“I began to write and publish late in life. My poetry and stories I carried with me, kept in the shade of self doubt and procrastination, until I succumbed to their pleas. My poetry and prose were my people I kept chained, and like Moses, I set my people free. Now they are everywhere; read by a rainbow of cultures, beneath starlight and sunshine, and rain and snow.
They say wherever you’ve been, you leave a little piece of you behind. If so, and I believe it to be, then I’m in Madrid, Barcelona, London, Manchester, Patiala, Kolkata, Delhi, Jaipur, Tokyo, New York, amongst others, and cities I’ve never heard of, or in places I can’t pronounce. Paperback or ebook, I am everywhere, yet nowhere. Under a pillow, on a phone or tablet, in a satchel, maybe upon a shelf, leaning amongst names of giants, or stacked amongst a pile in a thrift shop, craving to be lifted and opened. Take me, I’ve a story to tell; of being everywhere, yet nowhere.”