Undergraduate / Political Conflict in Bangladesh-Macaulay Honors Admission Essay [3]

Hello everyone! Here is my essay for Macaulay Honors. I have less than 26 hours before I have to submit this, so any help will be extremely appreciated. So much for not procrastinating =(

-Prompt: Discuss some issue of local, national, or international concern and its importance to you.
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3 AM. The clamor drummed in my ears. Jolting awake, I quickly opened the amber window to catch a glimpse. As I pressed against the dirty metal bars, chanting, riotous words and banging of weapons against houses drowned the neighborhood. Bodies diffused through the clustered tin houses and pulled people out of their homes. I was compelled with utter fear. My mother pulled me away from the windows and led me and my siblings to the kitchen room. Shutting the windows and blowing off the candles, she placed us in the closet with the roaches and rats. "Stay here and be quiet." The cautioning words escaped her mouth before she hugged us. The lock clicked in. I felt our cold bodies shake in the dark as I wept quietly.

Bodies lay still on the blasted road, covered in bloody shredded clothes, and camouflaged with the red, green flag of Bangladesh. Flame danced on the flipped buses as local cops dragged bodies into trucks. Hazy smoke covered the sun and the sky. The clash was between supporters of the two political parties. From mere pushing and shoving, it escalated to fist fights and then to knifes and chains. Seeing blood everywhere, bystanders realized it was time to leave the scene. Into its thirtieth minute, a bomb went off sending concrete, asphalt, and people into the air. The rubble settled down, however, my father's terror did not. He hid from the destruction and cautiously watched from a distant balcony.

The once green and proud Bangladesh, it has corroded into a grim and oppressed society due to incessant political conflicts. The two major parties, BNP and Awami League, have been fighting for power and won the national elections back and forth. Just like Watergate, the winning party would attempt to secure its victory for the next election through espionage and conspiracy. Tumultuous, violent rallies would be the opposition's tactics.

In 2003 parliamentary election, the BNP party lost. In retaliation, the supporters rallied out and initiated an assault on all oppositions, justifying that the Awami League staged the election. In the villages it was a night of onslaught, and in the cities there were chaotic battles.

In the small settlement of Doudkandi, the assault reached my neighborhood. After locking me and my siblings in the wooden closet hidden from view, my thin mother darted to pick up her weapon of choice: the Bhagavad Gita. She fell on her knees and prayed. Roaring commands of retreat came in and they fell back; the galvanized Awami League supporters fought back.

Eight days later, a shabby bus plowed its way to a stop. My father got off. Frowzy hair, bags under his eyes, and red bandages on his shoulders made his structured physique look old and frail. Restless and anxious, our whole family rushed to welcome him upon his arrival. My mother kissed him. A jolt of pulse radiated through my heart being together with my family once again. I wondered how long it would last. At that instant moment, my thoughts were interrupted by a thundering blast.

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509 Words.

-Does the last sentence make sense? If you think not, then should I keep it or just delete it all together?
-PLEASE HELP!!! VERY LITTLE TIME BEFORE DEADLINE!!!
-Thank you all for all the help, seriously.
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Undergraduate / Religion and ethical dilemma in Macaulay Honors Essay [5]

HI. Here is another one of my ghastly essays (yes, I have written multiple in the hope that I will strike gold with at least one of them but so far, not luck).

Prompt:
- Evaluate a significant experience, achievement, risk you have taken, or ethical dilemma you have faced and its impact on you.

The old man was still waiting outside. It struck me with surprise that he had been waiting on the platform for almost five hours on a scorching humid August day. He was well in his late 50s, wearing work attire and stricken with wrinkles and spots. But there was an uncanny look of guilt and pride in his face. Or maybe it was the sunlight playing tricks on his sweaty Caucasian face. I approached him slowly. Lacking anything to say, I picked up a blue pamphlet from the bunch that lay around his feet, and he said to me, "So, are you ready to be saved?"

It was an early Saturday mid afternoon when I entered the New York City subway station few blocks away from my families' one bedroom apartment. As I walked up the black stairs and past a dirty map of the neighborhood, I saw the old man lying down a cloth and putting pamphlets on it. My concentration landed upon him for just mere seconds. The loud Manhattan-Bound train arrived in a few minutes. I left for my destination.

"Umm, it is all right," I said half-heartedly. He smiled, a smile consisting of yellow teeth, pictured into a wrinkly sweaty face against the rough exterior of his forehead; it was stunning even against all the odds. I said, "I saw you standing here almost five hours ago." "Yes, I have been standing here and spreading the words of Jesus."

My whole life I have seen people put a lot of emphasize on their religions. My parents, for example, follow the strict laws and axioms of Hinduism and they have taught my siblings and me to follow them also. I had blindly walked this path, without ever really comprehending why I should or what it means to me. I did not even agree with the teachings of Hinduism and nor did I hold my own beliefs. As a friend once told me, I lacked the "intuitive sense of spiritual principles or beliefs". At fifteen years of age, I did not feel the need to understand what defines my spiritual beliefs. However, after the stumble with the old man at the subway station, I had a sudden urge to find my core, to find my divine truth, to find my path. I do not know why this mundane event had this effect on me, but it did. As maudlin as it sounds, it was an epiphany.

I lived life with a new purpose; I was a clean plate and had lot of entrees to pick from. Questioning peoples' behaviors and actions became my second nature; understanding those with a solid foundation on a spiritual or religious path might help me realize mine. Shams, a very close friend of mine with an articulate and strong ideological faith in Islam, had helped through this process. Deliberate disagreement in religious and spiritual conversations between us led to understand his views, even if I did not agree with them. Every comment and every statement added more to my plate.

School, home, and questions: the basic routine of my day. "Why do we reincarnate?" like a child I asked my mother. "Because Krishna wants us to", she replied with a frown. I did not like my mother's answer but I did not know why. Slowly I began to come up with a picture of my beliefs; it was easier to create a whole new dish from the same old ingredients than taking the food as it was given. Everyday tasks became tools to understand myself and my beliefs. Constant vigilance as I called it. The simplest of behaviors and actions are supported by a strand of eternal column and analyzing these would clarify my beliefs.

A simple event had started a process that is still occurring, a process of self-recognition. Ideas and thoughts of my mind were no longer based upon beliefs and ideologies that I did not understand or that I did not believe in; they were based upon mine. Hinduism and other religions are all paths that are not meant for me. But there are components that I believe from each of them-a hybrid of all paths. The world was composed of many different colors; I picked a mixture of all. This made everything look much more clear and vibrant. The old man did save me after all.

If there is anyone who is still not bored to death by this pile of junk that even my dog wouldn't wipe his butt on, please provide me with some corrections and comments on this essay. All help is greatly appreciated. Thank you.

Undergraduate / Introduction on my brother's influence on me [5]

Hi. As a first time user and a horrible writer, I need some help with my introduction for the first draft of my admission essay. The prompt is the following:

- Indicate a person who has had a significant influence on you, and describe that influence.

I decided to write about my brother and here is what I have so far(just the introduction).

<I fell from the bed. Bursting into tears, I cried out for my brother, surveying the area for his blurry figure. My mother heard the cacophonous sound of crying from the kitchen and scurried to get me. But it was my brother, Mridul, who was the first to run across the mud floor and retrieved me. Against the backdrop of the dirty tin ceiling, I saw his face. A feeling of security and appreciation took over me as he picked me up and applied ice on the smooth, throbbing bump on my forehead, which to date I still have. Angry and red faced, my mother yelled at me for my stupidity. My brother took a different approach. "You cannot fly, you dummy." I lay in his scratched arms, recovering from the pain and fear, as he continued to explain to me in Bengali why I could not match the feat of gravity. But all I understood was that his knowledge and love for me was just as enduring and great.>

Any help would be greatly appreciated--especially on sentence structures and level of curiosity (if at all) it arouses.

Thank you all.