top of page

Everyone has a story to tell!

“The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live,

mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the

ones who never yawn.”

- Jack Kerouac from his autobiographical novel “On the Road"


Everyone has a story to tell. I observe people I have never met in my life and wonder, What could their story be ? What do they do? What do they have to share?

I consider myself fortunate when I am given the opportunity to dive into their world and listen to their perspective on life and the journey they embark upon .

I am fascinated when I look around and observe people, I wonder what must be the life of the pizza delivery guy I just saw. Is he running late on time? Did he get a tip?

Or what could the possible life of a guy driving around in a new sports car be? Is he going to a meeting? What were his life struggles? What did it take to earn the car he owns now?

The reason I appreciate meeting new people is because they have so much to share and so much to be inspired by. Be it a cab driver describing his previous trip or the barber I go to telling me about his memorable days of apprenticeship. People continue to intrigue me regardless of their social strata. Although it looks like a trivial activity, with each tale told it’s always astonishing to know how our society has functioned over the centuries. There is a deeper meaning behind each layer unveiled.

I especially love listening to the stories my grandparents have in share for me. They would tell me about how they made bunkers during the Indo-Pak war or when they saw the first Prime Minister of India, Jawaharlal Nehru and even the humorous stories of my father’s childhood.

Each experience is a tale in itself, listening to one tale could end up changing your perspective towards life forever.

We must remember to be kind and appreciate each story lived.


Written by - Pratham Chawla

Recent Posts

See All

I am awake , wide awake. The oil in my lamp is slowly vanishing into thin air, my hair smell like fresh daisies and my hands …Empty! Empty as if someone was feasting on me. I have this sudden urge to

She is just like the moon, full of scars, imperfections and loneliness. Yet she shines the brightest amongst the empty flickers of surrounding stars. They all try to be her, making feeble attempts at

Where should I look for you, In the heart? Or the brain? In the artist's art? Or somewhere in the train? What should I do? Look for something new, Or let things brew? Should I stay? Well, a yes to tha

bottom of page