I look like the cyclone

I lived observing, analyzing, and taking risks. I watched those who chose to cling to the literal sense of customs and traditions as if they were a lifeline in this life. I watched those who chose to take risks in life's experiences, and I watched their management of the nature of those adventures and how they achieved their results. I watched those who chose religious commitment as the sole path to salvation, but I noticed the differences in schools in this regard: some were Sufi, some Salafi, some jihadi, some Muslim Brotherhood, and many others. I saw and analyzed the results of each choice on the personality of its owner and the extent of its influence on others. It was a general and focused state of observing experiences and stories, to weave the fabric that suited my makeup and aligned with my ambitions. Life is a very private thing, full of experiences and struggles. I lived it in all its minute details, observing its approaches and people, analyzing them carefully, and learning to respect distances with everyone; perhaps salvation lies in maintaining distances. But I've also taken a risk in everything I've done—a risk of a special kind, neither random, reckless, nor entirely calculated. It's a different kind of risk, one that can only be described in successive stories and glimpses of life, contained within pages like this book. These questions always remain for all those who journey through life: Are we journeying through life alone? How were our destinies shaped by these wondrous facts? And when did that happen? When do we realize the nature of life's messages? And how can we interact with them? How can exploiting coincidences play a role in pivotal moments in our lives? This book raises these questions and others, and along with them, offers insights into the answers—answers that the writer of these lines has witnessed and witnessed.