22 years ago, grandfather of one ordinary girl had a dream that a child would be born and he heard someone whispering in his ear that she would be Anna. So, the girl was born.  Anna. With a huge responsibility from the very beginning, for she was a first child for both her parents’ families and she should be a good example to follow for future 7 children who followed her. From the very beginning she associated her name with a responsibility, which strangely enough, didn’t bother her. Actually, it was vice versa.

In society she lived in, there was a kind of a rule that whoever was named Anna, was usually addressed by different versions of this name like Ani, Anuka, Anushki, etc.

This girl knew deep in her heart that people didn’t mean to “hurt” her by addressing so. In reality, the intention was kind in its roots. But, still, the girl had the feeling that people expected from her something she couldn’t give, like she was another person.

Probably, that’s why she naively thought that there could be a special bond with someone who called her by her real name. And, perhaps, that’s why she always thought of herself as a very reliable and loyal person, for she would never ever betray one who called her Anna.

This girl is me.

As you probably guessed, the muse of creativity has abandoned me, so with my uncreative mind, let me introduce myself. I am one who was born to love, read and (desperately try) to write literature.

The end.