Sant Wires' Gabion Boxes: Robust Retaining Walls for Jammu & Kashmir
Sant Wires' Gabion Boxes: Robust Retaining Walls for Jammu & Kashmir
How Sant Wires Ltd’s Gabion Boxes Build Strong Retaining Walls in Jammu & Kashmir
Tackling Soil Erosion and Slope Instability in Hilly Terrains
The hilly and mountainous regions of Jammu & Kashmir are known for their stunning landscapes and diverse ecosystems. However, these areas also face significant problems like soil erosion and slope instability. These issues can lead to landslides, loss of farmland, and damage to infrastructure. Therefore, it is important to find strong and lasting solutions for soil retention and slope stabilization.
Challenges with Traditional Earth Retention Methods
Traditional methods like concrete retaining walls or soil nailing often don't work well in the hilly regions of Jammu & Kashmir. These methods can force the soil to maintain unnatural angles, which increases the risk of structural failure. Additionally, factors like heavy rainfall, earthquakes, and temperature changes can affect the soil and the stability of these traditional retaining structures.
What are Gabion Boxes and How Do They Work?
Gabion boxes are rectangular wire mesh containers filled with rocks or other materials. They are typically made from strong, heavily galvanized steel wire, which provides durability. The mesh allows for flexibility and permeability, making gabion boxes an ideal solution for construction projects in challenging terrain.
The wire mesh acts as a flexible form, allowing the box to adapt to ground movements without losing its integrity. The rocks inside are tightly packed, creating a dense and strong structure capable of withstanding substantial loads and environmental stresses. The permeable design of gabion boxes allows water to pass through, reducing the buildup of pressure and minimizing the risk of structural failure due to water accumulation.
About Sant Wires Ltd – Leading Gabion Box Manufacturer in Uttarakhand
Sant Wires Ltd, based in Rishikesh, Uttarakhand, is a leading company in gabion box manufacturing. With over two decades of experience, they provide high-quality gabion boxes for various infrastructure projects. Their state-of-the-art manufacturing facility ensures the production of durable and reliable gabion boxes.
Sant Wires Ltd offers a wide range of gabion boxes tailored to meet the needs of different projects, including retaining walls, slope stabilization, erosion control, and landscaping. Their commitment to quality is evident in their entire manufacturing process, from sourcing premium raw materials to implementing stringent quality control measures.
Resilience Against Environmental Factors
Gabion structures by Sant Wires Ltd are designed to withstand harsh environmental conditions, making them ideal for the rugged terrain of Jammu & Kashmir. The wire mesh used in the construction is made from high-quality, corrosion-resistant materials, ensuring long-lasting performance even in damp or humid conditions. The rock-filled baskets allow for natural drainage, reducing the risk of water accumulation and subsequent soil erosion.
Gabion structures are also highly resistant to seismic activity due to their flexible design. This feature makes them an excellent choice for areas prone to earthquakes, like Jammu & Kashmir.
Gabion Boxes: Versatile and Adaptable Solutions for Hilly Terrains
Gabion boxes from Sant Wires Ltd offer a versatile and adaptable solution for retaining walls and slope stabilization in Jammu & Kashmir. They can be used for various projects, including riverbank protection, erosion control, and even architectural and landscaping features. Their modular design allows for customization, enabling the creation of unique and visually appealing structures that blend with the natural environment.
Successful Gabion Box Projects by Sant Wires Ltd
Sant Wires Ltd has a proven track record of successful gabion box projects in challenging hilly regions. For example, they built a retaining wall along a steep slope in the Himalayan region of Uttarakhand, stabilizing the slope and blending seamlessly with the surroundings. In Himachal Pradesh, their gabion boxes reinforced a roadside embankment, preventing potential landslides and ensuring road safety.
Contact Sant Wires Ltd for Gabion Solutions
Sant Wires Ltd offers comprehensive gabion solutions for retaining wall structures in the hilly terrains of Jammu & Kashmir. Whether you’re a contractor, developer, or government agency, their team of experts is available for consultations and site visits to help you find the perfect gabion solution for your project. Contact Sant Wires Ltd today to create durable and sustainable retaining wall structures for the challenging terrains of Jammu & Kashmir.
For More Information:
C-4/1, UPSIDC Industrial Area,Dhalwala, Rishikesh,Uttarakhand 249201
7983416390
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Rockfall Protection Techniques in India
The majestic mountains and rugged terrains of India add to its natural beauty, but they also present a unique challenge: rockfalls. These sudden and often unpredictable occurrences pose a significant threat to life, property, and infrastructure. Thankfully, various rockfall protection techniques exist to mitigate these risks and ensure the safety of individuals, communities, and critical assets.
Understanding the Threat:
Rockfalls can be triggered by various factors, including:
● Natural causes: Heavy rainfall, earthquakes, and erosion can loosen rocks and trigger falls.
● Human activities: Construction, mining, and blasting can destabilize slopes and increase the risk of rockfalls.
The consequences of rockfalls can be severe, causing:
● Loss of life and injuries: Falling rocks can directly harm people or damage structures, leading to casualties.
● Infrastructure damage: Roads, bridges, buildings, and other infrastructure can be damaged or destroyed by rockfalls, disrupting essential services and causing economic losses.
● Environmental damage: Rockfalls can destabilize slopes, trigger landslides, and damage vegetation, impacting the environment.
Rockfall Protection Techniques:
Fortunately, various rockfall protection and mitigation techniques exist to address these concerns. Some common methods include:
● Passive barriers: These are fixed structures like rockfall barriers, mesh nets, and draped nets that intercept and absorb the impact of falling rocks.
● Active barriers: These are dynamic systems like rockfall fences and rockfall catchers that deflect or capture falling rocks using kinetic energy.
● Rockfall stabilization: This involves techniques like anchoring, bolting, and shotcreting to stabilize loose rocks and slopes.
● Monitoring and early warning systems: These systems use sensors and cameras to detect potential rockfalls and provide advance warnings for evacuation or mitigation measures.
Choosing the Right Technique:
The ideal rockfall protection technique depends on several factors, including:
● The size and type of rocks: Different techniques are suitable for different sizes and types of rocks.
● Slope characteristics: The steepness, stability, and geology of the slope influence the choice of technique.
● Budget and resources: Different techniques have varying costs and require specialized expertise.
Shri Sai Eco Solutions: Your Partner in Rockfall Protection:
Shri Sai Eco Solutions is a leading provider of rockfall protection and mitigation solutions in India. With years of experience and expertise, we offer a comprehensive range of services, including:
● Site assessment and risk evaluation: We assess the specific rockfall risks at your site and recommend the most suitable protection techniques.
● Design and engineering: Our team of experienced engineers designs and plans effective rockfall protection systems tailored to your specific needs.
● Installation and maintenance: We provide skilled personnel and equipment for the installation and maintenance of your rockfall protection system.
● Regulatory compliance: We ensure all our solutions comply with relevant regulations and safety standards.
Investing in rockfall protection is an investment in safety and security. By partnering with experienced professionals like Shri Sai India, you can safeguard your communities, infrastructure, and assets from the dangers of rockfalls.
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MANNA- CHAPTER NINETEEN: DUCK
Dark!Hannibal Lecter x Reader x Dark!Will Graham AU fic
TW for eating disorders, noncon, abuse, Daddy kink, cannibalism mentions, murder mentions
Read after the cut
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“Family,” says Hannibal. “Let’s return to that subject today.”
You occupy the living room, each in a velvet armchair tilted with intent to replicate the layout of his office, the clever dressing of a theatre set. Attempts to put off this particular session had proved inefficacious, the coercion of your attendance rendering you curt and snappish in demeanor.
Truthfully you’ve been so since this morning, having rolled, coughing and vaguely feverish, from dreams of bodies hung rattling like so many clothes hangers in some subterrestrial den.
Hannibal, as expected, had still seen fit to persist with his agenda, weathering your complaints with a brisk good humour.
Will had made himself scarce sometime before you’d awoken, and has left word that you’re not to expect his return for many days. You yearn for him in all his brittle ferocity, a gabion against his friend’s subtle erosion of your mind as you know it. The early hour, the assault of unwanted conversation: such sly methods of torture will damn you to madness as quick as the murkiest secret.
“I’ve told you about my family,” you say to Hannibal, fingering a loose tuft of angora on your sweater. “Besides, you won’t even let me talk to them.”
“I don’t think that it would be to your benefit for me to do so,” he answers, and makes a gracious pretence of examining his pen.
Had you not extended a hand to Amy there would indeed have been a second call, this you’re clearly meant to understand. Hannibal is not above such trivial warfare, as he makes a continuing point to prove; you might be entertained by so comic a flaw were you not in such dire opposition.
“Maybe it’d be good for me to talk to my family,” you say, smartly. “And how can you know that it wouldn’t be when you barely know anything about them?”
Hannibal smirks, pleased to have cast such irresistible bait.
“Enlighten me, then. Begin with your mother, if you like. A predictable start, but in that simplicity rather less challenging than other avenues.”
You glance about the room as though seeking inspiration from it and find it wanting. Only the window at which the dying autumn presses its face wets the brush of conversation again, that symbol of fleeing dark brick to beyond a reminder that you must play on.
“We fight a lot,” you say. “My mom and me. She always has to be right about everything all the time. Never made a mistake in her life. Never apologises for anything. And if you criticise her— well, just don’t. Plus, she used to hit me when I was little. Nothing crazy, but still. She hit me.
“Then one day I slapped her right back and she never did it again.”
Pausing, you tug the hem of your sweater to your knees, an instinct to cover skin that today is not an inch bare.
“It’s funny,” you say. “She acts like she doesn’t remember any of it now.”
“Those in denial of their misdeeds often excise those shameful moments from the past,” says Hannibal. “It may not even be a conscious decision on her part.”
“It’d almost be better if it was. Then maybe she could own up to it, some day.”
Hannibal’s pen mars a fresh page in his notebook; even were it not upside down you suspect you’d fail to untangle his complicated hand.
“Has your mother’s behaviour caused friction surrounding your anorexia?” he asks.
“God, yeah,” you say, half laughing. “She used to yell at me. Tried to bully me into eating. Now she cries a lot and kind of makes it all about her. She loves me, but not in the ways you want in a mother. She pays for stuff. Drives me to places. Ticks all those boxes, you know? But she’s never been kind or comforting, really.
“It’s not all her fault. I guess she just doesn’t know how.”
A leaf falls against a windowpane like the hand of a dead, withered child, and you find yourself drawing back in your seat, wishing you’d the strength to push the chair against the wall.
“Why do you think your mother is unable to fulfil her role as you would like?” asks Hannibal.
“I guess my grandparents treated her the same way she treats me. They were always kind of cold with me when I knew them.”
“Generational cruelty is an infection one must wittingly sterilise. A pity so few are self-aware enough to administer that treatment. Was your father sufficiently conscious?”
Odd, this invocation of the paternal when Hannibal and Will have worked so diligently to embody it in place of your genetic relative.
Now, in a shirt the colour of thatch rolled pristinely back from the jewel of his wristwatch, the doctor could well be the wealthy father of a girl your age, the type to pour upon you his thousands, to walk you down the aisle in a venue of his choosing to marry an approved match of your class.
But you will never wed now that Hannibal has claimed you. He speaks of your family from a wreckage of his making, at ease with his distance from it.
“I love my dad the most,” you say. “But he’s a weird guy. Quiet. Never opens up about his feelings. He’ll talk about movies, or the news, but real stuff? Nope. So I've never felt all that comfortable around him. I mean, with good reason after... after everything.”
“More than good,” says Hannibal, firmly. “That you aren’t angrier with both parents for their abandonment in your time of need surprises me.”
“I don’t really blame them. Uncle Lee has this way about him. He can make people believe pretty much anything he says.”
Inevitable that you should mention Leland, who—though of other blood—is still an incestuous growth on the vine.
“What is this way of his?” asks Hannibal. “You’ve previously spoken of a power to sash the eyes of loved ones against what you perceive to be an obvious darkness. How does that ability present in him?”
You bring your legs up onto the chair, crossing them under you for comfort.
“He moved from Louisiana in his twenties,” you say, “so he still has the accent and everything. He even speaks French sometimes. Then there’s this way of holding himself he has. Kind of cocky, but funny, though. From the second he moved in on our street my parents just loved him, apparently. They never saw what I saw.”
“He’d donned the rubber mask.”
You look up at Hannibal almost shyly.
“Yeah. You remember.”
“Yes. And did you love him, in spite of what seemed to you an obvious guise?”
“I did. In some sick way I still do. So I get why my Mom and Dad believed him over me, but sometimes I think maybe part of them knows the truth, but they just shove it down deep like something dead.”
Scrubbing your face angrily with the sleeve of your sweater you snub, without noticing it, the omnipresent box of tissues on the nearby table top. Hannibal makes no remark on your unclean habit, only pours you a cup of green tea which you accept for the sake of avoiding an argument.
“To truly love someone you mustn’t bury their evils,” says Hannibal. “You must find acceptance of them in whatever form you can. Your parents do not care for this friend so much as fear the upheaval of the known. A suburban life, a sullied idyll— by sending you to me they are attempting to reverse its disunion from their image of it in memory.”
“They’re selfish,” you say. “I know. What’s new there?”
You look at the bottom of your teacup, hunting an impossible pattern in the pale ceramic.
“I don’t want to talk about my family anymore. What about yours? You had a sister, didn’t you?”
Hannibal’s eyes change like the blackening of dusk.
“Will told you this,” he says.
“Does it matter?” you ask, shrilly. “I want to know who you are, Daddy, and this is where I want to start. What happened to Mischa? What did she die of?”
It’s frightening how the man before you alters in only light adjustments: the quiet crossing of a limb, the rhomboid slant of shoulders under his jacket, each a signifier of the restless potentiality for truculence in him.
His face is not so beautiful in moments such as this. The flaws in it stand out to you: flesh racked over halberds of bone, something amphibious in the mouth, of some alien taxon. A killer’s physiognomy, little though you care for such sciences as would define it so.
“My sister was murdered when she was a little girl,” says Hannibal. “I interrupted the culprit in the midst of defiling her body, but it was too late. She was lost to me.”
The moon opal of a tear tips loose of an eyelash, its passage a kinetic artistry. What you’d taken for anger is another emotion: a raw and ancient loss.
“Oh my god,” you say. “That’s awful. Do you know who killed her?”
“A man who remains imprisoned to this day,” says Hannibal. “That is his penance for taking Mischa from me.”
You are in too great a terror and disgust of this man to embrace him, as would feel apt for a moment such as this.
“I’m sorry,” you say, weakly.
Hannibal closes the notebook in his lap and asks, almost blandly, “Are you?”
His bald disbelief flusters you.
“Yes. Of course. She was just a little girl. In fact, I feel like I get it, now. All of this. Me and you. It makes sense why you want me. Why you are what you are. It’s because of her.”
Forcing a smile, you reach over and touch a hand to Hannibal’s cheek.
He turns his face gently away from the caress.
“You’re mistaken, Little One. Whereas you were moulded by your circumstances, I was liberated by mine.”
You stare at him, endeavouring to bone his words for their meaning.
“What are you saying?”
“My philosophies and desires pre-existed Mischa’s death. My love for her restrained me, for while she lived I was never free to act as I yearned to in fear that she would be harmed. In some ways I resented that restraint, but in passing Mischa offered me the opportunity to forgive her.”
A cloud snuffs out the sun, and you sit in the dark of it, aghast.
“Forgive her for what?” you ask, in a near whisper. “Helping you? Hannibal, I—”
“We are still at an impasse, I see,” he says, coolly. “We must rectify this. Would you like to know how she received her absolution?”
You shake your head.
“But you must,” says Hannibal. “You’re a curious girl. Mischa’s remains now lie in a grave in my home country. Before I buried them there, I ate part of her. That is how I reconciled my feelings for my sister with what I am.”
Shock throttles your body in its tremor, and the empty teacup drops from your hand, prevented from breaking only by the carpet underfoot. You had, with all the delicate senses of a medium, deciphered the presage of his appetite, and still you feel the plates of the earth shudder with the magnitude of his confession.
Hannibal gets up from his seat, places the cup back into its saucer, and takes your hand in his.
“Let’s end the session there,” he says. “I’d like to involve you in preparing today’s meal, since that’s a new interest of yours.”
With a fear-stricken servility you walk with him to the kitchen, expecting him to have something—someone—preserved in the glossy coffin of the refrigerator.
Instead Hannibal kneels to unlatch an ingenious door in the floorboards, revealing a neat little staircase which runs down into a basement room. From it emanates a rolling field of cold, biting at you through your clothes.
You take a step back, near tumbling in your eagerness to escape it.
“What is that?”
“It’s an expansion of the freezer,” says Hannibal. “With all the dinner parties I host it’s natural that I found myself in need of more storage space. This is my answer to that problem. I’d like you to go down and choose a cut of meat for dinner.”
There’s no threat in the statement; he speaks, in fact, quite casually, meaning to impress upon you the mundanity of his diet in his eyes. To make supper of his sister, to dine upon lamb: there is no separation for him, being that all of it is meat.
You squeeze your eyes shut, cannot face the oblong of shadow beyond the steps which you’ve dreamt of, unknowing,
“Please don’t make me go down there, Daddy.”
“There’s nothing to be frightened of. Open your eyes, Little One.”
“No. No. I don’t want to.”
You try to turn away, but Hannibal arrests you by the arms, holding you as a farmer would a wriggling hare.
“I’m not going to eat you,” he says. “If that’s what you think.”
“I know!” you wail. “But it doesn’t matter. If I go down there and... see, everything’ll change forever. Because I’ll know for sure, and I’ll be part of it. And I can’t be part of it. I’ll go crazy.”
You jerk passionately in Hannibal’s grip, but his greater strength prevails.
“Wait,” you say. “When you talked about Leland—bringing him to me—you meant that I should kill him to eat.”
“Yes,” says Hannibal, simply. “I did.”
There is a softness in his eyes you recognise as hope. He is a man desperate to create others like him, for all that he believes that they are born.
“But you said with Mischa that eating her was forgiveness,” you say. “But you don’t want me to forgive Uncle Lee. So what would it mean to eat him?”
“Look to why trophy hunters keep mementos of their sport. Some as markers of achievement and dominance over the animal, and others in a subconscious humiliation of the predator they’ve slain. Man gloats to bring a tiger to kneel; a girl, having conquered man, might do the same.”
Thinking of Hannibal’s recorded killings, some of them young women, you say, “Most animals don’t deserve humiliation.”
“That’s all a matter of perspective, my dear. A seasoned hunter develops rather a discerning eye for flaws in his quarry.”
Hannibal smooths a lock of hair behind your ear, his rancid touch queerly soothing.
“What did Savannah Belmont do to deserve humiliation?” you ask, sulkily. “She wasn’t a bad person. She was just a girl, like me.”
“A cursory reading of obituaries and odes to Miss Belmont’s life denote her brief career at a rare bookshop,” says Hannibal, “for which position her personal tastes suggest she was underqualified to take. It wouldn’t be so unrealistic to assume that she left customers unhappy with her inadequate ability to serve them.”
Horror breaks over you like the falling of a chandelier. This, too, you had foreseen: no serious cause to kill was ever required for Hannibal, and that you are fucked rather than murdered by him is but a flourish of fate.
Peering into your eyes, Hannibal comes to a rapid decision and bends to close the trapdoor again.
“Duck, tonight, then,” he says. “That will suffice.”
*
Through terror you cling to Hannibal long into the afternoon, lurking at his elbow, a thumb in your mouth, as he prepares for the day’s appointments.
If he is he here, with you, he cannot kill, you reason, not while he thinks only of the invitation of tear-salt on your lips, the liquor of your nether mouth around him. Again and again you’ll die upon his cock as tribute, for though cold in your disorder you are not so callous as to allow others to, if you can help it.
“I’ll be gone for just a few hours, sweet girl,” he says, pausing to rock you in his lap. “No more of this. I’ve left a new book for you in your room. Please begin reading it for me. And there is the recording of an opera I’d like you to watch. That should keep you occupied until I’m home to you.”
It’s only after he’s driven away in the hearse of his car that you succumb to the awfulness of all you've heard. As in those primordial days of captivity you grasp the bars of your window and scream into the burnished day, beating your fists upon the iron until they burst across the bone.
Only a volley of coughing halts you in this fit, sending you to your bed alarmed by the weakness come over you. You lie shivering for hours, wondering if this is the nervous exhaustion you’ve read about in novels that ends in heroines consigned to the madhouse, sunny climes, or else the grave, none of which you might expect to be released to.
When Hannibal returns he feels your forehead and listens to your coughs with a mildly furrowed brow.
“Hospital,” you croak, but he only laughs and strokes your head.
“There’s no need for that. You have a chest infection. Your immune system is very poor. Nevertheless, you’ll be well again soon.”
He perfumes your damp neck with a kiss and sits down in a chair beside you.
“Perhaps it’s for the best that Will is occupied with work,” he comments, at length. “I wouldn’t like his condition to worsen again.”
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Josh creates habitat for insects, birds, and lizards in his garden by planting an array of native plants and building some simple structures for shelter and water.
‘I’ve always seen our garden as shared space. I don’t just mean for friends and family, but for wildlife too.’
Over the years Josh has put in the effort to accommodate biodiversity into his garden, creating many projects such as nesting boxes, bird baths, native plantings, frog ponds, insect hotels and more. Gabion structures create heaps of hiding spots for insects, logs and boulders provide basking areas for skinks, and there is even a nest box for pardalotes. But aside from these structures, it is the plants that underpin everything—native plants! If you want to support wildlife, native plants can provide a food source for them. If this is one of your goals, it is important to think about having food available throughout the year.
Josh’s native habitat verge aims to provide this, with grevilleas as a source of nectar for nectar-feeding birds. The coastal sword sedge produces seed as a food source, and the local eucalypts house heaps of insects, which are eaten by insectivorous birds. The key is diversity in species and in structure—understory, midstory, overstory.
There are a few areas in Josh’s verge plantings that need a little touch-up and accentuation. Josh will first assess what is working in the verge, and what needs some attention. They will start with some maintenance to existing plants, then install simple habitat structures, and lastly plant out some natives specifically chosen for their tempting berries and flowers to draw in wildlife.
Tidy up existing plantings:
Kangaroo paws are beloved by nectivorous birds such as honeyeaters, wattlebirds, and spinebills. Josh’s Kangaroo paws have finished flowering and the tall flower spikes are faded and spent. There is also an ailing one-sided bottlebrush. Josh cuts back the sickly foliage to give the plant a better chance at growing back healthy.
Method: Cut back the flower spikes at the base, and be mindful of the brittle irritating hairs on the dry kangaroo paw flowers. PPE- gloves & glasses.
New native plantings:
With this reclaimed space, Josh wants to plant a mix of locally native species that can provide food to animals, particularly lizards and birds. As the plants are local to his area, they will be perfect for encouraging local native wildlife. His plant selection is a good mix of flowering, fruiting and protective plantings. All the plants have low water requirements, so they fit into Josh’s priorities in his garden. He is also planting some berry-bearing native species that will be a sweet treat for the reptiles. Ensure to mulch thoroughly after planting as lizards love to hide in the mulch.
Habitat structures:
Josh has some salvaged native hardwood logs which have been drilled into by boring insects. These insects are long gone, but the holes that they left behind could be the perfect habitat for native bees. Josh uses this log as a stand for a shallow dish that can be used as a bird bath.
‘It doesn’t take much to create wildlife habitat in your garden, the right plants, some nesting structures, and some water is really all you need. For us gardeners, there is really no bigger compliment than creating a space that others want to share.’
Featured Plants:
SPIDER NET GREVILLEA - Grevillea preissii ‘Gilt Dragon’
COASTAL SWORD-SEDGE - Lepidosperma gladiatum
DWARF SUGAR GUM - Eucalyptus cladocalyx ‘Nana’
ONE-SIDED BOTTLEBRUSH - Calothamnus quadrifidus cv.
KANGAROO PAW - Anigozanthos cv.
- Grevillea crithmifolia
OBTUSE-LEAVED GREVILLEA - Grevillea obtusifolia
HONEYPOT DRYANDRA - Banksia nivea
SPREADING FLAX-LILY - Dianella revoluta
BERRY SALTBUSH - Chenopodium baccatum syn. Rhagodia baccata
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