MIRANDA WONG ❏ At the beginning, life felt like roses. I looked forward to what the next day would bring. Each passing day, anticipation, excitement, hope, joy and mystery greeted me. I felt gratitude and blessed to be with you, a man I believed was my dream come true. I looked forward to learning more about you as our time together went on, and felt that we were a true unit. I saw ahead of us the chance to grow, both individually and together…
MIRANDA WONG ❏ It was through lessons – of deceit, heartbreak, betrayal, inner turmoil facing self-criticism and the disdain from critics of my naivety, and re-direction to self-love and forgiveness – that I wrote this. It was my attempt to put my plight somewhat in perspective…
SAVITHRI DUDDU ❏ Looking at the sun set on the New Year’s Eve, reflecting on the 2021 that passed by like an Instagram reel, repeating itself month over month with lockdown partially, and yet motivating to look for more, all happened in a span of 12 months. Yes! a year is of 12 months, whether we live inside the house or outside. (Just for laughs!)
OLIVE HANNA ❏ I wish that I was dumb and could not speak For then I’d waste no time on useless speech Be tempted not to gossip or to screech beliefs
Just to impress I wish that I was blind and could not see The turmoil and the stress of this poor world The beauties seen, the smell and feel of life Would comfort me
PARVEEN KAUR ❏ My younger brother Lali was born on March 17, 1946. It was his fourth birthday. We were in Jallandhar. He was in an English medium school where the sons and daughters of rich people went. My mother, Pushpa, had gone to his school and invited all the twenty children of his class to his birthday party. On that auspicious day, the dining room was decorated with balloons and buntings. Kiddy bags were filled with goodies for the little guests to take back home.
SAJEDA MANZOOR ❏ Down, around Go astray the leaves Red, yellow, and brown They’re beautiful (you’ll see) Falling to and fro from the same tree The roots cherish them These leaves that’re free To choose the direction To blow in the wind Give colors to the atmosphere Nature won’t be dimmed
DECHEN YEE ❏ Crunch, crunch, crunch… Her boots left imprints on the snowy path as she trudged along the winding trails in the woods. Crunch, crunch, crunch… Her thoughts drifted above the bare tree branches that reached upwards as if to caress the deep blue Ontario winter sky. Bhutan. Circa 1973. She watched intently as his fingers found the wood working tool he was looking for.