A Stranger, A Thousand Stories
I do not know his name. I do not know where he comes from. I do not know what kind of life A Stranger has lived. As I looked at A Stranger through my camera lens I felt like I was looking at more than just A Stranger. I felt like I was looking at a lifetime of memories, struggles, victories and stories that nobody around A Stranger knew. We see strangers every day. On roads in markets on buses and in streets. Most of the time we do not even notice strangers. We pass by lost in our thoughts, our own destinations and our own problems.. Every once in a while a face catches your attention and makes you stop for a moment. This was one of those faces. The lines on his forehead were not wrinkles. They felt like pages of a book that had been written over decades. Every mark seemed to carry a memory. Every crease looked like it had a story behind it. As he sat there quietly surrounded by the noise of the market A Stranger seemed lost in his own world. People walked past A Stranger w...
