Essay from Gulizebo Matniyozova Adilbek

SELF-IMPROVEMENT – THE KEY TO SUCCESS

Student of Urgench Ranch University of Technologies, Faculty of English Philology

The greatest victory in life is not over others – it is the victory over yourself. Every person holds within them limitless potential and hidden strength. Yet, this power can only be awakened through one decision — the decision to work on yourself. No one can change you better than you can.

We live in a rapidly changing world. Those who stop improving are left behind. Success is never an accident — it is built through patience, discipline, and endless hard work. Change begins within. Many people dream of changing their lives, but only a few have the courage to start by changing themselves. Real transformation begins within the mind. Once you change your thoughts, you change your destiny.

Success is not about being perfect. It is about being a little better than you were yesterday. Every small step forward is a part of a bigger victory. My family – my source of strength. My family is the biggest source of inspiration in my life. We are a large family of twelve — my parents, five sons, and five daughters. I am the fifth child, followed by five younger brothers.

My parents have devoted their lives to us. They sacrificed their own comfort so that we could study, learn, and grow. Their love, patience, and belief in us are the foundation of who I am today. Every success I achieve is a way of honoring their sacrifices. My parents have taught me an important lesson: “Never give up, work hard, and fight for your dreams.”

Who am I? I am Gulizebo Matniyozova Adilbek qizi, born on June 22, 2006, in Khiva city, Ichan Qala, Pahlavon Mahmud Street, Uzbekistan. I am currently a first-year student of English Philology at Urgench Ranch University of Technologies. Since childhood, I have been in love with books. Every story I read opened a new world, a new thought, and a new dream. That is why I aspire to become a professional translator, to bring the beauty of Uzbek literature to the world, and to introduce world literature to my people.

Self-improvement – a philosophy of life

Self-improvement is not only about learning; it is about living. It is about growing a little more every day, keeping faith even when it’s hard, and never stopping the pursuit of your dreams. Some people wait for opportunities. Others create them. I choose to create mine — with courage, persistence, and hope.

Conclusion

Self-improvement is not only the key to success — it is the essence of a meaningful life. Those who master themselves can master their destiny. I believe that every young person who works hard on self-development will one day shine as a bright star of the future.

And I, too, am walking that path — learning, dreaming, and striving — because I know a simple truth:✨ Those who work hard never lose.

Matniyozova Gulizebo was born on June 22, 2006, in Khiva city, Uzbekistan. She lives in Ichan Qala, Pahlavon Mahmud Street, house number 92. She is a first-year student at Urgench Branch of the Tashkent University of Information Technologies, majoring in English Philology. Gulizebo is hardworking and ambitious. Her dream is to become a professional English teacher and translator in the future.

Poetry from Eleanor Hill

the counter claws at the brims of my ankles

rupturing the soles of my feet, ebbing at my toes

almost there, i push my feet further into the shoe

shatters like ice, a menacing web of starburst, gasp

my foot plummets to the floor as the heel splinters

and a gelatinous liquid oozes from crimson gashes

dripping onto the fractures of the shoe like teardrops

ichor spreads, sliding over the cracked web of glass

staring at the jagged remains of a shoe, in cold

the spot light shuts, and the curtains abruptly fall

leaving me in the dark with my mercyless thoughts

only one word slips from my fragmented lips, “why?”

tracing my round fingers over the feet i had cut, too fit

into the shoes that were supposedly fit for me,

Poetry from Sobirjonova Rayhona


Photo shows a young Central Asian woman with straight dark hair in a bun, a white collared shirt and black coat.

To My Beloved Teacher

(Dedicated to my teacher, Rajabova Sadoqat)

This world is but a fleeting dream,

A moment’s spark, a passing gleam.

Yet in this life so swift, so small,

You shine — a blessing to us all.

You brought the light where shadows lay,

You lit our minds, you shaped our way.

O dearest teacher, gentle, wise,

May peace forever fill your skies.

You gave us more than words could say,

Your time, your care, your heart each day.

You left your home, your rest, your part —

To warm the world with your pure heart.

Your every word — a golden tone,

Your every glance — compassion shown.

Among all teachers, you stand apart,

With prayer and love in every heart.

No poet’s pen could quite define

The grace that in your eyes does shine.

Each day we feel your tender art —

Your kindness lives in every heart.

At your soft call, we run, we race,

To see your smile, your gentle face.

In every class, your spirit’s near,

Our hearts rejoice — we feel you here.

May God preserve your days and years,

Protect your path, erase your fears.

May joy and health forever stay,

And blessings light your every day.

A thousand thanks I raise to you,

For all you gave, for all you do.

May Heaven guard, with mercy deep,

The soul whose love we’ll always keep.

Rayhona Sobirjonova💞Sadoqat Rajabova

Sobirjonova Rayhona, a 11th-grade student of the 8th general secondary school in Vobkent district, Bukhara region. She was born in December 2008 in the village of Cho’rikalon, Vobkent district, in a family of intellectuals. Her parents supported her from a young age.  She started writing in the 3rd grade. Her first creative poem was published in the newspaper “Vobkent Hayot”. She has also published extensively in Synchronized Chaos Magazine, India’s Namaste India Magazine, Gulkhan Magazine, Germany’s RavenCage Magazine and many other magazines and newspapers.  She has actively participated in many competitions, won high places and won many prizes, and she is still busy creating.

Poetry from Patrick Sweeney

everything the egg might mean to Grace

in her one-room apartment

when they tell you what should be the least

of your worries

hand covering his birthmark

she sees my father in me

the summer my hippie sister

made the Blessed Mother cry

he tells me the real reason

he joined the bomb squad

what are you going to do

when they find out you can’t read

it’s the ‘elytra’  the lady bug

is struggling to sort

 Bashō’s feet hurt, too

they smoked a half-pack of Pall Malls before breakfast,

the radio blaring…

the lavender eyes of the sea glass collector

at 90 mph

Mayor Dan starved to death in that front room

on the lower end of Clifton…

I used to ride by on my bike

if you get near the Arno

you know what to do

Poetry from Aisha MLabo

HUNGRY FIRE  

Here is a debutante 

Burning on a hungry fire

That is sparkling and searing 

Chewing the nerves in her chest 

Gulping the blood in her spleen 

Though not satiated 

The fire is hissing like the sound a snake might make

Symbol of hungriness written on the wall of her hub

Designed by blue flames 

She feels the hungry fire burning and burning 

The fire to flow like water that flows in the ocean 

The fire to glow like a candle that glows in the dark 

The fire to sparkle like freshly fallen snow that sparkles in winter 

This fire is felt not seen 

I feel hungry fire burning in me too.

Aisha MLabo writes from Katsina, Nigeria and is a Law student of Umaru Musa Yar’adua University Katsina, Nigeria.

Essay from Z.I. Mahmud

Young South Asian man with short dark hair, reading glasses, a black coat, white shirt, and tie.

Pouring the Isle of “You smile all the time” in Titanic Chugged Cruiser: ‘The Way We Were’—-A Decanter of Obituaryfest Through Filmic Literature


Z I Mahmud, Alma Mater, English Department, University of Delhi, India


Silver screen mountain lion of Utah—Robert Redford and lioness glamour girl—Barbra Streisand manifest character arcs within claustrophobic debonair … As Rooseveltian romantic lovers, the chameleon couple is exposed to being infested and pestered through an ensemble of aural-visual on-screen framework enculturated within psychodrama ; thus marooned within the shipwreck of unamnesiac anathema. Sydney Pollack embodies francophone aboriginality and diasporic expatriate postnationalist postcoloniality Bunyanesquing— [Bunyanesquing is a neologism, insomuch and inasmuch of psychologizing and sexualizing filmic repertoire and that is this line of argument can be phrased as projections of extended personalities from curatorial directorship perspectivity] a laurel wreathed in romantic tenor filmic production. Erens, Patricia, and Sydney Pollack. “SYDNEY POLLACK: THE WAY WEARE.” Film Comment 11, no. 5
(1975): 24–29.


Katie Morosky puts forth the rhetoric of Rooseveltistic welfarism and unionization —raking over the coals anti-Cold War tensions and anti-McCarthyism in controversial conversation with fellow travelers and socialist compatriots of the motion picture industry.
Without cineversing hat on a hat, Barbra Streisand roasts arguments to watch their melting faces drip off their worthless faces as explained in the article by Matelski, Marilyn J. “‘The Way We Were. . .’ and Wish We Weren’t: A Hollywood Memoir of Blacklisting in America.” Studies in Popular Culture 24, no. 2 (2001): 79–98. Herein the interpolation of Rooseveltistic sympathizer cast Streisand in highlights of liberalistic Americanism.


Her husband is dead! Dead!!! Yes, Mrs. Roosevelt went down into the mines. And when they asked her why, she said, “I am my husband’s legs.” Did you tell the crippled jokes, too? Is there anything that isn’t a joke to you people?”

Young middle aged white man embracing a white woman in a flowered blouse.


Hubbell and Morosky star studded casts pacifist egalitarianism transition toward flashforwards of retrospective grain of salt : ‘but making a blessed buck’ and ‘PEOPLE—are more important than any goddamn witch-hunt’.


Crystalline Jewishness of Katie Morosky [Barbra Streisand] surmountingly triumphs with conquest of a bagel of appreciation. Because of her creditworthy work ethics, passion, intelligence and marvel —- heartmelting observance of Jewish American lady persona in Hubbell Gardner [Robert Redford] backstage is fruitified in PICKETTE, SAMANTHA. “‘When You’re a Funny Girl’: Confirming and Complicating Accepted Cultural Images of Jewish Femininity in the Films of Barbra Streisand.” In Jews and Gender, edited by Leonard J. Greenspoon, 245–70. Purdue University Press, 2021. Both masculinization and feminization are characteristic traits of wave of womanist revolutionary blueprint of Jewishness and Samantha Pickette situates Streisand framework consolidating ‘feminine’ and ‘masculine’ to undermine ideals of a hierarchical society governed by hegemonic gendered expectations.

However, commie to saddie stock caricature imperils this governance of femininity. For the sake of argumentative emphasis, castration threat faced by the heroine is an unheimlich torrent in the vein of imaginary eugenics agrophobia—- superimposed upon the hero’s egomaniacal masculinity and psychic virility.
‘You and me. Not causes. Not principles’—-depoliticizes her political partisanship and disenfranchises female empowerment. After all, undertones and undercurrents of power struggles derelict the relationship between the couple with Katie’s clash of counterback, “Hubbell, people are their principles.” For Hubbell Katie’s reformer sage-like personality for thriving and striving the way of the world is a utopian idealism. Despite platonic romance Hubbell-Katie is a doomed pair—- stranded in dysfunctional marriage—– recoils into a shuddered wedding. If Katie doesn’t sell her soul for the sake of the American dream as extrapolated from the literary critic Letty
Cottin Pogrebin’s point of view, then I wish to argue what Samantha Pickette’s illustrative scholarship eschews. Hubbell Americanizes Judaism to the hinges and fringes of Christianity for the sake of the American Dream by permutation of plot twist and storyline. The transposition of a divorce petition springs forth within the cellar of the fourth wall.

Middle aged white man and woman, dressed up in a suit and coat and a dress, and coat, seated on a couch in a room with a few other people.


Wasn’t Samantha Pickette walking on egg shells with confession in the performative gender of bolstering feminine body polity that after all she shrugs off her standpoint in the teleological ontology tracing Barbra Streisand’s happy endings— as transgressive nature of
feisty womanist Jewishness betide through poetic justice in the consequential aftermath of breaking off ritualization of interreligious institution.

Later the erudite scholarly critic nails the coffin in Katie Morosky’s everywoman struggles for restoration of family building by sheltering in the refuge of lyrical poetic fairy tale tradition of angel of the hearth. Dissolution of marriage coincided since salt of the earth Hubbell wanted care-free reliable family reconciliation within screen writing career; however Hubbell’s angel of the hearth was always waiting for the next shoe to drop in this mores of the nuclear disarmament campaign. In a nutshell, nostalgic glorification behind succumbment of the rack and ruin pair is likewise opening a can of worms amongst star-crossed and unrequited lovers.


The Way We Were transcendentally nostalgizes as symbolic epitome —in the heartfelt memoiristic reminiscences of Barbra Streisand for being cultural lightning in a bottled remembrance—memorial services of star-studded goodbye Hollywood has seen in decades. We are talking about a man who didn’t just act. He discovered talents. He nurtured careers. He changed the entire landscape of independent filmmaking. After all, as much as you can and as long as you can, philosophy floods with the memorabilia chemistry of this on-screen
couple—outlasting impressions of idolization of the entertainment industry alongside film studies and film criticism. ‘The double helix of the star wattage heyday lionizes tussled blonde locks, granite jaw and million dollar smiles’ as star cast reviewed by Robert Redford’s Funeral, Barbara Streisand’s TRIBUTE Is STUNNING!

Middle aged man and woman in a bed together.

Robert Redford elevated the powerhouse actress like Streisand through the enduring magical caprice of the popcorn classic The Way We Were. ‘That film, that performance, that chemistry between Redford and Streisand, it captured something eternal about love and loss, and the way time changes everything … As Barbra Streisand takes her leather gloved hand and pushes her summer boy Sandie blonde hair from Robert Redford’s forehead and he clasps her
wrist gently pulling her into a final embrace. An inevitable farewell, the audience sobbed.’


Redford resurrects in her epitaphic memorial as the times she remembered the fun they had commenting upon the Oprah Winfrey interviewing him, “I remember liking her energy and her spirit. It was wonderful to play off of. I also really enjoyed kidding her. She was fun to kid.”


From touching every corner of the entertainment industry, the actors he worked with, the directors he discovered and causes he championed…devotion to conservation, life, vision and
lasting contribution to Utah…feelings he inspired, dreams he encourages, independent voices he amplified through Sundance, lives he touched, careers he launched, the storytelling craft…loyalty, trustworthiness, principles, looks, commitment to excellence… and so on and so forth. Streisand’s onscreen heroization of Redford shall outlive real marriages through the relationship strands between Katie-Hubbell pair—-beauty with substance and stardom with
purpose helming the filmworld—-recognizing his worth, celebrating his talent, maintaining the everlasting bond throughout decades.

Middle aged man in a brown coat talking with a woman in a brown coat with dark curly hair.


Photography Acknowledgement
THE WAY WE WERE Starring Barbra Streisand & Robert Redford. October 16, 1973. Picture, taken on set during the filming in 1972. Eoghan. Barbra Streisand Fan’s World Page
Robert Redford and Barbra Streisand, who starred together in 1973’s ‘The Way We Were’.


💜Smooth Radio
Robert Redford In ‘The Way We Were’
Barbara Streisand and Robert Redford sit smiling looking forward in a scene from the film ‘The Way We Were’, 1973. (Photo by Columbia Pictures/Getty Images)


Streisand & Redford In ‘The Way We Were’
View of American actors Barbra Streisand and Robert Redford as they lie in bed in a scene from the film ‘The Way We Were’ (directed by Sydney Pollack), Los Angeles, California, 1972. (Photo
by Steve Schapiro/Corbis via Getty Images)


Redford & Streisand In ‘The Way We Were’
View of American actors Robert Redford and Barbra Streisand as they face one another in a scene from the film ‘The Way We Were’ (directed by Sydney Pollack), Los Angeles, California, (Photo by Steve Schapiro/Corbis via Getty Images) 1972.

Z. I. Mahmud [email: zimahmud_anan@yahoo.com] is a Bangladeshi scholar, creative writer, and B.A. (Honours) alumnus in English from Satyawati College, University of Delhi. He has recently submitted an essay for the Keats Shelley Memorial Prize titled, The Utopian Enlightenment of Romantic Sublime Dissolves Into Dystopian Apocalypse Within Mary Shelley’s Last Man. His research and creative work explore literature’s intersections with history, imagination, and cultural reception. Mahmud’s abstract, Dungeon-Castle and Demonic Downfall: Traumatizing Horroresque Gothicization of the Medievalist Halloween, has been selected for panel presentation at the virtual conference Confound the Time: Reception in Medieval & Early Modern Studies, 24–25 January 2026.