Friday, August 15, 2008


I recently participated in a great writing experiment. The task is to write your personal memoir in six words. Just six words. No more, no less. Legend has it that Hemingway was once challenged to write a story in only six words. His response? “For sale: baby shoes, never worn.”

As I sit hear listening to my favourite Bandari music, I muse on my life. The “achievements” I think I have attained. The “successes” I think I have accomplished. The “dreams” I think I have realized. Do I measure out my life with what is and was?

What about the things I never did, heights I did not reach for, fragments of my life left incomplete? What about the time I walked away from a beggar on the street because I was in a rush? What about the time I refused to stand up in a crowded train for an old man because I was lazy? What about the times when I just wanted to sleep into a forever slumber?

And I thought, what would sum up my life in six words? If I were to die, what would I want as an epitaph on my gravestone? What legacy do I want to leave behind?

I tried my best. And again.

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