Gayathri Kallukaran is a Junior Journalist with Eastern Eye. She has a Master’s degree in Journalism and Mass Communication from St. Paul’s College, Bengaluru, and brings over five years of experience in content creation, including two years in digital journalism. She covers stories across culture, lifestyle, travel, health, and technology, with a creative yet fact-driven approach to reporting. Known for her sensitivity towards human interest narratives, Gayathri’s storytelling often aims to inform, inspire, and empower. Her journey began as a layout designer and reporter for her college’s daily newsletter, where she also contributed short films and editorial features. Since then, she has worked with platforms like FWD Media, Pepper Content, and Petrons.com, where several of her interviews and features have gained spotlight recognition. Fluent in English, Malayalam, Tamil, and Hindi, she writes in English and Malayalam, continuing to explore inclusive, people-focused storytelling in the digital space.
Gen Z views several common emojis as outdated, overused, or passive-aggressive
Emojis like 👍, ❤️, and 😂 are still widely used, but may carry unintended tones
Cultural and generational context matters, especially in British Asian households
Alternatives like 💀, 🙌 and 🥲 are gaining popularity among younger users
Tone, clarity, and intention matter more than following trends
Emojis have long been a quick way to express tone, mood, and personality. But with each generation, interpretations change. Gen Z—roughly defined as those born between the mid-1990s and early 2010s—are now driving new emoji norms, and some symbols once considered friendly or expressive are now seen as outdated or awkward.
For British Asians and Indians navigating multi-generational WhatsApp groups, family chats, or workplace conversations, knowing how emojis are perceived can help avoid crossed wires. Here are 10 emojis that Gen Z reportedly considers out of fashion—and why they matter.
1. 👍 Thumbs-Up
Although intended to signal approval, Gen Z often sees this emoji as blunt or dismissive in casual chats. In workplace settings, it may come across as cold or overly formal—especially if sent alone.
2. ❤️ Red Heart
Once a universal symbol of love or support, the red heart can feel generic or overused to younger users. Alternatives like 💖 (sparkling heart) or 🥲 (bittersweet smile) are considered more expressive.
3. 😂 Face with Tears of Joy
This emoji was Oxford Dictionaries’ Word of the Year in 2015, but many Gen Z users now associate it with millennial humour. It’s often replaced with 💀 (skull emoji), used to express “dead from laughter”.
4. 😭 Loudly Crying Face
While still widely used, this emoji has lost its emotional weight for many younger users. It’s often employed ironically or exaggeratedly, which may confuse recipients expecting sincerity.
5. 😊 Smiling Face with Smiling Eyes
Though meant to be friendly, Gen Z sometimes reads this emoji as passive-aggressive—particularly if it’s used in awkward or emotionally charged conversations.
6. 👌 OK Hand
Previously a sign of agreement or reassurance, this emoji has become less popular due to its dated tone. It’s now less common in everyday digital conversations.
7. 🙈 Monkey Covering Eyes
Once used to express embarrassment or playfulness, this emoji can come across as childish. Gen Z tends to prefer more direct or sincere expressions.
8. 👏 Clapping Hands
Often used for emphasis or celebration, it may now feel performative—especially when used between words for dramatic effect .
9. 😬 Grimacing Face
This emoji is sometimes misunderstood, with younger users finding it inauthentic or awkward. It’s fallen out of favour in favour of emojis that express clearer emotions.
10. ✔️ Check Mark
This emoji is still common in formal or list-based messages, but in casual texts it can appear impersonal. Gen Z often opts for typed responses like “noted” or “done” instead.
Cultural context matters
In British Asian households, emojis are often used across generations—from grandparents to teens. The thumbs-up or red heart, for instance, may still be seen as polite or affectionate by older relatives. Similarly, symbols like 🙏 or 🧡 are frequently used to convey blessings, gratitude, or family warmth.
There’s no need to stop using these emojis entirely—but awareness of how different age groups interpret them can help avoid miscommunication, particularly in professional or cross-generational chats.
For British Asians and Indians navigating multiple social circles—family, professional, or peer-based—it’s helpful to consider how emojis might be received. Gen Z isn’t cancelling emojis entirely, but rather reinterpreting their meaning.
The key is simple: choose emojis that match the tone of the message, the relationship you have with the person, and the context of the conversation. After all, communication—emoji or otherwise—should feel genuine.
REETA CHAKRABARTI is wonderfully eloquent when talking to Eastern Eye about her debut novel, Finding Belle, which she says has been “inspired” by Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre “rather than a retelling of the classic published in 1847”.
To most people in Britain – and indeed across the world – Reeta is the calm, authoritative, reassuring presence on the BBC, which she joined in 1994. Indeed, in March this year she was named “Best Presenter” in Eastern Eye’s Arts, Culture & Theatre Awards (ACTA). After speaking to Eastern Eye last Tuesday (15), she headed back to Broadcasting House to front the BBC’s flagship News at Ten as chief presenter.
A different picture of Reeta emerges as she talks about Finding Belle, which is quite a dark novel that tells of the effect of schizophrenia on Belle, an Indian woman who has met and married a handsome Englishman, Fairfax, in Mombasa, before uprooting to suburban England. The tale is told by their daughter Mivvi, who witnesses the collapse of her parents’ marriage and her mother’s descent into almost a kind of madness. Belle also miscarries. What makes everything worse is Fairfax’s infidelity and cruel refusal to give his wife medical treatment.
Chakrabarti as a seven-year-old in Kolkata
At school, Mivvi is humiliated by a couple of blonde twins, who chant, “Mivvi! Superstar! How many boys have you kissed so far? 24? Maybe more? Ten on the bed and the rest on the floor!”, adding, “Paki! Paki! Blackie, Mivvi, Paki!”
She was “determined to be Daddy’s daughter, not Mama’s,” but, alas, all the soap in the world cannot make her complexion fair and lovely.
Reeta said she has always been a bookworm and read Jane Eyre at the age of eight. Five novels she would take to a desert island would include Jane Eyre, along with Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus; Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro; Tender Is the Night by F Scott Fitzgerald; and George Eliot’s Middlemarch, A Study of Provincial Life. She considered herself to be “an author in search of a novel”. During Covid, she realised it was “now and never”.
She said Jane Eyre “is the book I have read most”. When she was growing up, she was “consumed by the romance between Jane and Rochester”.
“But then as I got older, I started to think Rochester is quite a bastard because he locks up his wife in a cellar. She’s ill, very ill, but instead of finding a treatment, he locks her up. Then he leads Jane a merry dance. The themes within Jane Eyre are of secrecy, a marriage where the wife becomes very mentally ill and is hidden away. She’s a shameful secret, and our attitudes to mental illness these days are entirely different. So that’s where my novel comes from. Schizophrenia is a particular form of psychosis whereby somebody, who may lead their lives fairly normally, can have delusions so they hear voices or imagine scenarios that are not real. This is the condition that I decided to give my fictional character, based on the classical reference to Bertha from Jane Eyre.”
Finding Belle “is not ultimately a bleak novel”, she said.
Mivvi, a bright girl at school, goes off to Bristol to study French (Reeta herself read English and French at Exeter College, Oxford) and finds friendship and marriage with an Indian boy, Ashish. After they have a baby, there is a brief sojourn through Kolkata, a city Reeta knows well.
Reeta’s father, Bidhan Kumar Chakrabarti, a junior doctor, and mother, Ruma, a civil servant, arrived in Britain in 1960. Now 90, her father worked for the NHS, ending up as a surgeon. Her mother passed away in 2016. Reeta’s younger sister, Lolita Chakrabarti, is the wellknown actress and writer (she adapted Life of Pi for the West End).
“My father particularly was very ambitious for me,” said Reeta. “He wanted me to be a doctor and continue the tradition because his father was a doctor and his father was a doctor and his father was a doctor. His older brother was a doctor. I was quite happy to continue the line. Then one day, he took me to theatre to see an operation. I was 13, and he was operating, and I remember being very overcome by the environment, and I fainted to his mortification.” However, he was “over the moon” when Reeta got into Oxford.
In Finding Belle, she initially set Mivvi’s childhood in the 1990s but pushed it back into the 1970s at her editor’s suggestion to reflect her own schooldays.
Although born in London, Reeta moved when she was five to Birmingham, where she attended various state schools before joining King Edward VI High School for Girls.
“1970s Britain was a harsher, cruder place when it came to race,” she said. “I was brought up in Birmingham and although I did not experience very harsh racism there was a lot of teasing at school. This was a few years after Enoch Powell’s (1968 ‘Rivers of blood’) speech, the National Front was quite strong there. Football hooliganism was quite tainted by racism. This is the atmosphere I was trying to recreate from my memory of being a child in the 1970s.”
Chakrabarti holding her book Finding Belle
Her parents did consider returning to Kolkata.
“We made two attempts to live there,” she remembered, “once just for a few months, then for 18 months. When I was 15, we went back to Kolkata. Until I was 16 and a half, I went to the international school there. I did my O levels there. So, I know Kolkata quite well. I still go back quite regularly now. My uncles, aunties, and cousins are all there. And the descriptions that I have of Kolkata towards the end of the novel are very much my accumulated feelings about the city.” In Kolkata she is happy not to be treated as the big BBC star from London but instead, “I am somebody’s niece, the eldest in our group of cousins. These are important relationships for me. My uncles range from their late seventies to mid-nineties. I feel close to them. I feel my Bengali identity increasingly strongly.”In the 1970s, she, like other Asians or Afro-Caribbeans, felt “a strong need to assimilate and be British. I see younger colleagues who don’t feel the need to assimilate in quite the same way. They can have mixed dual heritage much more openly. I can, too, now. Is that a function of changing society or is that because I am older and more confident? I am at the stage where my Indian heritage is very important to me, and so I go back frequently. My three children are British. I use the word British (rather than English) because my husband is Scottish. My children were born here. They are mixed race. They are part of the new Britain.
Chakrabarti at Exeter College, Oxford
“When I was a child, I used to be teased for having Chakrabarti as a surname. It’s now part of the national fabric. People know how to spell it as well.”
She would encourage young people, especially Asians, to go into journalism: “It’s a fantastic career. Some people say it’s an uncertain career, but I’m a great optimist. Each generation remakes an industry for themselves, don’t they? We’re some way from being as integrated and as equal as we should be, but we are so much better than we used to be. I’m, by and large, very proud of the way in which the country has developed.”
n Finding Belle is published by HarperCollins. £16.9
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The piece, Vecchio Sultano, is part of a rare series linked to The Arabian Nights
Original Salvador Dali painting found at a house clearance sale in Cambridge.
Bought for £150, now expected to fetch £20,000–£30,000 at auction.
The piece, Vecchio Sultano, is part of a rare series linked to The Arabian Nights.
Confirmed authentic by Dali expert Nicolas Descharnes.
Auction to be held by Cheffins on 23 October.
Dali original rediscovered in Cambridge sale
A painting by Salvador Dali, bought for just £150 at a house clearance sale, has been authenticated as an original work by the surrealist master and is expected to sell for up to £30,000 at auction.
The artwork, titled Vecchio Sultano, is a mixed media piece featuring watercolour and felt-tip pen. It was acquired in 2023 by an art dealer who later discovered it had been fully attributed to Dali when previously offered at Sotheby’s in the 1990s.
Authenticated and set for auction
The painting has now been certified as genuine by leading Dali expert Nicolas Descharnes. It will be offered by Cambridgeshire-based auctioneer Cheffins on 23 October. The seller has chosen to remain anonymous.
Gabrielle Downie, associate at Cheffins, called the find a “significant rediscovery”:
“The loss of an attribution is quite rare in the modern art world. To handle a genuine rediscovery of a work by someone who is easily one of the most famous artists in the world, and the godfather of Surrealism, is a real honour.”
Only 100 pieces were completed before the project was abandonedCheffins Auctioneers
Link to The Arabian Nights project
Vecchio Sultano depicts a scene from The Arabian Nights and was part of a planned series of 500 works Dali had intended to create, inspired by Middle Eastern folk tales. The project was commissioned by Italian collectors Giuseppe and Mara Albaretto, who had originally asked Dali to illustrate a Bible in 1963. Dali instead chose to focus on 1,001 Nights, reflecting his fascination with Moorish culture.
Only 100 pieces were completed before the project was abandoned. Of these, 50 remained with the publishers and were damaged or lost. The remaining 50 were kept by the Albaretto family and later inherited by their daughter Christina, Dali’s goddaughter.
A rare piece of Dali’s legacy
According to Ms Downie, the artwork likely comes from the batch of 50 retained by the family and later lost. The surviving pieces were published in 2016 by the Folio Society.
With its unusual materials and cultural references, the 38cm x 29cm piece shows a lesser-known aspect of Dali’s creative practice. Ms Downie added:
“While Dali’s work is often some of the most recognisable, this is an unusual piece which shows a different side to his practice when working in watercolour.”
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Lehrer was drawn to both music and mathematics from an early age
Tom Lehrer, known for his sharp musical satire and career as a mathematician, has died at the age of 97.
He passed away at his home in Cambridge, Massachusetts; no cause of death has been disclosed.
Lehrer released multiple influential albums in the 1950s and 1960s and later wrote music for TV, including The Electric Company.
Despite critical acclaim, he retired from performance to focus on teaching mathematics.
In 2022, he released his entire catalogue into the public domain.
Tom Lehrer: A unique voice in satire and science
Tom Lehrer, the mathematician and musical satirist whose sharp humour and melodic wit shaped political comedy in mid-20th century America, has died aged 97. His death was confirmed by his friend David Herder, who said Lehrer died at his home in Cambridge, Massachusetts. No cause of death has been given.
Born on 9 April 1928 in New York City, Lehrer was drawn to both music and mathematics from an early age. He began studying classical piano at age seven and went on to enter Harvard University at just 15, graduating with a bachelor’s degree in mathematics in 1946.
A satirical voice emerges
While at Harvard, Lehrer began writing his own comic songs, often parodying popular musical styles with biting lyrics on politics, education and culture. He released his debut album, Songs of Tom Lehrer, in 1953, which became a cult success.
Following two years of service in the US Army, he released More of Tom Lehrer and a live album, An Evening Wasted with Tom Lehrer, both in 1959. His unique blend of melody and mockery earned him a Grammy nomination in 1960 for Best Comedy Performance (Musical).
Despite his popularity, Lehrer chose to step back from performing professionally, preferring the stability of academic life. He once described live performances as repetitive, likening it to “a novelist going out and reading his novel every night.”
Satire on screen and stage
Lehrer’s musical output continued through other platforms. From 1963 to 1965, he contributed original songs each week to NBC’s political comedy programme That Was the Week That Was, seen as a forerunner to Saturday Night Live. The songs were later compiled in his album That Was the Year That Was, which reached number 18 on the Billboard 200 chart in 1966.
He also wrote music for the 1970s PBS children’s show The Electric Company, further showcasing his versatility as a songwriter.
In the 1980s, Lehrer’s music enjoyed a theatrical revival with Tomfoolery, a stage revue of his songs produced by Cameron Mackintosh. The show premiered in London’s West End before heading to New York.
Academic legacy and final years
Throughout his life, Lehrer balanced music with a commitment to education. He taught mathematics at prestigious institutions including Harvard, MIT, and the University of California, Santa Cruz, where he eventually retired in 2001.
In November 2022, Lehrer made headlines again by announcing that he had released all rights to his songs into the public domain.
“In short, I no longer retain any rights to any of my songs,” he wrote. “So help yourselves, and don’t send me any money.”
Despite decades of public admiration, Lehrer remained a private figure. He never married and had no children.
THEATRE can be a space to explore views that are too ugly or complicated to express in everyday life, an Asian debut playwright has said.
Doctor-turned-writer Shaan Sahota’s play, The Estate, for the National Theatre, is a family political drama that explores relationships.
“I’m really interested in human behaviour, especially the stories people tell about themselves,” Sahota told Eastern Eye. “I’m fascinated by situations where really good people can behave quite badly. You see a lot of that in hospitals, whether it’s patients or staff – decent people just having bad days. That kind of complexity is also what draws me to writing family dramas.
“I find myself wondering: what are the limits of family? How can you behave and still be loved? What lines can you cross? Those are the kinds of questions I find myself asking.”
Directed by Daniel Raggett, the play’s cast features BAFTA-winning actor Adeel Akhtar in a lead role.
Sahota took two years to complete the play, although the original idea came to her in 2019. She said south Asian plays tended to focus on arranged marriages and racism, but rarely explore the “unaddressed issues” that exist within families.
She said, “I’m interested in whether fairness is possible in a family. If something feels deeply unfair, what do you actually do about it? There’s no court of law inside a family. Some wrongs don’t fall within the scope of legal justice. So, do you fight back? And if you do, how? What’s the right way to do it?
“Honestly, I don’t know the answer. That’s one of the reasons I wrote this play – to explore those questions. There’s also the emotional tension: we’ve all got that relative who pushes back hard against things that bother them, and they can be difficult to be around. But what if that person, the one who’s always protesting, actually has the best points? Or what if the most charming and likeable person in the family is the one holding a horrible point of view? That kind of messiness – where right and wrong don’t line up neatly with likability or love – is what really interests me.
At the centre of the story is Angad Singh (played by Akhtar), a high-achieving, public-facing figure whose carefully curated life begins to unravel. Singh is inspired by what the playwright calls “the opportunity to change a tradition – which is arguably incredibly sexist – but choosing not to.”
Adeel Akhtar in the publicity poster for The Estate
She described him as someone who sees himself as an underdog and a good man, even as he behaves increasingly badly. On combining politics and family in her debut play, Sahota said, “I chose politics as my protagonist’s profession because I wanted his bad behaviour at home to come at a cost in his public life. Politics is one of the few careers where you’re expected to have strong personal ethics, and where your personal virtue becomes part of your public image.
“I guess medicine has some of that too, but politics really felt like a space where private actions could have professional consequences. Dramatically, it also raises the stakes – it matters more if he does the right thing or not, because the fallout isn’t just personal, it’s public.
Sahota said the play’s themes – misogyny, tradition, identity – are serious; however, the tone of the play isn’t heavyhanded. “It’s quite light-hearted until suddenly it’s not. It plays with genre. It has comedic pacing and rhythm – you know, the family taking the piss out of each other – and then it shifts into something quite ugly and emotional. I’d call it a comedic tragedy,” she said.
Sahota added, “Everyone in the play thinks they are doing the right thing. That reflects how I see the world – people often have opposing views, but still think they are acting fairly and ethically. I didn’t want to write a play where I came across as the one who’s right. In fact, I wanted someone to watch it and find the characters who are most annoying like me.
“I’m more interested in how good people can disagree profoundly, and how they rationalise their behaviour.
“It’s not a neat debate. It’s about human weakness, pettiness, and how those things get wrapped in noble language.
“As for misogyny and tradition in the play – they don’t exactly collide in a neat way. I tried to give every character the best arguments they could possibly have to defend their views in the play. No one in the play sees themselves as misogynists. Even the character who might be benefiting from sexism genuinely believes he’s being fair, and he makes strong points when he’s challenged.”
The writer’s own background growing up in Southall shaped her perspective.
“I grew up in a Punjabi family in Southall, then went on to Oxford and Cambridge. Like my protagonist, I was exposed to worlds of extreme privilege and started feeling a bit embarrassed about where I came from. I even used to say I lived in Ealing, just to make it sound a bit more glamorous.”
The play was written while she pursued her career in medicine.
Sahota said, “It wasn’t a full-time job. I wrote it on weekends, in my spare time. For a long while, it was something I didn’t really share with anyone.” Eventually, it was picked up and developed by the National Theatre over two years.
Sahota said having her work staged at the National felt surreal. “It’s wild. Dream come true seems like an understatement – it feels like a fantasy. Even in my dreams, the play’s being performed in a school hall with a spotlight. I don’t think I’ve fully grasped it.”
She hoped the play’s specificity can reach beyond its south Asian setting. “These are children of 1970s immigrants. They’re not meant to represent all south Asians, or all Sikh families. This isn’t the ‘truth’ of our people. They’re just one strange family in crisis.”
She said, “I hope south Asians and children of immigrants from different backgrounds find something familiar in it. But also, I want people who thought theatre wasn’t for them to discover something in it too.”
The play offers no moral clarity or easy answers, according to Sahota.
“I hope people feel uncomfortable and don’t know what to think. That’s what life is like – it’s messy and complicated. That’s what I wanted the play to hold space for,” she concluded.
AN ASIAN migrant who arrived in the UK without speaking a word of English has described her experience of assimilation in an award-winning documentary released last month.
Nages Amirthananthar, 83, features in Fearless, which tells the stories of six women who left their homes as young adults to build new lives in Britain.
In an interview with Eastern Eye, she said, “I still struggle to speak properly when my children or grandchildren talk fast or use difficult words. They are very smart. I understand a lot, and I can read and write, but speaking has always been hard for me. That’s why I never had much confidence. I think if there had been proper English courses when I arrived, it would have helped.”
With her husband RS Amirthananthar
Others who narrate their experiences of migration in the film are Sheila Daniel, Aileen Edwards, Maggie Kelly, Anne Gaché, Nashattar Kang; all are now aged between 80 and 92.
Their stories combine humour and inspiration as they reflect on the courage it took to abandon familiar surroundings and forge fresh beginnings in a foreign country. Amirthananthar moved to Scunthorpe in 1975.
She said, “It was difficult to express how I felt, because everything was so new. I had lived in a village in Hartland, and life in the UK was completely different – everything had changed: the lifestyle, the shopping, all of it.
An old portrait
“My husband [Dr RS Amirthananthar, a GP] came before us on a scholarship. He was very calm and supportive, always guiding me on what to do.”
Their family moved to a small village near Hull and bought their first home there. A few of her husband’s relatives lived in Warrington and Leicester.
Originally from Jaffna in Sri Lanka, Amirthananthar could not understand why some people used the racial slur “P*** “to describe her, since she was from the island nation, and not from Pakistan.
She said, “I was about 31 or 32 years old at the time. I couldn’t manage much on my own in the beginning. I had studied in school, but I didn’t speak English well. I could understand it, but speaking was difficult. My husband encouraged me to learn. I took classes at a local ladies’ school and improved.
With her family
“Our neighbour in Scunthorpe was a lovely white lady. She was very kind, always offering to help. She even helped with laundry. There weren’t any Asian women nearby to support me.”
Amirthananthar recalled how she was initially wary about moving to England due to concerns about the cold climate.
However, her husband persuaded her by arguing that their children would have a better life in the UK. The couple were married for 43 years until her husband’s death 17 years ago.
They have five children (the eldest son is 59) and nine grandchildren.
Amirthananthar said, “English people are very nice. I always liked mixing with them. When I first arrived, I used to go to coffee mornings with the neighbours – mostly English people, because there were very few Asians in the neigbhourhood. We’d take turns hosting, just chatting and spending time together.”
She revealed her cooking skills helped her to “navigate the tough times” and that many people were many fans of her dishes, and that she was encouraged to start her own restaurant.
She said, “I like doing things for others, especially cooking. That’s how I’ve made so many friends. Even now, people send me Christmas cards and photos. Many people asked me to start a restaurant. They said they’d come and help. But my husband didn’t want me to cook for others – only for the family.”
At the time there was little or no government support for migrants in Britain, but Amirthananthar said language classes or training programmes would have made a significant difference, particularly in building confidence among newcomers.
She said, “Many people today already speak the language when they arrive in the UK, which helps. Once they know the language, they can integrate and contribute to society.”
Amirthananthar described her experience of watching Fearless as “very good,” though she admitted to feeling somewhat shy during the screening.
She was particularly caught off guard when asked (in the film) if she had enjoyed herself before marriage. Her response was that she had. “Everyone laughed at that bit, and I was embarrassed,” she recalled.
The experience of seeing her story portrayed in a film came as a shock. “I never thought my story would appear in a film,” she said, adding that women of her generation are not accustomed to seeing themselves represented in this way.
Her naturally open personality meant she answered all questions honestly during filming, though she later wondered whether she had been too candid – especially regarding her admission that she was happier before marriage.
Her children, however, reassured her that honesty was the right approach.
Amirthananthar said she hoped young viewers will understand that love has always been central to her character.
“Calm down, darling. Don’t let your emotions take over,” is advice she regularly gives to her children and grandchildren.
Perhaps this helped her at times when dealing with her late husband’s occasionally short temper. “When you live with love, you must be patient,” she reflected, summarising the philosophy that has guided her life.
She added, “Do your duty properly. Don’t be afraid of anyone. Be honest and calm. Do your best and don’t ignore your responsibilities. That’s what I’ve done my whole life – and I still do.”
She emphasised the importance of selfreliance, adding: “Be honest and work hard. That’s the most important thing. You have to do your best. I don’t like when people claim benefits they don’t deserve. This is our land now – you should work for your living, not rely on others.”