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  • #1813

    In reply to: Synchronicity

    TracyTracy
    Participant

      The first blog post I read after the comment I wrote this morning was about underwater caves !

      #1033
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        Dory was just about to set off for Rita’s house for the appointment with the hairdresser when she read the news. Rita was getting married soon and wanted to experiment with different hairstyles and make-up, and Dory had planned to join her for a bit of a make-over , out of curiosity, but the news of cyclone Ycart and its trail of devastaion caught her attention.

        Intuitively she knew that the island that she had tried to book a flight to while she was on a Heathrow stop-over had been affected by the cyclone, and right then and there Dory made up her mind to go to the island on the pretext of helping the relief aid workers. In actuality she was merely curious ~ well, more than ‘merely’ curious, she was feeling the pull of an interesting probability choice.

        #2149

        In reply to: The Story So Far

        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          Tikfijikoo Island (continued)

          (synopsis)

          It starts with the Dr doing some evil tests on that remote island; he’s with the nurse Bellamy, whose forte is coconut tree frog-leaping, and Veranessesseesessesses with her impossible name (V’ass)
          We then learn the Dr is mad, and his researches are financed by an occult organization, who V’ass is working for, to check on their assets; he’s mad but brilliant.

          He’s a bit of a transvestite too (fullname Chris Bronklehampton)
          The organization has given him a machine in which there is a crystal skull, unknown to him. This crystal skull seems linked to spiders somehow and his researches on spiders genome (blue bonnet), but we only know it’s coveted by many people. It’s all happening in our dimension, roughly at our time.

          (Where Leo and Bea are renting Jose’s house and they are Dory’s and Dan timeframe ie: now)

          The first experiences give dreadful results; there is Sasha (mummified by the doctor) who’s dead, and now speaks with the Dr; and there is Claude, who gained super strength and madness, and escaped the island facility.
          Claude is one of those working with the Mad Baron ; he’s on a undercover mission to get the skull
          (The false Viscountess —lady in salmon— at the auction was also working for the baron)

          So Claude escapes but there is another mysterious person looking for the skull; it’s Madame Chesterhope, and she’s sent the magpies to steal it. The magpies are from another dimension, they are famous stealers.
          Claude encounters the magpies on their mission. He’s captured in an energy labyrinth they have set on the island temporarily, to cover their tracks.

          Meanwhile, Sha and Glo have arrived. Dory wanted to go but she couldn’t find the airline (bag lady)…
          And Mavis later explains in a comment (555) how they all got involved in that adventure. She takes some time to convince her husband, and get to go to Tikfijikoo too. During the flight correspondence, she gets to know Paquita and Joselito.

          On the island, the Dr is losing it seriously. He talks to the dead mummy, and had blond wig and stuff.
          V’ass is reacquainting herself with the Italian of her secret organization, to report on the Dr. (insert steamy sex scene :)) ) )

          Dory is back at Gib, with Dan and young Becky and later, her friends Yurick and Yann came to visit; go see Salitre :)
          She has knowledge of Leo and Bea (Fletcher) – at whose place there are skulls too.

          On the island, everything starts to get crazy; since Sha and Glo arrived
          The magpies are ready to strike as a cyclone is coming.
          Claude has recovered his memory and is no longer mad; but he’s still trapped and tries to find an escape in a strange tree. He goes into another dimension, the giant spiders’ one.
          In this dimension there are a few human survivors. There is young Anita, and her mummified parents, but still alive from a plane crash; and a stranded soldier from WWII, named “Akita”, who’s got a spirit dog with him he’d found on the spider island.
          They somehow managed to survive in the giant spider’s jungle (the island is on top of a sort of Bermuda triangle).

          Anita is in communication with our four essences, who can manifest easily in this spider dimension and our essences are aware of an dimensional gate opening (the cyclone).
          All this people get together and succeed in escaping through the wortex.

          So now, that explains the people around the campfire on Tikfijikoo. It was all relatively brief, during the storm, where the others were sheltered on the facility (thanks to V’ass who cared for the careless Sha and Glo)

          Sha and Glo find out the magpies trying to pry the computer open where the skull is hidden; they crush the magpies with coconuts bra slings (exit the magpies in purple blood ;)) )
          They find the strange crystal skull they mistakenly think is some apparatus like an UV lamp. They take it to the UV room and plug it; it starts to project all sorts of lights
          They want to dance, because it’s like a disco.

          Meanwhile, one giant spider has managed to sneak through the portal, and goes close to them, but she gets sidetracked by the lightened skull and gets shrunk to a small size… and gets crushed by Sha and Glo (they’re the heroines of the day, but they don’t know squat ;)) )

          There is also a honeycomb subplot with a man named Jarvis on the island, with beehives.

          Now: Sha and Glo are dancing, Mavis is going out attracted by the campfire, finding out the survivors (The campfire was there because it’s night, and Claude is wary of the island’s owners, because he was abducted and mummified). The Dr is mad as ever.
          The skull is in the UV room, but they don’t know what it is — only Madame Chesterhope and Claude are knowing (possibly Jarvis and V’ass); but Mme Chesterhope is flung into the ocean crashing into Mahiliki’s plane recently :))

          #1811

          In reply to: Synchronicity

          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            And after I read your comment, dear Flove, here what the cloud was saying:

            clear mind large birds making finally images distance

            :bounce:

            #1810

            In reply to: Synchronicity

            F LoveF Love
            Participant

              Just a bit more on JIb’s previous comment regarding the natural vision improvement synch …

              My optometrist left the area a few years ago and I have not had my eyes checked since then. A little while ago I decided I would like to find an optometrist who did not subscribe to the traditionally held views on the inevitable progression of eyesight, and would work with me to help me improve my vision naturally. I had no idea if there was anyone like that, have never heard of anyone in our area, however on impulse when I was in town one day wandered into an optometrist clinic and tentatively asked the receptionist. She straight away said they had an optometrist working there who was a “behavioural optometrist.”

              Well, you will love this Jib – his name is Mr Eagle.

              I have just had my appointment with him and he is delightfully wonderful. He has put me on to Jacob Lieberman to read up about as a first step.

              #1020

              “HAHAHA! it is your first step now. Let me just remind you that you need not play MY game, the game is yours, ever.” said Georges. “The direction you follow is your choice, and where I come from is not relevant to this conversation.”

              Becky read the random daily quote and thought: What incredibly perfect timing!

              #1015
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                Elizabeth was beginning to realize that there WAS no ‘end of the road’, no grand finale, no finish line. Whenever her characters appeared to be nearing the proposed grand point of the story, she found herself following another thread in the impossibly huge tapestry. Maybe she didn’t want it to end, or perhaps it was that there was no ‘point’, no end point to aim for, that it was all just a process, a continual weaving of marvelously coloured threads. Some threads were gaily coloured silks, some were rough and coarse, some were woolly and comforting, and others were plain and functional. There were threads of the most unusual and unexpected fibres, other worldly threads tying the myriad dimensions and chapters together somehow. It really was the most fabulously intricate and absorbing construction.

                #1014
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  “Oh just leave the reader to do the proof reading, Yurick! If ‘there are no accidents’ then a few misspellings or a bit of mangled grammar might contain a clue for someone somewhere, somewhen….
                  it might be best to leave them in. You never know, you know… and anyway, I have this funny feeling that the pages aren’t quite as officially fixed as we might be inclined to think. Not quite cast in stone, as it were….Don’t ask me what I mean, Yurick,” Dory said with a laugh, “Because I can’t explain it.”

                  Yurick knew better than to ask Dory to explain anything, and remained silent, with one eyebrow raised quizzically as Dory rambled on.

                  “It’s like the branches of a tree,” Dory continued, with a faraway look in her eyes. “The branches on a tree look like such a tangle, but they are all connected to the trunk ~ the roots might look like a hopeless tangle too, if we could see them, but they do know what they’re doing ~ feeding the trunk or the core which sprouts out all over the place. There’s a bird in the tree, hopping from branch to branch. Does he care if he hops from one branch to another? No! Imagine if the bird was so rigid that he had to hop all along one branch from start to finish before changing to another branch.”

                  “Hahahah,” Yurick laughed, “A Sumafi bird?”

                  “You might say the little bird is the present moment, free to hop onto any branch at any time, or even fly to another tree…” continued Dory, who hadn’t heard Yurick.

                  “Another tree?” asked Yurick with a mock pained expression. “I have enough trees on my plate already.”

                  “And the thing is with trees, there isn’t really a place to start hopping or a place to stop hopping, from the birds perspective.”

                  Dory turned to Yurick with a grin. “It’s a book that you can read from any starting point. No beginning, and no end… maybe we can have all the pages loose with no numbers on, sort of a do-it-yourself assembly…”

                  Yurick laughed, a trifle nervously, and asked Dory if she would like a cup a coffee.

                  #1013

                  Ahaha, don’t you think our dear Finn will die of exhaustion after 400+ pages of pooh-reading? Yurick said mischievously to Dory.
                  Well, she isn’t the one who’ll have to make the cross-referencing system Dory answered.

                  “Good point” Yurick was thinking…
                  “Let’s just not forget it would be for the fun of the adventure. Nothing else, no other constraint…”
                  “And in any case, nothing will happen before the Circle of Eights is crossed: 888 th comment on the 8 th of August 2008”
                  :face-grin:

                  #1012

                  Elizabeth just had a brilliant idea actually.
                  Why not just print her rumbled heap of scattered notes… just as it is. In four volumes if needed.

                  What Lemone was saying in his Words of Comfort for the Descended already?

                  It’s not the writer’s job to piece the stuff life is made of together, it’s the job of the reader.

                  “Bloody good point,” she’d be keoon saying.
                  Trust the reader to take what they want, read on impulse… Whatever or not… She had a feeling that in the future when people are reading her stuff, that it will make more sense to them than to current day average readers.
                  She was so leading-edge.

                  Of course, her editor would make a fuss, but he would have no other choice than recognize her genioos.

                  How exciting it all was.

                  #1010

                  She was squatting on the sand beach, near the now calm ocean. The light was so dim that she barely could see the devastation, shards of coconut and palm trees spread on the shore, but the sound of the ocean was soothing.

                  Aaah she had hold that pee for too long.

                  “MAaaAVIS!” That suave authoritative voice must have been Sha’s.
                  “COooOMING!” Tsk. One can’t have a pee alone…

                  While she was readjusting her two pieces bath suit, ready to come back to the improvised discotheque, her attention was caught by something on the beach. A fire?
                  She squinted her little beady eyes to discard any of the hallucinatory visions that sometimes she had.

                  “MA-VIS!”
                  BLODDY COMIN’!” a hint of exasperation. “Mrs Sharon Stone, you ain’t the queen here” she thought. “I can go look for adventure meself, if I want to”.
                  Besides, the fire didn’t seem to be too far away.

                  :fleuron:

                  With the darkness that made very difficult their progress, Akita had made them stop near the shore, where they would see any trouble coming and had ordered the small troop to collect twigs and bits of wood to light a fire.
                  The parents were still in a bit of a shock, and were staying with a blank gaze, looking with an air of wildness at the soothing sound of the waves. Anita was playing nearby, drawing things in the sand, muttering words to herself.
                  That was a good thing that Claude was there. Unlike the others, he seemed quite strong, and the adventure didn’t seem to have left him short of resources.
                  He had been on the island before, and had said they had to avoid the constructions, which were all owned by the same people.
                  For all that mattered, Akita wanted to get to the authorities as soon as possible, but he had to compromise: they would settle close enough to have a check around and see if it would be safe to go there.

                  In a minute, Claude had been roaming through the woods and had gathered a pile of wood. That guy was pretty amazing, Akita was thinking. Odd that he had retained his supernatural strength… At least, Akita had imagined that the guy’s strength was the result of the spider exposure, but now he started to doubt it. He had been sketchy to say the least around the circumstances of his presence.
                  As far as he himself was concerned, Akita wished he had retained somewhere his connection to Kay, wherever his spirit dog was. What the creature had said? That veils were thicker, but not impermeable… Or something around that.

                  I think they’re still hanging around

                  What? What did you say? But Anita didn’t answer. Perhaps his tired mind was imagining things.

                  With all that rain soaked wood, it would be difficult to get anything but smoke.

                  I’ve got a lighter Claude handed him an expensive ziraf that flashed moon reflection in his eyes.

                  Let’s get started then.

                  :fleuron:

                  What now?

                  A roaring sound of a flying thing startled Mavis, passing over her head.

                  Mmm… this island’s getting too crowded, me think. Must be another of Vessie’s guests… That gal sure’s got how to use her sex-apple.”

                  #1006

                  Bea sighed loudly, and dragged a tissue across her sweaty face. Leonora obviously hadn’t heard her, so Bea sighed loudly again.

                  What’s up with you now? asked Leo, who wasn’t really paying attention to Bea’s incessant whining.

                  Oh I dunno, I just don’t know what I want to do, Bea grumbled. My head’s in a fog. I’ve got hundreds of ideas, but I don’t want to do any of them badly enough to even think about starting anything. So then I try to sort a few thing out, you know, so I can bloody find things again, and I just end up with a big pile of bloody miscellaneous. It’s the bane of my life, all the miscellaneous stuff that defies categorizing. I should have been called Miss A. Laneous. I start to sort things out and then I get sidetracked; I never finish any sorting out, I just end up with more and more miscellaneous….her voice trailed off miserably.

                  Leo swiveled round in the computer chair, took off her glasses and glared at Bea. Bea, you know you always find what you need by trusting that you’ll find what you need when you need to find it. You’ve told me that time and time again. You’ve droned on and on about that, how you love finding ‘just the thing’ and ‘by accident’ and now you’re sitting there moaning and groaning because for some inexplicable reason ~ Leonora rolled her eyes ~ you think that having things neatly ordered would be a better way.

                  Well, it would be nice to be able to find what I’m looking for, Leo, Bea retorted.

                  Well if you found what you were looking for right away, you silly cow, you wouldn’t find all those other magical bloody surprises by friggen accident, now would you?

                  There’s no need to be rude, Bea said sniffily.

                  Now it was Leo’s turn to sigh. Why don’t you bugger off outside and find something to appreciate, you grumpy old bat. “Oh! look at this, Bea!” Leo exclaimed, “Look what I just found by accident!”

                  Leo swiveled the computer screen round so that her friend could see.

                  Illi sat up and surveyed her surroundings. The sky was a deep azure blue, the sun was making twinkling stars on the waters of the lagoon, a warm gentle breeze rustled the coconut palm leaves, and birds sang and twittered in the foliage. It was indeed idyllic, and Illi decided to simply enjoy it, while her new ideas formed into a reality.

                  Illi was enjoying a new found freedom in her contentment, in not pushing her energy in frustration, and meandered happily around the island taking mental snapshots of a thousand delightful and marvelous wonders, appreciating even the smallest most insignificant things. Time lost all sense of meaning: there were deep velvet indigo skies full of sequins, and there were abstract multicoloured sunrises and sunsets; there were cottonwool clouds in cartoon shapes suspended on a canvas of blue. It mattered not the day or night; there was no longer a sense of time passing, just a glorious collage of appreciation and beauty.”

                  Bea read the excerpt reluctantly, and harumphed.

                  Oh for Gut’s sake, Bea! Leo was getting exasperated. Try appreciating miscellaneous floundering fog then.

                  #1004
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    Becky was undecided. Add to the last entry? Or start another? Grinning wickedly, she started another.

                    Her second impulse selection was a slightly late coincidence, but a coincidence notwithstanding. It was about Sand Dragons . A Few days previously Becky had been to an auction. She bid for and won a first edition copy of Wisp magazine; it had cost her an arm and a leg, but she was delighted with her purchase. It would increase in value, and was a delight to read some of the first published articles of the many authors, poets, artists and photographers who would later become famous. The article about sand sculptures had reminded her of the T.R.A.P. day out.

                    Well, how about that! exclaimed Becky, reading the rest of the comment. Wish House is one of my most favourites, and I chose it by accident!

                    She read:

                    Illi used to play a game with Cranky (as she affectionately called nanny Chraddock) in the long months while her parents were away, called Wish House. Every room in the sprawling Elizabethan house was a different time and place, and the moment they entered the room they imagined themselves to be different people, in other times. Petunia Duster the maid loved to join in too; consequently not alot of housework got done, but with Gus and Flora always off travelling, nobody minded. Playing was, after all, so much more important than dust. In fact, a thick layer of dust made the rooms all the more mysterious and magical.”

                    Becky ran her finger along the dust on her desk and smiled.

                    OH! Becky jumped. I almost forgot to make a note of the number, now what was it? she mused, scratching her head. I think it was 171 :notepad:

                    Becky wondered whether or not to start another entry. Intuitively, she chose not to. Her third random choice was another synchronicity with the first edition of Wisp: it was about pyramids in Spain. The first edition of Wisp magazine was particularly valuable as it was the first mention in print of the discovery of the Iberian pyramid culture.

                    Number 835 she noted :notepad:

                    #1003
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      Well, what a coincidence! exclaimed Becky. Becky was choosing her I Ching story comments, not altogether sure (not in the least sure, really) how it worked, but enjoying the opportunity to do a few random impulse searches. She had been reading the blog archives of Stilly from the early part of the century, all about cactus, beetles, and the investigation into the cochineal trade, when she suddenly remembered the Reality Play deadline. Anticipating buckling down to some serious writing, Becky was delighted to find the I Ching game, and made her first random choice.

                      Well, what a coincidence! Becky repeated. It’s all about beetles!

                      Becky made a note of the number: 638. :notepad:

                      #998
                      ÉricÉric
                      Keymaster

                        “Okay,” Al started.
                        “At the essence of I Ching, is the notion that everything is mutable, and changes. Everything changes, except the law that says that everything changes.
                        “In many ways, the I Ching is like a book where the pages numbering change every time you start to read it. Not unlike our story composition.”

                        “I get that,” answered Tina, interested by what would come out.

                        “So,” Al continued, always disagreeably pondering, Tina would say. “usually, when people are drawing to read from the I Ching, they have six numbers that give an hexagram. And these numbers are carrying into them their potential change, which usually gives another hexagram to read.”
                        “In our stories, the entries have a fixed identity, which is given by the system; this is our starting point. For your comments, this is ’4-191-328’.
                        “But as everything evolves, our entries are given an order in the book; this order is changeable, and that’s what I will use for the second hexagram; in your case it’s ’2-151-223’.”
                        “If you say so…” Tina sighed, a bit lost.
                        “Oh, I’m inventing the rules as we speak,” Al said trying to reassure her somewhat.
                        “I don’t know if that makes me feel better” she said.

                        “Okay. Now, I need to create the hexagrams; hexagrams are defined by six straight or broken lines; zero or one, binary system. Here, Chinese usually use the convention that odd is straight, and even is broken… Ahaha, doesn’t seem to make sense, but odd is male, unbalanced into action, and is associated with single, straight things. Broken is paired, complete in reflection, unbalanced in passivity.”

                        “And I wonder when we actually start to hear something that makes sense?” whispered Tina, a bit crossly.

                        “Okay, the thing I see, is that I have trouble making one hexagram with seven numbers, ahaha”, Al laughed a bit embarrassed.

                        “Oh, then no point in wiggling like that” said Tina very sweetly, “Scrap any bit that bothers you”.

                        “Okay, anyway we can go deeper into them afterwards if needed; I’ll scrap the first number rather than the last, because you see, 2 and 4 are both even, and thus there is no mutation here.”

                        Original Mutation
                        8 ╌ 3 —
                        2 ╌ 2 ╌
                        3 — 2 ╌
                        1 — 1 —
                        9 — 5 —
                        1 — 1 —
                        4 ╌ 2 ╌

                        “So here we are, if we scrap the bottom one, we get…”

                        #983

                        Madame Chesterhope went to the garage, to get one of her preferred modes of transportation.
                        She had dressed for the occasion in black leather, shouting a spell in a hurry to the mirror which had been flippantly reflecting back at her some awfully podgy image. Voodoo mirrors weren’t the quality they used to be these days. Bloody buggers of Goblinkeas manufactors… She would have a word with them soon.

                        There it was. A shiny Farley Travinston motorbike.
                        With some magical modifications, of course, but it had retained overall form and purpose closely similar to the original design. How she loved those machines! She had started to gather them for centuries (in Earth way of counting time), and she could still remember her very first one, the wreck it was compared to this one
                        Of course, she had no use for them, but wasn’t that the point of decadent treasure piling up?

                        All geared up, she hopped on the seat, and started the trans-dimensional engine. Where was it already? Pacific island… That could sound like vacations she smiled to herself…

                        #972

                        The world at large seemed to be going out of whack, and yet, all things seemed more and more perfect to Yurick when he was observing how these sudden surges of unsettling energies where only skin-deep —unless of course people wanted to make them out of proportion, and have their fair share of drama.

                        It was after all, only a matter of vibration. It could be as easy as noticing the least tension in his body, and releasing it as soon as noticed. It didn’t have to be big; small improvements were actual improvements, and really, all that ever mattered.

                        So, on the whole everything was fine, and he was surprised at how much, despite the sometimes dreadful incidences that had reared their ugly heads the past few weeks, people he knew had been able to cope with them, and no less than embracing these usually deemed “ugly” extensions of people’s own vibrations.

                        Noticing a slight tension in his solar plexus as Yann was telling him some little flowers where appearing on the cherry tomato plant, he released it with a grateful sigh…

                        #970

                        When Veranassessee entered the room, looking for the guests, she was startled to discover the awful mess.

                        At first, she thought the cyclone Ycart may have been doing the wreckage, but soon she found out that no wall was gone, so it was obviously coming from inside the facility.

                        What the…

                        The super-calculator computer had been torn apart, and the electronic insides spread out everywhere.
                        The Confregration would be furious that all was left of their precious asset they entrusted the mad (mmm, mentally challenged) doctor to carry out his insane (err… unusual) experiments was a big pile of unworkable chunks.
                        She was thinking of how she could cover up that mess… given that the doctor was still probably reeling in frilly suspenders and silky dresses, she had time to clean up a bit. The Doc would probably won’t notice a difference, as megalomaniac as he was, he wouldn’t admit that a great part of his strides in his researches on spider genome were coming from the super-calculator…
                        That nose of a b… nurse Bellamy was probably cleaning up his drool, so she might have enough time to act.

                        Pushing aside a few coconuts, Veranassessee backed away suddenly…

                        A trail of purple blood now?

                        #962
                        TracyTracy
                        Participant

                          I’m worried about Al, Tina, said Becky. He’s really acting strange lately, have you noticed?

                          Noticed! Of course I’ve bloody noticed! exclaimed Tina.

                          Aw, Tina! Becky gave Tina a warm hug.

                          I don’t think he’s getting enough sleep, Becky, Tina continued. Like for example, you know what you were writing in the Reality Play about Becky and the clones? Well, he thinks it’s real! He thinks the babies are clones. He even thinks YOU’RE a clone, Becky!

                          Oh surely not, Tina! Ahahahah! Becky couldn’t help laughing.

                          It’s no laughing matter, Backy, said Tina reproachfully, but Becky’s laughter was infectious and Tina started to smile. Oh stop making me laugh! I’m worried!

                          A gurgling sound erupted from one of the baby Moses baskets. Those babies have such a sense of humour for such tiny things! said Tina, smiling down at the sunny smiling little faces.

                          Haha yes, when they’re not screaming with rage, laughed Becky.

                          Tina frowned. I wonder what Al sees when he looks at them?

                          What do you mean, Tina?

                          Well, didn’t you read Al’s last entry in the Play? Don’t ask me for a link, Becks, look it up yourself!

                          Becky rolled her eyes with mock exasperation. You mean about them being emotionless?

                          He’s reconfiguring their energy to fit his delusions, Becky. He’s becoming so immersed in the Play that he’s believing it’s real . It’s all a bit worrying, because he’ll be going on about dragons and mermaids in the apartment next, or talking chairs or something. I don’t know how to handle it.

                          Hey, I have an idea! Becky said. How about that doctor Muir?

                          #1920
                          TracyTracy
                          Participant

                            An accidental connection between Ancient Siberia, and India(Sri lanka/Vedic etc)

                            “Somaras is said to cause hallucinations and therefore the consumption of soma was permitted only during sacrifices. Somaras gave a sense of growing to gigantic size and possessing superhuman strength or experiencing visions of the gods coming down to join the worshippers on the sacrificial site. Even today a few brahmanic families who try to keep up the very ancient Vedic rituals make a rather bitter drink from a kind of wild rhubarb which they call soma The modern Somaras is not injurious, because the powerful hallucinogenic property of the original soma plant, was replaced by the ineffectual substitute that is used today. It is said that Somaras is similar to the agarics mushroom widespread in central Asia and the Himalayan forests.” jayaraman

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