I grew up listening to stories told to me by my father, grandmother and my friends. Being an introvert except for my sister, characters from these stories were my best friends. I could hold conversations with those friends of mine for hours together. Gradually with time all my friends vanished and I was left with stories which no longer made sense to me, but they still remained stories.
May be tomorrow my life itself may sound like a story for others. In fact every one lives in a story, may it be my father, mother, sister, friends, Lenin, Einstein, beggar , it could me any body on this earth, they all live in stories, because stories are all there to live in, it is just a question of which one to choose....
