BRAIN PLASTICITY
What if I had told you that the mechanism of your brain is like plasticine and could be moulded to your own unique set of beliefs and hence abilities? Could you afford not to even try to step into a new reality? Would you dare?
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What if I had told you that the mechanism of your brain is like plasticine and could be moulded to your own unique set of beliefs and hence abilities? Could you afford not to even try to step into a new reality? Would you dare?
One day I suddenly thought, “My goodness, where’s Gareth?” So, I started looking. Last I heard, he was working with the British Army in Iraq, doing long stints: I tracked him down to prison cell in Kuwait. He had been used as a drug mule, nabbed and sentenced to death by hanging. His death was commuted to life and then further reduced to 15 years. When I located him, he had already been inside for four years. Thereafter I sent him a letter, every month, for 67 consecutive months. My Letters to Kuwait, were received by Gareth on his hidden device: news and comment on life in South Africa, my reflections on humanity and our world.
When a twenty-nine year-old Indian immigrant arrives from Zanzibar to a cold and bleak post-war London in 1946, he hadn’t expected on finding a mummified corpse in the East End building in which he’d intended to set up shop. Unable to unravel the mystery of the corpse and fearful for his future, he hatches fantastical plans to get rid of it, with unexpected consequences.
He hadn’t planned on romancing the dead man’s nice niece either…
Do other-than-human animals matter morally? Most, if not all, reasonable people think they do. But, if they can be shown to possess characteristics and abilities that would qualify them for having moral standing, what exactly is the extent of this status?
BEING BLACK AND BI-POLAR IN SOUTH AFRICA
‘My struggles with mental illness were in some ways like a child crying out for attention; more than that they were a cry for help from the mind I felt trapped in. There was a darkness in me that many times swallowed me whole.’
This is how Keamogetswe Bopalamo introduces her account of her troubled early life. It is an intensely personal account, and yet it speaks to a reality much broader than itself. In the exciting whirl of South Africa’s post-apartheid society, there is this darker side: the confusions, the fears, the rebellions, the degradations and emotional pain.
Wounds & Wings is a collection of poetry that charts the transformation of a wounded woman as she heals and begins to find her wings, after the end of an abusive marriage.
When abused woman the world over reach a juncture, and a decision is made to abandon abuse, each woman is made to carve her path to salvation. Bilkis does this sublimely in Wounds & Wings, a transfixing recounting from discomfiture to triumph. It permits the reader admittance to recovery and happiness.