I spent the whole day in great restlessness. Somehow, since that day, I have always felt that the lost boy is ‘me'. I still have hazy memories of what I read that day it had the story of an old man who was wandering aimlessly looking for a boy lost in a procession. I fully attribute this hunger to my teachers Karunakaran and Shrinivasa Murthy who inspired me with their teaching and goaded me to read just about everything.
I was in the habit of reading everything that I laid my hands on – stray essays, books, newspaper articles - it was an insatiable hunger. It had no details of who wrote it or when it was written. It said, “Arthapoorna Meravanige” (Meaningful Procession). After having my morning breakfast of puffed rice, I was about to wipe my mouth with it and I was struck by a headline. It was a piece of paper into which Jayanna, who ran a shop at the bus stand, wrapped puffed rice for me. One morning, after some brisk selling, a small piece of paper caught my attention. When I was in college, in the wee hours of the morning I used to sell newspaper at the Tiptur bus stand.
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