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Tuesday, December 17, 2013
[Genius...]
The space is meant for one person.
^^^ by Locksley @ 11:13 PM.
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Saturday, December 14, 2013
['Tis for the birds..]
^^^ by Locksley @ 10:59 PM.
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Wednesday, December 11, 2013
[Born alone, die alone...]
This post is about something I've come to realise while sitting in my cubicle at work.
I belong to a relatively-new team at work. Being newly-formed, we haven't really gotten our own space yet. Our own space will be ready early next year, and in the meantime, we are spread out all over the department. We sit wherever there is space, and I'm currently sitting with people whom I don't really work with.
I have no common work topics to discuss with them. I chat with them once in a while about topics that are not work-related. But most of the time, I listen.
They say that we're given two ears but only one month because we're supposed to listen more than we talk. Perhaps that's true. Or perhaps, it's really not feasible for someone to talk using two months at the same time. Can you listen to and follow two different speeches at the same time? Probably not.
Listening is not a bad thing. I've been here for just over three months and I've already picked up a lot regarding how things work here and the culture of the organisation. Nothing really out of the ordinary. Every workplace has its characters and challenges, and it is no different here.
Except for one staff. She sits behind me, and her conversations with her husband got me thinking, and now writing about it.
I've never spoken to her about her husband. She's near retirement-age, so I presume her husband should be around the same age bracket. He has kidney problems and goes for dialysis regularly. He had an episode recently where he lost control of his bladder at home and made a real mess. He's currently at a hospital, scheduled for a surgery of some sort which didn't happen, for some reason. I don't know the details.
He calls her a few times a day, and while I can hear only one side of the conversation, it almost seems like she's talking to a child. From her responses, I guess that he's asking questions such as when is she coming to see him. Will she buy certain food for him. When can he go home.
Mostly, he is asking her to go over (the hospital is just across the road) and she will tell him that she can't do that during her working hours.
If I didn't already know, it would almost seem like she's talking to a little boy. A little boy in dire need of his mother.
Why, or what, would make a grown man behave this way?
There are a few truths regarding being human. Firstly, none of us asked to be born. None of us asked for this life. And lastly, we all die. Perhaps in the future, if science fiction writers are to be believed, this may change. But for now, like it or not, we will die.
When we're born, we are too young and unaware of what the hell is going on. So that doesn't matter. But when we die, most of us would know that it's coming. No one will know what that's like until it's their time. That is a most terrifying thought.
A thought that, perhaps, reduces grown men to behaving like a little boy.
^^^ by Locksley @ 10:19 PM.
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Saturday, December 07, 2013
[Do they deserve to sit?]
I've never liked giving up seats for these people, because they are by far the most inconsiderate bunch of people on public transport.
^^^ by Locksley @ 12:07 AM.
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Friday, December 06, 2013
[Are we really free?]
I watched Jack Reacher recently. One of the scenes in the movie gave me something to think about.
The following is one of the songs we sang when we were serving National Service in the Army. We had many songs, one of which was banned recently thanks to the efforts of a group of people who’s never walked a mile in our shoes, who twists and turns the concept of feminism into a weapon for them to get what they want. For them, the holier-than-thous, to decide what is right. But that’s another story. Of all the songs we’ve sang, this one had the greatest impact on me because it was not about some silly, made-up concepts or ideas (I never understood the meaning of the banned song, but that's besides the point). The words of this song meant something:
Training to be solders,
Fight for our land.
Once in our lives,
Two years of our life.
Have you ever wondered,
Why must we serve?
Because we love our land,
And we want it to be free, to be free.
This is just the first verse, and that’s all I need for the purposes of this post.
Most of us serve our National Service in the military, and the reason is because we want our country to be free. Free here obviously refers to freedom, and not void of payment.
We are free to walk about on the streets. Free to do what we want (within reasonable limits, of course). Free to make our own decisions. Free to choose our Government. Free to choose our jobs. Free to decide whether or not to get married. Free to decide if we want to have kids. We are, however, not free to decide whether or not we want to serve in the military, whether we want to spend two of the best years of our lives serving National Service at all.
Putting aside the last point in the previous paragraph, the truth is, are we really free?
Every morning, hundreds of thousands of people turn off their alarm clocks and get ready for work. They squeeze onto packed buses and trains, all with sour looks on their faces. They reach their offices, do the work they are assigned to, whether they liked it or not. They break for lunch, and for one hour or so, food establishments see a huge increase in customers. After which, they go back to their offices, continue doing the work they’ve been assigned while wishing they could be somewhere else. In the evening, they leave the office, get on packed buses and trains again, with slightly less-sour looks now since the day was over. They make their way home in gridlocked traffic, and wait for the day to repeat itself tomorrow.
Why do people do this?
Because they need to pay their housing loans. Their car loans. Maybe they have to take care of their aged parents. Their kids. Ultimately, it is because whatever money they have won’t last them for the rest of their lives. They stay back in office, working late, reaching home after their kids are asleep. They shower, they sleep, and they go back to the office.
So ask yourself. Are you truly free?
^^^ by Locksley @ 11:36 PM.
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Thursday, December 05, 2013
[Sky on fire!]
It looked a lot nicer in reality. Phone's camera couldn't capture it in all its glory.
^^^ by Locksley @ 10:25 PM.
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Wednesday, December 04, 2013
[Never thought I'd be back here again...]
^^^ by Locksley @ 9:30 PM.
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