Passionate Creativity in Dreams

Dear Friends, welcome back to the revamped blog. I will try to focus to be regular up on my blog now onwards. We can chat here, talk all the bullshit we are full of; right here. Apparantly, it pays.(I heard there is something called Google Adsense). Moreover, better than making Office ‘Junk’ reports.  The picture attached represents a Service Engineer. I am sure all of you agree that an already burning candle, trying to torch up its own ass for the sake of the community, to enlighten the darkness of a moonless night, is the picture perfect example of what my Job is like. It also shows that I still have some sense of humour left. And it’s wicked. I can call me Deputy manager- Field Service. I can also call me Vice President- Field Service, Kolkata territory. Or maybe I can take it a step ahead to call it- Chairman, Kolkata Field service Engineering solutions. Whatever I call it, the fact remains the same. I am one damn stinkin’ service Engineer.

It happened a few days back. I was 15 minutes late to office. And in my standards, 15 minutes late is equal to 15 minutes since the super boss has arrived, and now the attendance register is in his room. So you got to enter his fortress in his observation, and sign the attendance register as he passes some sarcasm and a note, maybe. Moral of the story: Leave the taxi back in Jam, run like a horse, and reach the office sweating, possibly thinking excuses what made you late today to reach the office. Traffic Jam has nowadays become a cliché and is rarely accepted. I left the taxi 1 km away from Beckbagan and decided to speed up through walking. I took an unknown path to reach the office. I was rushing, cursing and sweating. Given a chance, my immediate boss would love to feed me to super boss, provided he was a cannibal. I suddenly stomped on a pile of cow dung. It was fresh cow dung. Soft like tart, warm like curry. (I really suck in explaining si