For years I have had this feeling that there are stories and poems within me (and hell no, I dont mean it like Rushdie or Orhan Pamuk) but yes, I feel there is a tale to be told.
In the past two days quite suddenly I have felt that undiluted germ of an idea rising in my brain. Where will that go? Am unsure. Its one thing to have a germ, and another to have to fight a disease.
Should start scribbling soon….
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