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  • A day before the day when Father passed away in 1995, thunder lightning and hail heavily showered from rumbling dark clouds.
    The day saddens me deeply. If Father had been alive ...but no, he is not....

    Are the clouds merciful? what message is there or is there any at all? is it my imagination? or my dream wishes hover and linger?

    Taken as signs, in times when Nature was kept closer, when people looked at the sun sky and the stars at night, and now life
    is back to the modern castles.
    This is an Age of Metal, with a difference.

    My love of writing moves me to seek new 'pages'
    I have changed so many and written so many words.

    Unknown people, friends, read them, like' them and now 'love' them.
    I call myself a writer, who writes stories
    But what is my story?

    Story of a born refugee?....
    Story of a married woman?.....
    Story of a daughter?.......
    Story of a sister of a special brother?.....
    Story of a young Mother ?.......
    Story of an .... Teacher?........
    Story of a citizen of a misunderstood terrorist state?
    Story of Fear yearning for Peace?.....

    Someone said ' Its the place where you are,change it to change your world'
    'Ah, Change' I have changed so many times,that I have forgotten my real self'.Playing so many roles in life has earned me the Title of 'Weirdo'
    Perhaps that would be my real story.
    I saw this bird on the tree perched without fear, bravely bearing the thunder lightning and rain, and then suddenly I realized that
    'No Wind was blowing', the atmosphere felt cool and peaceful....
    Yes, that was the answer for me...The nest too was secure.It had been there for days,months, and seasons, it was still there

    I stepped inside the safety of the house.Said a prayer for Father and for the family and for all known and unknown.

    Sadness eased a little.
    Returning to the e-machine I read the interview of award winning writer Ms Oonya Kempadoo and I quote:

    “That’s the lovely part — that’s the daydreaming part of writing — where everything melds together and anything is possible because you are living in that moment.” ~

    Which are Life's real moments? 'There are many like the lovely 'stopping to watch the birds' mentioned by Friend Kathy Weinberg.How strange that a similar moment was being experienced so faraway by someone else but what made the big difference was 'that' someone wrote about it and shared it with the world and 'someone just watched alone in silence.

    So the stories go together,
    The seasons go together
    The hopes go together

    The sky is one for all of us
    Earth is a planet for all of us

    And Cowbird is a gift and a blessing.
    Hopes remain alive......
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