Autobiography of a shoe.
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Many hands and machines worked on me and gave me a shape in the factory until finally I was ready to be showcased on 13th December 2011. I am a pair of Nike shoes. As soon as I was born I was neatly packed in a box and sent to a shop named Elite in New Market in Calcutta.
I was the most handsome and expensive pair in the rack. The ladies' footwear used to eye me and talk about me. No one could buy me because I was very expensive. One day a superstar came and bought me. He used to wear me to all the parties. I must say he was the best dancer in the city. I loved dancing along with the ladies' footwear. But one day while drinking coffee he mistakenly spilt some on me. Just then he wiped me sure, but since then he just left me on his shoe rack. After that he never put me on.
Finally one day he got rid of all his used but not old shoes and I was one of them. This time I was given away to one ordinary man who used to wear me everywhere - to his office, gym, shops… He did not have any other pair so he always walked with me even on dirty roads and mud puddles but unfortunately he never danced! One day I was torn apart and my stitches opened up. He went to the cobbler to mend me. But he said "These shoes cannot be repaired any more". So he had no other choice but throw me away and so he did. After many days a beggar picked me up and somehow managed to put me together with strings. I did not want to stay with him. But he might not have thought like me.
He always treated me with love and care. And I think he loves me for the sake of me. So he still wears me though I look extremely worn out.