hrough a haze of hotheadedness and unprovoked angst, I vaguely remember how I spent my formative years as a teenager. Moping around the house, complaining about the fact I had nothing to wear; spending hours getting ready to go out to club on a Saturday night; listening to ‘music’ at ungodly volumes. Generally not contributing much more than a scowl and a dirty look to society. Meanwhile, 10,000 kilometres northwest (and a couple of decades later) on the subcontinent, teenage Mithun Hunugund was navigating apertures and ISOs in
