Eye of The Tiger I have been athletic but never sports oriented in my life. In between, I had faced my own sins of youth, arrogant decadence of all ills of youth- smoking, drinking, an incandescent conscience and an unyielding spine, aggravated further by constant strife between my refusal of all social judgments and an insistence by the world around me to judge me, nevertheless. It hit me, hit me hard. I went down with a feeling that I will never come back again. I remember those bleak days, fourteen years back, when every step taken would be precarious ringing with a hissing fear of death in its sound. I was hit by affairs of the heart, and with that I am not referring to my courtship which culminated with a marriage resulting in excommunication by the society and family. It was odd feeling. It was unexpectedly expected. I was told that was to happen, but being an only son, believed that warning from the parents to be hollow. Boy, solid it was, they held social pride dearer
I am a Worshiper of Words. I ponder, I think, I write, therefore, I exist. A Blog on Literature, Philosophy and Parenting