--they were old , he spent his early morning time near the pomegranate groves, throwing handfuls of grains for the birds, which lived in the trees, they all descended chirping, he would from a distance on his wooden bed sit watching them, their noise brought life to his life, his wife equally elderly ahmedi khanam wept for the lost happy days , when they would cook endless dishes in the huge kitchen for a large family, never stopping , when all the meals were cooked yet one more item of carrot pudding on slow fire was placed , stirring it , times change with the attitude of relationships one gets used to , now only a small stove was there for them to cook food on, silence was killing , birds filled their life with some cheer
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