Goal Line Technology in Football

Goal-line technology is a method used to determine when the ball has slightly crossed the goal line with the assistance of electronic devices and at the same time assisting the referee in awarding a goal or not. The objective of goal-line technology (GLT) is not to replace the role of the officials, but rather to support them in their decision-making. The GLT must provide a clear indication as to whether the ball has fully crossed the line, and this information will serve to assist the referee in making his final decision.[2] In the wake of controversial calls made in the Premier League, 2010 World Cup and the Euro 2012, FIFA (previously against the technology) tested potential candidates for goal-line technology. Nine systems were initially tested, but only two remain.

On 5 July 2012, the International Football Association Board (IFAB) officially approved the use of goal line technology.

Mohsin Hamid, changing Pakistan's Image

Written By: Ahsen Malik

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In a time when Pakistan’s image is associated with illiteracy, poverty and terrorism, one cannot thank enough for writers like Mohsin Hamid. There is no doubt that he has changed the image of Pakistan and has given it new dimensions for Western readers. All of his three books are set in Lahore and completely shock the Western reader when he learns that Pakistan too is not so different. (Even though being a third world country.)

‘Places do things to you’, he writes in an essay for New York Times. Places really influence what and how you write. And Hamid, being a Lahori cherishes this idea. Lahore is one of those busy and culturally rich cities whose branches are drenched in royal grandeur. The citizens beside the dying Ravi river are as diverse as human nature; cunning, smart, lazy, content and agitated. They are known for their non-stop talking habits too. And we see a Lahori character talking non-stop for 184 pages in his novel The Reluctant Fundamentalist. It is no doubt a fine collection to the books written about the 9/11 tragedy. Hamid doesn’t try to explain how much of a controversy it has been neither does he allows the reader to perceive anything.

He writes in a second person narrative, constantly addressing the reader, hinting how to read and manipulate the novel. His tone is spot on and you never really know that is there any real danger lurking or it’s just the masterfully controlled irony and suspense… Hamid tackles the Pakistani social issues in his other novel Moth Smoke.

He tracks the transition of feudalism based on birth to the feudalism based on wealth. He also discusses personal struggles and volition. He takes on a search to find the portrait of the young contemporary people of Pakistan and somehow puts his suggestions for the trail. The other amusing elements like drama, romance and suspense are still there making the book a complete treat. Moth Smoke won a Betty Trask Award, was a finalist for the PEN/Hemingway Award, was shortlisted for the Commonwealth Writers Prize for Best First Book, and was named a New York Times Notable Book of the Year. If you really want to see a writer in all his might with one heck of a story to tell than you should check Hamid’s third book. Written in a style of a self-help book, How to Get Filthy Rich in Rising Asia is a story about a boy who want to make immense wealth. The book sometimes reminds you of the creator of The Great Gatsby, Mr. F. Scott Fitzgerald.

It starts off parodying a business self-help book and becomes a story of powerful reverie on life in a time of soul-shaking change. We encounter the political, social and religious transition of Pakistan and the class and gender inequalities. The novel ends with one of the most powerful and moving sentence I have ever come across (and I have come across a hell lot of sentences, trust me) and it will move you too and be with you for ages to come

See, the thing is that literature is something that has been overlooked in Pakistan for a while now. But sincere efforts like the city-specific annual literature festivals and writers like Mohsin Hamid are the beacons for the Pakistani literary scene.

The Numbness

Written By: Maham Shahbaz

`When he was little he thought that people only died when they were no longer wanted or no longer loved and cared for. He was so sure that he would too. There was something about that though, mother lost in all her day job and then night job and father who would come back at night after all day at work. Friends were not friends.

Years after that he gained intelligence and maturity but that theory was still in the back of his mind, always haunting him. He had a job, he had money, he had relations and he had love but there was something missing…a big void he never seemed to fill. What was it? He could never find out.

There were days when he wouldn’t even feel, he forced emotions like anger and happiness. Inside he was all numb.  some say that it is better than hurting all over but that’s not true, you see life is misery, happiness, solitude, companionship, mixture of everything and every feeling but the feeling of content. 

The Tangled Web.

I believe in superstition. I believe friendships are sacred. I believe that if you make a promise and don't fulfill it you'll be cursed. I believe resisting the bad is the biggest addiction. I believe talking about good can turn it into bad and that bad can never be good. I believe that talking behind someone's back means you're letting yourself down. I believe black is the biggest turn on. I believe the best revenge is to stay quiet. I believe talking about sad things makes you vulnerable. I believe in telling after traveling.  I believe if you hurt someone you'll get hurt in return. I believe words are seductive. I believe that everyone should be judged by the good in them not by the bad in them. I believe doing is better than not doing, saying is better than not saying and feeling is better than not feeling. I believe that dreams always come true and oh, I believe in magic.

The Man who Quit Money

Daniel Suelo lives in a cave. Unlike the average American—wallowing in credit-card debt, clinging to a mortgage, terrified of the next downsizing at the office—he isn't worried about the economic crisis. That's because he figured out that the best way to stay solvent is to never be solvent in the first place. Nine years ago, in the autumn of 2000, Suelo decided to stop using money. He just quit it, like a bad drug habit.

His dwelling, hidden high in a canyon lined with waterfalls, is an hour by foot from the desert town of Moab, Utah, where people who know him are of two minds: He's either a latter-day prophet or an irredeemable hobo. Suelo's blog, which he maintains free at the Moab Public Library, suggests that he's both. "When I lived with money, I was always lacking," he writes. "Money represents lack. Money represents things in the past (debt) and things in the future (credit), but money never represents what is present."

The Wager

Written By: Hafsa Sheikh

When I said I wouldn't talk to you again for as I long as I lived

I gave in after a day

but you, 

you could keep it up for three months and you did

you really did

you made me realize my silence doesn't mean anything to you

because what am I but a burden to you?

What am I but a waste of space hoarding your home with my existence?

what am I but a useless extension of you?

thank you for giving me your blood, I let it out every night to get you out of my veins

I fail, of course, because i am made of you 

(not because I'm incompetent)

I'm glad sleep comes easy to you after you tell me my death would be a source of relief to you

but why wouldn't it? this is routine for us after all -

you telling me the 'truth' about myself yet embracing the lies about yourself

a good morning in our house is when you wake up late and I've already left

and a good night is when- i wouldn't know;you lock me out if I come home after 10:00

remember that night in December last year?

you locked me out in the cold and I got pneumonia?

and you told the doctor it was because i was walking on thin ice? (I was, in a way)

what a beautiful way to start a new year

what a beautiful way to raise a child

I still have scars on my wrists but that's on me, I don't blame you

but the scars on my mind, that's all on you

and I hope when you hear of my death, you forget what I was to you

(I'll obviously die before you do)

but don't worry, I won't waste my time haunting you.

Tangled in the Web of Feelings

Written By: Maham Shahbaz

Warmth such as that of a mothers embrace and security that a father’s presence brings. But do you think it’s because of the gestures? No…it’s because of the strong love we feel for them and we believe that they would do anything. They might as well do anything because they have strong love for their children.

Why? Why do we get tangled in a web of feelings? Isn’t it stupid how you cry one minute and the other everything is just fine? Well played god! Well played! You keep us busy in these feelings that seem so real. Oh but what is real? Don’t you understand that we cannot be happy forever, there is no such thing. We cannot be sad forever, it’s not possible. We cannot have any consistent feeling, not love and not hatred. These feelings they will break you and they will mend you.

When was the last good Cricket World Cup?

Written By: Jonathan Wilson

The fault is probably mine. When you work in a sport, the tendency, perhaps, is to assume everybody is as wrapped up in it as you are; to believe your obsessive knowledge of the subject is normal. I think the football World Cup is too big and too bloated, that it would benefit from being scaled back with a more stringent qualification process, but I still watched every game it was possible to watch, made my notes and drew my conclusions. The cricket World Cup was rather different, and perhaps it's because of that it came as such a surprise to see it being so widely hailed as an overwhelming success.

The first I saw of the World Cup was Martin Guptill and Brendon McCullum laying into Nuwan Kulasekara and Lasith Malinga. It was 3am in Mumbai and I was struggling to adapt to the time difference. I was then struggling on a treadmill in the hotel gym as Steven Finn took the most pointless hat-trick in history against Australia. That was some Valentine's Day. I watched India v Pakistan on a big screen at a wedding where the lone Pakistani guest was mercilessly patronised.

The Moneyless Man

As told by: Mark Boyle.

If someone told me seven years ago, in my final year of a business and economics degree, that I'd now be living without money, I'd have probably choked on my microwaved ready meal. The plan back then was to get a 'good' job, make as much money as possible, and buy the stuff that would show society I was successful.

For a while I did it - I had a fantastic job managing a big organic food company; had myself a yacht on the harbour. If it hadn't been for the chance purchase of a video called Gandhi, I'd still be doing it today. Instead, for the last fifteen months, I haven't spent or received a single penny. Zilch.

Falling for You

Written By: Rosheen Aftab

I had always been a sucker for mystery.

Dark mystery, which draws you in as soon as you read the first page of the novel and you're so curious about what happens next, you feel like skipping the next few pages but that would actually mean missing out on the fun. So you don't do it but there's a hastened lava of feelings erupting inside you with every line, every word.

He was just like that novel. He was full of fun, tragedy, happiness and hatred, all at the same time. He could paint the sky blue and yet give a tornado warning, at the same moment. He was this unique version of a human being that annoys the heck out of you but makes you love him that instant.

It was exhilarating. Painful. Amazing.

The first time we met, I could sense the dominating vibes all over the room, emanating from the guy in the black suit with golden brown eyes. We hadn't really talked but I had felt an evil self of him. Like the innocent guy in the horror movie who is loved by all but turns out to be the real murderer.

Destruction.

The first word that comes to my mind, now that I think of him, is destruction. He was a storm, an F-6 tornado possessing winds blowing with the speed of light. He could attract the strongest thing to himself, twirl it inside and smash it to pieces without actually touching it.

I am not sure what I would do if I could go back in time and possibly change all that. Would I even want to do that? I ask myself this question so often, I'm not even sure if he's real or not now. Maybe he's just a figment of my imagination because he's too beautiful and just as cruel to be true.

In the deepest core of my heart, I know I wouldn't change it if I could, a million times. Because no matter how much you hate the ending of a story, you would never trade having read all of those words and felt the radioactive emotions for the beauty of oblivion.

Oblivion is beautiful. Just not as much as him.

Ancient Greece

Greece as we all know was one of the biggest and prosperous nation. 

Geography of Ancient Greece.
The territory of Greece is mountainous, and as a result, ancient Greece consisted of many smaller regions each with its own dialect, cultural peculiarities, and identity. Regionalism and regional conflicts were a prominent feature of ancient Greece. Cities tended to be located in valleys between mountains, or on coastal plains, and dominated a certain area around them. Greece is a country located in Southern Europe, its mainland located at the southern end of the Balkan Peninsula. Greece is surrounded on the north by Bulgaria, the Republic of Macedonia and Albania; to the west by the Ionian Sea; to the south by the Mediterranean Sea and to the east by the Aegean Sea and Turkey.

Timeline of the ancient Greece history.
The ancient Greece is history is divided into following parts.

Neolithic period: The Neolithic Age in Greece lasted from 6800 to 3200 BC. Animal husbandry and pottery was mainly introduced.

Early bronze age: Bronze Age in Greece is from the architecture, burial styles and lifestyle.

Minoan Art: (2000 - 1400 BC )
It is divided into 3 periods
1.      the early Minoan period (c.3000-2200 B.C.),
2.      the Middle Minoan period (c.2200-1500 B.C.)
3.      Late Minoan period (c.1500-1000 B.C.

Mycenaean age: It was an age of cultural development. During this age the basic framework of myths and heroes began.

The Dark Ages (1100 - 750 BC): The fall of myccenean civilization marks this era when the myceneans went under a civil war and the country became weak. A tribe called the dorians took advantage of this and invaded.

Last Few Mugs of Coffee - Part 1

Written By: Maheen Pasha.

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It’s 3 am now. My hands are trembling. It’s the funniest thing really. The perfect metaphor for the control I've lost on my own life.

I take a sip of the black sludge that is in my mug. It’s my fifth cup of coffee since midnight. The brew had smelled like metal and paint and regret. I should have known better. But I needed to be up today.

I don’t think I’ll make it through tonight. I think my time is over. And what a fool I've been. Good God, what a fool I've been. A wasted life. All those years. Guilt. Longing. Regrets, regrets, regrets.

My wife is turning in her bed. She never sleeps with ease. She’s constantly worrying about one thing or the other. I’m grateful for her though. This one regret I’m grateful for.

My daughter is somewhere in Europe. I haven’t been keeping up. Last I heard she was a chef somewhere in Italy. I hope one day she’ll forgive me. I hope one day she’ll stop running away.

My son is dead. I dropped by his grave today, in the afternoon. There’s a little flower to the right of where he’s buried. I like to hope there’s a message there.

Here I am, an old man. Scribbling in my journal about the life I’ve breezed through. I have not lived my life. I have made no decisions that I am proud of. Except maybe one. But for most of my life, I have been an indifferent spectator. I stood in a corner while things happened to the people I loved. I stood in the corner and I did nothing. I just stood.

You can judge me. I judge myself. I assure you that you can not despise me as much as I despise myself. Let me give you reasons too, though. So that when I die, you know it wasn’t a bad thing after all. The world does not need more people like me. The world needs more people like her. But then again, I haven’t told you about her yet either.

So I’ll tell you tonight. I’ll tell you about her. About how I met her and how I lost her. About how I killed my father. About how I disappointed my mother. I’ll tell you the story of how I emotionally distanced myself from my wife after our son died. I’ll tell you the story where my daughter told me that she hated me; I’ll tell you how that was when the hollow in me finally echoed so loud it hurt my ears.

I’ll tell you everything tonight. Right after I get one more cup of coffee. My hands are trembling and I’m shaking from all the crying. I won’t stop before I tell you about her though. I’ll tell you everything tonight. 

Random Acts of Kindness.

Lately, I’ve been noticing a lot of videos going on around the internet of people helping others. But what if I told you there is a way we could help hundreds of people by just doing one random act of kindness? What would be really cool is if you would print it out and when you’re done, you just pass it on to the people that you do the good deeds for or if that's not possible, just name a few things to them so they can carry on the chain. Anyways. Enjoy it!

1. Tell a street performer how amazing he or she is

2. Bring flowers to a nursing home

3. Leave a letter in a library book

4. Leave happy note around town

5. Tell someone why they are special to you

6. Email or write a letter to an old teacher who made a difference in your life

7. Pray for a friend or family member

8. Compliment a stranger

9. Stand up for the underdog

10. Hold a “dog wash” to raise money for a good cause

11. Help someone carry their grocery bags

12. Donate blood

13. Give up your seat on a bus

14. Leave flowers on someone’s car