“But how could you live, and have no story to tell?” Dostoyevsky.
You see, I often wonder about people’s stories. When I meet people, there is always something about them that touches me in one or the other way. It can be the way they move, the smiles that never reaches their eyes, the tremor in their voice, the glow in their eyes.
During my travel, I have often come across intriguing, sad, and beautiful people on the road, and they have all these intriguing, sad and beautiful stories to tell. And, while we all might be smitten by those drool-worthy, 1M-likes-in-insta-desrving pictures from the beaches in Philippines and Thailand and Bahamas and all that, I believe a big part of travel is about the people you meet and the stories you hear. And, to me, stories can be of any kind. They don’t have to fall in to a genre or category. They find their own ways to reach you. Sometimes like a piece of old, worn-out memory that comes back to you, out of blue. And, sometimes they waft into your head, like an infectious joke, right then and there.
My plan is to write 1000 stories, and I am in no rush.
I want my fellow countrymen and countrywomen to hear the stories from around the world, and get to know different perspectives.