I woke up to a heavy cry and found my brother distraught. On enquiry, it became known that he had deleted a file on his laptop by mistake. A file he had taken more than a day to complete and without any backup in place. The worst part was he was to deliver a paper based on this file a day later. His grief was palpable. The redness of his face and eyes was justified. What wasn't justified was the stress he was under at that time. I tried to console him by saying that it's OK although i knew it wasn't. Especially for a guy from the world of academics whose world is occupied by research, research and more research. Tears were escaping his eyes by the time i got up and gauged the situation. I calmly asked him to keep looking in all the folders. He might have saved a copy somewhere. At least that's what i hoped for. After a good 10 minutes of frantic search, he found a copy in the Downloads folders. The relief on his face is best left undescribed. If there is one thing i can take away from this episode, it's how our misery often doesn't let us look at the solution. That's the power of grief. Like a Black Hole, it sucks us in and destroys our common sense. We are so panicky that we never get to check the Downloads folder. In case if you're wondering how the file got there, i'd say in the same way he ended up deleting the entire file by mistake.
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