He gained his consciousness to the ringing of his alarm on his phone and opened his eyes. It took him a few seconds; and then he was sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at the floor until he took a deep sigh and got up to the start of his monotonous day, just like yesterday and the day before and all of those days before them, of which he had forgotten the count. He got ready for his office and left the house.
He walked through the same roads, down to the same metro station and waited with familiar faces for the same train that he took everyday to his office. He stood outside a huge building and entered into a big gate that led him through narrower corridors into a very small cubicle that he called his office. Grandly decorated with an old computer that he worked on, a stack of files and a picture of himself on the desk, from an ancient time when he was happy and could smile. He spent the most of his life there; and probably a little in the cafeteria where the people grouped together and talked about other people; which was almost the same everyday; they appeared like murmurs to him now. Nothing was exciting anymore. The dreams had been eaten alive by his personal needs and expenses, and his smile and excitement, by the monotony of his life and by his office.
At night, he would walk out of the office along with his colleagues, alone; distributing fake smiles to the people around him, just like he would when he came into, in the morning. This is what you have to give in return along with your services for the pay that you get from the company; and the ignorance from your pain to the world in return for their acceptance of you. So he walked back to the station again, on to the same train that would lead him back to his den; nowhere new, nowhere exciting.
As he entered the house, he got ready for bed, had his dinner and found himself sitting on the edge of his bed, looking at the floor. One deep sigh and then he lay down, waiting for sleep to take over him.
The next day he woke up to the same ring, sat up, gathered the courage and got out of his bed to the same day as yesterday. He walked to the station, took a train to office, worked with numbers the whole day, listened to murmurs in the cafeteria and went back to work again. With the same fake smile, he left the office at the end of the day, walked the same roads to the same station; took the same train and walked on to the same destination and found himself sitting on the edge of the bed till that deep sigh, and then lay back to wait for sleep.
The next day, while walking down from the station back home, he met an old acquaintance. As usual, he tried to avoid any contact because he wouldn’t have anything to talk about; nothing has changed in his life since 4 years. He has been the same. But it became unavoidable, so he stopped when his acquaintance started waving at him and calling out his name. His friend told him about the things he had done since they last met, opened an old wound when he talked about his long lost love, who has apparently moved on with her life, progressed, fallen in love again and was getting married. It was a long long time ago, but it still hurt. It hurt more to see that it was only him who hasn’t moved on at all, who was stuck with this life of no change.
As they bid farewell again, not knowing when they’ll meet again, they wished each other the best for their lives. He walked back the rest of the way, alone, with her thoughts, racing all through his mind. It all came back to him, once more. She was right, he couldn’t change; he didn’t have it in him, to change into something better than that. But he loved her with his whole heart, that should account for something.
He was standing outside his apartment when he came out of his reverie. He ramaged through his pocket for his keys and entered into his lair, finished his chores and found himself holding on to the edge of his bed looking at the floor and sighing, still thinking about the news. With the same thought, he lay down and fell asleep; a little later than the usual.
He woke up the next morning, late for work. Cursing himself and the alarm, he left for work. On the way, the sole of his shoes came out. Running out of time, he faltered all the way down to the station, caught an unusual train, with unfamiliar faces and entered his office with a genuine frown instead. All this led to him working overtime at the office, leaving the office alone, and catching the last train back home. He recalled the warning he got from the boss for coming in late and all the rush he had to be in the whole time to make up for it. He had totally forgotten about his shoes. He walked back home, with one shoes in his hand and the other in his foot, snailing down the alley.
When he finally reached outside his apartment and ramaged through his pockets again, he realised he had forgotten the keys to his apartment. He cursed himself again for forgetting it inside and stood there a couple of minutes, thinking what to do. Finally, he went next door asking for help from his neighbours who probably talked to him for the first time. It was an inconvenience that led to breaking the lock with a hammer that the neighbourhood man helped him with, but at last, an hour an a half later, he was inside the apartment.
He finished his chores for the night, a little more in rush than the usual; and finally found himself holding on to the edge of his bed, staring at the floor, with so many thoughts and events of the day going on inside his head. He finally paused and lay back on the bed, without a sigh and waited for the sleep to take over him.
Before he went into the slumber, something struck him out of all the inconveniences he had faced the whole day, and he smiled to himself, ‘ atleast today wasn’t like all the other days!’