Scheduled Caste Quotes

All you have to do is wait,” I explained. “Sit tight and wait for the right moment. Not try to change anything by force, just watch the drift of things. Make an effort to cast a fair eye on everything. If you do that, you just naturally know what to do. But everyone’s always too busy. They’re too talented, their schedules are too full. They’re too interested in themselves to think about what’s fair.

All you have to do is wait. Sit tight and wait for the right moment. Not try to change anything by force, just watch the drift of things. Make an effort to cast a fair eye on everything. If you do that, you just naturally know what to do. But everyone's always too busy. They're too talented, their schedules are too full. They're too interested in themselves to think about what's fair.

The Staging In the weeks after my mother's death, I sleep Four or five hours a night, often interrupted By dreams, and take two or three naps a day. It seems like enough. I can survive if I keep This sleep schedule as it has been constructed For me. But if it seems my reflexes are delayed, Or if I sway when I walk, or weep or do not weep, Please don't worry. I'm not under destruction. My grief has cast me in a lethargic cabaret. So pay the cover charge and take your seat. This mourning has become a relentless production And I've got seventy-eight roles to play.

And if I was seen as temperamentally cool and collected, measured in how I used my words, Joe was all warmth, a man without inhibitions, happy to share whatever popped into his head. It was an endearing trait, for he genuinely enjoyed people. You could see it as he worked a room, his handsome face always cast in a dazzling smile (and just inches from whomever he was talking to), asking a person where they were from, telling them a story about how much he loved their hometown (“Best calzone I ever tasted”) or how they must know so-and-so (“An absolutely great guy, salt of the earth”), flattering their children (“Anyone ever tell you you’re gorgeous?”) or their mother (“You can’t be a day over forty!”), and then on to the next person, and the next, until he’d touched every soul in the room with a flurry of handshakes, hugs, kisses, backslaps, compliments, and one-liners. Joe’s enthusiasm had its downside. In a town filled with people who liked to hear themselves talk, he had no peer. If a speech was scheduled for fifteen minutes, Joe went for at least a half hour. If it was scheduled for a half hour, there was no telling how long he might talk. His soliloquies during committee hearings were legendary. His lack of a filter periodically got him in trouble, as when during the primaries, he had pronounced me “articulate and bright and clean and a nice-looking guy,” a phrase surely meant as a compliment, but interpreted by some as suggesting that such characteristics in a Black man were noteworthy. As I came to know Joe, though, I found his occasional gaffes to be trivial compared to his strengths. On domestic issues, he was smart, practical, and did his homework. His experience in foreign policy was broad and deep. During his relatively short-lived run in the primaries, he had impressed me with his skill and discipline as a debater and his comfort on a national stage. Most of all, Joe had heart. He’d overcome a bad stutter as a child (which probably explained his vigorous attachment to words) and two brain aneurysms in middle age.

Of course, many leaders do ask questions constantly—questions such as these: Why are you behind schedule? Who isn't keeping up? What's the problem with this project? Whose idea was that? Too often, we ask questions that disempower rather than empower our subordinates. These questions cast blame; they are not genuine requests for information. Other sorts of questions are often no more than thinly veiled attempts at manipulation: Don't you agree with me on that? Aren't you a team player? If you tend to ask these sorts of questions, this book is for you. So the point isn't that leaders just don't ask enough questions. Often, we don't ask the right questions. Or we don't ask questions in a way that will lead to honest and informative answers. Many of us don't know how to listen effectively to the answers to questions—and haven't established a climate in which asking questions is encouraged. And that's where this book comes in. The purpose of Leading with Questions is to help you become a stronger leader by learning how to ask the right questions effectively, how to listen effectively, and how to create a climate in which asking questions becomes as natural as breathing.

The days when the Planning Commission was composed entirely of subject experts were long gone. Various political and social quotas had now to be filled. North, south, scheduled caste, woman, minority. In the era of coalitions, every constituent political party wanted to name a member. For the PM, himself a former deputy chairman, the Planning Commission had become the place where he could park a trusted aide.

Govt to help dropouts study further’ 98 words Union HRD Minister Smriti Irani Saturday said the government will roll out a programme by this year-end wherein school dropouts, who were forced to take up a job or those who opt to exit education due to financial worries, will be facilitated back into studies up to PhD level. “When it comes to specialisation (in education), women, tribal children, children from Scheduled Castes, Other Backward Castes are not economically empowered to possibly study further and many of them drop out because they need to go and get themselves a job...I left education because I didn’t have money,” Irani said.

The first such avenue was education. After Independence there was a great expansion in school and college education. By law, a certain portion of seats were reserved for the Scheduled Castes. By policy, different state governments endowed scholarships for children from disadvantaged homes.

The attack on 9/11 was a localized event, affecting only a relatively small number of Americans. As indicated earlier, the general threat of terrorism, even factoring in the large death toll on that tragic day, produces a statistically insignificant threat to the average person’s life. People across the country, however, were gripped with fear. And because we are an object-oriented people, most felt the need to project that fear onto something. Some people stopped flying in airplanes, worried about a repeat attack—and for years afterward, air travel always dipped on the anniversary of 9/11.4 Of course, this was and is an irrational fear; it is safer to travel by plane than by car. According to the National Safety Council, in 2010 there were over 22,000 passenger deaths involving automobiles, while no one died in scheduled airline travel that year.5 Nevertheless, Congress responded by rushing through the USA PATRIOT Act six weeks after 9/11—a 240-plus page bill that was previously written, not available to the public prior to the vote, and barely available to the elected officials in Congress, none of whom read it through before casting their votes.6 Two weeks previous to the bill’s passage, President Bush had announced the establishment of the Office of Homeland Security to “develop and coordinate the implementation of a comprehensive national strategy to secure the United States from terrorist threats or attacks.” He explained that “[t]he Office will coordinate the executive branch’s efforts to detect, prepare for, prevent, protect against, respond to, and recover from terrorist attacks within the United States.”7 The office’s efforts culminated in the creation of the Department of Homeland Security (DHS) one year later as a result of the Homeland Security Act of 2002. This law consolidated executive branch organizations related to “homeland security” into a single Cabinet department; twenty-two total agencies became part of this new apparatus. The government, responding to the outcry from a fearful citizenry, was eager to “do something.” All of this (and much, much more), affecting all Americans, because of a localized event materially affecting only a few. But while the event directly impacted only a small percentage of the population, its impact was felt throughout the entire country.

MGM produced an occasional nonstar feature, although these were rare and usually had some obvious hook to draw audiences. A good example of this type of feature was The Fire Brigade, a 1926 project scheduled for a twenty-eight-day shoot and budgeted at $249,556. The picture starred May McAvoy, a “featured player” at MGM, and was directed by William Nigh. The second-class status of the project was obvious from the budget, with only $60,000 going for director, cast, story, and continuity. But the attractions in The Fire Brigade were spectacle, special effects, and fiery destruction rather than star and director. The budget allowed $25,000 for photographic effects and another $66,000 for sets, a relatively high figure since many of the sets for the picture had to be not only built and “dressed” but destroyed as well.

How did you learn to ballroom dance? That’s quite an accomplishment for a boy your age.” “My mom taught me.” He glanced at her. The anger had faded from his eyes. “I’m pretty good.” “I’m not surprised.” She liked the way he’d perked up. It was good to see his confidence emerging. Too bad he couldn’t showcase his talent for tomorrow’s audience. She was certain it would be beneficial. “Is there anything else you could do for the show? What other talents do you have?” Max shrugged. “Nothing, really.” His feet shuffled under the table. “’Cept being a goalie and building boat models, but I can’t do those for a talent show.” “Is there some other kind of dance you could do?” “It’s too late to come up with a new dance. The show’s tomorrow. Besides, it’s for a parent and their child.” His eyes pulled down at the corners, and he ducked his head. “I wish I could help, but I don’t know how to ballroom dance. I guess it wouldn’t be the same without your mom anyway.” His head lifted. Hope sparkled in his eyes. “You could learn.” “Oh, I—I think it would take longer than a day, Max.” Meridith laughed uneasily. “Especially for me.” His head and shoulders seemed to sink. “I guess you’re right. I only know how to lead, and I don’t know how to teach it.” “I know how.” Jake appeared in the doorway, filling it with his broad shoulders and tall frame. “Didn’t mean to eavesdrop.” “He could teach you!” Max’s eyes widened. He looked back and forth between Jake and Meridith. “Oh,” Meridith said, “We couldn’t ask—” “I’m offering,” Jake said. “I can be here bright and early tomorrow morning.” Max’s dimple hollowed his cheek. “No, I—you don’t understand, the show’s tomorrow night, and I’m a bad dancer.” Jake leaned against the doorframe, crossed his arms. “You said you wanted to help.” “Well, I do, but I don’t see how—you know how to ballroom dance?” The notion suddenly struck her as unlikely. “I can do more than swing a hammer.” “I didn’t mean—” “So you’ll do it?” Max bounced on the chair. She hadn’t seen him this excited since she’d arrived. She looked at Jake. At his wide shoulders, thick arms, sturdy calloused hands. She remembered the look in his eyes just minutes ago and imagined herself trapped in the confines of his embrace for as long as it took her to learn the dance. Which would be about, oh, a few years. “And why would you do this?” It wasn’t as if he owed her anything. Unless he was punching the time clock on the lessons. “Let’s just say I was picked on a time or two myself.” Max rubbed his hands together. “Toby and Travis, eat your heart out!” “Now, hold on. We already missed dress rehearsals. I don’t know if Mrs. Wilcox will let us slip in last minute.” “Call her,” Jake said. He had all the answers, didn’t he? She spared him a scowl as she slid past on her way to the phone. “Hi, Mrs. Wilcox? This is Meridith Ward again.” She looked over her shoulder. Max waited, Jake standing behind him, thumbs hooked in his jeans pockets, looking all smug. “I was wondering. If Max can get a replacement for the dance, could he still participate?” Please say no. “I know he’s missing dress rehearsals and—” “That would be no problem whatsoever.” Mrs. Wilcox sounded delighted. “We’d fit him in and be glad to have him. Have you found him another partner?” “Uh, looks like we have.” She thanked Mrs. Wilcox and hung up, then turned to face a hopeful Max. “What did she say?” he asked. Meridith swallowed hard. “She said they could work you back into the schedule.” She cast Jake a plea. “But I don’t know if I can do this. I wasn’t kidding, I have no rhythm whatsoever.” “Look at the kid. You can’t say no to that.” Max was grinning from ear to ear. It was Meridith’s shoulders that slunk now. Heaven help her. She winced and forced the words. “All right. I’ll do it.” Max let out a whoop and threw his arms around her.

So many of our problems today are directly linked to the way we vote or how we are subtly prohibited from voting. In some ways, we have worked hard to enhance the ease of casting a ballot; we have early voting and voting by mail in many states. On the other hand, there are states seeking to limit access to the ballot box, even if they make claims to the contrary. And often these voter suppression efforts target the most marginal members of society. We see long lines at some precincts and short lines at others. It is easier for a white-collar worker to alter his or her schedule to vote, but for a single mother punching a clock with a long bus ride to her job, limiting voting options can amount to disenfranchisement.

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scheduled caste and scheduled tribe children,

Lors du recensement de 1931, il avait été estimé que les outcasts, tribes et autresdepressed classes, comme on appelait alors les intouchables et autres catégories discriminées dans la langue administrative britannique, et qui deviendront par la suite les scheduled castes et les scheduled tribes, regroupaient quelque 50 millions de personnes, soit environ 21 % des 239 millions d’hindous. À la fin des années 1920, des mouvements indépendantistes avaient lancé dans plusieurs provinces des opérations de boycott du recensement, qui recommandaient de ne pas indiquer de jati ni de varna aux agents recenseurs. Petit à petit, on passa d’un système où les recensements visaient à identifier les élites et les hautes castes, parfois pour leur garantir explicitement des droits et des privilèges, à la fin du XIXe siècle et au début du XXe siècle, à une logique visant au contraire à identifier les plus basses castes, dans le but de corriger les discriminations passées. En 1935, alors que des systèmes d’accès préférentiel à certains emplois publics étaient expérimentés par le gouvernement colonial pour les scheduled castes, on constata que certaines jatis qui s’étaient mobilisées dans les années 1890 pour être reconnues comme kshatriya et obtenir l’accès à certains temples et lieux publics, se mobilisaient à présent pour être considérées comme faisant partie des plus basses castes. Cela démontre de nouveau la plasticité des identités individuelles et leur adaptabilité aux incitations contradictoires créées par le pouvoir colonial.

The growing interest in medieval-period reconstruction is vividly legible in the music, cinema listings and television schedules of the late 1960s and early 70s. Besides the BBC Tudor series mentioned earlier – which led to a spin-off cinema version, Henry VIII and his Six Wives, in 1972 – there was Anne of the Thousand Days (1969), centred on Henry’s first wife Anne Boleyn, starring Richard Burton and Geneviève Bujold; the Thomas More biopic A Man for All Seasons (1966); Peter O’Toole as Henry II in Anthony Harvey’s The Lion in Winter (1968); David Hemmings as Alfred the Great (1969); the hysterical convent of Russell’s The Devils (1971); and future singer Murray Head in a melodramatic retelling of Gawain and the Green Knight (1973). In the same period HTV West made a series of often repeated mud-and-guts episodes of Arthur of the Britons (1972–3), and visionary Italian director Pier Paolo Pasolini unveiled his earthy adapations of the Decameron (1970) and The Canterbury Tales (1971). From the time of the English Civil War, Ken Hughes cast Richard Harris in his erratic portrait of Cromwell (1970); and the twenty-three-year-old doomed genius Michael Reeves made his Witchfinder General in 1968, in which the East Anglian farmland becomes a transfigured backdrop to a tale of superstition and violent religious persecution in 1645. Period reconstruction, whether in film, television or music, has been a staple of British culture, innate to a mindset that always finds its identity in the grain of the past.

B K Nehru observed: “The communal electorates (of the British days) in a vestigal form still remain in the shape of reservations for the Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes. They serve to emphasise caste origin and make people conscious of the caste in which they were born. This is not conducive to national integeration

Hitler scheduled joint plebiscites in Austria and Germany for April 10, 1938. Both populations voted on whether to incorporate the two countries into a single state. The people of Austria cast 99.73 percent of their ballots in favor of Anschluss with Germany. The Germans voted 99.08 percent for unification. ... On March 18. 1938, the German government notified the League of Nations that Austria had cancelled its affiliation. This international body, which had never manifest concern for the plight of the distressed little nation, now debated whether Germany was responsible for paying Austria's delinquent membership dues of 50,000 Swiss francs from January 1 to March 13. This ended the chain of circumstances leading to the unification of Hitler's homeland with the German Reich, an event known to history as "the rape of Austria.

Lerner had never been happy with the 1951 stage show, his and Loewe’s entry between Brigadoon and My Fair Lady. He revised it a bit for the national tour, and now decided to give it a completely different storyline and some new numbers to match. The results might, at least, have been a bargain, as the whole thing takes place in and around a single spot, a gold-rush town in more or less everyday (if period) clothes. As opposed to the castles in Spain where Camelot did much of its filming, not to mention the gargoyles and falconry. However, anticipating the disaster-film cycle, Lerner wanted Paint Your Wagon’s mining town (“No-Name City. Population: Male”) to sink into the earth in a catastrophe finale. Worse, production built the place from scratch in the wilds of Oregon, with no nearby living quarters for cast and crew; they had to be trucked and helicoptered in and out each day in a long and pricey commute, greatly protracting the shooting schedule. Back as director again after Camelot, Joshua Logan fretted about all this, but Lerner didn’t care how much of Paramount’s money he spent. He even hired Camelot’s spendthrift designer, John Truscott. In the end, it would appear that no one knows exactly how much Paint Your Wagon cost, but there is no doubt that it lost a vast fortune. It deserved to. Cynically, Lerner took note of changing times and filled the film with a “youth now!” attitude and sexual freedom—refreshing if they didn’t feel so commercially opportunistic. But after all, Hair (1967) had happened. Was Broadway urging Hollywood to go hippie, too, or would Lerner have done this anyway?

Whomever had/have dreams to achieve should go on that path only and should not deviate at all. Whether they are good or bad comes second, going towards what they truly love and what they are and what they are really passionate about matters. See for my goal as you know Medicine, biology, environment and astrobiology it touches all important and every aspect of human life. That is why I had to explore a lot, through out India and India is with lots of colors and lots of hopes in each and every organism I see, each and every human I see. India has a lot to offer but discriminations based on caste, religion and race as well. I am surviving may because I am some so called upper caste or may because north Indians have a love towards me. But the people without any identity? people that are scheduled and isolated? who will support them? they loss their dreams and follow natural path which in turns may give them money but they loss their values completely. Even for scheduled people, they have culture whether they are good or bad. Although according to manu smiriti, they have negative karma and may lead to problems if they rule, but isolating them is inhuman - Parvati to shiv - Refer legends

In addition they travelled maddening distances between games with very few rest days, in a schedule to suit the counties they played rather than logic. Though no Test matches, the tour finished in Bristol with a game against a Gloucestershire team including WG and Gilbert Jessop. The captain of England at the time was Pelham 'Plum' Warner, who wrote.. There is a case in point of the extraordinary power the game has over its votaries in this matter of sinking all prejudices and dislike, real or imaginary, in the tour in the United Kingdom of a team from India composed of men of all castes and creeds. I make so bold as to say that this travelling and living together of natives of various castes and creeds will have far-reaching effect in India.

The show also gave me the opportunity to sing its theme song, “Follow Me,” which was cowritten by my sister. I recently produced and recorded a modern version of the song. In an effort to assuage the fans, I asked many of my original castmates to shoot a video for the song’s reboot. It was tricky because we did a one-day shoot complicated by the protocols of COVID-19. The shooting schedule for that day was insane, with temperature checks and sanitation requirements. Once we all got back into a room together, the years apart vanished. We arrived as adults but performing brought us back to 2004. The release of the song and video spurred new rumors about a Zoey 101 reunion show. I am excited at the prospect of working on another Zoey 101 project, whether that be a long-format movie or series. The cast is eager to reunite and bring the characters into the present. We have been in talks to reinvent the series. Producers and writers have shared some concepts that sound intriguing. Hopefully, a modern-day version will go into production soon.

Few of them knew who she was…. But here was clearly someone with force enough for all of them, who knew the meaning of ‘Oh Freedom’ and ‘We Shall Not Be Moved’ in her flesh and spirit as they never would. They lost their shyness and began to sing the choruses with abandon, though their voices all together dimmed beside hers.”95 Although a well-known cast of speakers had been organized for the week, and the daily schedule offered a full slate of lectures and workshops, it was Fannie Lou Hamer whose indomitable presence was everywhere felt by those in attendance and who brought the purpose to focus.

Of course, Adam was still counting days the old way, as Sunday was the first day of the week, so he was misinforming me as to which day his father actually arrived in Spain, seemingly by accident, by mistake. Perhaps it was a mistake that Adam had confused the European calendar with the Israeli calendar from time to time; perhaps it was not a mistake. Ferran actually arrived the following day, Tuesday, according to the Gregorian calendar and not Monday, when we had all been preparing for his arrival with Martina in vain. I had wanted to introduce her to the old man nicely. However, Tuesday, when he was scheduled to arrive, Mario Larese - Mister Twister - showed up, banging the glass of the store-front door, echoing throughout the entire store and upstairs apartment, as if he was about to break the glass if I did not go down to open it. He was knocking on the plain, large glass of the door with either a lighter or with his metal ring; I don't know which, but it was terrible. I knew Ferran could arrive at any moment, so I told Martina it might be best if she went home to Paola and let me take care of the business. I couldn't ignore Mario, who was almost breaking the glass, seemingly because he had seen my scooter parked in front of the store. I opened the door and he started pushing his way inside, saying, “Let's smoke a joint and drink a coffee.” I replied, “Slow down, cowboy. I've got company, I'm expecting more company, and I just woke up. I have no time now; sorry, Mario.” He kept banging the door because he wanted to smoke somewhere early in the morning, and Canale Vuo was still closed. I was so tempted to slap him. Unintentionally, I let slip that I was expecting Ferran, which only increased his refusal to leave. Theatrical. Dramatic. He wasn't going to get out of my store, my way, my day, my life, my struggle, or my schedule. Meanwhile, the same time, Nico was bugging me on the phone to make sure I delivered a box of 1,000 cones for La Silla because they needed it to make pre-rolled joints for their smokers. They sold 2-3,000 pre-rolled joints a week, ordering two boxes weekly, thus making me waste my time for free. I started to think it had all been planned just to make me lose time every week. They sold 3,000 joints a week and yet couldn't afford more than two boxes of cones to purchase to keep up. Tuesday morning was so urgent for La Silla to get those 1,000 brown cones right then. Just for Nico's 5-euro commission and so he wouldn't be embarrassed in front of his friends at La Silla with his sales performance - no problem. I couldn't kick out Mario, and I didn't want to kick out Martina, who apparently didn't want to leave. I asked them to leave, but Mario was leaning on the kitchen table and unable to look up or turn toward me to meet my gaze. Martina was looking at me angrily. So, I told them both, “OK then, stay here; let the old man inside once he arrives. I have to deliver this box of cones to La Silla right away, but I will be right back. 20 minutes tops.” Adam had also failed to inform me that he had copied a set of keys for his dad at one point, and he had somehow sent them to Israel by mail, I guess. Martina did not need to stay in the store to let Ferran in, but I did not know that. Adam was always secretive and brief with his words, as if it cost him money to say words out of his mouth or dictate to Rachel what to write in an email or what he was supposed to tell me on the phone. I thought that Martina had to stay to let Ferran into the store in case he arrived just when I went to La Mesa to do a favor for Nico. I was on my way back to Urgell from La Silla, when Adam suddenly called me from Amsterdam, screaming on the phone.

The foundries were vast, dark castles built for efficiency, not comfort. Even in the mild New England summers, when the warm air combined with the stagnant heat from the machines or open flames in the huge melting rooms where the iron was cast, the effects were overwhelming. The heat came in unrelenting waves and sucked the soul from your body. In the winter, the enormous factories were impossible to heat and frigid New England air reigned supreme in the long halls. The work was difficult, noisy, mind-numbing, sometimes dangerous and highly regulated. Bathroom and lunch breaks were scheduled down to the second. There was no place to make a private phone call. Company guards, dressed in drab uniforms straight out of a James Cagney prison film [those films were in black and white, notoriously tough, weren’t there to guard company property. They were there to keep an eye on us. No one entered or the left the building without punching in or out on a clock, because the doors were locked and opened electronically from the main office.

What can explain this difference? On the surface, much appears to hinge on Richard’s programming feat, his software shim. Otherwise, his effort with Konqueror seems much like my struggles with Mozilla. Perhaps he was just a better programmer than me, and without his coding cleverness, there would be no story. That explanation is too simple. Richard made his shim only after determining he needed one last link in a chain of inspiration, intuition, reasoning, and estimation. His shim was a consequence of his overall plan. To show what I mean, here’s an accounting of what Richard did in his first couple of days at Apple. He began by quizzing us on the browser analysis we had done before his arrival, and after hearing it, he quickly discarded our effort with Mozilla as unlikely to bear fruit. By doing so, he demonstrated the self-confidence to skip any ingratiating display of deference to his new manager, a person who had years of experience in the technical field he was newly entering. Next, Richard resolved to produce a result on the shortest possible schedule. He downloaded an open source project that held genuine promise, the Konqueror code from KDE, a browser that might well serve as the basis for our long-term effort. In getting this code running on a Mac, he decided to make the closest possible approximation of a real browser that was feasible on his short schedule. He identified three features—loading web pages, clicking links, and going back to previous pages. He reasoned these alone would be sufficiently compelling proofs of concept. He then made his shortcuts, and these simplifying choices defined a set of nongoals: Perfect font rendering would be cast aside, as would full integration with the Mac’s native graphics system, same for using only the minimum source code from KDE. He reasoned that these shortcuts, while significant, would not substantially detract from the impact of seeing a browser surf web pages. He resolved to draw together these strands into a single demo that would show the potential of Konqueror. Then, finally, he worked through the technical details, which led him to develop his software shim, since that was the only thing standing between him and the realization of his plan. His thought process amplified his technical acumen. In contrast, Don and I were hoping Mozilla would pan out somehow. I was trying to get the open source behemoth to build on the Mac, with little thought beyond that. I had no comparable plan, goals, nongoals, tight schedule, or technical shortcuts.

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