Whenever I think about the happiest times or at least the most memorable times in my life, I'm always a storyteller in those. I remember when we were kids and lived in a joint family. Whenever there were fights at home (there were a lot of them... I grew up in a troubled household) I'd make up stories and tell them to my li'l siblings to distract them from what was happening outside. I also wrote them down painstakingly... i wish i had those notebooks now!
As a teenager I made stories about a crush I had and told them to my sis and my cousin. We'd have long sessions and I would think about scenarios that I could develop next. (Not that the crush ever got to know!). I played pranks and made up stories in phony letters to a cousin (of course all of us were in this together).
Work wise I was happiest when i was a trainer and could tell stories to people who could not get away from them (evil grin). I still make up stories in my head and sometimes i pen them down. Haven't hit on that one bright idea yet that'll make me a novelist, but i think i get by as a blogger!
It's such a closure to finally know what you must be.. and now that I've settled on this idea I guess gaurav will have better weekends :D
The route I usually take to office has these cloth factories tucked away behind non-descript facades. Sometimes, when I am late, I find it transformed. Half an hour's delay casts me in the middle of a sea of humanity.