I was an Indian woman in my past birth. Loyal, beautiful but suffered quit a bit at the hands of my husband because in the life before that, i was a commander of the English army and i had many mistresses. Broke many hearts because I had always wanted to feel what it was like in my life before this, when I was a timid islander who lived with the aborigines. There were never enough women in the tiny island and the one I had set my eyes on, was wooed by a man who was far more charismatic than I was. I deserved it because when I was a king the life before that, I wooed the fiance of my best friend. The life before that I was a monk who chanced upon a beautiful lady, but due to my vow to be a celibate in that life, I promise I would marry that lady in the next birth. And today as I sit at my table, the four of them sit before me and relate to me their lives in detail. And I; who was once a woman, a commander, a timid islander, a king, and a monk, write down the account of my past lives. And when I’m done writing, I’ll keep the stories under my pillow to remind me constantly that I had become a story teller as a result of my previous births.