Though the human mind is amazingly inventive and innovative, it often falters in its ingenuity and creates things that are utterly worthless. One such contraption I'm forces to romance each day at work is the paper hand towel dispenser. The towels could have been simply placed on a tray or rack. Instead, a stack of towels is placed within a weird looking box that has only a tiny slit at its lower end through which we are expected to pull them out! What an utterly wasteful thing to do! The nuances of reaching for the slit at the bottom, poking my fingers in and pulling a towel are such that I can't help thinking of something else that's not mentionable here!
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