I would love to be all alone if I get a bed to sleep with a soft pillow under my head and a cushion under my feet. A music soft and relaxing that would gently fill the room. Some aroma candles and incense sticks to give me a therapeutic feel and make the pain and tension disappear and drift like a smoke in the air. With my body relaxed and my mind at rest I would slip into an hour or so of sleep. Then when I get up, I would need a rich cup of hot chocolate or even some coffee would be magical. Watching T.V would be just fine and then ordering some food would be the only work of a relaxing day.
His black blazer was kept on the bed along with a light blue shirt and a multi coloured tie. They all were arranged neatly side by side. Jacob came out of the bath and aimlessly threw his wet towel on a chair.
This chair was the only piece of furniture in his bedroom. His idea of this chair was – a companion. He was never a lucky man when it came to companions. The last time he thought of a companion, it was Lucy – a receptionist at his hotel.
Lucy was the exact opposite of his mom. Smart, shrewd, organized, outspoken and witty. He used these words to describe her, when he spoke to Richard about her.
Richard, was one filthy rich guy, who also happened to be his friend. Richard also liked to be called Rick or Richy instead of Richard. He thought it suited his millionaire personality.
Millionaires are of two kinds, only two, thought Jacob. They are either born or made. No third kind existed between the two.
According to him a lot of things didn’t make any sense. He thought that the maid should go on a leave every Sunday instead of a Monday. He thought that he could only tip at a road side eating joint as the waitress needed the money more than the waiters at his hotel. He thought the valet of all the five star restaurants were thieves. He thought that his gym instructor had some connection with the CEO of Google.
Google had dominated a part of his life. It was Google that helped him with his chatting, face book, YouTube and searching for and later translating most of the profanity in all the languages possible.
Profanity was used habitually at his home. Somehow it didn’t touch him when he was a kid but now it turned out to be his favourite pass time.
Passing time was never an option for him when he was growing up. His father died when he was only eleven. Mom stitched buttons in the denim jackets while he saw each blue jacket with lustful eyes.
He decided to work to have money that could help him give whatever he wanted. Wanted was a simple term for him. It meant – more than he needed. Need was…money, food, a nice pair of shoes instead of torn ones, able to read and write. What he wanted was a job, two meals a day, leather boots, education and the list kept on increasing each year.
Education was his primary goal till he became fifteen. For education he worked day and night. He did all that he could and went everywhere that said “Job, Available.” He had learnt to read and write a little when his father was alive. He knew what ‘job’ meant; although, words like available, vacant didn’t make any sense to him. Sometimes he got the job and sometimes he didn’t.
Slowly and steadily he grew to be a man with some money in his account. As a boy he started as a shoe shiner then sold flowers at a local market after which he took a job at a bakery and then he started delivering newspapers. After that he started distributing magazines to the stalls near the big offices. He was fascinated to see the people young and old all dressed in formals – coats, ties, blazers, suitcase, silver watches. He learnt quickly and progressed much quicker than he had anticipated.
He reached to a place where his anticipation had turned into a reality – from rags to riches, he said. He had a few degrees and knew a lot of people. He said, “Work can make a person but not knowing the right people in the business could break a person”. He occasionally came up with such one liners.
He loved one liners. He knew when to give what to the people. He also knew in what quantity and that’s why people loved him.
But he knew only one kind of love – love for his work. He looked at his adverts with loving admiration. The eyes that were filled with true love and passion – for his work.
What started as work for him, blossomed as an art and now had strengthened as love.
Today was just another day for me. Got up had a nice hot cup of coffee. Read the newspaper and ran to work.
Waited for the metro. Jostled through the crowd took a place and stood in the crowded metro. I passed my time staring at a girl’s pink shoes, a denim handbag peeping at me, colourful bright orange finger ring in a hand, high black heels in front of me.
Reached office…swiped the ID card…sat in my cubicle. Everyone was called for the morning briefing. I return to my space and checked my mails. The regular work continued with some hi’s and hello’s and then the lunch break. With half day gone I waited for the other half of my working day to come to an end. Finally the call for ending the day. Everyone passes by and now the hi’s are changed to chirpy bye’s.
Reached home…made a cup of tea. Watched some T.V. I decide to order something from outside, today. So, I called…placed the order for veg noodles. Bell rang after two hours…check the door. That’s my order. Pay him…close the door.
Dinner done. Laptop on…read and write and read and finally feeling sleepy. So…goodnight for now.
A day to work
A day to be active
A day to do the laundry and stuff
A day to rake the leaves
A day to mow the green grass
A day to relax
A day to go shopping
A day to dress sharp
A day to dress light
A day to gobble unhealthy edibles
A day to consume healthy food
A day to go mad
A day to cheer
A day to cry
A day to remember
A day to forget
A day to pray
A day is everyday
Everyday is this day
This day is to rejoice in the Lord