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Assyrian Dictionary of the Oriental Institute of the University of Chicago, Volume 11, N, Parts 1 & 2 edited by Martha T Roth available only as a 2 part set; Part 1: xxiii + 382p, Part 2: xxi + 357p, (Oriental Institute, 1980)
Of all the departments in the University of Cambridge, the University Library is by far the oldest. The first volume in this set traces its evolution from its hesitant beginnings to its designation as a place of copyright deposit in the legislation of the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries. The second volume takes the history of the Library from the time of the Copyright Act of Queen Anne and the gift by King George I of the celebrated book collection of John Moore, Bishop of Ely, to the end of the nineteenth century when the Library's place within the University and the scholarly world was well established. The text examines how the Library responded to educational reforms, charts the growth of collections and shows how the needs of undergraduates were answered in an international research library. Both volumes were originally published in 1986.
After a long, indeterminate dating, Ahsen wants to marry his university classmate Mehwish. She has no doubt about his love and trusts him completely, but at the same time she is terribly aware of the local fact that due to their unmatchable social background, her family wouldn't give her hand to him and that such a love that has no future will take her nowhere. She wants to live her life only in the way approved by society, no theft, no hidden love, no cheating... Will her Civil Servant father and his potato lord grandfather ever allow them to live in the bliss of their love under one roof? Moving on, they've crossed the barriers of their society, and any retreat now will shatter their lives forever. Lovers... 'I'm not spoiling you. Facts are facts. You are a crystal gemstone. I'm lucky that you're sitting in front of me. Close your eyes. I want to see you.' Her hand still in mine. 'Everything. Complete.' She closed her eyes, prepared for more fun. 'Turn your face to right, Ijust' She pulled her face to the right and with that everything moved to the right. To see her right side. 'Now Left,' She obeyed. 'Now straight' She straightened herself for me. The mid of her foldable trunk erected. As if she was asking me what do you say, how do I look? I adored her bendable, yielding shell which from outside looked deceptively hard, unbend-able. She opened eyes once perhaps to see in my eyes the wonders of her beauty. But on my request she closed them again. It was a play. She knew. A wonderful game. I set her hair in order artfully and shoving them back onto her shoulders cleared her ears, and kissable roundness of her neck. I was trying not to look down at her beautiful, round breasts though a part of me was desiring to take them in the cup of my hands and play with them. I couldn't afford offending her. She was for me an Oasis in the desert. A moonlight in the dark night. She liked only surface plays. 'Wonderful!' I said. 'What?' she asked. 'You Your CURVES.' I said. She hit me tenderly. Her eyes still closed. I wanted her to hit me more. I liked her Tenderly Moving long fingered hands. Then, like some thought, her smile faded and in its place a drowsiness sat on her whole face, making her eyeballs still and in her magic serenity she looked almost asleep like a dove slumbering in June. Is she sleeping? But with me sitting in front of her, watching her - not just watching, worshipping her - how could she sleep? No, she's not sleeping; she is only waiting for my next move, I thought. 'Mehwish, your upturned, long eyelashes evoke ancient dreams, d'you know? I said. 'I know', her lips moved, 'you had once told me at the Punjab University Cafe.' Her face looking like smiling in a dream. 'I'm still sitting there with you. You know what I see when I close my eyes and think about the university days?' 'What?' she asked. 'Your eyes'. Her lips widened her smile, rest of her face and body asleep, a dove dozing. 'Mehwish' I said. 'Yes' she said. 'May I touch them ?' 'What?' 'Your eyelashes.' The room air waited, the horses of my impulses racing on high beats. 'Don't ask me, you've created This MomentIt's your' she said. Her whisper stirred up my insides, and a strange fog filled in the room and I felt as if I were roaming on some Unknown Island, in her dove world, in a dream. Now, she knew where she was going and with whom, and her mind was clear about her destination.
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