The Muffin's......

The day began at exactly 7:01 AM, when I woke up to shut the first alarm. Obviously, I went back to sleep, my last thought being that the alarm would ring again at exactly 7:14 AM. (My alarm is set to ring every 13 minutes). Needless to say, I was up again at 7:14, only to tell myself that I'll actually be waking up at 7:27. Now I know it isn't exactly quantum physics, but I've always been secretly proud of myself for being able to calculate so quickly even in the state of deepest sleep. The small things in life really do make me happy. Well anyway, after adding 13 five times over, I finally woke up at 8:06. I'd be marked 'late' in office if I reached after 8:40. And I knew that if I had to reach office at 8:40, then I just had to leave home at 8:40. No, that isn't a typo. The clock in office is 5 minutes slow, my watch is 5 minutes fast, and office is 10 minutes away. So there.

Now, I don't have breakfast before leaving, I shave only on Mondays, and in an extremely rare show of responsibility, I had ironed my shirt the previous night, by mistake. (I was thinking about, ahem, someone, and absent-mindedly ended up ironing my shirt). Thank God for small miracles, since the time saved on ironing my shirt meant that I was able to get ready in time. I was feeling quite happy with myself, right until I reached the door to put on my shoes. For a moment I thought that I had brought home the wrong pair the previous day. My shoes were black, but these were brown! It took me a full second to realize that that was impossible, since I don't take off my shoes in office. I spared a moment to admire the perfect layer of dried mud on my shoes, before I began cleaning them. It took me 90 precious seconds to clean them up. 90 out of the 600 that it took me to reach office. That's 15% of the total time required. Which meant that I had to ride 15% faster if I had to make it on time. Of course, even in that haste, I still had enough time to yet again feel proud of myself for the neat calculation. But that was for only about 3 seconds because, as I mounted my mode of transport, I thought of what my only friend in the world, my trusty motorcycle, would have to suffer, just because I was irresponsible. The traffic, the bumpy-at-some-places and slippery-at-others route to my office, and most of all, my weight. All of it at 60 kph. Damn. But then, what are friends for? I cranked it up a notch on the road, the wind making the seven-and-a-half hair on my head fly like nobody's business. It was only on the last stretch of the route to office that I realized that if I had to choose between being 2 minutes late to office, and dying a gruesome death on the road, I would have actually chosen the former.

I hurried up to my office, and as I beeped my access card and looked at the digital clock at reception, I heaved a sigh of relief. 8:40. Alls well that ends well. Then reality began to sink in. It wasn't the end, but only the beginning of a day in office. As I walked to my seat, I spied a quick glance at the reason that I was able to make it to office on time. That precious split-second would be enough to last me another 24 hours. Or so I told myself.

As I settled into my seat, I thought about what I had to do the remainder of the day. Now to be honest, I don't really think I am good at my job. But then that is exactly what makes it a challenge. It has something to do with mortgage loans, which is a far cry from my days as an engineering student. But then, if I wasn't inventing an alternative to the internal combustion engine, then I wasn't much use as a mechanical engineer anyway. (Incidentally, I had come up with a conceptual alternative to the IC engine. More on that some other day.) I do find quite amusing, the idea of a mechanical engineering graduate, working in the mortgage banking sector, intending to be a filmmaker some day. And after I think of this, I spend a few quiet moments feeling sorry for my super-parents, who unfortunately have had to suffer me and my whims & fancies. Now that's what I call unfair.

The rest of the day passed in a haze of ginger-flavoured tea, title commitments, appraisals, credit reports and some other mortgage-related stuff. As I left office, I realized that I had forgotten to have breakfast, and since I don't have lunch anyway, it meant that all I'd had all day was, well, tea and water. (Yes, I'm one of those who takes the term 'chai-pani' a bit too seriously...)

While riding back, I thought of the packet of Knorr soup, the eggs, and the Capsico Red Pepper Sauce at home. Yum. I spent a lazy evening, thinking and watching a bit of TV, until midnight, when I decided that it was time for me to don my chef's hat. And right enough, eating the tasty soup that I whipped up, and watching the France-Italy do-or-die Euro 2008 match that night was a nice experience. Well, France losing did prove to be a bit of a spoiler, but what the hell. After the World Cup final loss, I don't think a French defeat can hurt me that much anymore. As I finally switched off the TV, I suddenly felt like a bike ride. There was a slight drizzle that night. The idea of a bike ride, in the rain, with music in my ears appeals to me like very few other things do.

As I set off on my bike, I started thinking of all the things that I love to do, and all the people I love. The chill in the night and the warmth in my heart combined to bring me to state of much-needed equilibrium, if only for a few minutes. 25 immensely enjoyable minutes later, I was back home, finally in the mood to end my day. It was 2:30 AM. 4 hours and 31 minutes for the alarm to ring for the first time, again. I settled into bed and said a silent prayer for the people I love, and the people I don't know.

So, I have just described one of the most pointless days in the history of mankind. Life's a piece of delicious black forest pastry, eh?