Written by the Scribner

March 11, 2022

Anu is dying, the one that loves to bake cake, or at least used to love to bake a cake is dying.

Things are here and then things are not there. It is as if she has been eaten by her brother, but all our sins and actions always come back to us, and we have to answer. It is nothing to be afraid of, just sharing the news so you are not taken aback when she does.

Anu, the little one. A name of an ancestor, like a name used for elephants. That ancestor is retreating and pulling back its life force. It has done its job and her task is done.

She lived a life, not necessarily a fantastic one, with unmet expectations and aspirations. But between this, there is not much left. Our lives are our stories and our stories are our building blocks. We can always tell our stories, and choose what kind of life we want. So remember that, as everything is always active, like a volcano, the charcoal that burns and reveals brilliance. I did not know I was a poet.

Back to Anu, that it is finished, and all is done. There is nothing much to digest, don’t get distracted by the story of the passing. She is unfortunately not your people. The ending is coming near and when it falls, it will be finality.

We tell you to give you heads up. Think of it like your own spirit delivered telegram and that is how that life will end. No fanfare, but a passing through time. Jisike.