Ahem..

And. With. That. We. Complete. One. Year. Of. Work. Life.

<Insert claps, hoots and whistles here>

*Bows*

*Flying kisses*

*Oh, stop now!*

That's right, people! ONE whole year of work life. Sigh. I feel old now. It's been a great year, though. It also marks one whole year of active blogging life, if you know what I mean! *Wink, nudge, wink*

I had a pretty cool and funny post in my head when I was deliberating writing about this, but I am not in a great mood, what with stupid rains and idiotic, brainless people at work (There were some more nice adjectives in my mind, but I refrain from posting them on a "Family Blog"). So I am going to chuck that post. Instead, I will torture you by posting a piece of fiction I wrote for a Blogathon, eons back. I did not publish it back then, because, well, it is not that good! But like I said, I am in a mood to torture you, so.

Don't be too harsh on me, be considerate for my bad mood! Oh and in case you are wondering why I am posting at all when I have nothing to write about, that is because if I don't post today, I will have to wait for 2 posts before I reach my 50th post! :D

 

WHAT IF...

A group of girls in the local train's compartment were giggling shyly and teasing each other.

“Go tell him he is cute.”

“Shut up. He’ll just look the other way. Have you seen how handsome he is?”

“I wish I could propose to him. Right now.”

He sat there, oblivious to all conversations. Lost in his world, sunglasses on his eyes, handsome as ever with a striking smile on his face. A new comer into the compartment with a scowl on his face and an ominous atmosphere around him sat next to him and made himself comfortable. The smile on his face encouraged his new neighbour to start a conversation. “The worst day of my life. Today. Why you ask? Because the trains are running late.” The young man smirked and said, “When are they not running late, Sir? Last I heard, we were still in India!” He guffawed on his own joke. 

His angry neighbour, though, was not looking for answers; he just needed a sounding board. He continued, “As if that is not all, my boss hates me. My wife doesn’t trust me. My children think I am no good. I am not being paid enough. Nobody loves me. I wanted to commit suicide, the trains were running late! The BLOODY Trains are running late. Today, of all the days! Can you believe that? Life is not fair, kiddo. Life is just not fair. What would you know about life? You are young, good looking, you have a charming smile and a dashing style statement, you must be rich too. Are you an actor or something? Oh how do I care? My life sucks at this moment and God is helping zilch! I am telling you, young man, take it from me - Life is never fair.”

The young man laughed. "Hmm. You are right. Biscuit?" He said, offering an open packet vaguely in the air. The older man was not amused. He again started off on an invective filled tangent. "You think I am kidding? Bah. Youngsters like you need a few lessons. On life. On how unfair life is. On what all life will mete out to you. On how life never turns out the way you plan it. Sigh."

There was silence for a few seconds as the train slowed down and screeched to a halt. The only sound was those of the giggling young girls. The young man muttered under his breath, "And that would be the seventh stop." He got up, removed his sunglasses and remarked, “Sorry Sir, my stop is here, but I was just wondering, what if life had not been even this fair to you? What if..? Just wondering!” and with that he picked up his walking cane and left, tapping the ground, counting his steps to the door and groping through the darkness in his life.