Time wasted in canteens, near the girls college, hostel corridor, tea stalls and at D grade theatres resulted in getting a piece of paper, popularly know as The Degree, passport to inter in a world of pure slavery.
Your first day of your maiden job start’s with an exploration drive with lots of eyes gazing at you as if you came there for some robbery. After some shots of embarrassment, you finally end-up in standing before the den of the devil, i mean to say the Boss.Waiting for boss call to come-in is just like waiting for a doctor to call for a vaccination, right there in your butt. At last you receives the much-awaited call, which more sound like a death sentence.
Making you comfortable and presenting himself as statute of love, the boss welcomes you but one can easily perceive from his eyes, his deadly plans for you.
Your collogues, the pool of deadly fugitive and assailants seems to be friendly for the first and off-course last time. Some even look like as if they have just walked out of their graves and looking for some fresh glass of blood. Your responsibilities which more looks like bullets are dropped on you. Your good works would be always ignored similarly as a cricket team ignores the extra players. And you bad work is highlighted in the same way as a local newspaper highlights a sadly demise of cow by been electrocuted. On your salary day, all co-workers behave like as if there are more then the god, after all its day for them to look forward to a cost-less meal. Your clients treat you as a lamb to be slaughter soon. Peons are another creed of devils setting next to your cabin doing nothing and asking them to do something for you is like asking a blood group to save one’s life.
The reporting to boss is as hard as telling your girlfriend about your new crush. You tiffen at lunchtime is being seen as a public property and no-body shows mercy on your underweight status.
Sometime evening seems to come so late that you die hundred of times before finally packing-up and exiting but suddenly your boss challenges your youthfulness by giving some urgent emails to reply.
Company’s board meetings and presentations are as boring as documentary film on rainwater harvesting and when your boss instruct you to present the companies performance then first thing comes in your mind is to call Arnold Swazgheneger for your rescue.
First job is like a glass of milk without sugar, which leaves no alternative then dumping it in to your warehouse mean to say “Stomach”.