Thursday, October 28, 2010

Old Black Shoe

Mama always said there's an awful lot you can tell about a person by their shoes. Where they're going. Where they've been.
                                            -Forrest Gump

I first met my shoes one fine day at school in class 11. The school administration had, for reasons unfathomable to the puny intellect of mortals, decided to stray from the standard canvas footwear that had been part of the attire of its students for quite some time then. So they had gotten all these people from Adidas to measure all our feet and supply shoes for us.

And there they were, lying patiently in their cardboard containers in wait for my feet to slip in, black with a sheen, sturdy yet comfortable, larger than average yet not too large, my transport across all land, my vehicle across all terrain, my protection from thorns and stones and cow dung, shoes yet so much more.

 Needless to say, they lasted me more than well throughout my school days, accompanying me to classes and exams and washrooms, through the best and worst of times, without as much as a tear or a bruise. In the summers of 2008 and 2009, when I was at the IOI training camp, these shoes were among the first things I made it a point to take along, and they came with me too to Bulgaria for the olympiad in 2009, sheltering my feet from the artificial cold of the plane and especially the contest hall (where I remember literally shivering), remaining witness to any and all progress in every circle I was involved in.

And of course, when college started in August 2009, they were among my first possessions to enter the campus, seeing me through the initial few days of uncertainty and unsettled anticipation, and later on through all sorts of situations from the rare (extremely rare) morning jog to sleeping through ID classes. They were here this year too, though worn a bit less frequently.

Last week, while playing football for about the fourth time in the hostel ever, the sole of the right shoe came off. I have never seen that happen before, and have no idea why it did so even without much wear. I don't think it is mend-able, and am probably getting another pair for Diwali. So I guess the time is here to say goodbye to my great old shoes, unfortunate though it might be, and move on to whatever comes my way next, as something definitely shall.

They shall be missed.

PS: Speaking of shoes, can anyone help me figure this one out ?

3 comments:

  1. what is the post script ? some kind of puzzle ?

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  2. Not really, but it does puzzle me. :). It's an xkcd strip that I can't understand for nuts.

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  3. In what scientists are calling "pretty gay," I can't find my shoes. / {{ alt: A leading expert characterized the situation as 'retarded' }}

    I can't understand it either

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