Three Doors, Three Worlds: A Journey Through Storytelling
At Wordnama, our monthly book club dedicated to short fiction and book discussions, we’ve spent the past three months immersed in three wildly different but deeply compelling stories. From the bleak border of war in Saadat Hasan Manto’s The Dog of Tithwal, to the crumbling dread of Edgar Allan Poe’s The Fall of the House of Usher, and the surreal satire of Etgar Keret’s Lie Land—each story opened a door to a distinct world and a unique form of storytelling.
This trio of tales sparked some of our most thought-provoking discussions yet—touching on themes of human absurdity, psychological decay, and the elusive nature of truth. If you’re looking for a rich, contrasting reading experience, I highly recommend exploring these three stories this coming month. And as always, feel free to read along and reflect with us.
Discussion links are available at the end of this post.
“Lieland” by Etgar Keret
“Lieland,” a short story by Israeli writer Etgar Keret, delves into the consequences of habitual lying through its protagonist, Robbie. The narrative begins with Robbie experiencing a dream about his deceased mother, who expresses boredom in the afterlife and requests a gumball from him. This dream prompts Robbie to recall a lie he told about a paralyzed dog, among many other fabrications throughout his life. Intrigued, he visits a place called “Lieland,” a surreal realm where all his past lies have materialized into reality. In Lieland, Robbie encounters the very characters and scenarios he fabricated, such as the paralyzed dog and other figments of his imagination. This confrontation forces him to reflect on the impact of his dishonesty. The story reaches a turning point when Robbie meets Natasha, another individual whose lies have manifested in Lieland. Together, they contemplate the nature of their falsehoods and the possibility of creating more positive, harmless lies in the future. His lies still weigh heavily on him. It’s almost equivalent to sinning. Perhaps that’s also why he lacks the courage to manifest the reality of marrying Natasha in real life. In the “lie land,” it’s safe, easy, and convenient, a space where he knows his truths are guaranteed to manifest without resistance.
The central theme of “Lieland” revolves around the tangible consequences of lying. Keret illustrates that lies, regardless of their perceived insignificance, can accumulate and create a complex web that one may eventually have to confront. The story suggests that while lies might serve as convenient escapes or solutions in the short term, they have the potential to manifest in unforeseen ways, compelling individuals to face the realities they’ve fabricated. Additionally, the narrative touches on themes of accountability, the blurred line between reality and fiction, and the human tendency to fabricate stories to navigate life’s challenges.
Setting the Stage: Cigarettes, Childhood, and Coping
Robbie’s mother’s casual request to buy her a pack of cigarettes reminds us of a time when it was normal, even expected, for children to run errands like buying “king-size Kents,” a popular cigarette brand in the mid-to-late 20th century.
This one detail roots us in a particular socioeconomic and cultural backdrop. It paints Robbie’s mother as a woman hardened by circumstance, perhaps dependent on smoking as a coping mechanism. It also reflects Robbie’s upbringing in a financially struggling household—where navigating adult issues at a young age may have driven him to find refuge in small, convenient lies.
Lying, then, became a form of survival.
“What if your lies came to life?”
Etgar Keret’s short story “Lieland” begins with this unsettling premise—and ends with a deeper, more introspective question: What happens when the lie becomes more comforting than the truth?
The Lies We Wear: Black-Tie Lies and Lies That Steal
Keret distinguishes between “black-tie lies”—polished, socially acceptable deceits—and “lies that could steal,” ones that rob others of joy, trust, opportunity, and sometimes even innocence.
Take Robbie’s lie about the paralyzed dog. On the surface, it seems harmless. But in Lieland, where every lie is given form, it becomes a haunting reminder of the emotional weight he has carried—and inflicted.
We are reminded that a lie can be a performance, dressed up in a tuxedo, or a theft, robbing someone else of a moment, a truth, or a dream.
In essence, “Lieland” serves as a metaphorical exploration of the landscapes our lies can create and the inevitable reckoning with the truths we’ve distorted.
The Dog of Titwal is a short story set on the India-Pakistan border, where soldiers from both sides face each other on identical hills, in a largely uneventful and routine conflict. Amid this tense yet stagnant standoff, a stray dog wanders into the Indian camp. Jamadar Harnam Singh ties a note around its neck, declaring it an Indian dog named Jhun Jhun, knowing it will cross over to the Pakistani side.
The Pakistani soldiers rename it Shun Shun and claim it as theirs. The dog continues to move between the two camps, soon becoming a symbol of mockery and misplaced nationalism. Suspicion and irritation rise. One day, as the dog returns from the Pakistani side, both camps open fire on it, ultimately killing it. Jamadar Harnam Singh shrugs off its death as meaningless, saying the dog “died a dog’s death,” while Subedar Himmat Khan from the other side mourns, calling it a martyr.
I believe that to analyze the story effectively, we must first understand its context—the setting in which it was written. It was when one of the soldiers called the dog a ‘refugee’ that I felt compelled to research the background of the story.
The story was written soon after the 1947 Partition of India. Millions were displaced, crossing borders between the newly formed India and Pakistan. People were often labeled as “ours” or “theirs” based on religion, not identity.
I think, in that sense, the dog being called a refugee mirrors those displaced people—stateless, nameless, and caught between opposing sides.
Just a quick note before we begin—while we might feel inclined to draw parallels to current events, let’s try to stay rooted in the context in which The Dog of Tithwal was written, because the story has its own historical and emotional setting.– post – partition, a very specific time in history that shaped Manto’s voice and purpose.
The “India Zindabad” Moment – Why does the dog freeze?
There’s a scene when the dog, enjoying a cracker, hears a soldier shout “India Zindabad!” (Long live India), and instead of reacting with joy, it freezes, and tucks its tail. Harman Singh laughs and says, “Why are you afraid of your own country?”
The interpretation could be that it reacts not as “Indian” or “Pakistani,” but as an animal afraid of aggression.
→ It might show how ideologies don’t make sense to those not caught up in them.
The futility of war could be the heart of Manto’s message. The dog, voiceless and harmless, is caught in the crossfire only because he crossed imaginary boundaries. Even in death, he becomes the subject of sarcastic remarks – one side calls it martyrdom, the other says he dies a dog’s death. The contrast reflects the meaningless glorification and casual cruelty often present in war. It highlights how even something as innocent as a dog can become a symbol, then a target, all to maintain the illusion of war.
The war also breeds an emotional numbness in soldiers. The soldiers are resigned to their own deaths or have become emotionally detachedfrom it and therefore become indifferent to the death of the dog. For a soldier, death is always close, lurking quietly in the background, impossible to ignore or escape. There’s no reverence attached to it and therefore, they come across as unsympathetic or even indifferent toward the dog’s suffering. It reflects how war affects people, turning them numb even to the loss of innocent life. So for me, that casual attitude toward death adds another layer to the story’s commentary—not just on war, but on the emotional cost it exacts on those who live in its shadow.
One of the most touching layers of the story is its quiet nostalgia. When the soldiers hum old folk songs or tunes from back home, it’s a reminder that beneath the uniform, they’re still human—connected to their memories, families, and culture. These small, intangible things—songs, memories—become their emotional anchor in a life that’s otherwise harsh and detached. Manto brings this out subtly, but beautifully. It shows that even though soldiers may have accepted death as part of their duty, their hearts still long for the world they left behind.
The Fall of the House of Usher by Edgar Allan Poe is a gothic short story that follows an unnamed narrator who visits his childhood friend, Roderick Usher, at the Usher family mansion. The house is eerie and decaying, almost as if it has a life of its own.
Roderick is suffering from intense psychological distress, and his twin sister, Madeline, is gravely ill. When Madeline apparently dies, Roderick buries her in the family vault beneath the house. However, it turns out she was buried alive. She reappears, leading to both her and Roderick’s death in a final moment of horror.
As the narrator flees in terror, the mansion itself collapses, symbolizing the literal and figurative fall of the Usher family line. The story blends elements of madness, decay, and the supernatural to explore themes of fear, isolation, and the power of the human mind.
The story reminds me of another tale and the only other story I remember of Poe called The Cask of Amontillado. It’s about a man who tricks his enemy into going down into an old underground burial tunnel/vault and then traps him there forever.
A classic whodunit set in a country manor, The Murder Game by Tom Hindle delivers modern twists with old-school charm.
Book Review: The Murder Game by Tom Hindle
A Modern Whodunit with a Classic Twist
Every now and then, a book promises to take you back to your reading roots. The Murder Game by Tom Hindle did just that for me. Right there on the cover, it claims Hindle is the “new heir to Agatha Christie.” Naturally, I was intrigued. After all, I spent many of my school days devouring Nancy Drew mysteries. Somewhere along the way, though, I drifted away from the murder mystery genre—caught up in short stories, romance fiction, and everything in between. You know how it goes!
But this one… this one caught my eye. I won’t say it was unputdownable (in fact, I had to push myself to keep going at times). Still, I’d challenged myself to finish it before our book club meet, and I’m glad I did. It turned out to be a rewarding read.
The Premise
Set in a classic country manor, The Murder Game revolves around—yes, you guessed it—a murder that happens during a game night. It’s everything you’d expect from an Agatha Christie-style whodunit but with a modern flavor. A closed environment, a cast of suspicious characters, hidden backstories, and a killer on the loose.
What Worked for Me
One of the first things I appreciated was the language. Hindle keeps it simple and accessible—no heavy prose or complicated narratives to wade through. And as someone who mostly reads Indian and American novels, I found the British phrases and idioms refreshing. They gave the story a distinct charm and authenticity.
The second half of the book was where things really picked up. As you dive deeper, you uncover the tangled backstories of the guests. Suddenly, everyone seems tied together in unexpected ways. And just when you think you’ve got it figured out—bam! A second murder takes place. Right under everyone’s noses, when they’re all supposed to be in the same room. That twist had me sitting up, thinking, “Wait, who wasn’t there? Who could’ve slipped out without anyone noticing?” Classic misdirection. Cleverly done.
What Didn’t Work So Well
The pacing, especially in the first half. I found myself 250 pages in, still waiting for things to really happen. If you prefer fast-paced thrillers, you might find it a bit slow going in the beginning. But hang in there—the payoff is worth it.
Final Thoughts
If you enjoy classic murder mysteries where you get to play detective, The Murder Game is a solid pick. It’s not flawless, but the satisfying conclusion makes up for the slower start. Think modern Agatha Christie vibes—perfect for a cozy weekend read, preferably with a hot cup of tea in hand.
The Jaipur Literature Festival (JLF), held from January 30 to February 3, 2025, at Hotel Clarks Amer in Jaipur, is one of India’s most renowned literary festivals and a globally celebrated event. It brings together writers, thinkers, and speakers from around the world, offering a melting pot of ideas, storytelling, and intellectual discourse.
These platforms provide a unique opportunity to engage with literature, culture, and communication at its finest.
Attending JLF with a fellow Toastmaster added an entirely new layer to the experience. We weren’t just absorbing the content of the sessions—we were actively dissecting the speakers’ communication styles, analyzing how they articulated their thoughts and presented themselves on stage.
Take Manu S. Pillai, for instance. A historian known for his works like The Ivory Throne, Pillai’s expertise in history was undeniable, and the depth of his knowledge was remarkable. However, the sheer volume of information that he effortlessly shared at once, felt overwhelming at times, and the rapid delivery sometimes made it difficult for those unfamiliar with the subject to fully absorb and process everything.
In contrast, Vayu Naidu, a storyteller and novelist, had a more elegant, engaging style. Her storytelling was immersive, drawing listeners in and making them feel compelled to pick up her book. Watching these speakers made us realize how much the way we present ourselves can influence whether our audience is drawn in or left behind.
Shashi Tharoor, an author and politician known for his eloquence, lived up to expectations with his signature charm. The moment he stepped onto the stage, the audience erupted with excitement, occassionally even overshadowing the presence of Ikigai co-author Francesc Miralles.
However, the moderator handled the situation with remarkable finesse. Sensing the audience gravitating more toward Tharoor, she swiftly balanced the energy by acknowledging both speakers equally, ensuring Miralles wasn’t overshadowed.
Her ability to pick up on the room’s vibe and adjust accordingly was a masterclass in moderation—a perfect example of how a good moderator ensures balanced and engaging discussions, making every speaker feel valued and every conversation more wholesome.
Jaipur Literature Festival
Andrew Hogan, editor of the London Review of Books, was another standout speaker. We appreciated how he fielded questions—not just answering them generically but engaging deeply, elaborating with examples, and substantiating his responses with personal experiences. He ensured that every interaction was insightful, leaving the audience with something valuable to take away.
Jassa Ahluwalia, a British actor and writer, was one of the younger and more dynamic speakers. He began his session by playing an Instagram clip before launching into his speech, a brilliant way to capture attention and set the tone for his presentation. It was a reminder that how a speaker opens their talk can set the stage for the entire session.
Sudha Murthy, an author and philanthropist, in her usual heartwarming style, proved once again why she has such a devoted following. Her storytelling, particularly appealing to children, was effortless yet impactful. Her matter-of-fact responses and deep humility resonated with the audience, proving that authenticity and relatability can be just as powerful as eloquence.
When Ira Mukhoty spoke about The Lion and the Lily: The Rise and Fall of Awadh, she didn’t just recount historical events—she brought them to life. Instead of relying solely on words, she used a set of slides with *vivid images*, helping the audience see the world of Awadh, not just hear about it.
This technique is a powerful tool for any speaker. Why? Because visuals create an *instant emotional connection*. They allow listeners to relate to characters, settings, and events, making history feel like a story unfolding before their eyes.
Attending a literature festival with a fellow Toastmaster isn’t just about enjoying great conversations—it’s about sharpening our communication instincts.
Observing these speakers made us reflect on our own speaking styles, reinforcing that a great speech isn’t just about knowledge but also about how it’s presented. Speaking and writing are deeply intertwined, and as we refine one, we elevate the other.
Years ago, my sister gifted me this book for my wedding, yet I’ve only managed to delve into its pages now.
The journey of Kristen and Rabih, the American couple, resonates deeply with my husband and me, mirroring many of our experiences.
The book’s ability to capture the nuances of a long-term partnership so accurately, at least from my perspective, suggests it might offer insights that could resonate with a broader audience.
Each reader will likely discover a counterpart within either of these characters, finding their own struggles and triumphs mirrored in the pages. This sense of universality creates a feeling of inclusion and belonging in a larger community of readers.
The first few pages can be a surprise; we don’t usually expect a love story to be in an interpretative format. However, as the story progresses, this unconventional approach reveals itself as the book’s saving grace, sparking intrigue and opening our minds to a new way of storytelling.
The true essence of a couple’s relationship emerges once the initial allure of courtship fades. The central figures, Rabih and Kristen, embody anyone embarking on a relationship journey or navigating an existing one. Author Alain de Botton intricately weaves them into the fabric of typical everyday scenarios couples encounter, exploring the underlying motivations behind their actions and behaviors. Through their trials and triumphs, he adeptly steers us towards a more profound comprehension of our relationships, advocating for empathy towards ourselves and our partners as a pathway to genuine happiness.
“Romanticism is a philosophy of intuitive argument. In real love, there is no need to articulate or spell things out tiresomely. When two people belong together, there is simply, at long last, a wonderous reciprocal feeling that both parties see the world in precisely the same way.” – Alain de Botton from ‘The Course of Love.’
Here’s a breakdown of the concept within the passage:
Intuition Over Logic: Intuitive argument values gut feelings, instincts, and emotions more than structured, logical debate. It’s about sensing and feeling the rightness of a connection rather than proving it through words.
Unspoken Understanding: In a romantic relationship characterized by intuitive argument, partners may believe they have a unique, almost magical bond that doesn’t require verbal articulation. They “just know” what the other is thinking or feeling.
Contrast with Real Love:
The author contrasts the idealized notion of love portrayed in art with “real love,” emphasizing that in genuine relationships, there isn’t a constant need to articulate or explain feelings meticulously. This understanding doesn’t stem solely from intuition but rather from a profound, mutual connection built on clear communication and shared experiences. The implication is that true relationship understanding is cultivated through active and open communication rather than relying solely on unspoken intuition.
Rethinking Marriage Expectations
Botton suggests that in the past, people aimed to settle down once they achieved financial and social stability. However, influenced by romantic notions, emotional qualities such as finding a soulmate, feeling wholly understood, and staying faithful become more significant as marriage progresses. Yet, after his bittersweet experiences and years of navigating love, Rabih believes these ideals often lead to disappointment. He argues that readiness for marriage comes when one lets go of searching for a perfect partner. Only over time, as we allow others to let us down potentially, can we truly understand them.
“The facts of life have deformed all of our nature. No one among us has come through unscathed” – Alain de Botton from ‘The Course of Love.’
Key Takeaways
Choosing a life partner hinges on accepting the challenges we are prepared to confrontrather than assuming we can evade the complexities of emotional life.
Love stories begin not with fear of rejection but with the choice to be together willingly and unreservedly, wanting to stay together
Botten emphasizes how vital communication is for building relationships. He says that good communicators are confident because they know their worth. They can express their thoughts clearly, even if their ideas are unconventional or unpopular, without doubting themselves. They believe that with patience and creativity, they can win others’ goodwill.
The author also argues that good listeners are just as critical as good speakers in the context of a marriage. Both need the confidence to handle difficult or unexpected information calmly. A skilled listener stays calm even when faced with unsettling news, showing resilience and staying balanced. They understand that disturbances pass and trust that things will settle down again.
“It’s rare to embark on an affair out of indifference to a spouse. One generally has to care a lot about a partner to bother betraying them.” – Alain de Botton from ‘The Course of Love.’
These lines suggest that it usually takes significant emotional investment in the relationship to feel motivated to betray them. In other words, betrayal often stems from caring deeply about the partner rather than not caring at all.
Emotional Homecoming –
It will be counterintuitive to think of ourselves as mad, but it helps to accept that we are all flawed and that it’s not the individuals involved in this partnership who are to be blamed; it is, in fact, the institution of marriage that is principally Impossible.
As Rabih knows now, romantic ideas are a recipe for disaster!
Rabih is ready for marriage because he’s willing to prioritize giving love rather than receiving it.
According to the book, there are three myths surrounding love –
First Myth:
The belief that desiring to be loved is more innate than loving others is a myth. In reality, this belief can be unnatural and risky because it places control in the hands of others.
Second Myth:
The idea is that our partners can fulfill roles similar to our parents. In truth, they cannot always anticipate our needs, intuitively understand our emotions, or solve every problem.
Third Myth:
The assumption is that sex will always seamlessly integrate with love. In reality, this is not always the case.
De Botton also argues that the issue lies not with life but with art.
Aesthetic representations often impose unrealistic expectations about how our love stories should unfold, influenced by love songs, poetry, and movies. This leads us to compare our relationships to these idealized standards constantly.
Instead, he suggests consuming narratives that accurately depict real-life experiences. These stories acknowledge the difficulties and challenges of love while also offering hope. They do not promise perfect understanding but normalize the struggles, helping us maintain hope and perseverance in our own journey of love.
The idea of happiness in love –
In the ‘Course of Love,’ happiness comes in tiny incremental units and will continue to come that way. You might not call yourself a happy man or woman, but it is OK to call yourself an ordinary human being passing through a small phase of contentment.
Everyday heroism –
Towards the end, the author posits that living a mediocre life offers fewer opportunities for heroism than an epic tale, yet it holds its quiet significance. Serving the family, ensuring financial stability, supporting the marriage’s survival, and fostering children’s flourishing are profound everyday heroism. This perspective underscores the value of ordinary life, highlighting that true heroism can be found in the steady and devoted fulfillment of familial duties.
“Love is a skill, not just an enthusiasm.” – Alain de Botton.
I read ‘The Cat Person’ posted on New Yorker sometime back and it’s a story you feel compelled to read in one go. I liked it because it was contemporary, realistic and feminist. In spite of its American setting/backdrop, it had a universal appeal. The theme was loud and clear – The power imbalance between older men and younger women dating each other.
It also highlights the concept of consensual sex – how there can still be elements of emotional molestation and superiority and subjugation, falling heavy on female assertiveness.
There were layers of following sub-themes too –
Dynamics of coercion
the highly manipulative and self-delusionary phase of early courtship,
Margot is scared of being judged by her boyfriend. She is aware of the storm that would follow if she breaks up with him on the grounds of bad sex. To her horror, the guy does not take the rejection on a casual note and abuses her verbally, pestering her, flooding her phone with mean messaging! No matter how much we advance in this constantly changing landscape of technology, space and astronomy, our fundamentals of a happy survival remain flawed, which starts with the relationship with the women around us.
A young woman in the age of her so-called independence, belonging to the era past feminism and modernism, still feels savaged and besotted by the technology and her relationship with a man.
Other facts about “Cat Person” by Kristen Roupenian –
Cat Person went on to get more than 4.5m hits and become the most-read piece of online fiction the New Yorker has published and has also been prosecuted as part of a ‘man-hating liberal agenda’ by many on social media.
Roupenian’s short story collection – ‘You know You Want this’ has won Roupenian a reported $1.2m advance and is being adapted into an HBO series. The stories work in the theme of – ‘the extent to which men rejected by women hate women, and women rejected by men hate themselves.’
Following a mentor’s suggestion to read autobiographies/memoir of the heroes to capture the intricacies of their lives and learn the lessons they did the hard way, I came across ‘Room of one’s own’ – which wasn’t autobiographical but rather a literary critical essay on women fiction writers during 1920s. It falls under highly recommended reading for artists, literature history lovers, students of English literature, women writers and in general for all those simply needing an inspiration to write. Virginia Woolf, after a thorough research on women and fiction wrote this book as a ‘stream of consciousness.’
Why read it in today’s times?
As a piece of feminist writing, focusing on the problems of a woman writer belonging to a previous era, is the book worth reading?
Woolf’s use of language and intelligence has been highly influential on English literature and she is one of the foremost modernist literary figures of the twentieth century. For the writers learning to polish their strokes, not only reading but a study of some of Woolf’s work certainly proves valuable.
This book in particular talks about the genius of Bronte sisters, about English novelist George Eliot, how brilliant these writers were to be able to perform and produce sheer pieces of brilliance, working in extreme constraints, even hiding the fact that they were writing fiction, frightened to express their fondness towards the art, covered their writing with a blotting, for the shame of wasting their time with “scribbles” being a woman (as Jane Austen did whenever someone came into the common room), wrote in the living room with thousand practical distractions, ten children to look after, as the line was so predominantly considered a male profession.
George Eliot had to write under a male title for acceptance of her work. These harsh facts open our eyes to the atrocities that women writers and women in general faced as a fairer sex in Woolf’s era and prior. As an Asian community, the revelations surprise us because for us the West has always stood for freedom, expression and liberty and the violence and injustice done to women even if in a different era, the kind still prevalent in Indian societies, makes the read relevant enough for the artists and their male and female counterparts.
A female writers’ essential space
With the imaginary example of William Shakespeare’s sister, assuming she is equally talented as him, Woolf reasons, it’s not the difference of physical strength that had led historically, more work of writing from men than women. Her analysis of old literature and the basic gender roles discovers that men are at an advantage of space, money and education. In her quest to conquer the literary world of 16th century, this imaginary character of Shakespeare’s sister is blocked at every step by the society for being a female aspirant of writing.
So, it raises a point that for such female aspirants of writing, independence and solitude are essential for artistic creation. She needs a room of her own, money to buy herself that and a lock on the door.
The Conclusion
The conclusion of the book does satisfy the believers of feminism –
“It would be a thousand pities if women wrote like men, or lived like men, or looked like men, for if two sexes are quite inadequate, considering the vastness and variety of the world, how should we manage with one only? Ought not education to bring out and fortify the differences rather than the similarities?”
She also concludes that each human has a multifaceted personality and that each artist must draw from both male and female parts of the mind.
“In each of us two powers preside, one male, one female… The androgynous mind is resonant and porous… naturally creative, incandescent and undivided.
And most importantly she insists to write freely without any fear of judgement.
Relevance of the text to a modern female writer
Apparently what appears to be a minor attribute – having a space of one’s own, raised in the context of women writers’ quintessential need, something that a modern female writer might choose to laugh at -becomes a thought of serious consequence.
The space here has metaphorical context of literal-physical and mental arrangement a woman needs to write well. She needs to be free from the anxiety about the eligibility and trustworthiness of that ‘someone’ who is looking after her kids and household while she writes, at least till the time her children become independent. That’s when she can completely surrender to the world of her creative abilities and the magic it begets. A modern female writer too cannot choose to laugh at this one after all, as the problem is still very much relevant for her.
My personal account
When I wrote only as a hobby, I had to many times hide the fact that I am writing for the fear of being caught in doing something menial, something that is not paying one in money. I waited for the room to be empty as directly telling someone to leave for my writing in private, might be considered hysterical. I couldn’t design my own time and in stead my time of writing was decided at the mercy of others. I never openly discussed with my family how writing relieves me and is so beyond a hobby. When I started writing for Times and took to teaching as a job, many times in the alibi of working for my employers, I wrote my heart out. My excuse was now eligible for consideration.
Few years back although, during one of our evening walks, I explained to my husband and my sister, how imagining my routine days without some pleasure writing, would be difficult for me and how the regret would hover around when I am older, they took my earnest appeal in consideration and not only could I make time for doing what I loved to do but stood tall with motivation (motivation was never something I thought I would be needing so much because of the lapse in practice!).
While it might not be so simple for many other female counterparts, it still makes sense to discuss about one’s passions and desire to pursue a hobby, and if it is writing, about the ‘space’ one very much needs for her muse.
This book can give confidence to so many women wanting to express their unheard voices through their ink.
