Just yesterday, I was thinking of a chap I’d known in my first year of university, whose name I’d completely forgotten.
Naturally, yesterday I concluded he was yet another soul lost in the mists of time.
Yet, in the midst of my great clean-up, I open another old folder on a high shelf at the back of our old boiler cupboard.
What’s this? A folded letter dispatched from Lahore in January 1998. From whom? Yes, that old friend!
So there we are: I have a name and his hometown. Not so lost, after all.
Who knows, he may even be the professor whose face appeared seconds after I put his name into Google.
Maybe I’ll pursue that, once I’ve finished with the almighty mess I’ve created.
First I need to find my own birth certificate. That’s how all this started. Talk about mission creep!
Last modified: 24 August 2024
