From a time when the HR Trainee did not have a PC.

05/17/05
I am wondering whether any of this is really worth. Obviously, it is all futile, I should have brought a book and read it, if not brought along at least a diary. But there is enough paper for me to scribble on as much as I want. Let’s see what would I have done today? I could have met S early or met D even. I must talk to S’s parents. I have to. It is so boring. I can’t even keep my eyes open. But one must save the scarce white spaces to fill with other more pressing thoughts that will crowd my mind.
“Mohabbatein lutaunga…”
Nice but not that nice. How about a poem?

As I stare across the dusted glass
I think of what lies ahead.
A bored death or challenged living?
Then my thoughts fade like ink on blotting,
And I am back to the morose prose!!

The glass ceiling reminds me of the dream apartment, top floor with glass ceiling opening into the beautiful night sky full of stars. I would love to share this place with someone special, how about Abhishek or may be D, well why leave out Rahul for that matter.
What the hell are these people doing, cutting up the paper before anyone can read it? How exceedingly irritating!