Aug 171999
 

painting

Dedicated to Stan Schaap, the good news network, and all who share.

Ursula Mistry, born on 3rd September, 1929 in Berlin, lives in Bombay, India. She always had a bent for reflection and contemplation, which, by the way, often got her into trouble at home.

“Why are you making such a sour face again?” her Mother shouts, when in fact Ursula is floating on cloud nine, perfectly happy. Brought back to earth she will then predictably burst into tears. It’s a hard life, this.

Ursula has always been writing, and has never had trouble with reports, notices, minutes, business correspondence. She has no trouble writing articles and private letters, but is very tardy at posting anything.

This may be because the first chapter of what might have been her first novel landed in the old iron stove.

She had forgotten. Recently her brother reminded her. Then she virtually saw all those full-scale pages curling up in the red-yellow flames.

She had meant no harm. The novel was about a little girl exchanged at birth. It was fiction! It’s a hard life, this.

She now realizes that she must have been a fairly difficult child – meek, mild and obliging, but a bit of a stranger, not really ‘at home’. .

She was lucky her mother was very well read. At the age of two Ursula knew all the fairy stories by heart and suffered no repetitions. So her mother told her stories about Eskimos and Red Indians, and Tibet and Mexico and Pyramids and icebergs.

In school she was popular because she could at the drop of a hat supply one or two extra essays. (She stopped that practice when the teacher started giving higher marks on the ones she had written for others.)

She is not sure whether she fancies unstructured, nonlinear approaches because she does not know what exactly this means. Spontaneity is something not very nice, but nobody yet succeeded in breeding it out of her.

Writing is an activity which she loves best. All her life she has been searching for others with whom she can share ideas. She was content as long as she could HEAR and was able to lend a sympathetic ear to others. But now that she is almost deaf (runs in the family) she suddenly wants to TALK. Her real learning started a few weeks ago when she finally got onto the net.

She is not a native speaker of English but loves the language and is in no way apologetic for using it whichever way she likes.

Right now Ursula enjoys her work of putting the finishing touches on a little book called “Adventures on the Internet”, so that others who are still scared of computers (and there are many!) can take heart and jump into Yahoo or wherever.

This incidentally, is not Ursula’s idea. She appears to be led, driven, drawn and gently pushed into to the web pages her guides feel most appropriate for the purpose of sharing.

She is delighted with the Secret Sacred Story she’s found and with freed schmitter’s permission to share it. It is just the right thing for her friends in Ooty, down south India in the Nilgiris. PEACE.