Nine to Five

Ok so this isn't a story, just thoughts stitched together... Thoughts that come while i walk to my morning train everyday. They needed to see light and this blog is after all about thoughts that "pop"... So... I love talking and people who know me would agree that I love it. I enjoy telling stories and when i cannot write everything down, I let my mouth take over my writing abilities and typing skills.  But what i enjoy most is "pondering". Not necessarily being pensive... but just questioning things around us. Like who decided the name of the days. I mean what does "Monday" even mean? (by the way 'Monday' is derived from "Moon Day" of the Old English) Or "February"? I cant even say "February" without tripping on my tongue. Why do we even have names for days or months... why not just a number. Well i'm sure someone will trace history and get me the answers, but its not the answers i look for.  What I'

Every Monday to Friday, we start our morning with a rush only to scramble into our desks and then become extremely stationary.  Tick tock tick tock tick tock....  As the clock strikes five, 'The Rush' returns. We reboot our systems to "Seamless Navigation" mode and zip through crowds of people or cars or both. We, the people of this world, serving various corporations and companies, have inherited the power of going through days in 'work-mode'. I, for instance, channelise all my focus on a screen filled with jargons, all my strength in holding my butt in the chair instead of dancing, and all my intelligence in typing mails testing my true sense of English vocabulary. Till this date i hold the record of not having used abuse in any reply, though only my desk-neighbours are witness to how many i would have mouthed while typing those mails. But then comes along a day where it isn't about 'nine to five'... well to be fair, two days... The inevit