If you had a friend who spoke behind your back and she had a birthday (Stupid thing, Comes every year!) which you cannot pretend to have carelessly forgotten, what do you gift her? Definitely not a Card which says how wonderful a friend she is (Unless she has a Conscience, which we obviously do not expect her to have!). Not a delicious looking cake (Unless she was chalking up a diet plan the day before). So what do you gift her? Something that publicly says 'I care', but killing her at the same time. A gift thats right for her, a gift that is totally like her... 'A Pair of the prettiest shoes on sale' (Caution: One size smaller than her feet). Spice it up with the comment "I never knew you had such graceful feet" and you are done!
Though I haven't had much experience with such mean friends, I have had considerable exposure to the mean shoes to tell you it is a safe bet. Blessed with much-bigger-than-normal feet all my life, I have seen both heaven and hell (the latter more frequently). My respect for the middlemen who take the thorns and god-knows-what on the roads with the grace of armoured knights often baffles me and I end up often at the counter of these shops. I have been lucky with may such Successful Transactions, I daresay.
Inspite of all that, the curse of big feet lingers. That combined with my favoring prejudice results in smaller shoes all the time. The leather knights (and their non-leather half-brothers as well) turn out to be traitors and bite off the feet that bought them. I try and try harder to discipline them as I walk around with blistering ankles and scratched toes maintaining poise and grace inspite of the desperate inner voice yelling to shrug them off. Though this looks bad, the nightmare is yet to come.
If walking the onward journey was a prick, even thinking about the return journey is a death blow. Still I am bound by position co-ordinates to walk 400 feet in the metric system or 1000 miles in the worn-out foot system to reach back home and I consider every form of mechanized transport to shorten the journey (This might not be completely true. I was even comtemplating an idea of a lift with the buffaloes). Fast-forwarding the 1000 miles and the flight of stairs, I lay back with both me and my big feet, breathing for the first time in what seemed like forever. I give up on the idea of training my shoes, feeling too peaceful to put them back in their fancy box.
Though I haven't had much experience with such mean friends, I have had considerable exposure to the mean shoes to tell you it is a safe bet. Blessed with much-bigger-than-normal feet all my life, I have seen both heaven and hell (the latter more frequently). My respect for the middlemen who take the thorns and god-knows-what on the roads with the grace of armoured knights often baffles me and I end up often at the counter of these shops. I have been lucky with may such Successful Transactions, I daresay.
Inspite of all that, the curse of big feet lingers. That combined with my favoring prejudice results in smaller shoes all the time. The leather knights (and their non-leather half-brothers as well) turn out to be traitors and bite off the feet that bought them. I try and try harder to discipline them as I walk around with blistering ankles and scratched toes maintaining poise and grace inspite of the desperate inner voice yelling to shrug them off. Though this looks bad, the nightmare is yet to come.
If walking the onward journey was a prick, even thinking about the return journey is a death blow. Still I am bound by position co-ordinates to walk 400 feet in the metric system or 1000 miles in the worn-out foot system to reach back home and I consider every form of mechanized transport to shorten the journey (This might not be completely true. I was even comtemplating an idea of a lift with the buffaloes). Fast-forwarding the 1000 miles and the flight of stairs, I lay back with both me and my big feet, breathing for the first time in what seemed like forever. I give up on the idea of training my shoes, feeling too peaceful to put them back in their fancy box.
Loved the starting para
ReplyDeleteThanks for the review! :)
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