Wednesday, March 28, 2012


I remember reading somewhere that everyone has a story to tell. A story hidden beneath layers and layers of lies and broken promises.
If you unravel those ugly layers of lies and broken promises, there in the middle, you will find a little sigh.
This is the story of the little sighs that became words.
I am not a writer.
That begs the question, if I am not a writer, then what am I?
I am a woman, a strong woman, who hates the euphemistic description of strong woman often used by feminists that says, "I am a woman, hear me roar"
I have no voice to roar, for I am filled with sighs.

When the night is all quiet, often you can hear the dogs howling in the distance and if you listen close enough, you can hear a sigh, a soft sigh, a sigh that struggles to find its way out of the deep dark place that inhabits my mind, a sigh that competes with my tears, a sigh that is the beginning of the end.
If those sighs could tell their story,then there is a story to be told and that is the story here.
I am not a writer. I am a strong woman who is overwhelmed by all those soft sighs, those tiny little sussurations that wants their story to be told.


PancharaKutti:-) said...

Am so looking forward to read your novel sarah.

Vindys said...

Waiting waiting...
I know it was pain.. May be you felt tons more than what you can express with words. But living intense will make you a better writer I guess..
Best wishes..

Rosie said...

sarah...sooo waiting to hear ur story!!! been reading your blog for such a long tme...xoxo

Lusiru said...

Sarah, i've been reading your blog for a long time. Eagerly awaiting your book. Hope you get what you wish for!!

Sarah said...

Thank you all. I finished writing the book, but I am not ready to publish it yet. I want to edit it and I keep telling myself, it doesn't have to be perfect. It is just giving voice to the sighs.