“Let the future say of our generation that we sent forth the mighty currents of hope and that we worked together to heal the world.”

I have invariably envisaged myself ensconced in a place that alleviates the suffering of the poor. A life that makes a difference as I assuage the affliction of the impoverished.  I pledged to myself that I will bear the brunt for my least fortunate brothers… Yeah right, dream on!

Three long years, and I am hailed as the lone Batch 20A survivor. Is this a feat to be proud of? In this world of infinite options, I find myself enslaved in this zone that feeds me. I would have wanted to be an enfranchised bird and fly away from this humdrum travail; however, I am deterred by financial constraints. I cannot declare independence and go back home while I wait for “the perfect job”.

Every single day, this job appears less bearable, not because of the hard labor that we have to perpetuate but because of the stringent “policies” that seem to go against the very grain of humanity. Superiors who call themselves “leaders” have the temerity to strengthen their resolve to hurl their stiffling reigns that incite trepidation. In this penitentiary that we call “workplace”, our very right to be human is curtailed. Our wings are furled and our voices muffled as we remain passive observant of injustice done, for fear of our dire survival. Only time will tell when I will muster enough courage to put a halt on this lunacy...

"Each time a man stands up for an idea, or acts to improve the lot of others, or strikes out against injustice, he sends a tiny ripple of hope… those ripples build current which can sweep down the mightiest walls of oppression and injustice"