Now I really envy women who step out of their cosy homes to earn their daily roti.
Hats off to them. They manage home and work with aplomb. I'm sure.
Now, sometimes I day dream.
What if I were working?
I would have to get up early, maybe five AM, when normally I'm dreaming.
Then cut, cook, pack and rush to office.
The train..oh no..I'm nervous already.
I'd have to share space with hefty and thin women packed like sardines in a compartment. And panic at the very thought of getting off at my destination without getting torn to pieces by the incoming rush.
My boss..if he's an elderly, obnoxious fellow like the 'Hari Sado' guy in that Ad...
I'd get palpitations just looking at him!
Hopefully if he's young and nice looking, it will then be easier.
I dread sitting in one place all day looking at the stupid computer, in a match box cabin, with Hari Sado breathing expletives down my neck.
I mean, give me a break man!
Chai and lunch breaks would mean listening to rubbish office gossip, worrying if that chamcha leaked out my slightest disgusted look on my face, when 'boss' was mentioned.
I would miss my long afternoon naps. And writing on Babu too.
Who knows Sado might catch me catching forty winks at my desk and then call me to his cabin, and give me a sound hearing.
Who knows, one day I might lose my temper, slap him hard, throw my file at him..give my resignation..screaming..
'H for Hitler
A for Arrogant
R for Rascal
I for Idiot...'
at his bewildered face and rush out!
Thank God I'm not working!
