Who I am hardly matters, even without a name and a
face.
Gender or geographical location - which might be obvious from some of the posts - are of no importance; they have no
bearing whatsoever on how I think or feel, or what I might have to say.
Yet here I am – sharing my stories, through words and
through pictures, for anyone to read if they would.
“Why?” you might ask.
Stories, I believe, are important. They entertain, sometimes they educate, often
they simply help us pass the time (even if time does not require any such
help). Above all, they help us learn
more about the world around us, and about life in general. Most of all, they help us know our own selves.
So here is my attempt to tell those stories. I have no idea if they would make sense to
others, or if others would even take time to read them in the first place. But these are the stories that demand to be
told, and they shall not rest without being given a life.
Meet them, if you will.
Even better, share yours – as I have shared mine.
(The One refers to my spouse:
The Hound refers to my dog.
They might occasionally make an appearance in my posts.)
(The One refers to my spouse:
The Hound refers to my dog.
They might occasionally make an appearance in my posts.)
I would love to believe in myself more when i am failing in spite of giving my best....
ReplyDeletethat would me my story after all :)
Loved your posts - *unbiased*
That's such a courageous attitude to cultivate, Pratibha!
DeleteAnd thanks. :)