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She switched on the television on a Saturday morning to catch up with what was happening around. First, she learned of refugees crossing the Mediterranean Sea, navigating the waves of death in hopes of a better life. Then quickly came the news of a rape. The girl was only 12, but apparently, it was her fault, the society reported. Flashes came in about hurricanes, floods, and fires.

Exasperated, disgusted, saddened—she restlessly pressed the off button on the remote. She looked outside the window for a while to let go of the anxiousness that surged within her. She could only see buildings, old trees, and the abandoned streets.

‘Maybe I should talk to someone,’ she thought. She reached for her phone and opened WhatsApp. There were 56 unread messages, 31 good morning texts in her extended family groups, 14 new rumored remedies of COVID-19, and 11 comments and jokes that she couldn’t even register.

Ignoring all those, she started texting a friend, “Hey! How are you doing this…” when she encountered something unusual yet sweet. A sunbird had come to meet her. It was sitting on her window pane, singing sweetly. It stayed there long as if calling out to someone. Maybe it was reaching out to her, telling her that she wasn’t alone. She, on the other hand, had found her meditative hymn, her momentary remedy for existential overwhelm. 

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