A friend gave me a book. Because it is recommended by nearly everyone, I had made up my mind that it must be a stupid book with lengthy and detailed descriptions, and was ultimately kept aside. With the days hard to fill, having no other thing to do, I picked up the book, “The diary of a young girl, Anne Frank. “ The book started off with a teenager’s life, a typical one. But the sudden twist, circumstances forcing her to leave her beloved home, and her staying in the Secret Annexe (Read the book for that). It was not a book, rather a mirror, to simply put it. A mirror, reflecting exactly what I am going through or rather through which most of us have gone through. The feeling of having no one to confide in, of growing distances from your family, the bitter relationship with your mother, that love –hate thing with your father, jealousy for your ‘the perfect’ sibling. The anger when suddenly everyone takes deep interest in your life and enjoys pointing out your faults in the way you eat, dress, talk, and walk (Am I overdoing it?). The sudden urge to be perfect and finding yourselves back answering, the next moment. The adrenalin rush when you see that special someone. Secret crushes, first love. Longing for something, even you don’t know. Insecurity, feeling ugly, pale, fat and dumped, all those nights you cry yourself to sleep, all these melodramas have been perfectly said, picturised and most importantly has reached out to young readers like me. Her transformation from a fussy, annoyed rebel to a mature, understanding girl was not sudden; rather it was gradual, touching and realistic. Anne found goodness in people who criticized her. She tried to overcome differences with people around her, something even grown-ups fail to do. She deeply prayed for other souls who were suffering, or were killed, enslaved or even gassed. She was grateful to God for everything. She had a wrecked, bonded, confined teenage. She slept every night, knowing that she may not live to see the next morning. But she didn’t stop dreaming. She kept learning new things, new languages, and read almost everything she laid her hands on and created this beautiful piece of masterpiece. She cherished her dream of reaching out to the world one day and making a difference. Even when she was torn apart from her rightful life by greed-driven, power- hungry people, she kept her faith that one day, the world shall change for good, magnanimity shall be respected, love shall win and truth shall prevail. She was a dreamer. And I know that somewhere, she is still dreaming....but through young people like us. She still believes....but through young hearts like ours. She still hopes that one day; people shall be not treated as Jews or Christians, men or women, but as individuals...individuals with dignity. May her dreams come true and if i could contribute even the slightest to it, I shall be glad. And for the brave, undaunted, courageous girl she was, girl.... I salute you.