Month: January, Year: 1985
My daily routine settled into a strict, relentless rhythm that tested every limit of my youth.
Every morning, the alarm woke me at 3:45 AM.
By 4:00 AM, I was out on the quiet streets of Mylapore, heading toward the central newspaper depot near Luz Corner.
From 4:00 AM to 7:00 AM, I loaded my bicycle satchel with heavy bundles of daily newspapers, including *The Hindu*, *Dina Thanthi*, and *Indian Express*, delivering them across quiet residential streets.
In the beginning, riding my father’s heavy Atlas cycle on these morning routes took three full hours.
But after just one week of continuous physical exertion, I began to notice clear changes in my body.
My stamina improved rapidly, my breath control sharpened, and my leg strength increased significantly.
By the second week, I could complete the entire route in under two hours.
By the end of January, I had mastered the street grids of Mylapore, Mandaveli, and Alwarpet so well that I was finishing the entire delivery run in just an hour and a half.
I realized that my young seventeen-year-old body was adapting to physical exertion far faster than normal. Read this novel at g.com for the best experience.
I suspected this enhanced physical recovery was unique perk of my rebirth, working alongside my photographic memory.
Seeing how quickly I finished, I asked the depot supervisor for permission to take on an additional quota of fifty newspapers starting in February.
More newspapers meant more monthly income and stronger physical conditioning, turning my early morning work into both an economic foundation and a personal training discipline.
After finishing my morning route, I returned home by 6:00 AM, helped my mother draw water from the well, freshened up, and reviewed my school material.
School hours at P.S.
Higher Secondary School ran from 8:30 AM to 3:30 PM.
I paid close attention during class, but because I could recall every textbook page instantly, I used my free periods to mentally analyze financial markets and outline future business steps.
Once school finished, I went back home to complete my homework, ate a light meal, and boarded a city transport bus to Sowcarpet for my evening job as a night accountant at Rajesh’s sub-brokerage office on Mint Street, working from 5:30 PM to 8:30 PM.
At the Sowcarpet office, my performance continued to impress Rajesh.
In mid-January, a complex ledger discrepancy arose involving a three-party Badla transaction with a legacy broker connected to the Madras Stock Exchange.
I walked up to the ledger desk, glanced at the physical entry sheets for two minutes, and pointed out the exact line item where a interest carry-forward calculation had been misplaced under a deferred delivery column.
Rajesh was amazed.
He slapped the wooden desk with excitement and told the entire office that my mental math skills were sharper than any mechanical calculator imported from Japan.
Working at the center of Sowcarpet’s financial activity gave me a direct view of daily trading operations.
Every evening, I observed the cash flows, transaction slips, and stock order sheets handled by local sub-brokers.
I paid close attention to how local traders used informal credit lines, how settlements were arranged on the Madras Stock Exchange, and which blue-chip shares were being accumulated by market syndicates.
I recorded every stock price movement, volume change, and trader preference directly into my photographic memory.
I was not just filling ledgers for a salary; I was conducting careful market surveillance, gathering data, and preparing my strategy for a well-timed entry into the stock market once my investment capital was ready.