“So how do you wish to be remembered?”, asked one of my colleagues casually as we strolled down the road towards his car. For a moment, I felt stumped, but then, suddenly, as if someone kicked in a supplement of dose of wisdom into my brain, I nodded, took time to carve a smile on my face, and said:
“The best thing that could happen for any one would be a mass funeral, full of weeping mourners, and an epithet that reads, ‘And when the sun had set itself in the right direction, did you see how a very small man casted a very big shadow?’”
We didn’t speak for at least, the next 10 minutes that day. He was probably more astounded than I was.