Under the dimmed lights, along a quiet corridor of the hospital ward, a book was born.

What do you do when you could not sleep in the middle of the night? And you are at a place not your own home?

Between the years 2000 and 2007, there were many nights when sleep was a luxury for me. Even a short nap is a rare treat.

Whenever my parents get warded, I will spend the night at the hospital with them because I knew they will need me there by their sides.

And I have to be on my feet most of the time – to change their soiled diapers, feed them food and medications, sponge their feverish bodies, massage their aching limbs or just hold their hands to comfort them. Even whispering a prayer or two into their ears to ease their sufferings…..

By 10 o’ clock each night, the lights in the hospital ward would be off and there is nothing much I could do in the dark. When sleep could not come and this happened so very often, all I could do was to write and for this, I always have a pen and note-book with me in my bag.

On and off in those seven years,  I have managed to write more than two  hundred short stories under the dimmed lights along the quiet corridor of the hospital ward, when everyone was sound asleep and occasionally, a whimper or cry from some patients could be heard.

These writings  were mostly about the times growing up in 188 Hugh Low Street and things my parents told me when they were young and healthy. I wanted to remember them through words.

Today, I have compiled some of these short stories into a book called “The Stories of the Scissors Sharpener’s Daughter.”  To read what I have written on those lonely and quiet nights, please place your order for my book now. I am sure it will bring you a laughter or even a tear.