The bagh naka (Marathi: वाघनख / वाघनख्या, Hindi: बाघ नख, Urdu: باگھ نکھ) is a claw-like weapon from India designed to fit over the knuckles or be concealed under and against the palm. It consists of four or five curved blades affixed to a crossbar or glove, and is designed to slash through skin and muscle. It is believed to have been inspired by the armature of big cats, and the term bagh naka itself means tiger’s claw in Hindi.
Growing up, my mom and her siblings would make banana bread every week.
Literally every week since the first one of them learned how to make it, they started making banana bread- lo and behold though, they liked it with walnuts and they all knew their dad hated walnuts.
So they made a special loaf of banana bread just for him every week, just for him to eat. Nobody else was allowed to eat it because that was his banana bread, baked especially for him.
So anyways, they did this once a week from middle school up until every last one of them moved out of the house (and considering there was at least 10 years difference from the oldest to the youngest, this was quite some time). So that’s like… 16 years of weekly banana bread. And he always finished it. He, without fail, ate the whole loaf of bread by himself.
That’s approximately 835 loaves of banana bread.
Now
Skip ahead a few years…
and they’re all visiting and baking banana bread and they start making a dad’s bread and their mom comes in, “I don’t think he can handle eating one more slice of banana bread!”
“What are you talking about? He loves banana bread! He had it all the time!”
This is when my grandma, their mom, broke the news that my grandfather loathed banana bread with every fiber of his being. He just adored that his kids loved him enough to make him a special loaf of banana bread every week (and he didn’t have the heart to tell them that he couldn’t stand banana bread) and he was incredibly, utterly upset that my grandma told the kids his big secret.
My grandfather was a loving, patient, gentle man who absolutely hated banana bread but loved his kids so much more and I just wanted to share that with you guys. I think this story is just about the perfect example of the kind of person he was.
I just told my mom this had 1000 notes on it and let me tell you what
the idea of an LI having to fight their possessed Inquisitor really appeals to me. the two of them, one-on-one.
Dorian throwing up magical barriers as he tries to buy himself some time, praying his mana holds out with each of the Inquisitor’s strikes. He’s done enough running and losing. He’s been taught to put his needs, his survival above all others as a magister – it’s his right. But he will not. Surviving past this is not an option if it means taking the Inquisitor down. He will not turn his magic on the man he loves.
Cassandra standing fast behind her shield, sword still tucked in its sheath. She deflects each of the Inquisitor’s blows as she tries to get through to him; there’s got to be a way to reason with him. It’s shouting and running and “I will not do this” spoken several times. She brought her blade to his throat once, long ago. She will not do it again.
Iron Bull takes a few of the non-lethal hits rather than dodge every strike: he’s covered in scars already, what are a few more? It’s a small price to pay to keep his Inquisitor with him. He calls their name and grabs their arms, holding them above their head. “It’s me,” he calls, “you know me!” But there’s no recognition in their glowing green eyes.
Sera is quick on her feet and avoids the Inquisitor’s every attempt to injure, caught in a deadly dance. She’s as angry as she is scared, and even with all her tricks nothing seems to work. This isn’t a game. She runs at the Inquisitor and tries her best to get her arms around her, consequences be damned. "It’s just me, ya daft –— love, it’s me!“
Solas using his staff to parry and throwing up barriers when he needs to catch his breath. All those years alone, to then find the Inquisitor and all their time together, only to have it end like this. ”No,“ he tells himself. He will not use his magic – the same magic that helped him survive all those years, the magic that helped him learn so much that had been forgotten – against his Inquisitor.
Blackwall parries with his blade, using his strength and size to stay one step ahead. He’s biding his time as he slowly exhausts his list of ways to break through the possession, one by one. He calls the Inquisitor’s name, reminds her of his own several times, aggressively trying to reason with her until his voice cracks. Grey Wardens are supposed to be heroes – so why can’t he help the woman he loves? What does that make him?
Cullen has seen plenty in his years as a Templar, has faced possessed mages and abominations of all sorts, but seeing the Inquisitor in such a state numbs his hands. He never reaches for his sword. He only dodges and ducks, bumping into the furniture in his tower as he desperately tries to get through, calling their name over and over, desperate, begging.
Josephine is cornered in her study, but she’s far from helpless. She uses the furniture as makeshift shields as she talks to the Inquisitor, trying her best to maintain a calm voice. If only she can get through to them, have something in their mind come back to her so the rest can follow. But when she looks at those glowing green eyes she feels her blood chill, and she desperately misses the eyes that used to look at her with such kindness.
STROKE: Remember The 1st Three Letters… S.T..R … My friend sent this to me and encouraged me to post it and spread the word. I agree. If everyone can remember something this simple, we could save some folks.
STROKE IDENTIFICATION: During a party, a friend stumbled and took a little fall - she assured everyone that she was fine and just tripped over a brick because of her new shoes. (they offered to call ambulance)
They got her cleaned up and got her a new plate of food - while she appeared a bit shaken up, Ingrid went about enjoying herself the rest of the evening. Ingrid’s husband called later telling everyone that his wife had been taken to the hospital - (at 6:00pm , Ingrid passed away.) She had suffered a stroke at the party . Had they known how to identify the signs of a stroke, perhaps Ingrid would be with us today.
Some don’t die. They end up in a helpless, hopeless condition instead. It only takes a minute to read this…
STROKE IDENTIFICATION:
A neurologist says that if he can get to a stroke victim within 3 hours he can totally reverse the effects of a stroke…totally. He said the trick was getting a stroke recognized, diagnosed, and then getting the patient medically cared for within 3 hours, which is tough.
RECOGNIZING A STROKE
Remember the ‘3’ steps, STR . Read and Learn! Sometimes symptoms of a stroke are difficult to identify. Unfortunately, the lack of awareness spells disaster. The stroke victim may suffer severe brain damage when people nearby fail to recognize the symptoms of a stroke. Now doctors say a bystander can recognize a stroke by asking three simple questions :
S * Ask the individual to SMILE .. T * = TALK. Ask the person to SPEAK A SIMPLE SENTENCE (Coherently) (eg ‘It is sunny out today’). R * Ask him or her to RAISE BOTH ARMS .
If he or she has trouble with ANY ONE of these tasks, call the ambulance and describe the symptoms to the dispatcher.
NOTE : Another ‘sign’ of a stroke is 1. Ask the person to ‘stick’ out their tongue. 2. If the tongue is ‘crooked’, if it goes to one side or the other that is also an indication of a stroke.
A prominent cardiologist says if everyone who gets this e-mail sends it to 10 people; you can bet that at least one life will be saved.
And it could be your own.
First reblog post that actually saves a life.
This is a life-saving post.
the more you know
yeah don’t think that this can’t happen to you or someone you know if they’re young. my cousin’s wife is 33 and she had a stroke last year
I’ve had a stroke. It happens to people, and the more you know about this kind of stuff, the better.Because it could be important to know.
LIVE SAVING. WOOOAHH. REBLOG REBLOG REBLOG REBLOG REBLOG
Had a family member almost die of one, so signal boosting because you never know when you could save a life.
While taking my first aid courses we were taught something similar. It was F.A.S.T. F for face- one side should droop a bit A for arms- raise your arms and look for them being uneven S for speech - ask them to say a simple sentence T for time - you record the time it happened because it could be vital for doctors to know. It’s basically the same just in a different way to remember if the first method didn’t stick.
Do not stay in a retail store or restaurant past closing time. I mean unless you’re just finishing up paying and it’s like 5 mins after. It’s rude. I know the people who work there say, “oh no it’s ok”. They’re lying. It’s not ok they just have to say that.
