in July 1942, thirteen year old anne frank and her family, fleeing the horrors of nazi occupation, went into hiding in an Amsterdam warehouse. Over the next two years Anne vividly described in her diary the frustrations of  living in such confined quarters. anne frank's diary, a monolouge to katie, remains the single most poignant true-life story to emerge from the second world war. Anne herself, however did not live to see it published. it was written for herself.

dear readers, some of you may have realised that i have changed my pen name. this is not because i want to hide my identity, but because it is my tribute to Anne's fifteen year old spirit. i read somewhere that 'some people are more powerful dead then alive'. anne was one such person.

it is not that others did not die in this war, from both sides. it is just that Anne's name and story lived on. when i read her story, it was  as a peer, not as a historian. it shows, somehow, that no matter how young or insignificant we are, we can make a difference, just by continuing to hope and fight for our tomorrow. not for our country, not for our peers, just for ourselves.