It was pouring "dogs and cats" - not "cats and dogs" as Snoopy of "Peanuts" fame would like us say on this Sunday afternoon even as I walked on the road leading off from my school towards the bus stop, a road I had traveled 4 times a days all during my school days. At that very moment, my sandals decided to give way.
"Oh! No!" I muttered as walked - hoping against hope - towards the corner where our 'family cobbler' used to have a tent almost 35 years ago.
Stumbling along, I was relieved to see the familiar tent at the corner and amazed that it still stood. The dark, brown-black tarpaulin of yesteryears had given way to a slick bright blue plastic sheet but the old man I vaguely recollected was not under the tent. Instead the tent's tenant was a bright, young, clean shaven man - 25 odd years old. As he started attending to my sandals, a flashy car drew up along side and a young lady in high heels stepped out. Her sandals had obviously given way and she was struggling to walk up to the cobbler. The lady arrogantly slipped off the sandal towards the cobbler and said: