Mr. Mihir Mukherjee an expatriate Indian scientist from US was visiting Calcutta, his birthplace and the city of his early education. While in the city, he learned about an ongoing photo exhibition taking place in the Academy of Fine Arts, city’s premier arts center in downtown area. The exhibition was displaying the works of current talented Indian photographers. One day, he made a trip to the venue and began enjoying the displayed photographs. And that’s when he fortuitously collided with his long lost friend Mr. Gautam Basu, now a management specialist and an amateur photographer. One of Mr. Basu’s shots of four cheetahs in the wild, rarely to be seen sitting together next to each other was selected for the exhibition, thus was his presence. While exploring the exhibition together, the duo pleasantly met with four other long lost friends: two bankers, another scientist, and a chartered accountant. Soon, this group of six childhood friends would decide to celebrate their sudden reunion and head towards a pub in nearby Park Street, crossing the Chowringhee Road, city’s famous main thoroughfare.
As the group began to cross the heavily trafficked road, one of the flaps from the old pair of leather sandals Mr. Mukherjee was wearing came undone. But he kept on walking even after crossing the road, somehow managing the damaged one. Soon his friends would take him to a nearby shoe store and buy him a new pair. But Mr. Mukherjee kept the old pair, instead of discarding. Soon he would locate a street-cobbler who was able to repair the damaged piece. For Mr. Mukherjee, this old pair of sandals represented his modest upbringing in past. He along with all his ex-comrades belonged to the first generation of India’s children of independence. They were all born in the first decade of India’s freedom from two hundred years of occupation by an imperial power. In their childhood, the country was still a poor third world nation attempting to rebuild itself, not a regional superpower of modern times. Their parents had brought them up with available meager means, en route to their later successes in life.
After saying good-bye to his friends that evening, Mr. Mukherjee embarked on a pre-planned trip through various countries in South-East Asia. Wearing his reconstructed old pair of sandals, he climbed the tallest temple in Angkor Wat, explored the killing fields of Phnom Penh from genocidal ex-dictator Pol Pot era, enjoyed a boat trip in the mystic Mekong River in Laos, and roamed around the Thai Royal Palace in Bangkok.
On his way back to US, Mr. Mukherjee needed to make an overnight stop in Calcutta for his airlines connection. He came out of the airport and headed towards the Chowringhee Road. His now enlightened pair of sandals needed to cross that road one more time to complete its karma's full circle.
As the group began to cross the heavily trafficked road, one of the flaps from the old pair of leather sandals Mr. Mukherjee was wearing came undone. But he kept on walking even after crossing the road, somehow managing the damaged one. Soon his friends would take him to a nearby shoe store and buy him a new pair. But Mr. Mukherjee kept the old pair, instead of discarding. Soon he would locate a street-cobbler who was able to repair the damaged piece. For Mr. Mukherjee, this old pair of sandals represented his modest upbringing in past. He along with all his ex-comrades belonged to the first generation of India’s children of independence. They were all born in the first decade of India’s freedom from two hundred years of occupation by an imperial power. In their childhood, the country was still a poor third world nation attempting to rebuild itself, not a regional superpower of modern times. Their parents had brought them up with available meager means, en route to their later successes in life.
After saying good-bye to his friends that evening, Mr. Mukherjee embarked on a pre-planned trip through various countries in South-East Asia. Wearing his reconstructed old pair of sandals, he climbed the tallest temple in Angkor Wat, explored the killing fields of Phnom Penh from genocidal ex-dictator Pol Pot era, enjoyed a boat trip in the mystic Mekong River in Laos, and roamed around the Thai Royal Palace in Bangkok.
On his way back to US, Mr. Mukherjee needed to make an overnight stop in Calcutta for his airlines connection. He came out of the airport and headed towards the Chowringhee Road. His now enlightened pair of sandals needed to cross that road one more time to complete its karma's full circle.
