White Teeth by Zadie Smith

Between rocks and hard places..

Dr Marcus Chalfer begins a new chapter in our genetic future in 1992, he believes, man makes himself after all and he is responsible for what he makes.
Dr Marcus Chalfer begins a new chapter in our genetic future in 1992, he believes, man makes himself after all and he is responsible for what he makes.
The simple biological facts, he thought, the structure of animal cells for instance are mystery to all but 14-year-old children and scientists like himself.
The simple biological facts, he thought, the structure of animal cells for instance are mystery to all but 14-year-old children and scientists like himself.
The former spending their time drawing them in class, and himself injecting his laboratory mouse with foreign DNA.
The former spending their time drawing them in class, and himself injecting his laboratory mouse with foreign DNA.
In between, flows a great ocean of anima-right activitst, students of politics, fundamentalists who professed strange objections to his life's work.
In between, flows a great ocean of anima-right activitst, students of politics, fundamentalists who professed strange objections to his life's work.
If it were not for the mouse that would be little interest in his work. To determine a mouse's future stirrs people up.
If it were not for the mouse that would be little interest in his work. To determine a mouse's future stirrs people up.
It isn't determining the future of a cancer, it is determining the future of the mouse.
It isn't determining the future of a cancer, it is determining the future of the mouse.
They seem unable to think of the animal as site, a biological site for experimentation into heredity, into disease, into mortality...
They seem unable to think of the animal as site, a biological site for experimentation into heredity, into disease, into mortality...
Marcus, the scientist argues: "All animals are in a sense programmed to die. It's perfectly natural. If it appears random, that's only because we don't clearly understand it...."
Marcus, the scientist argues: "All animals are in a sense programmed to die. It's perfectly natural. If it appears random, that's only because we don't clearly understand it...."
"...why some people seem predisposed to cancer, why some people die of natural causes at 63 and some at 97..."
"...why some people seem predisposed to cancer, why some people die of natural causes at 63 and some at 97..."
"...surely the point of the laboratory mouse is that we are given the opportunity to see a life and a death stage by stage unedr the microscope."
"...surely the point of the laboratory mouse is that we are given the opportunity to see a life and a death stage by stage unedr the microscope."
His son, Marcus junior, a young environmentalist of the year strongly believes in every creatures' right to live.
His son, Marcus junior, a young environmentalist of the year strongly believes in every creatures' right to live.
Marcus, the scientist feels as he does abut all human decisions of this kind. One can neither agree or disagree with them as ideas...
Marcus, the scientist feels as he does abut all human decisions of this kind. One can neither agree or disagree with them as ideas...
...there is no rhyme, nor reason for so much of what people do. And in his present estrangement from his son he feels more powerless than ever.
...there is no rhyme, nor reason for so much of what people do. And in his present estrangement from his son he feels more powerless than ever.
Marcus junior, the environmentalist, believes in his first commitment to animals and yet can he harm his father?
Marcus junior, the environmentalist, believes in his first commitment to animals and yet can he harm his father?
He wants to be more proactive in the face of future. He has thought a lot about extreme decisions. It always seems more likely to him that he will just return to his room...
He wants to be more proactive in the face of future. He has thought a lot about extreme decisions. It always seems more likely to him that he will just return to his room...
...and calmly finish constructing Lego Medieval Castle. What else can he do?
...and calmly finish constructing Lego Medieval Castle. What else can he do?
What other choices can he be certain about?
What other choices can he be certain about?
Because choices need time, the fullness of time, time being the horizontal axis of morality - you make a decision and then you wait and see...
Because choices need time, the fullness of time, time being the horizontal axis of morality - you make a decision and then you wait and see...
But 12-years old scientist's son feared the consequences and it is the same now...
But 12-years old scientist's son feared the consequences and it is the same now...
...always the fear of consequences, what he is about to do to his father is so colossal, the consequences are inconceivable...
...always the fear of consequences, what he is about to do to his father is so colossal, the consequences are inconceivable...
...he can not imagine a moment occuring after that act, only blackness, nothingness, something like the end of the world.
...he can not imagine a moment occuring after that act, only blackness, nothingness, something like the end of the world.
And facing the end of the world, or even just the end of the year, has always given him a strangely detached feeling.
And facing the end of the world, or even just the end of the year, has always given him a strangely detached feeling.
He glares up and down at the happy people watching his father presenting them his famous laboratory mouse. They are all confident that nothing will happen or cetain they can deal with it if it does.
He glares up and down at the happy people watching his father presenting them his famous laboratory mouse. They are all confident that nothing will happen or cetain they can deal with it if it does.
But the world happens to you, you don't happen to the world. There is nothing you can do.
But the world happens to you, you don't happen to the world. There is nothing you can do.
For the first time in his life, he truly believes that. And his father believes the direct opposite.
For the first time in his life, he truly believes that. And his father believes the direct opposite.
And there he realizes how he has got here. This is how we all got here. Between rocks and hard places.
And there he realizes how he has got here. This is how we all got here. Between rocks and hard places.
The founder of the 'Keepers of the Eternal and Victorous Islamic Nation' was born in Barbados in 1960 to Presbyterian parents. He converted to Islam after a vision and went to study at Saudi Islamic University where he studied Arabic for 5 years.
The founder of the 'Keepers of the Eternal and Victorous Islamic Nation' was born in Barbados in 1960 to Presbyterian parents. He converted to Islam after a vision and went to study at Saudi Islamic University where he studied Arabic for 5 years.
He changes his name to Brother Krahim and comes to England. He locks himself in his aunt's garage in Birmingham and after that he starts to preach:
He changes his name to Brother Krahim and comes to England. He locks himself in his aunt's garage in Birmingham and after that he starts to preach:
" My brothers, ideology means a kind of brainwashing, what is the result of this democracy - oppression, persecution, slaughter, chaos, disorder, confusion, the entire world is in turmoil, everywhere men indulge in promiscuity, vice, corruption...
" My brothers, ideology means a kind of brainwashing, what is the result of this democracy - oppression, persecution, slaughter, chaos, disorder, confusion, the entire world is in turmoil, everywhere men indulge in promiscuity, vice, corruption...
...and indulgence, and on this day 1 December 1992 I bear witness that there is nothing worthy of worship besides the sole Creator..."
...and indulgence, and on this day 1 December 1992 I bear witness that there is nothing worthy of worship besides the sole Creator..."
His speaches start to be widely popular within the black and Asian community, especially among the 16 to 25 age group.
His speaches start to be widely popular within the black and Asian community, especially among the 16 to 25 age group.
Milat is preparing himself, the Metropolitan Police has their eye trained on him. Millat is stoned. He is ready for revenge, retribution, jihad but before that he stops at home..
Milat is preparing himself, the Metropolitan Police has their eye trained on him. Millat is stoned. He is ready for revenge, retribution, jihad but before that he stops at home..
His father, Samad Miah Iqbal opens the door angrily: "...the one I sent home comes out an Englishman and the one I keep here is fully paid fundamentalist terrorist...."
His father, Samad Miah Iqbal opens the door angrily: "...the one I sent home comes out an Englishman and the one I keep here is fully paid fundamentalist terrorist...."
Milat passes him in the doorway without even looking at him. Samad closes the door and talks to himself more quietly: "We live in a place where we are never welcomed only tolerated..."
Milat passes him in the doorway without even looking at him. Samad closes the door and talks to himself more quietly: "We live in a place where we are never welcomed only tolerated..."
" Who would want to stay? But you have made a devil's pact, it drags you in and suddenly you are unsuitable to return, your children are unrecognizable, you belong nowhere..."
" Who would want to stay? But you have made a devil's pact, it drags you in and suddenly you are unsuitable to return, your children are unrecognizable, you belong nowhere..."
"...and then you begin to give up the very idea of belonging."
"...and then you begin to give up the very idea of belonging."
Milat listens in his room to his father's moaning, then just gets up and leaves the house again. He comes to Trafalgar Square.
Milat listens in his room to his father's moaning, then just gets up and leaves the house again. He comes to Trafalgar Square.
In the distance Big Ben. In the square, Nelson, George IV...all the statues facing the clock. He asks himself: "Now, will somebody please tell me: what is it about the English that makes them build their statues with their backs to their culture...
In the distance Big Ben. In the square, Nelson, George IV...all the statues facing the clock. He asks himself: "Now, will somebody please tell me: what is it about the English that makes them build their statues with their backs to their culture...
...and their eyes on the time?" Then he nods to himself: "Maybe because they look to their future to forget their past." He sits on a bench nearby.
...and their eyes on the time?" Then he nods to himself: "Maybe because they look to their future to forget their past." He sits on a bench nearby.
A few months after Milat's father arrived in England he has sat on the bench Milat is now sitting, nursing a bleeding thumb, the top sliced off buy a careless stroke from one of the older writer.
A few months after Milat's father arrived in England he has sat on the bench Milat is now sitting, nursing a bleeding thumb, the top sliced off buy a careless stroke from one of the older writer.
he was sent home. He went outside, sat on the bench and wrote his name with the dribbling blood.
he was sent home. He went outside, sat on the bench and wrote his name with the dribbling blood.
Then, in an attempt to make it more permanent he had gone over it again with a pen knife, scratching it into the stone.
Then, in an attempt to make it more permanent he had gone over it again with a pen knife, scratching it into the stone.
His father was depressed. Looking at it now, Milat feels nothing but contempt. All his life he wanted a Godfather, and all he gets a faulty, broken, one-handed waiter of a man...
His father was depressed. Looking at it now, Milat feels nothing but contempt. All his life he wanted a Godfather, and all he gets a faulty, broken, one-handed waiter of a man...
who has spent 18 years in a strange land and made no more mark than this.
who has spent 18 years in a strange land and made no more mark than this.
"Don't you see, Abba?" whispers Milat: "That's the long, long history of us and them."
"Don't you see, Abba?" whispers Milat: "That's the long, long history of us and them."
Milat was here to finish it, to revenge it. To turn that history around. He is stoned. He believes the decisions that are made, come back.
Milat was here to finish it, to revenge it. To turn that history around. He is stoned. He believes the decisions that are made, come back.
He believes we live in circles, his is a simple, neat fatalism: 'What goes around comes around."
He believes we live in circles, his is a simple, neat fatalism: 'What goes around comes around."
He looks up and see Irie's face in a window of a passing bus. She sees him too for a moment...
He looks up and see Irie's face in a window of a passing bus. She sees him too for a moment...
like the moment between thought and speech, like the split second intervention of memory or regret.
like the moment between thought and speech, like the split second intervention of memory or regret.
Irie is 8 weeks pregnant but will never know if Milat is the father or his bother...because whichever brother it is, it is the other one two. She will never know.
Irie is 8 weeks pregnant but will never know if Milat is the father or his bother...because whichever brother it is, it is the other one two. She will never know.
Archie Jones looks at his daughter, Irie and she looks at him: " The funny thing about getting old in a country is people always want to hear that from you. They want to hear it really was once a green and pleasant land, they need it...
Archie Jones looks at his daughter, Irie and she looks at him: " The funny thing about getting old in a country is people always want to hear that from you. They want to hear it really was once a green and pleasant land, they need it...
...but what can he tell her? This is how we all got here. Between rocks and hard places."
...but what can he tell her? This is how we all got here. Between rocks and hard places."

Imagine the world

with no beginning

or end,

imagine,

if you can,

events in the world

happening

repeatedly,

endlessly,

in the way

they always have..


White teeth,

white clouds,

a solid block

of ice

appear untouchable

and yet,

heat

may crack it,

the interaction

creates change...

water for life,

disappears

into a dense fog

of nothingness.


Then

death

brings

its icy cold

breath

into emptiness,

the further interaction

creates change...

to its original form

of

white teeth,

white clouds

a solid

block of ice.


The continuity of life,

a sprawling tale

'...about how we all got here

-from the Caribbean,

from the Indian subcontinents...

and about what

here,

turned out to be.'

(Salman Rushdie)


On the outskirt of London

amid a restless hybrid

of voices,

tones

and textures,

on New Year's morning

of 1975

people are tired

of almost dying,

and yet,

life goes on

with a raucous energy

and confidence.


Archie Jones seals up the windows

of his car

and waits for the exhaust fumes

to fill his lungs,

failed marriage,

and a bag

full of kitchen appliances,

on his lap

this is what divorce is,

taking things you no longer want

from people you no longer love,

but dying is no easy trick...


For 18 years the butcher Mohamed

has been a victim

of serious physical attacks

and robbery,

without fail,

three times a year.

Knifed a total

of five times,

three fingers lost,

broken arms

and legs,

his teeth kicked out

and feet

set on fire.

He was a big man.

He gave as good as he got.

But he was one man

against army,

there was nobody who could help.

Paki, why don't you go back to your own country?

The culprits call after him,

teenage thugs and their parents,

the local football team

and mouthy, white-skirted secretaries

in deadly heels,

they are all white,

just like Archie Jones

trying to commit

such an unholy act

while parked

in front of his shop.


You must live life

with the full knowledge

that your action will remain.

We are creatures of consequence,

our forbearers knew it,

some day, our children will know it.

They will be born of our actions,

our actions will become their destinies.

He pulls coughing Archie out of the car

throwing his bag after him.


Clara Bowden,

an unusually tall Jamaican woman,

raised as a Jehovah's Witness

sits in her room

just below street level

with bars on her window

and partial views

of feet,wheels, car exhausts

and swinging umbrellas,

such slight glimpses are often telling,

a lively imagination can squeeze

much pathos out of a frayed lace,

a darned sock,

a low swinging bag

that has seen better days,

its content spilling slowly

in front of her eyes...


She runs out and picks it up,

giving Archie a wide grin

that revealed

possibly

her one imperfection,

a complete lack of teeth

in the top of her mouth.

Archie sees her hither look,

tingled with sadness

and disappointment,

she doesn't have

a great deal

of other options

left,

she is 19 and he is 47.

Six weeks later they are married.


Nine months later

their daughter Irie

is born

as races mix

and bloodlines

half black

half white

watching her parents

through the grey-green eyes of loss.


And she grows

into a teenager

a stranger

in a stranger land,

unwilling to settle

for genetic fate,

waiting

for her transformation

from Jamaican hourglass

heavy

with the sand

to English Rose...


Her father, Archie,

his quiet fear,

his pigeon steps,

her mother

sneering

at his impotent indecision.

Only his friend,

Samad, the Iraqi,

has looked at him

with a great sympathy,

their wartime friendship

severed

by 30 years of separation

across continents,

but in the spring of 1973

a middle aged man

seeking a new life

with his 20-years old

Bangladeshi bride

seeks Archie out.


Archie is surprised,

does he remember him?

Oh yes,

he does...

the kind of friendship

an Englishman makes

on holiday

a friendship that crosses

class and colour

a friendship that survives

because the Englishman assumes

the physical proximity

will not continue,

and yet...

Samad Miah Iqbal is here to stay.


He works

as a waiter

for his younger cousin

in his Indian restaurant,

never seeing the sun,

never seeing his wife,

wanting desperately

to be wearing a sign:

I am not a waiter,

I have been a student,

a scientist,

a soldier once,

I have a wife,

we live in East London,

on the wrong side

of High Road,

I am a Muslim,

but Allah has forsaken me

or I have forsaken Allah,

I have a friend, Archie

I am 49

and I have twin sons

Magid and Milat.”


All I wanted was

two Muslim boys,”

Sadam said to Archie:

You teach them,

they don't listen,

you show them the road

and they take bloody path

to the Inn of Court.

You guide them

and they run away

from your grasp

to a Chester Sport Centre.”

Holding a five years old Magid

by his hand, he continued:

But if you could

begin

again,

you could take them

back

to the source of the river,

to the start of the story,

to the homeland...”

And that is

what he does.

One of them

is sent

to Bangladesh

to be raised by relatives

into a proper devout Muslim.


The people of Bangladesh

live under invisible threat

of random disaster

flood,

hurricane,

debris

and mud

everywhere,

but Magid

is not

the only one

who learns to hold

his life lightly.

While he watches

cyclone shaking things

from high places,

Milat on the other side

of the world,

is pushing his luck

along the towering wall

of the cemetery,

pot-smoking.


When Magid

returns

to England,

white-suited,

silly wig lawyer,

more English

than the Englishman,

his brother

becomes

the extremist

of Islamic faction

dedicated

to violent actions

and ridiculed

in the press.


Mr and Mrs Chalfen

have two

successful

scientific jobs

and two

whiter than white

well educated

sons.

This white

middle class

family

is asked

by school

to help

poor

and

disadvantaged...


Irie and Milat

are invited

for a lunch,

The proper lady

of the house

looks at them

the way

she has looked

at her delphinium.

There is damage here.

There is a quiet pain

in the first one,

in the second

there is

a deeper sadness,

a terrible loss,

a gaping wound.

A hole

that needs more,

than education and money,

that needs love.

She longs

to touch

the site

with her green finger,

close the gap,

knit the wound.

But they are foreigners

to her

as she is to them.


On the outskirt of London

amid a restless hybrid

of voices,

tones

and textures,

on New Year's morning

of 1995

people are tired

of almost dying,

and yet,

life goes on

with a raucous energy

and confidence.


Milat and Magid

stands face to face,

a loaded gun

between them.

Do you really believe

there is a type of man

who kills and a type of man

who doesn't?”

Milat asks his returned twin brother,

His family threatened,

his beliefs attacked,

his way of life destroyed,

his whole world coming to end,

he will destroy everything

that stays in his way.”

It has long been my intention

to make the life of my people

easier,

new laws are required

to deal with our unlucky fate.

The English fight fate to the death.”

Magid looks Milat

closely into eyes.

So we both say, it has to be!

Milat points his gun at him.


It doesn't have to be.”

Irie appears from nowhere

and grabs the gun.

Nothing does.”


Milat steps forward

shading his violet eyes

from a fading hatred

in his heart.

Magid embraces him,

his tensed

high cheekbones

released

in a beautiful smile.

Irie kisses them both.


Their past,

present

and future

is linked

as races mix

and bloodlines,

like attracts like,

the feeling of belonging

nowhere

that comes to people

who belong everywhere.

They are all,

she has got,

they need her,

and she gives herself

to them,

body and soul.


Nine months later

their daughter Beauty

is born

as races mix

and bloodlines

half black

half white

and half brown

watching her parents

respectable Mr and Mrs Chalfen

through the violet eyes of loss,

her high cheekbones released in half smile,

unaware,

that just beyond

the corner,

on the wrong side

of High Road,

one or two,

of her real fathers live.


That is how

Beauty

gets to be

the new 'English Rose'.

That is how

we all get here,

between rocks

and ice

and hard places....


This story has no end,

or does it?

White Teeth by Zadie Smith

More by this Author


Comments 32 comments

diogenes profile image

diogenes 4 years ago from UK and Mexico

I'm speechless...an extraordinary work of art.

Bob


Beata Stasak profile image

Beata Stasak 4 years ago from Western Australia Author

thank you, Bob, you are too kind...there are so many extraordinary hubs are there, I am grateful that someone finds my hubs worthwhile to stop by and leave a kind comment as well:)


carolinemd21 profile image

carolinemd21 4 years ago from Close to Heaven

Wonderful hub Beata. Full of gorgeous pictures and inspiring thoughts as always.


pmccray profile image

pmccray 4 years ago from Utah

You're work is in a word beautiful. Loved the accompanying photos. Out of all the nature scenes those with water make me weak in the knees. Excellent hub, beautifully done, thank you for sharing. Voted up, marked beautiful and interesting.


stessily 4 years ago

Beata, This never-ending tale epitomizes Jean-Baptiste Alphonse Karr's famous epigram: plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose("the more it changes, the more it's the same thing"). It is through friction and flow that refinement takes place so different aspects may be highlighted but the essence remains.

Lovely images and imaginative portrayals.

Thank you for sharing.


Gypsy Rose Lee profile image

Gypsy Rose Lee 4 years ago from Riga, Latvia

Awesome Beata. A work of great creativity.


Breen Bergstrome 4 years ago

I have to agree with diogenes..this is an extraordinary and compound art piece.

Well done indeed.


Beata Stasak profile image

Beata Stasak 4 years ago from Western Australia Author

Thank you so much my dear fellow hubbers for your kind responses, I am very happy the 'scattered images in my mind' are useful for someone:)...all the best with hubbing and looking forward to hear from you again:)


Eiddwen profile image

Eiddwen 4 years ago from Wales

Hi what a wonderful hub and one which I am voting up up and away and also bookmarking.

What a gem and one which I am going to tread over and over again.

I am so glad you found me on here because I am going to enjoy getting to know and following you on here.

Take care and enjoy your day my friend.

Eddy.


cdub77 profile image

cdub77 4 years ago from Portland Or

Beata, reading this was quite emotionally powerful. You summarize the entire novel with only presenting a few scenes, yet you find the essence of almost every major character.

I'm not sure what to characterize this. It's most assuredly original poetry at times as well as plot summary and of course analysis. I think Zadie Smith would be extremely moved to read this. You really do sum up Archie and Clara's odd coupling artfully well.

This was like a highlight real of the most important moments as well as what made them so important: their emotional gravity set within the context of the complications of human relationships and their obligations/concerns with history.

It should be noted at the beginning of your post that there are some serious spoilers concerning Smith's novel in this discussion as the casual reader might not detect the critical nature of this piece and therefore not realize they are reading most of the plot of a book when they may wish to read the book first and then appreciate what you did here.

Your tone and diction are powerful. You take us to emotional places because you go there yourself. Be strong, wise, and kind and take us where your muse leads. That is your job.

Thanks for your kind words on my posts and page. I appreciate you taking the time to do so and the sentiment definitely encourages. I'd be interested in reading more of your critical or creative texts.

Thanks again,

Clark Waggoner


Beata Stasak profile image

Beata Stasak 4 years ago from Western Australia Author

My dear Clark, I am humbled by your kind and generous comment, my reflections are just that ' my own personal dialogue with a piece of art, which is the particular book in my hand. I should be more careful not to reveal too much to the future readers and yet I believe that 'the real treasures of literatures' just like paintings or other objects of art, 'talk' to each of us differently depending on our own personal feelings at that moment as well as our own experiences, our own individuality...

There is only one original story and yet the story shapes its own path in minds of its readers and by doing so it is forever changing from one original story to a myriad of interpretations and retellings....

My own reflection is just one of the branches on the big tree of the story of the 'White Teeth'.

I am often afraid if the real authors would be pleased with my individualistic interpretations as I tend to play with their texts or picks just the parts that 'talk to me the most' and there is a thin line how much you can creatively add or take without reshaping the text to your own vision, I hope I will never cross that line.

I hope, dear Clark that I didn't bother you too much with my explanation and looking forward to hear from you again:)

All the best from Beata


lilyfly profile image

lilyfly 4 years ago from Wasilla, Alaska

Beata, how lovely that you bring this writer forth! Unbelievable greatness, the real stuff! Love yaz, lily


Gloshei profile image

Gloshei 4 years ago from France

What beautiful words Beata, and outstanding pictures. Everyone can relate to something in your words thankyou for sharing.


cdub77 profile image

cdub77 4 years ago from Portland Or

Hearing you explain what exactly you are up to here really does help me understand and appreciate it more.

I am sure I am not alone in this. Often times, we as readers, when we encounter something new to our experience, like I did with your art here, need a clue to help us circumvent the time it normally takes us to acclimate our understanding to fully appreciate the subtlety of a vision like yours.

Discussing your vision as an artist is a fine line and definitively your prerogative (I support any mature inclination on your part to withhold such discussions as all artists fall somewhere on the scale from visionary to pedestrian), but given the approriatory nature of your art, your audience might find a little such discussion useful by way of introduction.

As someone who has written a novel, it'd be supremely, IMHO, satisfying to see someone take it and run with it like you have here. I see now how White Teeth is alive for you, and I am sure (for my part) that Zadie Smith would feel quite honored to know she was the muse for something as alive and tender as this.

Clark


Credence2 profile image

Credence2 4 years ago from Florida (Space Coast)

Nice to see you again Beata, a most touching account in poetic style. We all spend so much of our time untangling from our lives all of these webs, that stand in the way of the universal standard of agape love. Cred2


schoolgirlforreal profile image

schoolgirlforreal 4 years ago from USA

This is wonderful and beautiful about life, thankyou


Gloshei profile image

Gloshei 4 years ago from France

Beautiful words it really makes you sit back and think. Wonderful pictures as well thaks for sharing.


Beata Stasak profile image

Beata Stasak 4 years ago from Western Australia Author

Thank you, my dear followers for your kind and uplifting comments, I just came back from my travels in the Southern tip of Western Australia and your friendly messages welcomed me back home...thank you and all the best with hubbing:)


Sueswan 4 years ago

Hi Beata,

Beautiful and profound. It gives us much to think about. The pictures are breathtaking.

Voted up and away!

Take care


Beata Stasak profile image

Beata Stasak 4 years ago from Western Australia Author

Thank you, Sueswan, take care as well and hope to hear from you again:)


ChrisIndellicati profile image

ChrisIndellicati 4 years ago from New York, NY

Wow so enthralling. This really was worth the read!


Beata Stasak profile image

Beata Stasak 4 years ago from Western Australia Author

Happy you liked it, Chris, all the best with hubbing and looking forward to hear from you again:)


pooilum profile image

pooilum 4 years ago from Malaysia

woah.. this is good


Beata Stasak profile image

Beata Stasak 4 years ago from Western Australia Author

Happy you liked it...welcome to my page...my new follower and hopefully I will hear from you again:)


Senoritaa profile image

Senoritaa 4 years ago

Thoroughly captivating piece of work. You tell these stories really well!


Beata Stasak profile image

Beata Stasak 4 years ago from Western Australia Author

Thank you Senoritaa for your kind comment...come back to hear more stories:)


KatrineDalMonte 4 years ago

Hi Beata, beautiful, interesting and inspiring! Leaves me with lots to think of... Accompanied by amazing photos. Best wishes :-)


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Beata Stasak 4 years ago from Western Australia Author

Happy Katrine that my writing inspires you in some way...what else can writer ask for...have a great day my fellow hubber and come back again:)


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challks 4 years ago from USA

I found your hub very emotionally moving - It makes a person think about what it means to live

thanks for sharing this


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Beata Stasak 4 years ago from Western Australia Author

Thanks for reading this...'thoughts on a paper' make sense, only, when someone reads them, connect with them and respond:) All the best with your hubbing and have a great weekend:)


Cash 21 months ago

Shoot, so that's that one suosppes.


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Beata Stasak 21 months ago from Western Australia Author

What do you mean Cash?

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