Today’s messenger rest on a branch of the tree across from my balcony, repeatedly flies away and returns. Sometimes it’s still, at others its chuntering or maybe chewing.
The dragonfly arrives as I’m writing about how we first met to be submitted for a literary competition. I’m happy that this messenger is a reminder that she’s still with me and loves me. It’s taken up residence on the branch. Lucie’s walk will have to wait.
The dragonfly leaves to be replaced by a butterfly flying to me on the balcony.
A few weeks ago, I complained to Manjula that I’d not heard from her. Within days a dragonfly maybe ten times bigger flew into the downstairs hall, circled me three times and landed on Manjula’s pennant.
Missing Manjula. Second Christmas and birthday without her
At today’s writers group a presentation from editor Karthika helped clarify what is possible.
I’ve committed to Manjula to write our story with a working title of Full Full. I’ve completed the first draft of many and feels like I’m building the Taj Mahal out of matchsticks. This will take sometime.
Target date March 2022 to complete story
Launch book by August 2022 on what would have been Manjula’s 49th Birthday
Identify Editor, First Readers, Community Publisher advisor,
Create 3000 person mailing list and feature blog posts to help create interest.
Self publish POD and E book with 1000 sale target
Available in Hebden Bridge U.K. and silverfish (mysore) local bookshops.
Next: consider… additional chapters, Children’s book, Online interactive version
for working together to create this beautiful image.
‘Beloved’ A portrait of Manjula
Stephen’s love for Manjula . Weaves a bridge, between our worlds. A bridge made of heart strings, a bridge of exploration to the multi dimensional. Manjula’s love for Stephen. Pierces through the veil, as a warm ray on a chilly day.
by Aadirika Kawa
Manjula would laugh and tease me, claiming we already had too many paintings. I can’t get enough of her.
Thank you for my wonderful Christmas present and presence.
You may recall an earlier posting here about my very own star. MAnjula was without doubt a shooting star who exploded, touched all of our lives with an intensity that left slivers of influence for all of us with lasting effect and with one assertive example.
It’s the early hours of the morning I’m often woken by a thud at my bedroom door. It may four or five heaves before she breaks through to sleep by my side on the Tibetan rug.
In the morning as I prepare breakfast she stand motionless staring through the kitchen door, waiting.
Later in the day I’m sitting in the balcony chair or lying on the Divan, reading a book and as soon as my eyes begin to droop: she talks loudly, a friendly attention seeking growl. This is since Manjula slipped through my clumsy fingers. It feels as if one of those slivers of the shooting star, the thoughtful caring spirit is now resting within Lucie. There is no doubt Lucie has taken a more assertive role and Manjula’s presence is felt , I have a new boss.
MAnjula is with me in so many ways and nothing dampens her spirit, then or now.