The Bipolarity in Socio-Economics in Education System

– Suvodeep Bhowmik

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After long years of independence we still stand under the umbrella of degenerating symbiosis and they are called ‘children’. Since “the Holy Birth”, men and women have strived to balance the number of upcoming species that we call our next generation. (And to breed on these natural processes, we value our education system in a way similar to the fresh seeds who understand only what they are taught).

There is a popular phrase that our earlier preparations have been giving way through. So they divided our first twenty springs in scientific stages. And it could be believed to be true that no other way than multilayered diversifications is the duel way of communication between two vertical faces. Here, one face stands for a force that monetarily dictates the larger section of the employed world. And the other one takes in the leftover section of our existence. These people and their descendants are nomenclated  as the downtrodden, toiling appendices of life(socio) cycle.

The needs of a regular homogenization in types and circumferences of government and private barriers are strongly felt now-a-days. Through the astrayed effect of the largest democracy after independence “schooling and university” proforma of education narrative was destined, as can be seen now. And people are reaching out to higher establishments periodically in geometric programming with a radical value of power square as “exam result fee” structure that we have nurtured inside our “free economic” catastrophe. So, to stand together and read worthy ways without any pro-paper brand or multiplex celebration in education culture, what we need is freedom of thought and action in structuring, fund and administrating dormitories of education system.

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The Invisible World, the Unknown Subject…

-Alipta Nayak Dhall

“The oldest and greatest emotion in mankind is fear and the oldest and greatest fear is the fear of the unknown.”

-H.P. Lovecraft

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Can you imagine what it’s like to study a subject where there are no constant laws or theories?… Which is not considered a subject by many?… Which is ridiculed at every step?… I do…and this subject is PARAPSYCHOLOGY.

For those who read this article further I would ask them to keep an open mind. Ridicule and contempt towards this subject will get you nowhere…because they are always around you…they have always been and they always will be.

Parapsychology or Paranormal Studies is the study of everything beyond the conventional normal. Clairvoyance, divination, other worldly creatures, ghosts, hauntings and so on. It’s a subject which acknowledges the existence of the other world. Something which people even presented with hard core evidence fail to do.

In  this subject I majorly  research in the context of ‘ghosts’ and ‘hauntings’. I wish to spread the truth about these misjudged beings. This is my way of helping. It’s my way of saying “You’re not invisible, neither is your pain…I can see you, I can feel it and I care” to the spirits.

 The first and foremost law not theory which proves the existence  of ‘ghosts’ is the Law of Conservation of Energy which states “Energy can neither be created nor destroyed, it can just be converted”. We are all different from each other not only physically but also spiritually. Our body is just a vessel but our soul is our life force. So what happens to our energy after we die? Where does this go? The answer – ghosts. But then you would ask me that there are so many people dead from so many millennia ago and even now…so why don’t all of then turn into ghosts and why isn’t everyplace haunted?

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My answer to this is that when our soul leaves our body it further journeys from the physical plane to the spiritual plane. But those who are being held back by their unfinished business, their selfish oath, by their need of justice and the horror of the injustice, pain, anguish they faced; roam about in this world which is not theirs  attached to their places of importance for millennia drowned in desperation, frustration, helplessness and unimaginable agony. But not all. Some stay back peacefully to guard the things they care about or to just help others. Some never cross this physical plane simply because they don’t know if they are dead or just don’t accept the truth. Think about it…when you were just an infant or a 5 year old kid did you know what death was? So how would those dead children know that they’re not human? They just wanna be seen or heard. They just wanna play.

All the other spirits too want the same (well most of them). They touch you, pull your hair , tug at you, transfer their emotions, speak, scream and move objects to get your attention. They want you to know they’re not gone. That’s the worst part…they’re stuck here in their own past like a prisoner of those moments which destroyed them.

That’s what haunting is. The spirit…those trapped moments in those places…happening again and again…in a loop. These examples are true locations and everything stated is true .

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At the abandoned Remington Arms Factory, a camera in real time caught the sound of a gunshot  being fired and a scream following it. What’s surprising is that years ago a real incident of that sort had actually occurred…and only the camera on one floor caught it but not the other one running at the same time.

At the mental institutions like ‘Rolling Hills Asylum’ and ‘Trans Allegheny Lunatic Asylum’ you can  still hear the screams of the patients. At the ‘Toele Hospital’ you can still see the girl in front of the surgery table asking for the reason for her death, reaching out to you. This is an actual sketch of the girl by a person who saw her face to face, so did 2 cameras but both the cameras froze at the same time .

At ‘Bobby Mackeys’ those two criminals who swore to haunt it forever still linger to torture the living and keep their evil oath.

It’s entirely possible that when one interacts with a spirit giving them energy to manifest or make contact you probably helped them cross over. So in a way even when you listen to them or acknowledge their presence, you’re helping them. Sometimes all they want is some help.

Therefore all I am asking is a little help and respect on your side. Please don’t ignore their existence or mock their strength.

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Finally I would like to dedicate this article to the “Ghost Adventures Crew” (GAC) who made me firmly believe and stand by what I had already believed.

I now quote GAC member Zak-

“Dedication

To all the spirits I have communicated with,

They have changed my life and my look on the afterlife”

Time To Return The Favor Back

-Diya Chakraborty

There are many things that happen in our day to day lives. A considerable variety of predicaments encounter us daily, and we tend to differentiate them automatically, into significant and otherwise. While we plunge into a detailed analyzing of the “significant” event, more often than not, we are inclined to overlook the non-highlighted yet, consequential, as well as, pressing aspect of the matter.

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Physical humiliation towards women is old news. Almost every day we hear females, ranging from hardly two months to, as old as, in their nineties, getting physically abused, literally monstrously. We hear, see, and read about this kind of “human behaviour” daily. Then we show our sympathy towards the victim, our disgust towards the offender, speak at length about our country’s moral & cultural degradation, as a morning tea chat, & then carry on with our lives unaffected. As simple as that.

While expressing our sorrow for the matter, we mostly think about the victim’s loss of honour, the subsequent social reaction towards her, her stained future, etc. other such deep intellectual thoughts. Surely the act has been disgraceful, but before reaching to topics like honour and prestige, why not come down to simpler aspects. A HUMAN BEING has been manhandled. But she could do nothing to defend herself for the simple fact that she has been constructed vulnerable. And with that very vulnerable self, she had to bear violence & brutality of such soaring levels, to which, even her male counterpart would have winced at, quite a bit. Imagine that amount of unbelievable excruciating pain, those shattering blows hitting incessantly, that helpless, dying, penetrating cries of that fragile body, desperate yet unheard. No, we can only “try” to imagine, because it’s too beastly and dirty to do otherwise.

She is only a HUMAN! That too the weaker species, and then she has to go through such heart-breaking, devastating violence upon her.  The unbearable pain that those millions and millions of women go through (and are, ironically, going through even as I am writing this) is often overshadowed by highbrow talks of right and wrong, honour and pride. I mean, she is an injured human being, literally speaking, get her an aid at least, to soothe her intensive pain, before getting into scholarly discussions!

It’s quite a matter of joke that the world likes to show its “strength” and “power” on those who cannot fight it. “Coward”, just got a whole new meaning.

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But then, enough is enough. And enough, it already is. Enough of motivating articles, enough of protests, enough of candle marches, enough of lessons, enough of pleading, enough of crying and lastly, enough of tolerating. If a woman can procreate a brute, so can she destroy one, it just seems like women have been tolerating not only men’s, but also the society’s inhumane torture since forever. From asking hurtful and insulting questions, while filing a complaint at the police station and while the courtroom interrogation, to questioning the woman’s moral character based on her lifestyle and clothing, our society delightfully do their bit in making a woman’s life, who is already going through hell, all the more insufferable. Do you know, that three-fourth of the complaints don’t even make it to the police station, two-fourth pass out before getting a trial date at the court, and, those who still somehow make it, either get dismissed due to lack of evidence or spend their entire lives, travelling and re-travelling to the court, to be present for the trials, each time being forced to remember all those dirty, painful, suffocating details of the murder. Yes, murder it is. Murder of the soul, murder of emotions, murder of feelings, murder of dreams. Murder of a Being.

It is hence, time, women pick up arms, and treat those animals, who had made the mistake of insulting her, with equal or more brutality, than they did. After all they are men, stronger than us, weak creatures. Shouldn’t they deserve a little bit extra?? And if not anyone else, history bears witness to the fact that, whenever a woman has taken up arms, there has been storms of destruction, carrying away all the impurities along with it. The celebrated Hindu Goddess “Ma Durga” is a prominent example. What a man fails to conquer is conquered by a woman. It has happened before, and it will happen again. And observing the favourable conditions of our society, it is likely to happen soon. And then, the cruelty will be SUCH that even sadists will look like Winnie the Pooh.

And, therefore, I say there has been enough of ‘enough’s. If nobody is alive enough to fight for us, we will fight for ourselves. Even if our paths are all wrong, yet we will tread those very paths to achieve our goal, as the question of Right and Wrong, is long past. Even the ever loved and revered Rabindranath Tagore had said exactly the same thing in his song, “Ekla cholo re”, that, when no one answers to your call, you must walk alone. And alone the women of 21st century will soon walk whatever and however the road might be. All is fair in love and war, remember?

Nothing Much

Tuhina Barua

I let my eyes travel downwards to ensure for twenty second time if everything was perfect. The blue gypsy whiz past. By my watch, it was sharp nine in the morning.

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I recall every other details of that day. It was 15th July, the year 2013. I was then at the Uttarlai Air Base waiting to meet Tejas. He was a fighter pilot at the Indian Air Force and was then posted at the Uttarlai Air Base in Rajasthan.  We met a couple of years ago at one of the CCD outlets in Pune. He was then a 6th term cadet at the NDA. It was one of the odd weekends and I entered the cafe with Shivani. The coffee shop teemed with NDA cadets with their typical-yet-so-smart hair cut and the blazers with the NDA ensign embossed on it. I walked up to him for a change to my thousand rupee note. He looked up from his cold coffee and love bloomed. He joined this Air Base after he was over with his two year course at the Air Force Academy, Hyderabad.

“Hey Sunidhi!” A summon from somewhere close by. I looked over my shoulder. It was Pravin’s. He was approaching me with a slight jog.

“So…where’s Tejas?” I asked as I extended my hand for a shake. My alter-ego chided me for having been so rude. But how could somebody stick on to formal ‘hi-hello’s when she’s there to meet her beau??

“Oh, him? Well he has gone off for a routine sortie.” Pravin replied casually. His casual reply and my heart sank into a pool of regret, guilt, impatience and what not! I cursed myself a zillion times for consuming so much time to dress up and come to the Air Base. I cursed my typical feminine coy nature for all that had happened. ‘Regret’ was writ large on my face and my ever enthusiastic eyes projected impatience. Pravin, on noticing my plightful state tried to cheer me up. “Hey! Don’t worry girl! He has gone off for a sortie and will circumnavigate the aerodrome. He’ll be back soon, maybe within…” Pravin glanced at his Ulysses Nardin. “…say around fifteen to twenty minutes.”  For Pravin it was just the matter of a few minutes, but those ‘few minutes’ meant a lot to me. Our conversation was interrupted by a loud unearthly sound that was fast approaching. Both of us looked up. A jet was approaching and even before I could batter an eyelid, it flew overhead. There was thunder in the sky. The jet seemed to rip open the flesh of the sky.

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“Whoa!” Pravin exclaimed with a smirk. “There’s he! Flight Lieutenant Tejas Tanwar!!” A coy yet genuine smile played on my lips. There was palpitation. It took me seconds to realize that Pravin was grinning at my innocence which was, an epitomized version of stupidity iced with crazy love.

“Which jet is he flying?”  I interrupted the eerie environ. “It’s the MiG-21 Bison fighter.” Pravin replied with an air of superiority.

“Hey, look up!! Your man is into something different!” Pravin said, his index pointing the clear sky. I looked at the direction he had been pointing. The aircraft got higher and higher. It scaled the altitude and then, to my horror, got into freefall whirling mid-air. “Oh my God! Is he…is he…” I was petrified. What was going on? Did the radar fail to respond? Did he loose contact with the ATC? What would happen next? Numerous questions clouded my mind within a split second.

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“Watch out!!” Pravin laughed hysterically as the aircraft regained its normal course. Once again severing the sky and making a noise that was sure to awake the dead. I closed my eyes to overcome the shock or surprise or whatsoever it was!! I opened and continued, “Has he gone crazy?! What the hell is he doing mid-air? Is he nuts?” This time a look of vexation replaced the gentle-girl look on my face and my voice got a bit louder. Pravin, however pooh-poohed my frown and continued, “Ah!  Never mind. That was his favourite Vertical Charlie. Fingers crossed. Just hope that the squadron leader hasn’t seen him doing this.”

“Why? What’ll happen?” I asked bringing about numerous wrinkles on my tiny nose.  Pravin laughed a care-less one. “The Squadron Leader will have him for dinner tonight. Vertical Charlie during routine sorties? Uh-huh!” ‘Then I’ll chop your Squadron Leader into soya nuggets.’ I said to myself, my eyes narrowed.

“Anyway…he’s flying really well!” I said as patriotism and my love for Tejas rolled my heart.

“He isn’t just flying. He’s hovering… That’s the divine stuff, lady.” I nodded to Pravin’s words. Patriotism was, by then, taking on a new meaning. “Hey! Let’s go.” The ever gracious Pravin told out of the blues. “Go? Where to go?” Baffled, I raised an eye-brow.

“The flying area!” Would you not like to witness your man land?” Pravin curved a smile. I smiled as well and nodded back in affirmation.  After much nagging and a dozen of security checks and frisking, we were FINALLY allowed into the flying area for the gala moment. A few yards away from where we anxiously awaited Tejas’ return, there was another jet. The ground duty staffs were working on it. Aware of my alien presence, they looked up from their work. Famished faces, dull eyes, pot bellies were something I took a special note of. “They must go off to NDA and learn something from the brats o’er there.” A hyperbolic yet solicitous comment on my behalf, which was answered by Pravin’s short laugh and “Hey! He’s approaching!”

I shifted my gaze from them to the aircraft that was finally closing in. It seemed to be quite a few kilometres away. Gradually from a tiny speck, it was growing into size. I basked under glory. There he was! My knight in his shining armour. What would he do after he got down from his jet? Did he get to see me from the cockpit? Should I run into his arms? Or should I await his arrival? What if he locks me in his arms and get into kissing? I blushed and felt the warmth of my cheeks. My cheeks were freakin’ hot!!

The aircraft was a few feet above the ground. It had a thick black smoke trailing behind.

“Tejas…” Pravin drew his brows closer and moved ahead of a step. A look of uncertainty on his happy-go-lucky face. Oblivious to his weird behaviour, I just could not stop smiling. I eagerly waited to whisper the words ‘I love you Tejas’ in my Prince Charming’s ears……

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“TEJAS!!!!!” Pravin yelled at the top of his voice which was followed by a loud, a very loud bang. I was deafened and almost lost my balance. Pravin just held me for a second or two and then furiously ran forward. It seemed somebody had pushed me into a well of bleakness and dark. For the rest of the India, it was half-past nine. But for me the day had come to an end. With a zillion words left untold, a zillion feelings left unshared, a zillion sensations of love left in my heart to be expressed; the jet crashed allowing my love to slumber in peace. That’s it. Nothing much.

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…… “Phase out hone se pehle, agar MIG 21 nai chalayi, toh kya fayda yaar pilot banke (If I can’t fly a MiG-21 before it’s phased out, what’s the point of becoming a pilot),” Flt Shikhar had once told a classmate from school…Flt Shikhar Kulshrestha died at around 9:30 am on the morning of 15th of July, the year 2013 when his 40 year-old MiG-21 Bison crashed near the Uttarlai Air Base in Rajasthan’s Barmer district.

The Sunidhi-Tejas love story mentioned in my debut is just a WORK OF FICTION. Flt Shikhar’s death was a pedestal to my story. Maybe be one such love story did exist and was suppressed by Destiny amidst a cloud of smoke and the siren of the rescue squad’s fire engine…  One never knows.

Flight Lieutenant Shikhar, whom his batch-mates recall as ‘a fair, lanky, soft-spoken boy in a class full of ruffians’, had had his dream of flying the MiG-21 fulfilled. However… the dream’s fulfilment came along with a penalty. With 482 MiG aircraft accidents that took place between the years 1971-1972 and April 2012, and with over 171 pilots dead, the MiG-21 was FINALLY phased out in the year 2013. But a lot had happened by then……

REST IN PEACE, MY BROTHERS-IN-ARM.

Red And White

Progyaa Dutta

“You must provide shelter to strangers…”

That is one of the major “duties” once you have the red-and-white beaded necklace around your neck.

I have always wondered the metaphorical aspect of the colours ‘red’ and ‘white’ juxtaposed together…well, I think I do have an explanation  now.

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RED stands not for the usual ‘love’, but rather, for ‘making love’. Red vents that indomitable carnal urge…the continuous craving to caress…the base mentality to mix pleasure with pain…and even to term the usual “Red-light area activities” as mere religious rites, or even worse, “duties”!

WHITE along with red makes me smirk. A totally absurd existing paradox…you know…it’s like claiming the simultaneous existence of war and peace at the same place at the same moment. White goes up to the ridiculing height of terming those above-mentioned heinous and brutal “duties” to be pure…to be chaste. I cannot help but wonder how a practice which rips apart the chastity of women can be ever termed ‘chaste’!

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 “You must provide shelter to strangers. If you are beaten or abused, you shall not retaliate. And the most important duty is – you cannot claim to be the wife of any man”

 These words and the fanatical ramblings get inscribed in the lives of the Devadasis (female servants of God) on their Dedication Ceremony. According to the ritual, the age of the girl is usually 6-13 for the First Pattam (tying the red and white beads before the Goddess Yellamma); for the Second Pattam (the night of the girl virgin) takes place after the girl’s first menses. Turning a female member of the family into a Devadasi is profitable for the family too…in the cities, the virgin Devadasis fetch a high price. The belief is that by deflowering a Devadasi, any man can cure himself of diseases, can purify himself. In India, ‘Devadasi’ is not a new concept and neither is it an extinct one. Despite being banned, the system finds its way underground, seeping secretly and in turn fuelling the ever-disturbing problem of prostitution in India.

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Well, some are of the opinion that the Devadasi System of the Yellamma Cult is a thoroughly misunderstood aspect. They say that girls are dedicated only under circumstances like deadly disease, infertility or extreme financial crisis, under circumstances which can only be solved through divine intervention. It is said that their intention is to serve their deity by fulfilling the needs of the masses which even includes satisfying the sexual urges of men around.

 But misunderstood or not, the thought of a girl being ‘married’ to a God, her virginity being auctioned to the highest bidder, and then the ongoing process of providing “shelter to strangers” to earn their livelihood not only seems callous and gross, but inhumane too.

Namo’s Got Promises To Keep

Abhranil Roy

 

“And these promises broken, tippicult,

Each word gets lost in the echo.”

If someone would have asked me to choose the one song to describe the scenario in Indian politics before any poll, I would have closed my eyes and chosen this one. All of us are more than aware of the eternal images of politicians promising everything under the sun in their rallies, and then forgetting them for the next 5 years. This time, however, it seems to be a bit different (Or so I hope).

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The BJP’s Narendrabhai Damodardas Modi has been swept into power by an India that still does not understand what has fully happened, despite giving him 31% of the vote. Public disgust has led to the decimation of the Congress led UPA Government, with all the good work they did in the first 5 years of their reign (strengthening nuclear ties with America, RTI) seemingly being undone by a series of scams (2G, Coal Block allocation, CWG), the ever-increasing inflation and dearth of job opportunities and the propagation of the fact that the PM Dr. Manmohan Singh was nothing but a mere puppet in the hands of the all-powerful Congress leader Mrs. Sonia Gandhi. Moreover, the multi-crore publicity blitz that the Bharatiya Janta Party has splashed in this electoral run in promoting Narendra Modi as a “savior” who can “save” this nation from destruction has also gone down very well with the public, and especially the youth of today, who are far less deferential to the traditional voting patterns that are focused on family lineage and caste and are far more inclined to elect someone who will ensure robust economic development and jobs. Hence, even in its hour of triumph, the BJP must acknowledge that it was the dual factor of the creation of a corporate class via the television, the social media as well as the over publicized ineffectiveness of the previous Government which has helped them gain an absolute majority in the Lok Sabha for the first time since 1984.

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The image Modi has projected of himself is that of an honest, forward-looking politician who could bring an end to unemployment and spiraling inflation, who could control prices, and who could take India on the corporate path even as he preserved the interests of the not-so-fortunate sections of the society. And that is the exact promise he must live up to. His words of “achchhe din aayenge” had galvanized the youth, who were also impressed by his “Gujarat model” and obviously believed; that he could do the same on the national level.it was this mantra which cut across caste barriers with the promise of development.

The thing to see, however, is the manner in which Modi will try to handle the 3 M’s, or the 3 issues in particular which he has promised to address – Mandal, Mandir and Market. The market, of course, has almost immediately responded to the vision of a stable, no-coalition Government. As such, Modi is now favourably placed as a politician committed to development at all costs.

The Mandal factor was a little more subtle, with critics worried that his rise could worsen the secretarian tensions between India’s majority Hindus and its 138 million Muslims. However, even that factor was played down eventually, as he was foolishly handed the “chai wallah” status by Congress party’s Mani Shankar Aiyar. As such, a colossal number of backward castes have voted for him, who connected with him as a man of their own, a leader with humble beginnings and a politician who could finally ensure their progress, given that he is their own kind. The “Mandir” card, was however, a stroke of genius. The BJP repeatedly made it clear that it would not change its stay on the mandir issue, and cleverly linked it to the uniform civil code and the abrogation of Article 370 in Jammu and Kashmir. It will be interesting to see, as to how Modi will handle the three components that have brought him where he is, and whether he will be able to handle the dichotomy within them. As of right now, Modi has to give teeth to his campaign, balance the various factions in his party, ensure that his history of “administering violence” does not come in the way of foreign investments and move the country firmly towards inclusive development, which is probably the only kind that works.

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WHAT ABOUT THOSE SIX DAYS?

Farag Anjum Kureshi

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So the bell rang and we all packed our bags ready to head towards home when suddenly my friend (with an innocent face) asked me, “Where did those six days go?”.

Me: “What do you mean?”

He “I mean those six days between 25th December(BC) and 1st January(AD). There is no clear account of it anywhere.Where did they go?”

Strange, isn’t it? Stranger is the fact that much of us never gave a thought about it. Well it’s never too late. To begin with, we follow the Gregorian calendar, also called the Western calendar. The calendar was a refinement in 1582 to the Julian calendar amounting to a 0.002% correction in the length of the year. The soul motive behind this was that the Roman Catholic Church considered this steady drift in the date of Easter undesirable since it was tied to the spring equinox.

Let’s talk about the Julian calendar a bit before we come back to the desires of the Roman Church. The Julian calendar introduced by Julius Caesar in 46 BC was a reform of the Roman calendar. The Julian months were formed by adding ten days to a regular pre-Julian Roman year of 355 days, creating a regular Julian year of 365 days. Two extra days were added to January, August and December, and one extra day was added to April, June, September and November. February was not changed in ordinary years, and so continued to be the traditional 28 days.

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Now since the launch of Gregorian calendar, almost all countries have accepted it. The last European country to adopt the reform was Greece, in 1923.

We all know what BC (Before Christ) and AD (Anno Domini- In the year of our Lord) means. But something strikes me here. If BC is an English abbreviation, then why not AD? The reason being simple that it would mean After Death, i.e., after the death of Jesus. However this would mean that the 33 years commonly associated with the life of Jesus would not be present in either BC or AD time scales!

Most scholars generally assume the year of the birth of Jesus to be around 6–4 BC, though some widen the range to 7–2 Before Christ (was born), but there is no definitive dating. The Gospel of Luke also states that Jesus was “about thirty years old” [Luke 3:23] during the 15th year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar [Luke 3:1]. Tiberius began his reign as Caesar in September of AD 14. The 15th year of his reign would then be AD 28 or 29. If Jesus was born in 5 or 4 BC, that would put the start of Jesus’ ministry around age 32 to 34. Most scholars do not see this as a contradiction of Luke’s claim that Jesus was “about thirty years old.” Some scholars rely on John 8:57: “thou are not yet fifty years old”, making the earliest possible year for Jesus’s birth to be 18 BC. Does it mean that before HE was born, HE was born?

Well there are a lot of theories about the birth date of Jesus.

 The most popular one says that the Romans had their mid-winter Saturnalia festival in late December; barbarian peoples of northern and Western Europe kept holidays at similar times. To top it off, in 274 C.E., the Roman emperor Aurelian established a feast of the birth of Sol Invictus (the Unconquered Sun), on December 25. Christmas, the argument goes, is really a spin-off from these pagan solar festivals. According to this theory, early Christians deliberately chose these dates to encourage the spread of Christmas and Christianity throughout the Roman world: If Christmas looked like a pagan holiday; more pagans would be open to both the holiday and the God whose birth it celebrated.

Facts to support this theory:

  • First, we know that shepherds were in the fields watching their flocks at the time of Jesus’ birth (Luke: 2:7-8).  Shepherds were not in the fields during December. According to Celebrations: The Complete Book of American Holidays, Luke’s account “suggests that Jesus may have been born in summer or early fall. Since December is cold and rainy in Judea, it is likely the shepherds would have sought shelter for their flocks at night”
  • Second, Jesus’ parents came to Bethlehem to register in a Roman census (Luke: 2:1-4).  Such censuses were not taken in winter, when temperatures often dropped below freezing and roads were in poor condition. Taking a census under such conditions would have been self-defeating.

Well now I think I have enough content to answer back to my friend. He was worried about the six days, LOL, now he will be worried as to when to celebrate Christmas!