically dazed

Usually, she would have snapped at him, kicked Rindo in the shin or threatened to stab him with her heels but no, she didn’t. It was… concerning. Her uncharacteristic behaviour caught everyone’s attention. She isn’t usually like this— quiet, dazed and unconfident. No one is sure what to say, not even Kakucho who was Bonten’s collective impulse control and unlicenced and unpaid therapist. The elevator reaches the top floor and they file out of the elevator, into the private lounge. They watch in silence as she sits on the long circular-shaped couch, her heels dropped carelessly to the floor as she puts her hair up, revealing the hanafuda full moon tattoo on the back of her neck— on the same location as Manjiro has his. Manjiro takes a seat next to her and the rest sit on the couch too, staring. She looks at them, narrowing her eyes a bit. “What?”

“We should be asking you that” Mochi says as he lights himself a cigarette 

Her gaze lingered on each member of Bonten in turn, her expression inscrutable, as if weighing her words carefully before speaking. The tension in the room tightened like a taut wire, anticipation thrumming through the air. "I'm fine," she finally replied, her tone clipped, though the strain in her voice was evident to those who knew her well. "Too many languages just making my head hurt"

The response did little to ease the unease that had settled over the group like a heavy fog. They had seen her weather countless storms with unyielding resolve, her strength a pillar upon which they had come to rely. But now, faced with her uncharacteristic vulnerability, they found themselves at a loss for how to proceed. Manjiro studied her carefully, his keen eyes searching for any sign of deception or weakness. He knew her better than anyone and understood the walls she erected to shield herself from the world. But beneath the facade of stoicism, he sensed a flicker of genuine concern, a vulnerability she had never shown before. “Nah uh,” Sanzu says rolling his eyes “You started being all weird when the motherfucker who doesn’t know how to be on time showed up”

She shifts uncomfortably. It seems Sanzu’s observation was a hit. Her discomfort was palpable, her usual confidence shaken by the blunt observation. She shifted in her seat, a flicker of uncertainty betraying her stoic facade. The others watched her closely, their expressions a mix of concern and curiosity, unsure of how to proceed. Sanzu's words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the tension that had simmered beneath the surface since the newcomer's arrival. She felt the weight of their expectations bearing down on her, the pressure to maintain her composure in the face of mounting scrutiny. "I..." She began, her voice trailing off as she struggled to find the right words. 

She couldn’t find an excuse. But even as she stayed silent, she could feel the disapproving stares of her companions, their silent judgment weighing heavily upon her. Manjiro, ever the astute leader, sensed her distress and moved to intervene. "Enough," he declared, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "This conversation is over."

His authoritative tone brooked no argument, and the others fell silent, their eyes darting between her and their leader. “Go back to the meeting the rest of you”

Rest of you meaning, everyone leave and Manjiro and her stay. Without a word, the others rose from their seats, casting one last glance at her before filing out of the room. As the door closed behind them, a heavy silence descended, leaving only Manjiro and her alone in the private lounge. Manjiro looks at her, black eyes a bottomless pit of nothing. “What’s wrong?” He asks

There was no room for reflecting on his question. Manjiro was direct and needed answers as to why his best negotiator had suddenly frozen up in the midst of a deal. “You know him” It wasn’t a question this time but an observation

Manjiro understood the intricacies of their world better than anyone, and he knew the dangers that lurked beneath the surface of even the most seemingly innocuous interactions. The newcomer's presence had disrupted the delicate balance of power, setting off alarm bells in her mind that she couldn't ignore. “I um… I…” She isn’t able to get her words out

He gives her a look. “Tell me” It’s a command

She shifts uncomfortably. She fiddles with her white gold rings, they glimmer under the artificial lighting. “That’s my ex…”

Manjiro raises a brow. Her admission hung heavy in the air, the weight of her revelation settling like a leaden cloak upon them both. Manjiro's expression remained unreadable, though a flicker of concern danced in the depths of his obsidian eyes. "Your ex…" he repeated, his voice betraying no emotion.

She nodded, her throat constricting with the weight of unspoken memories and unresolved emotions. She had hoped to keep her past firmly buried in the depths of her mind, but now, confronted with Manjiro's unwavering gaze, she found herself unable to hide the truth any longer. "He... he wasn't supposed to be here," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "I thought... I thought I could handle it, but..."

Her words trailed off, lost in the suffocating silence that enveloped them. She could feel the weight of Manjiro's scrutiny bearing down upon her, his gaze penetrating as he searched for some semblance of understanding in her haunted eyes. “And what did he do for my best negotiator to react like a psychiatric patient just at the sight of him?”

She shifts again but this time he holds her thigh to stop her from moving. There was no getting out of this conversation. Manjiro always got what he wanted and right now he wanted answers. “I… I dated him in high school”

It’s been years. She knows Manjiro is gonna belittle her for being this way over something that ended years ago but… She spills. She tries her best to tell him vaguely what happened— trying to be as vague as possible but Manjiro just keeps asking for more details. He wanted to know everything and once he was satisfied he pulled out his phone and typed something then threw it carelessly on the table. “Is that why you don’t date or sleep around like the others do?” He asks bluntly “Because of what he did?”

Manjiro looked angry. It was odd seeing an actual emotion in his eyes for once even if it was anger. She gulps. Oh man did she hate her stupid ex right now. It had been years since they broke up or well, since she forced the break up because he refused to let her leave. That stupid asshole traumatized her so badly that now even though she was an executive for Japan’s most ruthless and dangerous gang, he made her want to throw up from fear. “I’m sorry—”

“Shut up” Manjiro says lowly but she keeps going

“No, it was extremely unprofessional and I shouldn’t let my personal feelings come in the middle of work—”

He cuts her off again, grabbing her face and squeezing her cheeks together. Her lips jut out a bit from the action. The tips of Manjiro’s fingers dig into her cheeks and her skin warms under his touch, turning the most endearing shade of pink he’s ever seen. “And what exactly are you apologizing for?” Manjiro mutters looking annoyed

She thinks he might just shoot her, empty his Glock out in her head and get Sanzu or Koko to call the cleaners to get rid of her body and turn her into fishbait. “F-For fucking up the deal…” She tries saying as he squeezes her face tighter with the tips of his fingers

Manjiro chuckles and it has to be one of the scariest things she’s heard in her life. “Wrong. Apologize for dating such an ugly little bitch”

“... huh?”

She thinks she’s hearing things. “You heard me,” Manjiro says nonchalantly “apologize” 

Her heart pounded in her chest as she struggled to comprehend the meaning behind his words. Was this some twisted form of punishment? Or was there something else, something more insidious, at play here? With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, She realized that she was treading dangerous waters, her every move scrutinized by the man before her. And as she searched his eyes for some semblance of understanding, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to his demand than met the eye. Sanzu and Rindo often joked that she got away with a lot of things and Manjiro was the most lenient with her. Was Manjiro finally giving her the punishment she deserved for all the other times she fucked up? Oh man, no way she was going to die because of her stupid bitch ass ex. “Hey” He says snapping her out of her thoughts

She looks at him. “The deal is off. I don’t want it to go through anyway”

Her eyes widen at his words. “Wait w-what—”

But Manjiro's expression remained impassive, his gaze unwavering as he met her eyes. There was a hardness in his stare, a determination that sent a shiver down her spine. "I said the deal is off," he repeated, his tone firm.

Her mind raced as she tried to make sense of Manjiro's decision. Was this punishment for her perceived failure? Or was there something else at play, something she couldn't quite grasp? As she searched his eyes for some clue, some hint of understanding, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Manjiro's actions than met the eye. Manjiro's gaze held a steely resolve as she struggled to comprehend his abrupt decision. The implications of the deal falling through reverberated through the room, casting a shadow over their carefully laid plans. But beneath the surface, she sensed a tension, a hidden undercurrent that hinted at something deeper. "Why?" she asked, her voice tinged with confusion and a hint of desperation. "Why cancel the deal?"

Manjiro's expression softened ever so slightly, a flicker of something akin to regret in his eyes. It was a rare moment of vulnerability, one that sent a jolt of uncertainty coursing through her veins. "Because some things are more important than business," Manjiro replied, his voice low and measured.

Her mind raced as she tried to make sense of his cryptic words. What could be more important than securing Bonten's position in the underworld? What could possibly justify throwing away the opportunity they had worked so hard to achieve? But before she can speak, he lets go of her face and his hand slides to the back of her neck, the tips of his fingers now digging into her— his— tattoo. Almost as if he could read her mind he asks, “Are you questioning my authority?”

She doesn’t dare move away from him or shake her no to answer him. Manjiro didn’t like being answered with gestures, he preferred words. “N-No…”

“Good” he says 

Manjiro's hand lingered on the back of her neck, his touch was both possessive and unsettling. She could feel the weight of his gaze upon her, his eyes boring into hers with an intensity that made her breath catch in her throat. His nails slightly dig into the knobs of her spine, right on the tattoo. It doesn’t hurt but it feels hot. One thing Manjiro often reminded her of is that Bonten was his. That included the executives and that especially included her. Her life belonged to him and he clearly wasn’t taking her being afraid of someone that wasn’t him very nicely. “You’re really gonna let a guy like that stop you from ever falling in love again?”

The question almost stopped her heart because it was not what she expected him to ask. She had never expected Manjiro to broach such a sensitive topic, let alone express concern for her romantic endeavours. But beneath the surprise, a flicker of something else stirred within her—a yearning for something more, something beyond the confines of Bonten's ruthless world. "I..." she faltered, her voice barely above a whisper. 

How could she explain the depths of her fear, the scars that her past had left upon her soul? How could she make him understand the tangled web of emotions that had kept her trapped in the shadow of her own memories? But before she could formulate a response, Manjiro's hand tightened on the back of her neck, his grip possessive yet strangely comforting. "You don't have to answer now," he said, his voice softer than before but it quickly went back to being harsh “I am disappointed though”

His hand holding her thigh comes up to hold her cheek now. She’s frozen, unsure of what to do. "How could my executive let a little bitch like that do that to her and not move on for years?" Manjiro's voice was low, his words cutting through the silence like a knife.

Her mind raced as she struggled to find the right words to say. How could she explain the depths of her pain, the scars that her past had left upon her soul? How could she make him understand the tangled web of emotions that had kept her trapped in the shadow of her own memories? But before she could formulate a response, Manjiro's thumb brushed against her cheekbone, his touch both intimate and unsettling. She felt a surge of vulnerability wash over her, a raw honesty that threatened to shatter the carefully constructed walls she had built around her heart. "I... I don't know," She finally whispered, her voice barely above a breath. "I'm sorry..." 

Manjiro's grip on her cheek tightened, his touch both gentle and commanding. He held her gaze with an intensity that made her feel as though he could see straight through to her soul. "Sorry doesn't change the past," he murmured, his voice a low rumble in the quiet room.

She felt a knot form in her stomach at his words, a familiar sense of guilt and inadequacy washing over her. She had spent years trying to bury the pain of her past, to escape the memories that haunted her every waking moment. But now, confronted with Manjiro's unwavering gaze, she couldn't help but feel as though she had failed him in some fundamental way. "I know…" she replied softly, her voice barely audible above the sound of her own heartbeat.

Manjiro's thumb traced a slow, soothing pattern against her cheekbone, his touch a silent reassurance amidst the storm of emotions raging within her. Finally, after a long moment of silence, he speaks up “Fall in love again…”

His words are unexpected but she also makes no move to pull back from him. “Is that an order, Mr. Sano?”

Finally, Manjiro smiles. It’s genuine. Or at least it seems genuine. “Yes. Yes it is”

“Did you call the clean-up crew?” Ran asks Koko who’s cleaning the blood of his shoes

Koko nods wordlessly, a look of annoyance on his face as he had just bought these damn shoes yesterday. “Let’s go back up” Takeomi says as he lights a cigarette, stepping over a dead body of one of the businessmen

“Maybe not” Kakucho interjects as his eyes are on his phone, cheeks a little flushed

He shoves it into his pocket and shakes his head at his fellow colleagues. For a moment they’re silent until— “fuckin’ hell” Mochi grumbles as he transfers 10 thousand into Ran’s account

“See I fuckin’ told you he’d fuck her” Ran says with a shrug, eyes lighting up at the notification on his phone signalling the transfer had been made and completed

Their conversation is cut out with a loud scream as Sanzu stabs his katana through her ex’s chest. They look towards him and the pink-haired male simply shrugs. 

[jeannereames]

How many love interest did Alexander have in all of his life? I just recently found out he had an affair with a prostitute named Camaspe and apparently she was the one who was the first to have a physical relationship with him although not for long.

Love your work! 💕

Alexander’s Reported Lovers

Just an FYI … Kampaspe (Campaspe in Latin, also Pancaste) is a character in the second volume of Dancing with the Lion (Rise), as I wanted a second female voice and also a slave’s perspective. Even better that she was born to privilege, then lost it. She was reportedly a Thessalian hetaira from Larissa, which was handy as the Argeads had a long history of ties to the city of Larissa. I wrote about her before in a post from the blog tour the publisher had me do when the books first came out. You can read it HERE.

That said, she’s probably a Roman-era invention, mentioned only by late sources (Lucian, Aelian, and Pliny) all with one (repeated) story: Alexander as Super-patron. Reputedly, he gave her to his favored painter Apelles when, commissioned to do a nude,  Apelles fell in love with her. Alexander kept the painting, Apelles got the girl. You bet I’ll have some fun with that. Kampaspe will remain a major character throughout the series…but not as Alexander’s mistress.

When trying to figure out how many sexual partners Alexander had, we must ask which were invented—or denied. Remember: ancient history wasn’t like modern (academic) history. It was essentially creative non-fiction. It inserted speeches, dialogue, even people and events to liven things up and/or to make a moral point. Or it obscured people and events, if that worked better.

Modern readers of ancient sources must always ask WHO wrote this, WHEN was it written, and what POINT did the author intend? Also, especially with anecdotes, look at the wider context. People are especially prone to take anecdotes at face value and treat them as isolated little tales. Yet CONTEXT IS KING.

A lot of our information about Alexander’s love life comes from Plutarch, either in his Life of Alexander or his collection of essays now called the Moralia. Another source is Curtius’s History of Alexander. And finally, Athenaeus’s Diepnosophistai or The Supper Party (really, The Learned Banqueters). All wrote during the Roman empire and had tropes and messages to get across.

Of the WOMEN associated with Alexander, I’m going to divide them into the historical and the probably fictional, or at least their relationship with Alexander was fictional.

Of the certain, we can count one mistress, three wives, and one probable secret/erased liaison.

Barsine is his first attested mistress for whom we have ample references across multiple sources. Supposedly, she bore Alexander a son (Herakles). Herakles certainly existed, but whether he was Alexander’s is less clear to me. As the half-Persian, half-Greek daughter of a significant satrap, she had no little influence. Monica D’Agostini has a great article on Alexander’s women, btw, in a forthcoming collection I edited for Colloquia Antiqua, called Macedon and Its Influences, and spends some time on Barsine. So look for that, probably in 2025, as we JUST (Friday) submitted the last of the proof corrections and index. Whoo! Anyway, Monica examines all Alexander’s (historical) women in—you guessed it!—their proper context.

Alexander also married three times: Roxane, daughter of the warlord Oxyartes of Sogdiana, in early 327. He married again in mid-324 in Susa, both Statiera (the younger), daughter of Darius, and Parysatis, youngest daughter of the king before Darius, Artaxerxes III Ochus. Yes, both at once, making ties to the older and the newer Achaemenid royal lines.

Out of all these, he had only one living son, Alexander IV (by Roxane)—although he got his women pregnant four times. If we can trust a late source (Metz Epitome), and I think we can for this, Roxane had a miscarriage while in India. Also, Statiera the younger was reputedly pregnant when Roxane, with Perdikkas’s help, killed her just a few days (or hours!) after Alexander died.

That’s 3 …who had baby #4?

Statiera the Elder, Darius’s wife. Netflix’s proposal of a liaison between them was not spun out of thin air. Plutarch—the same guy who tells us ATG never even looked at her—also tells us she died in childbirth just a week or three before the battle of Gaugamela, Oct. 1, 331. Keep in mind, Alexander had captured her right after Issos, Nov. 5, 333. Um … that kid wasn’t Darius’s. And if you think ANYbody would have been allowed to have an affair with such a high-ranking captive as the Great-King’s chief wife, I have some swampland in Florida to sell you. More on it HERE.

Now, for the probably fictional….

Kampaspe, I explained above.

Kallixena was supposedly hired by Philip and Olympias (jointly!) to initiate Alexander into sex, because he didn’t seem interested in women. (Yes, this little titbit is also in Rise.) Athenaeus reports the story as a digression on Alexander’s drinking, and how too much wine led to his lack of sexual interest. But within the anecdote, the reported reason for his parents’ hiring Kallixena was because mommy and daddy feared Alexander was “womanish” (gunnis).

Thaïs was linked to him by Athenaeus, almost certainly based on her supposed participation in the burning of Persepolis…which didn’t happen (or not as related; archaeology tosses cold water on it). Thaïs was Ptolemy’s mistress, and the mother of some of his children.

Athenaeus also mentions a couple unnamed interests, but all illustrate the same point: Alexander is too noble to steal somebody else’s love. Two are back-to-back: the flute-girl of a certain Theodoros, Proteas’ brother, and the lyre player of Antipatrides. The last is a boy, the eromenos of a certain Kalchis, a story related apart from the women, but with the same point.

Even more clearly fictional are his supposed encounters with the Amazon Queen Thalestris and Queen Kleophis of the Massaga (in Pakistan). Reportedly, as Onisikritos was reading from his history of Alexander at the court of King Lysimachos (who’d been a close friend, remember), Lysimachos burst out laughing when Onisikritos got to the Amazon story, and asked, “Where was I when this happened?”

Now, when it comes to his MEN/BOYS, the ice is thinner as no names are definitively given except Bagoas (in a couple sources, chiefly Curtius and Athenaeus). We also have a few generic references to pretty boys, as with Kalchis’s boyfriend mentioned above, and some slave boys offered by a certain Philoxenos, who he turns down, a story told by both Plutarch and Athenaeus.

Curtius alone suggests two more, but at least one is meant to show Alexander’s descent into Oriental Corruption(tm), so it’s possible Curtius made them up. At the very least, he used them for his own narrative purposes. Sabine Müller has a great article on this, albeit in German. Still, if you can read German: “Alexander, Dareios und Hephaistion. Fallhöhen bei Curtius Rufus.” In H. Wulfram, ed., Der Römische Alexanderhistoriker Curtius Rufus: Erzähltechnik, Rhetorik, Figurenpsychologie und Rezeption. Vienna: Austrian Academy of Sciences Press, 2016, 13-48.

Romans had a certain dis-ease with “Greek Love,” especially when it involved two freeborn men. Fucking slaves was fine; they’re just slaves. Citizen men with citizen boys…that’s trickier.

Curtius labels two youths “favorites,” a phrasing that implies a sexual affair. One is mentioned early in the campaign (Egypt) when Alexander is still “good”; the other after Alexander begins his slide into Persian Debauchery. These are Hektor, Parmenion’s son (good), and Euxinippos, described as being as pretty as Hephaistion, but not as “manly” (bad). Curtius employs Bagoas similarly, even claims he influenced imperial policy for his own dastardly goals. Gasp!

Yes, of course I’m being sarcastic, but readers need to understand the motifs that Curtius is employing, and what they really mean. Not what 21st century people assume they mean, or romantically want them to mean. (See my "Did Bagoas Exist?" post.)

What about Hephaistion? I’ve discussed him elsewhere in an article, but I’ll just remind folks that it’s nowhere made explicit until late sources, in large part because, by the time we meet Alexander and Hephaistion in the histories, they were adults, and any affair between them would be assumed to have occurred in the past, when they were youths. (See my “It’s Complicated” and a reply to them maybe being “DudeBros.”)

This is why we hear about Alexander’s interest in youths, not adult men. It would be WEIRD to the ancient mind (= Very Very Bad) if he liked adult men. In fact, by comparing Hephaistion to Euxinippos, Curtius slyly insinuates that maybe he and Alexander were still…you know (wink, wink). That’s meant to be a slam against Alexander (and Hephaistion)! Therefore, we cannot take it, in itself, as proof of anything. Alexander’s emotional attachment to Hephaistion, however, is not doubted by any ancient source.

So, all those people are attached to Alexander in our sources, but over half may not be real, or at least, may not have had a sexual relationship with him. There may be (probably are) some that simply didn’t make it into the surviving sources.

Yet I’ve mentioned before that we just don’t find sexual misconduct as one of Alexander’s named faults. Even Curtius and Justin must dig for it/make up shit, such as claiming Alexander actually used Darius’s whole harem of concubines or held a drunken revel through Karia after escaping the Gedrosian Desert. (Blue Dionysos and drag queens on the Seine at the Paris Olympics got nothing on his Dionysian komos!)

Drink, anger, hubris…he sure as hell ticked all those boxes. But not sex. In fact, a number of sources imply he just wasn’t that randy, despite his “choleric” temperament. Some of the authors credit too much drink (bad), others, his supreme self-control (good). He’s more often an example of sexual continence—as in the stories from Athenaeus related above. He also didn’t rape his captives, etc., etc.

Make of that what you like, but I find it intriguing.

[rayspookyhistory]

✧༺┆✦The Matriarchal Societies✦┆༻✩

Matriarchal societies, where women occupy primary power roles in political, social, and economic realms, have existed across various cultures and historical periods. Distinguished by matrilineal descent, communal decision-making, and significant female authority, these societies present alternative models of social organization.

Characteristics of Matriarchal Societies

Matrilineal Descent

A hallmark of matriarchal societies is matrilineal descent. Family lineage, property, and titles are inherited through the mother’s line, ensuring continuity and stability as women control familial and economic resources. Matriarchs play central roles in family organization, often making key decisions about marriage, property distribution, and household management.

Political Authority

Women in matriarchal societies frequently hold significant political positions such as chiefs, queen mothers, or council leaders. Their leadership is active and involves governance and decision-making. Community councils, typically composed of elder women, guide community policies and resolve disputes, ensuring that women's perspectives are central to governance.

Economic Control

Women typically control property and land, managing and passing them down to their daughters. This economic power underpins their social authority and community status. They oversee the allocation of resources within the community, ensuring equitable distribution and the well-being of all members.

Cultural and Spiritual Roles

Women often serve as spiritual leaders, shamans, or priestesses, conducting important rituals and ceremonies. As custodians of spiritual knowledge and cultural traditions, women preserve and transmit cultural heritage through storytelling, education, and ritual practices, maintaining the community's identity and values.

Historical and Contemporary Examples

The Hopi (Native Americans)

The Hopi people, residing in north-eastern Arizona, follow a matrilineal system where clan membership and inheritance pass through the female line. Women own the land and homes, and they play significant roles in agricultural activities. Female elders influence decision-making processes, particularly regarding community welfare and cultural traditions.

The Ashanti (West Africa)

The Ashanti people of Ghana practice a matrilineal system in which lineage and inheritance pass through the mother's line. The Queen Mother holds significant political influence, including the authority to select the Asantehene (king). Women are key figures in trade and local markets, controlling the distribution of goods and resources.

The Baganda (Uganda)

In Buganda, a kingdom within Uganda, women hold crucial roles in the matrilineal descent system. The Namasole (queen mother) has substantial political influence and advises the Kabaka (king). Women manage household economies, control land inheritance, and are active in agricultural production, ensuring the community's sustenance.

The Mosuo (China)

Located near Lugu Lake in the Yunnan and Sichuan provinces, the Mosuo people practice a unique form of matrilineal descent. Extended families live in large households managed by the matriarch. The Mosuo have "walking marriages," where men visit their partners at night and return to their maternal homes in the morning. Children remain with their mothers, and maternal uncles play significant roles in their upbringing. Women control the household economy, manage agricultural activities, and are involved in local trade and tourism.

The Khasi (India)

The Khasi people of Meghalaya in north-eastern India follow a matrilineal system where property and family names are inherited through the female line. The youngest daughter, known as the "Ka Khadduh," inherits the ancestral property and is responsible for taking care of the elderly parents. Khasi women play central roles in household management, local commerce, and cultural rituals.

The Igbo (Nigeria)

Among the Igbo people of Nigeria, certain communities practice matrilineal descent, particularly in the inheritance of property and titles. Women are influential in trade and local markets, actively participating in community decision-making processes. Female-led organizations and associations play crucial roles in maintaining social order and cultural traditions.

The Minangkabau (Indonesia)

The Minangkabau, located in West Sumatra, are the world's largest matrilineal society. Property and family names are inherited through women. Women manage the household and family inheritance, while men handle external political relations. The role of "Bundo Kanduang" (the revered mother) symbolizes female authority and wisdom. Women play central roles in cultural ceremonies, such as weddings and funerals, reinforcing their social status and authority.

The Tuareg (Sahara Desert)

The Tuareg people, living in the Sahara Desert across Mali, Niger, Algeria, and Libya, practice matrilineal descent. Property and family tents are inherited through the female line. Women have significant autonomy and can initiate divorce. They control family wealth and manage household affairs. Women are custodians of the family's history and traditions, passing down cultural knowledge through oral traditions and music.

The Trobriand Islanders (Papua New Guinea)

The Trobriand Islanders of Papua New Guinea follow a matrilineal system where lineage and inheritance are passed through the mother’s line. Women control the distribution of yam, a staple crop that signifies wealth and social status. Female leaders, known as "dauk," play essential roles in community decision-making and cultural rituals.

The Iroquois Confederacy (North America)

The Haudenosaunee (Iroquois) society, located in the north-eastern United States, is matrilineal, with clans led by elder women known as Clan Mothers. Clan Mothers have the authority to nominate and depose male leaders (sachems). They play a vital role in maintaining the Great Law of Peace, which governs the confederacy. Women are central to agricultural practices, growing the "Three Sisters" crops (corn, beans, and squash), which are crucial to the community's sustenance.

Modern Implications and Interpretations

Matriarchal societies offer models of gender equality and demonstrate that societies can thrive with women in central roles. These societies challenge the notion that patriarchal structures are necessary for social stability. The emphasis on matrilineal descent and female authority helps preserve cultural traditions, ensuring the continuity of community identity. Women's control over resources often leads to more sustainable and equitable economic practices, benefiting the community as a whole.

Challenges and Misconceptions

Common misconceptions suggest that matriarchal societies simply reverse the power dynamics of patriarchy, with women dominating men. However, these societies often emphasize balance, cooperation, and mutual respect between genders. Patriarchal societies may resist the idea of matriarchy, viewing it as a threat to established power structures, leading to the marginalization and misrepresentation of matriarchal communities.

Matriarchal societies provide valuable insights into alternative social structures where women hold central roles in political, social, and economic spheres. These societies demonstrate the viability of matrilineal and matriarchal systems, offering models for more balanced and equitable gender dynamics. Understanding these societies broadens perspectives on power distribution, gender roles, and cultural practices, challenging the dominance of patriarchal paradigms in historical and contemporary contexts. They highlight the potential for diverse forms of social organization that prioritize cooperation, sustainability, and equality.

[onomatopiya]

[ID: An image of a salmon-hued sky with four birds silhouetted against it. In the bottom right corner, white text reads, "onomatopiya." End ID]

ABOUT

what's up! my name's piya (any pronouns), and i'm an indian-american writer hanging out in this small corner of the internet <33 this is a little wip directory with a bit of info about each of my writing projects, but you can also find my Official Author Carrd here if you want to see my published work. also please feel free to send me an ask or a message if you want to say hi!!

MY PROJECTS

[Image ID: A shadowed crowd cast in red and black hues. Text over the image reads, "Revolution, Retribution." End ID]

In New India, a hypercapitalist country rebuilt from the ashes of apocalypse, twins Lila and Lahar set out to cure the plague killing those on the outskirts of their country. But, after a shocking betrayal that leaves them exiled, both turn to new plans of their own, Lila at the center of a violent revolution and Lahar working to infiltrate the government to clear his and Lila’s names. But revolution and retribution both come with a price, and this game of fierce, cutthroat politics is not one that anyone can walk away from unscathed.

tag | page

[Image ID: A bronze and black background. Text over the image reads "Fever Gods," though the 'o' has been replaced with a serpent's skull. End ID]

At the very center of the largest city in the world, Arthur Carrion, the mayor's youngest child, is kidnapped a day before he is set to join the war being waged by the Auric Church against the rest of the world. Caught in a web of secrets spun by his family and hunted by the city he was raised in, Arthur must decide for himself his path forward. But there are those who would control him to see the war to its end, and it’s only a matter of time before he has to stop running.

tag

[Image ID: A gold-hued fern cast in shadow. Text over the image reads, "Play Dead." End ID]

Isaac Robinson is obsessive, jealous, and desperate to duct-tape his broken pieces together after dropping out of school when he meets Sawyer Dean: equally obsessive, charming yet cruel, and eager to be free of his family as he moves states for med school. As Isaac and Sawyer's lives intertwine, both find themselves growing more and more infatuated with the rush that comes with violence as the thing between them grows stranger and more twisted with every passing day.

tag | intro post

[Image ID: A purple-hued image with the silhouette of a woman with her hands clasped behind her head in the center. Text over the image reads, "Adored." End ID]

All art is made great by fighting for it. This is the truth that Adona Graves has used to tip the scales to her advantage her entire life. It’s the truth that got her into the most prestigious arts school in the world, and it’s the truth that’s going to keep her at the top of her game if she can manage to keep her secrets locked away. But Adona’s drug habits and nights spent kissing nameless girls are a mark on her reputation waiting to happen, and there’s a certain Briar Halse who Adona can almost swear is watching her every move.

tag

[scotianostra]

James Allan Mollison was born on April 19th 1905 in Glasgow.

Graeme Obree, Chris Hoy and a certain steam train have all bee called The Flying Scotsman in their time, but the original title goes to a man who actually did fly, Jim Mollison.

Jim would go on to become a pioneering aviator, breaking records for long distance flights. His marriage to fellow aviator Amy Johnson also saw them lauded as the golden couple during their time together.

Born the only child of Hector Alexander Mollison, a consultant engineer, and Thomasina Macnee Addie. He was educated at The Glasgow Academy and Edinburgh Academy and took an early interest in flying and obtaining his Royal Air Force (RAF) Short Service Commission at 18, he was the youngest officer in the service, and upon completion of training was posted to India, flying on active service in Waziristan.

At the age of 22, Mollison became a flying instructor at Central Flying School (CFS), again setting the record for being the youngest in this role. Shortly after, he transferred to the RAF Reserve and devoted his time to civil aviation. In 1928-29, he served as an instructor with the South Australian Aero Club in Adelaide, leaving that position to become a pilot with Eyre Peninsular Airways and Australian National Airways.

In July-August 1931, Mollison set a record time of eight days, 19 hours for a flight from Australia to England, and in March 1932, a record for flying from England to South Africa in 4 days, 17 hours flying a de Havilland Puss Moth.

Mollison eventually served in the ATA Air Transport Auxiliary in the Second World War. In June 1941 Mollison and an ATA crew delivered Cunliffe-Owen OA-1 G-AFMB to Fort Lamy, Chad. The aircraft was fitted out as a personal transport for General De Gaulle.

Mollison was feted in London and New York, and could lead the life he had always wanted. “I am a night bird,” he once said. “Life and enjoyment begin when daylight fades. Cocktail bars and clubs, music, beautiful women— that’s living. Daylight comes to me as an interval for sleeping until an afternoon drink helps to bring on another evening.” His autobiography was called “Playboy of the Air”.

When Mollison and Amy Jonson married in 1932 the press were delighted, they were dubbed The Flying Sweethearts by the press and public. . The match was was perfect for the publicity machine, and the two of them set about devising new aviation records: in 1933 they flew together from Wales to New York and had a ticker-tape reception in Wall Street. But marriage did not last long or end well. It has sometimes been assumed that the match was a simple career move on Mollison's part: certainly he did not halt his relationships with other women. Nor did it limit his drinking. As I said earlier, he got the tag “ the Flying Scotsman” but those close to him called him “Brandy Jim”.

As well as his Playboy lifestyle and heavy drinking Jim Mollison was also quick with his fists, and a manager from the Grosvenor House Hotel was reported as saying ” We've had the most awful night here. Jim Mollison and Amy Johnson had a fearful row and he's beaten her up. The bathroom looks like a slaughterhouse.” The marriage officially ended in 1938.

Mollison kept flying, and – like Johnson – flew in a non-combat role in WWII. Both of them flew in the Air Transport Auxiliary. Johnson died in 1941 after baling out of aircraft. Mollison had at least one close escape, when his plane was shot up, but survived the war.

Mollison later settled in London and ran a public house. He married Maria Clasina E. Kamphuis in 1949 at the Maidenhead Register Office. Mollison continued to abused alcohol and in 1953, the Civil Aviation Authority Medical Board revoked his pilot's licence. The couple separated but Maria bought the Carisbrooke Hotel in Surbiton for him – a temperance hotel.

Suffering from acute alcoholism, he was admitted to The Priory, Roehampton, southwest London, where he died on 30 October 1959, the official cause of death was pneumonia, but unofficially it was thought to be alcoholic epilepsy.

[royallyxmessy]

{emma corrin , 28, nonbinary, they/them} we are so glad to see you safe, PRINCESS MATHILDA HATZFELD of GERMANY! it’s dangerous out in the world these days, but i hear that you are SPIRITED and PASSIONATE enough to handle it. just don’t let your JUDGEMENT bring you down! stay on your guard, because with your secret being at risk for exposure, you wouldn’t want everyone to find out YOU SECRETLY BLAME YOUR ELDER SISTER FOR BEING COMPLICIT IN YOUR BROTHER’S DEATH. {betty, 32,est, she/her}

Facts

Name: Mathilda "Matty" Hatzfeld

Birthday: July 20, 1743

Title: princess of Germany

Traits: spirited, passionate, musical, judgmental, obstinate

A Story

They had never been what one would call a happy child, though, in the Hatzfeld family that was hardly saying anything. Relationships within the family were never easy and Matty was the youngest of the bunch; their siblings often went off to their own devices, leaving the openly obstinate Mathilda to be reprimanded by the governess. If they had been a person who craved affection, once upon a time, they hardly remembered it now. Cuddling and closeness were not part of the Hatzfeld family values. Their father appreciated things over people and the court seemed to follow suit. It was a somewhat gilded life, pretty on the outside, but empty within. Matty was not heir, nor spare, nor subject to the charmed indifference that Stefan held. Instead, they grew to define theirself by what they were not. They would never be a rose, so they became a thorn. They had never had closeness, but they would at least garner attention.

That crossness was the last memory that Matty would have of their father before his murder. They had quarreled, as they usually did, and Matty had been sent off to their room. It was the last time Matty would see their father alive. Soon enough, Elias was king and they were in India with no time to process the loss of their father and the new hierarchy of the family. Matty had never been one to bow to authority and thus, they gave their older brother the same sort of hell they'd given their father. They could see how heavy sat the weight of the crown, of course, but it was not as if Matty had ever gotten to be close with their siblings, had ever learned a love language outside of needling. When it was revealed that they were broke and Elias had made an alliance with Japan, Matty gave Elias even more hell. To all the world, it had probably seemed as if Matty despised him, but it was the only love they knew how to show. When he was gone, too, the fingers pointed at the Hatzfelds. After all, had not Matty been vocally opposed? In the end, the tribunal found nothing to connect Matty to the crime, though many were suspicious. Even so, Matty knew who had gained from their brother's death and it was someone quite close to home. Matty isn't sure if it is just their brother that Liesel wished to get out of the way or their father too. It's left the youngest Hatzfeld suspicious, watching their back at every turn. After all, who can one trust if not family?

[mariacallous]

Joshua Hangshing’s 7-year-old son died less than an hour after being shot in the head. But it wasn’t the bullet that killed him.

On June 4, Hangshing set off from a relief camp in the Kangpokpi district of the northeastern Indian state of Manipur. He and his family had moved there for safety after fighting broke out the month before between the state’s majority Meitei community and the minority Kuki-Zo. Clashes had erupted that day just a mile away from the camp, so Hangshing ventured out to fetch water in case they needed to take shelter for a prolonged period.

As he returned to the camp, he saw Tonsing, his youngest child, waving gleefully at him from a first-floor window. Then Tonsing fell, shot in the head. “It couldn’t have been a stray bullet,” Hangshing says. “I suspect it was a sniper.”

Tonsing was still breathing when Hanshing reached him, but he had lost a lot of blood. When an ambulance arrived, Hanshing stayed behind while his wife went with their son to the nearest hospital, 10 miles away in the capital city of Imphal. They were halfway there when they were ambushed by militants, who set fire to the ambulance. Tonsing and his mother, Meena, were burnt alive.

The brutal murder of two innocent people is the kind of horror that should have made the news across India, even across the world. But Hanshing’s story is only coming out now, months on, because of an internet blackout covering the whole of Manipur. At least 180 people have died, and more than 60,000 people have been made homeless. Villages have been set alight and neighbors have lynched neighbors as the authorities fail to control the escalating violence. For three months, hidden from the eyes of the world, Manipur has burned in the dark.

The relationship between the predominantly Hindu Meitiei community, which makes up 53 percent of Manipur’s population, and the Kuki community, which accounts for 28 percent and is largely Christian, has long been frosty.

But the situation has deteriorated rapidly this year. A military coup and civil war in neighboring Myanmar has led to thousands of refugees moving into Manipur. Many of the new arrivals are of Kuki-Chin-Zo ethnicity, who are culturally and ethnically close to the local Kuki population. Some in the Meitei community have seen this as a threat to their political dominance. In late March, a court in Manipur awarded the Meitei “tribal status”—a protected status that gives them access to economic benefits and quotas for government jobs, and allows them to purchase land in the hillside areas where Kuki tribes are concentrated.

Kuki groups say giving the majority community access to minority protections will strengthen the Meitei’s stronghold over the state. Meitei groups accuse Kukis of importing weapons from Myanmar to fight a civil war. On May 3, some from the Kuki community staged a rally in Churachandpur district to protest the court ruling. After the protest, an Anglo-Kuki War memorial gate—marking a war between Kukis and the British in 1917—in Churachandpur was set on fire by Meiteis, which triggered riots that killed 60 in the first four days.

It was just the start of a wildfire of violence that would spread across the state, with barbaric murders, beheadings, gang rapes, and other crimes. Outnumbered, the minority Kukis have suffered most.

But as the fighting began, on May 4, the Indian government did what it has done time and time again when faced with internal conflict. It shut off the internet.

The national government has the power to order telecom providers to stop providing fixed-line and mobile internet, using an emergency law. It did it 84 times in 2022 and 106 times in 2021, according to Access Now, a nongovernmental organization that tracks internet disruptions.

Most of the shutdowns were in the disputed territory of Kashmir, but they have been applied across the country. In December 2019, internet shutdowns were imposed in parts of Delhi, Uttar Pradesh, Karnataka, Assam, and Meghalaya after protests over a proposed citizenship law that would have rendered hundreds of thousands of Muslims stateless. In January and February 2021, the internet was disrupted around Delhi, where farmers were protesting agricultural reforms.

The justification for these shutdowns is that it stops disinformation from spreading on social media and helps keep a lid on unrest. In May, in Manipur, the government said the blackout was “to thwart the design and activities of anti-national and anti-social elements and to maintain peace and communal harmony … by stopping the spread of misinformation and false rumors through various social media platforms such as WhatsApp, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, etc. … ” It didn’t work.

On the first day of the shutdown, a Meitei mob went on a rampage in Imphal, seeking out Kukis to attack. As the violence spread, two young Kuki women in their early twenties huddled in their room above a carwash, where they worked part time. But the mob found them. Witnesses told the women’s families that seven Meitei men barged into their room and locked the door from inside. For two hours, the door remained shut. People outside could hear the screams of the women, which became muffled with time. When the door opened, the two women were dead. The families are certain their daughters were raped before being murdered.

The father of one of the women, whom WIRED is not identifying in order to protect the identity of his daughter, says he was told by a nurse at a hospital in Imphal that his child had been killed. Nearly three months after her death, her body is still in Imphal, along with dozens of unclaimed bodies rotting in the city hospitals because the Kuki families in the hills can’t go to Imphal Valley to claim them.

“It was her dream to become a beautician and start her own parlor. She always wanted to be financially independent,” the father says. She had finished her course in Imphal and was tantalizingly close to living her dream. About two months before the incident, she had rented a place in the city where she could open her beauty parlor. “She took up a part-time job to support her dream,” her father says. “She was excited about her future.”

The violence between the two communities has spiraled. Nearly 4,000 weapons have reportedly been stolen from the police, according to local media. Some Kukis have accused the police—many of whom are from Meitei communities—of standing by while Kukis are being attacked, and even of supporting Meitei extremist groups. Hangshing’s wife and son were killed despite a police escort. “How did the mob burn down the ambulance in police presence?” he says. “What did the police do to protect my wife and son?”

The police in Imphal declined to comment.

Today there is almost complete separation between the two communities, both of whom have their private militias protecting their territories. Kuki areas in Imphal are completely deserted. Meiteis in Kuki-dominated districts have been driven out of the hills.

At a relief camp opened in a trade center in Imphal, Budhachandra Kshetrimayum, a Meitei private school teacher, says his village, Serou in the Kakching district, was attacked by Kuki militants on the night of May 28. “The firing started out of nowhere,” he says. “They barged into the village and began torching the Meitei houses.”

Kshetrimayum had two options: either stay inside and be burned with his house, or run to the house of a local lawmaker for safety and risk being shot dead on the way. He chose the latter. “Luckily, I survived the firing and reached his house, where several other Meiteis were hiding,” he says. “His bodyguards were on the roof, firing back at the Kukis so they couldn’t come and get us.”

The next morning, Kshetrimayum found his house reduced to rubble.

Not too far from his home lived the widow of a leading fighter for India’s independence against Great Britain. “When I went closer, I realized that they had burnt the house with his 80-year-old wife inside it,” he says. “I could see her skull amid the debris. Since that night, I have been living in relief camps. I wear other people’s clothes. I eat other people’s food. I am a refugee in my own state.”

These aren’t isolated stories. Across the state, I heard eyewitness accounts of lynchings and murders, rapes, riots, and the burning of homes. After largely ignoring the crisis in Manipur for weeks, over the past couple of weeks, journalists from across India have descended on the state, thanks to a single video that leaked out from under the shroud of the blackout.

It’s not clear how the footage got out. But the 26-second video was posted on Twitter on July 20. It shows two Kuki women in Kangokpi being stripped and paraded naked by a mob. The women’s families say they were later gang-raped.

The video shook the conscience of India and shed light on the gravity of the situation in the state. It compelled Prime Minister Narendra Modi to speak about Manipur for the first time, 77 days after the violence broke out. “Any civil society should be ashamed of it,” he said.

After the police arrested one person accused of participating in the attack, N. Biren Singh, the chief minister of Manipur, tweeted that strict action would be taken against all the perpetrators. But the incident had happened months before, on May 4, the first day of the blackout. The husband of one of the women in the video claims that the police were on the spot when it happened, but did nothing to stop it. In other words, the police were compelled to take action after the video went viral. And this is just one sexual assault—one of many crimes—that’s happened in Manipur since May. The perpetrators in other cases are roaming free because there is no video to shame the authorities into pursuing them.

"The video that went viral is just the tip of the iceberg,” says TS Haokip, president of the Kuki-Zo Intellectual Council, an NGO formed by Kuki writers and teachers. “It is one case in which the state has acted because it went viral and caused a great deal of embarrassment to the state. But what about other victims who have suffered in obscurity?"

Indian authorities say that internet shutdowns like Manipur are done to preserve the peace, to stop misinformation spreading online and reassert control. Experts say they have the opposite effect. They allow impunity for crimes and for those who fail to pursue them. Had locals in Manipur been able to draw attention to the situation as it got out of control, the anarchy that followed might have been avoided. But the silence over the state meant the national government could feign ignorance. Human rights groups said they couldn’t collect evidence of violations or distribute them to colleagues overseas.

The blackouts cause further disruption to an economy made fragile by the violence, and hinder aid groups as they try to collect funds for relief work.

Young Vaiphei Association, a nonprofit organization, operates five relief camps in Churachandpur district, housing 5,000 people. Lainzalal Vaiphei, convener of the relief committee, says they’ve had to raise funds door-to-door. “But because the state is in a limbo, people have suffered economically as well. They don’t have money to donate.” Had the internet been operational in Manipur, the organization could have tapped donors from outside the state through social media, and raised money for medicines. “We are barely managing our resources,” Vaiphei says.

In such a volatile atmosphere, shutting down communications doesn't stop misinformation. Rumors always spread fast in conflicts; blacking out the internet often just means that there’s no way to verify whether the accounts that are spreading them are genuine.

“The disinformation still spreads but it is not being countered,” says Raman Jit Singh Chima, Asia policy director at Access Now. Most fact-checkers are independent journalists or operate in small newsrooms. Even if they can fact-check a doctored video or a false claim, they have no way to spread their work widely.

This can help fuel violence, creating monopolies on information and allowing more extreme voices to dominate. “Shutdowns like these actually benefit the perpetrators in a conflict situation,” Chima says. “Whoever is more powerful or networked on the ground gets to set the narrative.”

As the two women in the July 4 video were paraded around the village, the inebriated men around them shouted, “We will do to you what your men did to our women.” The men claimed to be “avenging” a Meitei woman who had been allegedly raped and killed in the Kuki-dominated district of Churachandpur. A photograph claiming to be of her dead body wrapped in a plastic bag had made the rounds in Manipur. Except the woman in the photograph was from Delhi. The story was a fabrication.

The violence in Manipur has ruptured communities and left families with no way back to their old lives. For Neng Ja Hoi, a relief camp in K Salbung of Churachandpur district is now her home. On May 3, her husband, Seh Kho Haokipgen, was lynched while guarding their village of K Phaijang. Violence broke out and the police fired teargas. “He fell down during the commotion,” says Neng. “He somehow managed to get up but his vision was blurred because of the teargas. He ran for his life but he ran toward the Meitei mob, which beat him to death.”

Neng hasn’t really come to terms with her husband’s passing. “He was a religious pastor, and he traveled quite a bit for work,” she says, cradling her 11-month old baby, tears rolling down her face. “I tell myself he is still on one of his long religious journeys. He was the sole breadwinner of the house. How will I look after my kids?”

She sleeps in a tent in a small room with her three children. Her few possessions are crammed on a bench nearby. “I grabbed whatever I could from our house and ran with the kids,” she says. “They will grow up here.”

The warring sides have drawn something akin to battle lines in Manipur. Abandoned homes, charred vehicles, and scorched shops line the borders between communities. Both groups have set up bunkers in deserted villages. The only people here are volunteers from “village defense forces” with guns, guarding the territory from people who used to be their neighbors. The military is deployed in the buffer zone. Venturing into enemy territory is a death sentence.

That is exactly why Joshua Hangshing didn’t get in the ambulance with his son Tonsing. He is a Kuki. If he had accompanied his son to Imphal, there was no chance the two would have survived. But a hospital in a Kuki area was two hours away. With a bullet in his head, Tonsing had to be taken to the nearest possible facility. Hangshing’s wife, Meena, was a Meitei Christian. Even though she belonged to the minority among the majority Hindu Meiteis, the couple thought her presence in the ambulance would keep them safe.

As we talk about the breakdown in trust between communities, Hangshing reminisces about meeting Meena in the mid-2000s. He was working in Imphal, and Meena would pass his office to attend singing classes. “She had a lovely voice,” he says with a wistful smile. For them, it was love at first sight. It didn’t matter that they belonged to different ethnicities. “Her mother was against it initially,” he recalls. “But she came around.”

He has now moved to Kangpokpi Town, away from his village, which is too close to the border with Imphal. He doesn’t think he’ll go back. But he hopes that reconciliation between communities is possible. “If everybody who has suffered starts thinking about revenge, the cycle of violence will never stop,” he says. “The Bible has taught me to forgive.”

On July 25, the state partially lifted the blackout, allowing some fixed-line connections back online—with restrictions. However, most people in the state rely on mobile internet. Apar Gupta, a lawyer and founder of the campaign group the Internet Freedom Foundation, said the changes only benefit a “tiny” number of privileged people. “It is my firm belief the internet shutdown is to serve state interests in avoiding accountability and contouring the media ecology than any evidentiary law and order objective," Gupta tweeted. Manipur is still mostly in the dark. And while the violence has subsided as both sides stay within their territory, it hasn’t died out completely. In the border zones, shots still ring out. It’s still smoldering, and could burst back into flames at any time.

[royal-diaries-podcast]

Maharaja Duleep Singh (4 September 1838 – 22 October 1893)

A young Maharaja Duleep Singh.

Maharaja Duleep Singh (4 September 1838 – 22 October 1893),  was born in Lahore in 1838. He was the youngest son of the legendary Maharaja Ranjit Singh, the Lion of Punjab, Duleep Singh ascended to the Gaddi of Lahore in 1843. This period also saw the once impenetrable Punjab annexed by the British East India Company. 

Promptly de-throning the young Maharaja, the Company was determined to cut him off from his now erstwhile subjects to curb any chance of a rally of support to re-instate him. He was removed from Punjab by British authorities, sequestered to the Hill Station of Mussoorie, followed by his de facto exile to England. 

In 1849 at the age of 10, he was removed from the Punjab with his title and power devolved. The Koh-i-Noor Diamond, part of his inheritance, was surrendered to Queen Victoria. 

Queen Victoria wearing the Koh-i-noor as a brooch

He was subsequently kidnapped by the British Crown, and thereafter exiled to Britain at age 15 where he was befriended by Queen Victoria, who is reported to have written of the Punjabi Maharaja: "Those eyes and those teeth are too beautiful". 

Duleep Singh (1838–1893) in 1854; portrait by Franz Xaver Winterhalter

Duleep Singh became known for his extravagant lifestyle, enjoying the countryside and game-shooting in particular. Duleep Singh also rebuilt the church, cottages and school in Elveden. Despite his lifestyle in Britain, he decided to fight to reclaim his land and title in the Punjab. 

Duleep Singh photographed by Dr. Ernst Becker in 1854 on the lower terrace at Osborne House

In 1886 he returned to India where he re-converted to Sikhism. He went to live in Paris where he enlisted the help of Irish revolutionaries and the Russians to lead a revolt against the British in the Punjab but he was ultimately unsuccessful in bringing these plans to fruition. 

The Koh-i-noor diamond (which may have been referred to in Mesopotamian texts dating to 3200 bce) mounted in the centre of the cross pattée on the Queen Elizabeth the Queen Mother's Crown.

[minhosimthings]

The Author's Introduction

Hello people of the world. My name's Mona. I'm from Southern India and I'm an 03 liner and university student currently studying in Scotland. I write mainly for Enhypen and Skz. I'm bisexual and I consider my blog a safe space for the LGBTQ+ community!

I write fluff and smut and angst (but angst is like I have a 0.1 percent chance of writing it). And since I'm in college I might not be very consistent here (damn it studying). But I will try to write as much as possible! I am a marine biology major but I do have a ton of writing courses which I had been forced to do (I enjoyed them tho) and I have interned at a publishing company too, so I'm trying to put all that knowledge into my works!

My biases from Enha And Skz and Jake and Lee know! I do stan many other groups but I do not write for them.

I am a - Full time Stay, Engene, Carat, Atiny, Midzy, Once, Blink and a Fearnot! (And a potterhead too) Part time Army, Moa, Neverland, Dive and Bunny!

My interests - space, stars, the ocean, fish, whales, corals, boba, turtles,narwhals, duality, K-pop, K Dramas, Harry Potter, Fantasy, Greek mythology, Old Literature, Art, Music, Pianos, Books, Fiction and sugary stuff

Guidelines and Rules

I do not write anything concerning specific culture readers for example an Indian reader or a Mexican one, simply because I do not think I can write it that well :)

I do not write about topics like yandere, big age gaps, incest, rape kink, piss kink, and other such filth kinks so please do not request them. (I do not have anything against them, I just do not prefer writing for them)

I do not write for the youngest members of Enhypen, Jungwon and Niki as I am older than them (I'm Sunoo's age). THEY ARE MY SONS OK? So nothing for them, not even fluff, although they will be involved in any headcannons or anything.

I do have NSFW content on my blog so MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED.

Please do not send asks which promote homophobia, racism, discrimination or sexism. This is a safe place for all people regardless of colour, sexuality, caste, religion or anything.

And also If you do send angst asks, first think about whether it will absolutely shatter me and if you think it will, send it babes.

Also never hesitate to talk to me. Even if you just want to shit about your day and talk about something sensitive I'm always here alright? I am a survivor of child abuse so if you ever want to talk about your trauma, I'm all open arms and cuddles (virtual tho cause I unfortunately can't hug you in real life 🥺☹️)

Thank you for reading all that and I hope you all have a peaceful day which goes according to your plan!!!.

Bye bye 💙🐋🫐.

[bopinion]

2023 / 07

Aperçu of the Week:

"Success has two letters: Do!"

(Johann Wolfgang von Goethe)

Bad News of the Week:

The only serious competition to Silicon Valley is neither in Europe nor in the Far East, but between the Dead, the Red and the Mediterranean Sea: Israel. Unfortunately. Because it's rather frightening innovations that come out of the more than 300 development and research centers around Tel Aviv. And I don't mean the energy that the state puts into cutting-edge technology for the military, surveillance and espionage. But rather the focus that private-sector companies in the region have also chosen.

Three examples: Cellebrite openly advertises that it can crack iDevices. Much to the delight of the FBI, for example, because Apple had refused to crack iPhones for U.S. authorities or to build a backdoor into their encryption. The questionable services are open to any organization, even criminal ones, for a fee, as if it were a normal IT service.

NSO became a global player in commercial spyware. A market that has grown into an industry estimated to be worth twelve billion dollars, estimates The New Yorker. Their tool named Pegasus was found on the phones of politicians, activists, and dissidents under repressive regimes. The suppression of the Catalan independence movement and the murder of Saudi Arabian journalist Jamal Khashoggi with the help of this spyware are documented.

And just last week, investigative media revealed Team Jorge's business model: professional spreading of fake news to influence elections. They were hired for 32 campaigns, 27 of which were verifiably successful, they say. Yes, political success can be bought - at the expense of the opposition.

What these three examples have in common is a perfidious "not giving a fuck" attitude, which goals are pursued and also achieved with their help. For these are clearly directed against such trivialities as free democracy, independent media, functional rule of law or transparent power apparatuses. The main thing is that the money is right. The framework conditions for this seem to be optimal in Israel, of all places. And when I look at the position of Benjamin Netanyahu's newly enthroned right-wing government against an independent judiciary or free media, this will not change.

Good News of the Week:

In mid-February, Munich always hosts the "Munich Security Conference" (MSC), the world's most important meeting of top politicians on international security. While last year appeals to Russia not to attack Ukraine dominated - we all know what happened a few days later - this time it is about the concrete handling of the war that initiated the much-cited "turning point in time":

The unexpectedly dysfunctional NATO is strengthening internally (higher defense budgets) and externally (Sweden and Finland want to join the alliance), new bloc formations are emerging, the arms industry can no longer keep up with demand, Europe is groaning under a wave of refugees, economic sanctions by the West are turning out to be far less effective than expected, Putin is not wavering. War has become the order of the day.

Major strategic news is not to be expected. All countries have already clearly positioned themselves. From clear, even military support for Ukraine (e.g. all NATO members) to an effort of neutrality based on energy policy (e.g. India or Latin America) to support for the Putin course (e.g. Belarus, Syria or Myanmar). All countries have already taken a clear position? No - the elephant in the room is China.

The youngest major security power calls for peace, but does not name Russia as the aggressor. And just yesterday launched "Operation Mosi II," a joint large-scale naval maneuver with Russia and South Africa off the latter's Indian Ocean coast. So there was little hope that the Middle Kingdom - seen by almost all observers as the only power with de facto influence over the Kremlin - would actively do anything to defuse the conflict.

But then Wang Yi, longtime foreign minister of the People's Republic of China, entered the Munich stage - and stunned. By announcing a peace initiative to end Russia's war of aggression against Ukraine, he said, "We will put something forward. And that is the Chinese position on the political settlement of the Ukraine crisis," the Politburo member said Saturday, according to an official translation. "We will stand steadfastly on the side of peace and dialogue." For a safer world, he said, "the principles of the UN Charter are something we must uphold." Good. Very good. Now words just need to be followed by action.

Personal happy moment of the week:

In our countryside, there are plenty of typical Bavarian inns. And, as everywhere, countless Italians and Asians. Rarer are nice cafés where you can have a good breakfast. One we have - thanks to a voucher that I already got last year for my birthday - tried today. Very good coffee, a manageable but balanced menu. With regional products and in a former monastery building. It was worth it. It's always nice to start the Sunday with a delicious breakfast.

I couldn't care less...

...that Ukraine has requested cluster bombs and chemical weapons on the MSC. These are internationally outlawed because they cause massive collateral damage in violation of international law - including to the civilian population. That Russia is not caring about this may be, is even probable. Nevertheless, this quid pro quo logic is too weak for me. If they go low, you (still should) go high.

As I write this...

...I am mourning a little Lothar Wieler quitting his job. As head of the Robert Koch Institute (RKI) he was the Anthony Fauci of Germany. And yet more than just the side kick of the respective health minister. As a politically independent person, he moderated the pandemic in a serious but calm manner. He analyzed, commented, admonished and annoyed. Far away from the day-to-day political business. Against his will, he became a media star, even though he much preferred to sit in the lab and work on his figures. He did what he thought he had to do. Tormented by the thought that "even one more child must die". Big shoes to fill.

Post Scriptum

To be climate neutral, each person should only emit less than one ton of CO2 or similar greenhouse gases per year - currently the average is 11.6 tons. Far ahead of the consumption of beef or air travel to the South, individual transport is the main polluter: the Germans' favorite child, the car. But the will in this country to rely on electromobility seems to be driven more by financial interests than by actual conviction. When gasoline was expensive and electric cars were tax-subsidized in 2022, there was a boom. That plummeted dramatically over the turn of the year, with 83 percent fewer fully electric cars and 87 percent fewer plug-in hybrids registered in January 2023 compared to the previous month. Sigh...

[merlinsbudgiesmugglers]

For the game, letters B and R

Oooh these are good ones! Thanks for the ask <3

B: Any of your stories inspired by personal experience? None of the storylines, but my characterisation of Lily Luna definitely gets inspiration from being the youngest of three. I've never stolen a Marauder's Map from my brother, but I have stolen chocolate from him and left him a cheeky note about hiding things better.

R: Are there any writers (fanfic or otherwise) you consider an influence? Oh my gosh, so many. I'm not going to name any individual fanfic writers because I don't want to forget anyone, but there are so many excellent writers out there. I definitely have to say that joining The Three Broomsticks discord server was the best thing for my writing. It's such a great community of writers and readers who really encourage each other. I don't think I would have started writing again if I hadn't joined.

In terms of published authors, I've become obsessed with India Holton's series, starting with The Wisteria Society of Lady Scoundrels. Her writing style is so unique and fun as is the premise of the series. I honestly laugh out loud when I'm reading her books.

I've also devoured every Meg Cabot book that she's published. The Mediator Series was and still is an obsession. Meg Cabot definitely taught me the importance of a interesting female characters who can be interested in their looks and still kick ass, or who are smart, or worried about their weight but that doesn't stop them from being amazing (plus she's so good are writing sexy, brooding leading men who are secret sweethearts).

And I have to mention Melina Marchetta, like most Aussie's I grew up reading Looking for Alibrandi and Saving Francesca, which both tell stories of characters that feel like they could be your best friend or your neighbour in such a grounded and wonderful way. And I'm currently rereading her Lumatere series which is just fantastic, despite being set in a fantasy world with curses and prophecies, it deals with the people and the struggles they face so well.

Fanfic Ask Game

[globalliterarycircleandpublisher]

WHO IS FIRDOUS ALAM ?

ABOUT FIRDOUS ALAM:

One of the versatile & creative writers , Clochard (also known as Firdous Alam) was born in 1998 , 11th may in the northeastern region of india. Firdous or Clochard is a famous Indo-American novelist, poet and philosopher. He is well known for his unique mixture of different literary genres and devices .

When he was a student, he won the District level story writing competition, State level essay writing competition (TWICE) and scored 100% in National level quizzes on English Literature organised by a Government College of Chattisgarh. In 2022, he secured a rank among top-100 poets organized by SUPER7 National poetry competition.

      As one of the youngest writers/novelists of the 21st century, he started his writing career early at the age of 19 and wrote almost six ebooks which are available in Kindle US, UK, Germany, Italy, France, Japan, India, Mexico and in other Amazon market places. In 2022, he won YS INTERNATIONAL AWARD as a novelist for his adult fiction book, "Aura Of August: In Red Light Street". In the year 2023, he won STATE GEM AWARD in Bangalore in the best novelist of the year category. The ELYSIANPEN and WEBSTORYINDIA placed Clochard among TOP 30 outstanding personalities of the year 2023. In the same year, THE EXPLORING MINDS placed him in the 20th place among the Changemakers of India. In 2024, he won GEOFFREY CHAUCER AWARD for his valuable contribution towards English literature and again, ELYSIANPEN placed him among "TOP 19 MOST UNIQUE WRITERS OF 2023". In Asia's largest Book Fair or World's 3rd largest Book Fair (Kolkata Book Fair), his novel "Aura Of August' got the highest sales of all time which is a big achievement for a novelist like Clochard. In the year 2024, he won the B.R AMBEDKAR AWARD(SAMMAN) for writing the book 'FOUR WAYS TO REVERSE RAPE & SEXUAL VIOLENCE '. In fact, he is the first person who provided realistic methods to stop rape, sexual violence and other crimes using new Constitutional laws and these methods are really useful for the Presidents as well as people of all countries.

Amazon Author Page Link -

[irunevenus]

Sikhism: The Religion of Unity and Courage – A Journey of Spirituality and Justice

Sikhism, one of the world’s youngest religions, originated in the 15th century in Punjab, a region that is now divided between India and Pakistan. Founded by Guru Nanak, Sikhism rejects the caste system, idolatry, and ritualism, instead promoting equality, social justice, and direct devotion to one God. With approximately 25 million followers, it is the fifth largest religion in the world. This article explores the origins of Sikhism, its core doctrines and practices, and how it continues to inspire its followers around the world.

The Origins of Sikhism: The Teachings of Guru Nanak Sikhism was founded by Guru Nanak (1469-1539), who was born at a time of great social and religious turmoil in the Indian subcontinent, where Hinduism and Islam coexisted, often in conflict. Guru Nanak was a spiritual thinker deeply influenced by these traditions, but he believed in a new spiritual approach that transcended religious divisions.

At the age of 30, after a mystical experience while bathing in the Kali Bein River, Nanak emerged with a clear message: “There is no Hindu, there is no Muslim,” emphasizing the unity of all human beings and devotion to one God. He spent the rest of his life traveling across the Indian subcontinent, preaching a message of love, equality, and selfless service, attracting followers who would become the first Sikhs (disciples).

The Ten Gurus and the Establishment of Sikhism Following Guru Nanak, Sikhism was guided by a succession of nine Gurus, who consolidated and expanded the teachings of the faith. Each Guru played a crucial role in the spiritual, social and military development of the Sikh community:

Guru Angad (1504-1552): Created the Gurmukhi script, used to record sacred teachings. Guru Amar Das (1479-1574): Instituted the practice of "Langar", the community kitchen that provided free meals to all, regardless of their religion or social status. Guru Ram Das (1534-1581): Founded the holy city of Amritsar, which became the spiritual center of the Sikhs. Guru Arjan (1563-1606): Compiled the Adi Granth, the sacred text of Sikhism, and oversaw the construction of the Golden Temple in Amritsar. Guru Hargobind (1595-1644): Introduced the concept of Miri and Piri, representing temporal and spiritual authority, and militarized the Sikh community to defend itself from persecution. Guru Har Rai (1630-1661) and Guru Har Krishan (1656-1664): Continued the mission of peace and service, even in times of increasing conflict. Guru Tegh Bahadur (1621-1675): Defended religious freedom against Mughal oppression, sacrificing his life to protect the right of all to practice their faith. Guru Gobind Singh (1666-1708): Founded the Khalsa, a brotherhood of baptized Sikh warriors who advocated justice and equality. He declared that after him, the Guru Granth Sahib, the holy book, would be the eternal spiritual guide of the Sikhs. Fundamental Doctrines and Practices of Sikhism Sikhism is based on the belief in one God, known as Waheguru, who is formless, omniscient, and accessible to all. The core teachings of Sikhism can be summarized in three tenets:

Naam Japna (Meditation on the Name of God): Sikhs are encouraged to meditate and constantly remember God in their daily actions.

Kirat Karni (Honest Work): Earn an honest living and contribute to the well-being of society.

Vand Chakna (Sharing with Others): Practice charity and share one’s resources with those in need.

In addition to these tenets, Sikhs follow the Five Ks, symbols of identity and spiritual commitment:

Kesh (Uncut Hair): Represents acceptance of one’s natural God-given form.

Kara (Steel Bracelet): Symbolizes eternity and commitment to good deeds.

Kanga (Wooden Comb): Denotes cleanliness and order.

Kachera (Cotton shorts): A symbol of modesty and self-control. Kirpan (Small sword): Represents the fight for justice and the defense of the oppressed. The Khalsa and the Warrior Spirit of Sikhism The founding of the Khalsa by Guru Gobind Singh in 1699 was a turning point for Sikhism. Guru Gobind Singh instituted an initiation ritual in which followers pledged to uphold justice, protect the weak, and live a life of purity and spiritual discipline. Members of the Khalsa adopted the name "Singh" (lion) for men and "Kaur" (princess) for women, reflecting the equality and dignity that the faith advocates.

The Khalsa played a key role in resisting Mughal oppression and later, the Afghan invasions, establishing the Sikhs as a powerful military force in northern India. This spirit of fighting for justice remains alive in modern Sikhs, who continue to uphold the ideals of equality, freedom and courage.

The Guru Granth Sahib: The Living Scripture The Guru Granth Sahib, the Sikh holy book, is more than a collection of scriptures; it is considered the eternal guru of the Sikhs. Originally compiled by Guru Arjan, the text contains hymns and poetry from various Gurus, as well as Hindu and Muslim saints, reflecting the inclusive and universalist nature of Sikhism.

The Guru Granth Sahib is recited, sung and revered in gurdwaras (Sikh temples) around the world, where the Langar, the communal soup kitchen that offers free meals to all, symbolizing equality and selfless service, is also practiced.

Sikhism Today: A Legacy of Faith and Service Sikhism continues to be a powerful force in the lives of millions of people, particularly in the Punjab region, but also in significant communities in North America, Europe and elsewhere. Sikhs are known for their spirit of community service, compassion and advocacy for human rights. In modern times, Sikhs continue to face challenges, including discrimination and misunderstandings about their faith and identity. However, Sikhs’ commitment to social justice, equality and service remains unwavering, reflecting the timeless teachings of their Gurus. Sikhism offers the world a model of practical spirituality and social activism, advocating a way of life that unites spiritual devotion with the moral responsibility to fight injustice. Sikhism’s message of unity, courage and compassion continues to resonate, offering a beacon of hope in an often divided world. Sikhism, with its roots in a period of great religious upheaval, has transcended time as a vibrant faith that preaches equality, advocacy for justice and devotion to one God. As they face the challenges of the modern world, Sikhs remain true to the values ​​of their Gurus, inspiring millions with their devotion, courage and commitment to the common good.

[scotianostra]

Captain Pugwash creator John Ryan was born on March 4th 1921 in Edinburgh.

Captain Pugwash creator John Ryan was born on March 4th 1921 in Edinburgh.

Born as John Gerald Christopher Ryan in Rintoul Place, he was the youngest of four sons of the diplomat Sir Andrew Ryan KBE CMG, who served as consul-general to Morocco and was later British minister at Jeddah and in Albania. His uncle was the Archbishop of Trinidad. and Tobago Ryan spent his early years in Turkey and Morocco before returning to Britain, where he was educated at Ampleforth College Boarding school. His first cartoon was in the school magazine when he was just 9.

During the Second World War he served in the Lincolnshire Regiment in Burma and India, achieving the rank of captain. After being demobbed he studied art at the Regent Street Polytechnic, London.

He then worked as assistant art master (and later art master) at Harrow School, during this period Ryan began contributing strips to children’s comics such as the Eagle, Girl and Swift.

His best-known creation, Captain Horatio Pugwash – skipper of the Black Pig and “the bravest, most handsome pirate of the Seven Seas” – first appeared in the launch issue of the Eagle on 14 April 1950. Set in the 18th century, the strip’s full title was “Captain Pugwash, the Story of a Bad Buccaneer and of the Many Sticky Ends which Nearly Befell Him”. The portly, cowardly and conceited Pugwash, with his moustache and goatee beard and skull-and-crossbones hat, would frequently utter cries such as “Dolloping doubloons!”, “Kipper me capstans!” and “Coddling catfish!” The red-and-black striped shirt which he wore under his blue frockcoat was inspired by Ampleforth College’s football team’s colours. His arch-enemy and main rival in the quest for treasure was Cut-Throat Jake, captain of the Flying Dustman.

I think I should point out, and maybe spoil some peoples memories about Captain Pugwash, there was no Master Bates, Seaman Staines or Roger the Cabin Boy, they are urban myths, it was Tom the Cabin Boy and Pirate Willy, entirely innocent names, the other names are thought to have originated back in the 1970’s in student rag mags, the smutty names, according to Ryan’s father had an upsetting affect on her dad, who she describes as “a very charming and innocent man” The family had to sue some publications after her father’s death when some papers printed the fake names. The family gave money they were awarded to lifeboat charities.

Another series Ryan created, and one I certainly remember when growing u, was Mary, Mungo and Midge. John Ryan also drew topical cartoons for the Catholic Herald for more than 40 years and was the author and illustrator of more than 50 books.

He passed away in July 2009.

[newstfionline]

Saturday, August 3, 2024

After Biden’s Withdrawal, Other Aged Leaders Get Some Serious Side-Eye (NYT) When President Biden abandoned his re-election campaign this month, citing the need to “pass the torch to a new generation,” some of the most envious accolades he received came from 6,000 miles away. In central Africa, in coastal Cameroon, many are longing for their president, Paul Biya—at 91 the world’s oldest leader—to take a leaf out of President Biden’s book. But most think he never will. “He’ll do everything to remain in power,” said Lukong Usheno Kiven, a human rights advocate based in Yaoundé, the capital of Cameroon, where Mr. Biya has been in power for 42 years. Mr. Biya is just one of dozens of notably aged leaders who are also far older than the populations they serve. Presidents Xi Jinping of China and Vladimir V. Putin of Russia are both 71. India’s prime minister, Narendra Modi, is 73. Israel’s leader, Benjamin Netanyahu, is 74, while Mahmoud Abbas, the president of the Palestinian Authority, is 88. But it is in Africa—the world’s youngest continent—where the gerontocracies are most stark. Eleven of the world’s 20 oldest leaders are African, according to research done by the Pew Research Center.

Harris won enough votes to be the Democratic nominee (NYT) The Democratic National Committee announced today that Vice President Kamala Harris had secured enough delegates to clinch the Democratic Party’s nomination for president. She will be the first Black woman and person of South Asian heritage to earn the top spot on a major party’s ticket. Harris’s nomination will become official after the party’s virtual roll call vote ends on Monday, capping off a month of chaos for Democrats. Just two weeks ago, they were still debating which candidate would have the best chance of defeating Donald Trump in November.

Fires Burning at ‘Full Tilt’ Across the Western U.S. Stretch Resources (NYT) It took only a week for the Park fire north of Sacramento to grow into the fifth-largest in California history, signaling the potential for a destructive wildfire season across much of the Western United States. Almost 50 other large or notable fires were burning throughout the region on Wednesday, according to a New York Times tracker. The sheer number of fires currently burning in Western states—both big and small—has threatened to overwhelm firefighting resources at a rate that worries experts so early in the season. “Normally we’re ramping up in July to get to that peak in August, early September,” said Alex Robertson, director of fire and aviation management for the U.S. Forest Service. But this year, he said, “we’re going into August already at our full tilt.”

Extortion and gang violence are hitting even big corporations and business leaders in Mexico (AP) Even Mexico’s largest corporations are now being hit by demands from drug cartels, and gangs are increasingly trying to control the sale, distribution and pricing of certain goods. Well-known, high-ranking business leaders aren’t even safe. On Monday, the head of the business chambers’ federation in Tamaulipas state, across the border from Texas, gave television interviews complaining about drug cartel extortion in the state. Hours later on Tuesday, Julio Almanza was shot to death outside his offices in the city of Matamoros, across from Brownsville, Texas. “We are hostages to extortion demands, we are hostages of criminal groups,” Almanza said in one of his last interviews. “Charging extortion payments has practically become the national sport in Tamaulipas.”

Maduro and Western Pressure (Clarin/Argentina) Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro's decision to declare himself the winner of the July 28 presidential election with 51.2% of the vote, compared to 44.2% for the opposition, has not been recognized by the United States, European Union, some allies in Asia and several Latin American countries. On Thursday, U.S. Secretary of State Antony Blinken went so far as to explicitly declare that opposition candidate Edmundo González was the winner of the election, saying there was "overwhelming evidence" that Maduro had been defeated. Surely, as happened with the interim government of Juan Guaidó that emerged in 2019 and was recognized by these same countries, the West will intensify its economic sanctions on Venezuela. But it's worth remembering that such sanctions have failed in Cuba for 65 years, just as they have failed in recent years in Iran and Russia. These countries, along with China, have recognized Maduro's reelection claim, which will give Venezuela some ability to resist any sanctions.

Argentina will use AI to ‘predict future crimes’ (Guardian) Under the leadership of far-right president Javier Milei, Argentina has announced plans to use AI to “predict future crimes.” This week, Milei established the Artificial Intelligence Applied to Security Unit, which will use “machine-learning algorithms to analyse historical crime data to predict future crimes,” utilize facial recognition software to track “wanted persons,” and even use AI to analyze real-time security footage in order to catch crimes as they occur. If you know anything about the current state of AI, or have read any articles on the shortcomings of facial recognition software, you’re probably wondering how this initiative could ever end well. Well, so are many human rights groups. Even if the AI detection programs prove less than effective, said a representative for Amnesty International, the use of widespread surveillance programs will force people to “self-censor or refrain from sharing their ideas or criticisms if they suspect that everything they comment on, post, or publish is being monitored by security forces.” Milei has already shown Argentinians that he’s willing to crack down violently on protests, authorizing police to shoot anti-government demonstrators with rubber bullets at close range and warning that parents who bring their children to political rallies will be officially sanctioned by the state.

After much grumbling, Parisians have come to embrace the Olympics (CSM) In the lead-up to the Olympic Games this summer, the French—particularly Parisians—had a multitude of concerns: Would the River Seine be clean enough to swim in? How much would security restrictions take over daily life? And the universal question, would everything be done in time? But after a successfully executed opening ceremony, which took viewers on a virtual journey around Paris’s most iconic monuments, the mood in the city is starting to change. Yes, the sporting venues have been finished. The Seine was clean long enough to host triathletes this week. Olympic organizers said on Thursday that 9.7 million tickets have been sold—an Olympic record. And despite some latent grumbling, the French do indeed seem to be embracing the Olympic spirit. “There is something quintessentially French about cultivating the negative and focusing on what will not go right,” says Éric Monnin, the director of the Center for Olympic Studies and Research and vice president of Olympism at the University of Franche-Comté in Besançon, France. “But now that the Games have started, all I’m hearing from people is how they want to enjoy this moment of togetherness.”

Children of freed sleeper agents learned they were Russians on the flight, Kremlin says (Reuters) A family of Russian sleeper agents flown to Moscow in the biggest East-West prisoner swap since the Cold War were so deep under cover that their children found out they were Russians only after the flight took off, the Kremlin said on Friday. "Before that, they didn't know that they were Russian and that they had anything to do with our country," Kremlin spokesman Dmitry Peskov told reporters. "And you probably saw that when the children came down the plane's steps that they don't speak Russian and that Putin greeted them in Spanish” (the couple had been pretending to be Argentinians).

After Olympics, Turkey’s Erdogan seeks unity with Pope Francis against acts that mock sacred values (AP) Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan spoke with Pope Francis on Thursday about the “immoral display” at the opening ceremony of the Paris Olympics and called for a unified stance against acts that ridicule sacred values, according to a statement from Erdogan’s office. The Turkish leader told the pontiff in a telephone call that “human dignity was being trampled on, religious and moral values were being mocked, offending Muslims as much as the Christian world,” the statement said. In an unprecedented display, drag queens took center stage at the ceremony last week. The ceremony attracted criticism over a tableau reminiscent of Leonardo da Vinci’s “The Last Supper.” The scene featured drag queens and other performers in a configuration reminiscent of Jesus Christ and his apostles.

Problems in Pakistan (NYT) In almost every corner of Pakistan, anger at the ruling elite is nearing a boiling point. Thousands have protested soaring electricity bills just outside the capital, Islamabad. In a major port city in the southwest, dozens have clashed with security officers over what they described as forced disappearances of activists. In the northwest, protesters have admonished the country’s generals for a recent surge in terrorist attacks. The demonstrations over the past few weeks reflect frustration with Pakistan’s shaky, five-month-old government and with its military, the country’s ultimate authority. The unrest threatens to plunge Pakistan back into the depths of political turmoil that has flared in recent years and that many had hoped would subside after the February general election.

They ran for their lives as boulders and water banged at their door (AP) When Deva Das was jolted awake by the roar of gushing water and boulders banging at the door, he grabbed his parents and his kids and began running for higher ground. The family waded through slush and muck, climbed a hill, and stayed there in the pouring rain for nearly four hours. When day broke Tuesday, rescuers found the family and brought them down. When the 40-year-old agricultural laborer got back to the site of his village in southern India’s Kerala state, there was nearly nothing left. Houses were gone, buried under mud or wiped away. Trees were uprooted, and roads were swept away. Families were frantically searching for their loved ones. At least 201 people have been killed in Kerala since Tuesday after multiple landslides in the hills of Wayanad district sent torrents of mud, floodwater and giant rolling boulders to downhill villages, burying people or sweeping them away several miles downstream. The disaster also left behind a trail of destruction in its wake by flattening hundreds of houses and destroying roads and bridges.

Rights group says 13 killed during protests over Nigeria’s economic crisis. Hundreds arrested (AP) At least 13 protesters were killed during mass protests in Nigeria against the country’s economic crisis that turned violent in several states, a rights group said Friday. Authorities confirmed four people killed by a bomb and the arrests of hundreds in the protests that triggered curfews in several states. The protests were mainly over food shortages and alleged bad governance in the country. Nigeria’s public officials, frequently accused of corruption, are among the best paid in Africa, a stark contrast in a country that has some of the world’s poorest and hungriest people, despite being one of the continent’s top oil producers.

These Italians are walking off their wine (NYT) On Thursdays, Luciano Fregonese, the mayor of an Italian town famous for its Prosecco, goes on a stroll. He began the walks this summer to counter the calories he consumed at social gatherings. After all, he said, his job includes countless wine-and-snack obligations. “It’s not easy to say no,” he said. But word of the health walks quickly spread, and his evening strolls have become a sensation, with hundreds of walkers joining him. As motivation for others, he’s planning to add pizza. Have a vigorous evening.