My Father’s son.
As a kid I was really young, restless, full of wild ideas and curious to the point of being ridiculous. To seek what lies within, I broke, smashed, untangled, unscrewed and decimated every piece of gadget that my father owned, be it a camera, watch, radio, fridge. Just about anything that ticked or tocked or purred mysteriously. Then at the impressionable age of four (my renaissance), my father did two things that changed my life forever. He bought me a gigantic globe and he took me to the Himalaya. I quite liked kicking and gnawing the plastic ball till he showed me how it was not meant for kicking around the house but it depicted the earth on which we all lived and traveled. He showed me India and some of the main cities. Of course, my birthplace did not find mention on that ball. Then he showed me the oceans and the seas and the continents and told me about the people who lived in those places. Suddenly my curiosity about the world around leaped quantumly from the household gadgets ...