Stuck in a rut, the end of road, call it what you may but it seems to be an everyday situation. Maybe not for you or for me but for the daily commuter who leaves for work every morning in a rush. Brushing his teeth in a hurry, gulping down edible down his throat so that he can make it to work in time. Unaware that his wife or mother, who has assisted him run along his morning circus around the house before he joins the monkeys at work, has missed to tell him the happenings of yesterday. The chit-chat that Mrs. Sharma from next door has passed on to her or how Mr. Sethi had bought a new expensive throw in your face car. That she has so much to say and will have to wait till he comes back from work, from the Monkey Business Inc.


He runs around the house in a hurry so that he can be stuck in traffic in time. He takes a quick look  at his exorbitant Rado watch  when halted at a red light, waiting for it to turn green and exclaims in happiness, “Just in time!”. The enthusiasm of this man is such that an Olympic runner could match when he is about to make to a finish line. The gratification to be stuck in traffic at the right moment is quite overwhelming.


The cycle of such joy and mirth for accomplishments to make it to work in time and the misery of failing to to do so is what makes me think that we have lost the real purpose of life. That he is  running down the road in a hurry to reach it before the next person and realizes at the very end that it is a cul-de-sac. It leads no where. He fails to understand that he is buying a car to go to work and is going to work to pay for his car. Such is the irony of his life!


Run, O fool run! You may win the race to the end!