Paid the price for being just faithful. And goes..
Will miss you maggee.
Proud of You
Mumbai District Skating Championship - 2010
 | ||
| Two Gold Medals in her maiden race. Proud to be your Dad!! |
God Sees the Truth but Waits
For someone whose school and college life was spent very little in education but in full-time sports, i had always regretted having missed out on proper academic life. The vision of a midnight-oil burning studious character has eluded all my life. Instead all my overnight planning has been towards field-setting or stroke-rehearsal for the next day's match. Not sure if it is to compensate that loss of class-room education, i now love to write. And it's corollary, i hate speaking.
Happened to read Leo Tolstoy's God Sees the Truth but Waits a few days back.
This essay was a part of my non-detail syllabus in my first year in college. I don't remember having even bought the book. Therefore i had some guilty affinity to this story. This is about someone, Ivan Aksionov, who pays the price for extreme innocence. The story runs as a parable of forgiveness. Was terribly touched by Tolstoy's narrative. Like the press said '... however hard you try to clench your fists in prayers, you should also move to protect your physical life'. Many of us miss that part.
Ctrl + S
I don’t know if English has a word to describe ‘fear of losing data’. But surely, I have this well-recognised and difficult-to-overcome weakness of using Ctrl+S almost every minute I type out something. Therefore I wanted to rummage through my old trunk to see what all have still been retained over the years.
Right from my first salary slip at State bank – to statement of account for almost all the years i am employed - to copies (and extra photocopies) of my travel tickets (I don’t travel much so everytime I get to travel I must have taken printouts and many copies of the same) – to my first mobile handset of 1996 and the various defunct sim cards – to copies and more photocopies and further more Xerox copies of my passport (not just this, I found 12 copies of my daughter’s passport who is just 4 and would have hardly traveled), I stumbled into a warehouse of records that stands out for its redundancy of safety - defying logic and bordering on stupidity, if not exaggerated fear. The best thing is I have a few boxes containing the almost-forgotten diskettes and floppy disks and I don’t even know what lies inside them. This is in addition to the half a dozen pen-drives and HDDs. Have some 1,500 horoscope details of people as famous as Winston Churchil to as infamous as the rapist in Brookesfield. The funniest thing about this junk is I have some 2,000 odd sms messages in those disused mobile handsets, 25k odd mails in back-up formats and 100 odd hand-written letters from various people - all, a veritable source of mirth and mystery.
Some of my friends tell me I have the best filing-system but they better take a leaf out of my book to top theirs of “Don’ts..”. Life would be far more peaceful if there were fewer references available on any subject.
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