The Office And The Dream

The sight repulsed me. The cabins, which had the word 'Mr. Dangerous' written in every nameplate, the peon carrying cups of green tea and hurriedly providing it to employees screaming of 'headaches' on a Monday morning, stacks of papers strewn across each table reading 'Useless Money Documents' and identical cubicles in every floor, every building of this office, with each cubicle claiming 'Overworked yet underpaid'. A garbage pile of rubbish was piled over one another in the middle of the office, resembling a mountain made of trash.

Yes, I was late. As usual.

I sat in my cubicle, the barest of them all. I stared at Akshaya's full body mirror stuck to the board and saw something similar to myself stare back at me. That thing had two layers of makeup, sleep-deprived eyes, hunched shoulders and hands covered in blood. I tore my eyes away from the creature when Malini screamed at me for falling behind on the deadline, asking me to submit the report by today.

Yes, I couldn't care less. As usual.

I started typing at double my usual speed, the thorns in my hand prickling me harshly. The blood continued to pour out, as I worried it would ruin my white pants.

White, the dirtiest colour of all.

The rainbow-coloured the canvas, each colour adding meaning to the white canvas. I, the canvas, tried to soak in the beauty of the colours. My Maths notebook lay open. Forgotten. Bland in the beauty of the rainbow. Until my mother reminded me to study for the test due tomorrow. Sighing, I tore my eyes of beauty and stared at the whiteness of my textbook.

I splashed water in my pants, trying to rub off the redness. The stain remained, and I decided to leave it as it is out of sheer irritation. Nobody notices it anyway. Making my way to the pantry for some black coffee, I heard some gossip about the management planning to fire someone. But as I drew closer, the voice stopped and scurried away.

I was on Day 5, the last day of placements. Every company rejected me. Was it because I loved colours? Was it because I published a book of my paintings? Sighing, I removed every word associated with 'paint' from my resume, deciding to let them see a new 'me'. The moment when the blood and thorns decided to be my companions for life. I impressed by the man wearing the white shirt. I got the job.

I reached the Office. I killed the Dream.