Autobiography of shoe…
It is autobiography cum story of the life span of a shoe.
It is a bit hard for me to walk but still every part of my body gets aroused when I think of that golden period.
I am proudly a hybrid vigour.
The beautiful and long lasting skin I got from my dad.
He was a boot and was very tough. And my high resistance and style is gift from my sweet sandal mom.
I got my sole and soul from her. That how x y chromosomes were distributed and I was born. We are called as Franco leano.
It was said that I was the most perfect and handsome out of my all brothers and sisters.
I still remember the day when we all were packed like embryos, in those lovely paper crafted bags. And from there the beautiful and mesmerizing journey begin.
On 18th march 1996 we were launched to the mass by one of the famous masters, mr.Amitabh bacchan. From that day people were just crazy about us.
In those finely crafted air conditioned showrooms it was like being displayed on matrimonials. And people coming and going,watching us, admiring us, whistling and being flattered.
I can say I was lucky as I was brought by a beautiful couple for their marriage. The boy said that he love me and took me home.
At home I was praised along with clothes and other stuff for marriage.
On the marriage it was like their custom that bride's sisters will steal the groom's shoes and so I was stolen….stolen by beauties…
I replaced sweets and was with those sweet beauties whole night.
Next day I was taken back by my master for rs.5001. it was added to my face value. It was sad to leave girls but now I was on work…
I loved my master and he too.
I gave him full comfort and even relished his dirty socks. Sometimes I even torned his socks and kissed his feet…
All season I worked for him. Now I was not so smart and wrinkles were on my face. Some times I even visited cosmetic surgeons under the banyan tree but was mostly treated at home.
My master wanted a new home for his feets but he did not thrown me as I was lucky for him.
But one fine day at shore of ganga at varanasi, I was kidnapped along with some clothes of my master. It was horrible being hostage at a place were there was no light no air.
The kidnapper was a harsh guy. He liked me and his desires were painful. he had one extra finger which made a permanent deformity on my body.
I never wanted to serve him but I was forced…
He used to ran on harsh land with sharp glasses and sticky dirt…
I was badly bitten by them. He even did not bothered to take out those bullet like nails from my body.
I wanted to take revenge and one day when he was running on some soft wood escaping from police from police I deliberately pushed that bullet cum nail which eventually got struck in that soft wood and evil fell and was caught… there he thrown me and I was there in that jungle for a very long time.
Nature fed me water and light but silver lining was seen…
One day I saw a boy,he was a rack picker. I removed leaves from my body to make my self visible. And luck was there. He took and gave me shelter in his bag. It was a sticky place but it is good to be one land rather being dangling from the tree.
But after a while I noticed that I was offered to another boy who thanked him. I guess they were brothers. But my fate he was doctor.
When he say my breed's tag and my condition he took and ran to his lab..
Operation theater was set and he started.
He cleaned my wounds took out those bullets like nails, gave me few stiches and worked on my deformed part that was result of the sixth finger of the kidnapper….
The operation was successful.
.i was oiled and polished. Even the stitch was like design.
The new morning was there. I felt good after that operation. I was in good hands. Feed properly and was on display. It was good to see such a different class and culture.
Sometime my doctor even wore me and I offered maximum comfort to the life saver.
After my sole transplantation and bypass of my laces I was a bit loose and lost my strength. It was due to that small and malfunctioned lab of him…but he served me and saved me.
It was fun living there but my end was near. Things, gone like, frying pen to fire.
My master was taken to police station along with his lab due to land problems. It was harsh. And due to this my pair was lost. One part fell there only on the ground and other was with doctor. That must have been given to fire for salvation.
But I was there only for many days, many nights. Just loitering around in streets in mouths of those weird dogs… I was begging to die. I was even crushed by many cars.
And it was 26 jan 2006 when some sweepers put me in the waste box.
Since then I am here, my age is too much and I am begging to die. I wrote this because I wanted my family to know where I had spend those 9 years.
If any one find this letter please send this to my family members at the factory,franco leano.
In waiting of the death,
With regards….
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