Skip to main content

Confirmed

We have motion sensors in our office for more economic usage of lighting. Most of my colleagues have left but I haven't had my daily fill of Net surfing. That's why I'm still here. Being motionless most of the time, the sensors often mistake the room as empty (it's happening this very moment...again!) and begins to dim the lights before finally switching them off. Not all the lights are connected to the same sensor, luckily! All I need to do is make some meaningless movements & lo...there's light!
There we go again! Gotta do those motions.

Comments

Anonymous said…
Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!
Anonymous said…
Before doing Those Motions, remember there may be camera's also.
Deepanjan said…
Yeah! They keep me from doing anything obscene.
Anonymous said…
Our odc has this system too...But only sensors not cameras..
Anonymous said…
Our odc has this system too...But only sensors not cameras..
Deepanjan said…
I'm not sure about the cameras. They may be positioned strategically.

Popular posts from this blog

This is what Bertrand Russell said about religion...

Religion is based, I think, primarily and mainly upon fear. It is partly the terror of the unknown and partly, as I have said, the wish to feel that you have a kind of elder brother who will stand by you in all your troubles and disputes. ... A good world needs knowledge, kindliness, and courage; it does not need a regretful hankering after the past or a fettering of the free intelligence by the words uttered long ago by ignorant men.

The year that was

I'm wearing a rather striking shirt, one that makes me feel like a clown fooling around in a graveyard. Roving eyes latch on to me and make me too conscious of myself. Checkered in red, grey, black and maroon, I've excused myself into donning it and looking silly for two reasons. It's Friday and…more importantly, the last working day of the year. Tailored half-a-year back, I never had the courage to wear it, not until today. It's that time of the year when it's time to reflect on the events that transpired. Last year ended on the worst possible note. Dad had expired and I was numb with shock. The repercussions rippled halfway thought this year. Things were so abysmal initially that I had lost the will to live. Acrid in everything I did, I was immensely angered by time phlegmatically flowing through its cadence. It was as if Dad meant nothing to anybody. What right did people have to live the way they always had when Dad was no more? Why was much of the world still