@moneyacademyKE LOL now the Chinese will bring manpower from China and the people of Kenya will just watch. 1.8 billion by Adani to 2.9b wow, someone made it big in kenya
@JAWAHARNEHR Fking as..ole now wants to tarnish Jains. I wish Modi was one tenth of a fasist he was made out to be. Your kind of anri nationals belong six feet under fking goat fkr
The Story of "Little Kerala"
As known, folks from Kerala love coconut water. Those in Australia had a place. And the person selling that tender coconut was guy named Christeen.
When he saw so many Malayali customers, he developed a desire—he wanted to see the homeland of the people who showed him so much love.
He thoroughly enjoyed experiencing Kerala’s landscape, rain, and culture.
Back in Australia, while climbing a coconut tree to harvest tender coconuts, Christian unfortunately fell down and broke his leg. A metal plate was inserted into his leg. However, the pain didn't subside. The plate needed to be removed. But because he had a congenital kidney issue, this plate-removal surgery was not considered possible.
But then, a positive reply came from just one place—and that was from our Kerala.
Christeen arrived in Kerala once again. The doctors at the Center for Advanced Orthopedics at Apollo Adlux Hospital successfully treated and fixed his leg.
Today, he says that Kerala has gifted him a second life.
But the story doesn't end there. Christian, who fell deeply in love with Kerala, purchased 12 acres of land in Australia and started a coconut plantation. Not only that, he even built canals throughout the land, just like the ones seen in Kerala. If you look at it, it resembles a miniature Kerala. He named it "Little Kerala"
When asked what he liked most about Kerala, his reply was:
"The People."
In a time when there is so much hatred being spread, it is good to share stories of friendship and love
Rcvd from WA ( it is in Malayalam, hence translated with Gemini)
I am an Indian,
and everyone says I lack civic sense.
They can overturn cars, burn streets,
and vandalize a city after a championship game.
I dance at an airport excited about my first foreign trip, and suddenly I am the face of poor civic sense.
I am an Indian,
and everyone says I steal jobs.
They move factories across oceans,
shift profits through tax havens,
and automate entire industries overnight.
I study, compete, earn a visa, work 18 hours a day, sometimes multiple jobs and somehow I am the one stealing jobs and scamming the system.
I am an Indian,
and everyone says I am everywhere.
I build your software,
treat your illness,
teach your children,
drive your taxis,
and open your stores.
The world became a village,
yet my presence remains a problem.
I am an Indian,
and everyone says I am too loud.
The evening news screams outrage.
Political rallies shake entire cities.
The internet echoes with anger day and night.
I celebrate a wedding, a festival, a victory,
and I am told my joy is too loud.
I am an Indian,
and everyone says I smell of curry.
The world smells of gunpowder,
of hatred,
of division,
of endless arguments about race and religion.
I carry the fragrance of spices from my grandmother's kitchen,
and somehow that is what offends.
I am an Indian,
and everyone says I have no culture.
I come from a civilization that counted the stars
when much of the world was still learning maps.
I speak languages older than nations.
I celebrate hundreds of traditions,
yet I am told I have no culture.
I am an Indian,
and everyone says I am backward.
I send missions to the Moon.
I build vaccines for millions.
I run companies across continents.
Yet a viral video of one fool becomes evidence against a billion people.
I am an Indian,
and everyone says I worship celebrities.
I celebrate my favorite actor's success
with flowers, music, and a few glasses of milk.
Others worship influencers who sell outrage, turn every disagreement into a battlefield, and every opinion into a war.
Yet my celebration is the one that makes headlines.
I am an Indian,
and everyone says I gather in crowds.
We walk together in processions,
celebrating our faith, our culture, our traditions.
Everyone is welcome.
No shops are looted.
No neighborhoods are burned.
No one is threatened for thinking differently.
We sing.
We dance.
We pray.
And somehow our gathering becomes the problem.
I am an Indian,
and everyone says I bring my culture everywhere.
I light a lamp in a foreign land.
I wear a saree in the snow.
I teach my children the language of their grandparents.
Others build walls between neighbors,
argue endlessly over identity,
and forget where they came from.
Yet I am told I should leave my culture behind.
I am an Indian,
and everyone says I live in the past.
But my past gave me yoga,
mathematics, philosophy, meditation,
and the idea that the world is one family.
The future keeps borrowing from my past,
while telling me to be embarrassed by it.
I am an Indian,
and everyone says I should be ashamed.
Ashamed of my accent.
Ashamed of my food.
Ashamed of my festivals.
Ashamed of my traditions.
Ashamed of existing.
But I am not ashamed.
I am the child of farmers and philosophers,
scientists and saints, workers and dreamers.
I come from a land that taught the world
that truth can be many-sided,
that all paths deserve respect,
and that the entire world is one family.
Yes, we have flaws. Every nation does.
But judge me by my actions, not by your stereotypes.
For I am an Indian.
And before you tell me what is wrong with me, look honestly at what you have normalized in yourself.
For I am an Indian.
The world may mock my accent,
question my customs,
laugh at my celebrations,
and judge me through a thousand stereotypes.
Yet I stand tall.
For I belong to a civilization older than empires, a culture richer than prejudice, and a people whose spirit refuses to bend.
Jai Hind
@DavidDeutschOxf@grok These are khalistanis, not sikhs, khalistanis are notorious for killing people. The even bombed an airline which killed 300+ passengers
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