Mumbai through my ‘chinky’ eyes…

This was the article I wrote for Outlook City Limits in April or May, I think. My good friend Ornella asked me for a 750-word piece but I just had to give her a 917-word vocabulary fiasco. Anyway this is the original, un-castrated article. So, enjoy...

The time is 19:26 hrs IST. My day has just begun. As I stand at the bus stop with my earphones plugged in, listening to songs on my MP3 phone, I have but to raise my head to look at the curious eyes staring at me. They are desperate to figure me out – What business do I have here? Why am I even standing here? A passing cyclist yells, “Aye Nepali!” A group of dishevelled teenagers, huddled together, look over their shoulder and suppress a snicker. Finally the bus arrives and like cattle, that are being rescued, everyone shoves and pushes their way into it.

It’s moments like these that strengthen my resolve to get a plastic surgery done the moment I have saved enough money. But then I guess the average Indian-Chinaman would have to face these racial atrocities time and time again. I do not wish to confuse you by the term ‘Average Indian-Chinaman’. Let me simplify it thus – He/She is the third generation of biologically Chinese people who have been born and brought up in India. His/Her parents can speak Chinese, accented Hindi and not-so-fluent-English, whereas he/she can speak broken Chinese, pretty good Hindi and polished English. In short: In India he/she is too Chinese while in China he/she’d be too Indian.

So it comes to my utter dismay when I have people staring at me and concocting ways to fleece me of my hard earned money. Something that a brown skinned person (forgive the term) would get for say Rs. 10, would be sold to me at the price of Rs. 50. Perhaps they expect me to pay in Yuan or Dollars or fear that I might flash my Amex card and they’d be charged some-or-the-other ridiculous tax or processing fee but, as always, I disappoint them by using the humble rupee for all my payments. I hate bargaining and rebuke my mum from doing so as well. However, as I reflect at all the triumphant purchases that my mum has made, I realize that were it not for her skills at slashing the quoted price, we’d have been made paupers a very long time ago.

Speaking specifically in the ‘Mumbai’ context, I’d like to consider myself as a pukka mumbaikar (if certain political parties allow it). I believe in the ‘Clean Mumbai. Green Mumbai’ dream. Well, to be quite honest it’s a dream and will always be one. I’ve discerned that it is practically impossible for Mumbai to be clean. Not that we don’t have enough people cleaning everyday. Not that we do not have enough messages going out in the welfare of society on the print and broadcast media. It’s just that we have more people littering than cleaning and those cleaning are, let’s face it, not really doing a remarkable job! Case in point – My house is on Marve Road, Malad (West); and for a fishing village like Kharodi, that houses more than 200 families, we have four dustbins to bear the brunt of all the dry and wet waste spewed from each house everyday. Naturally, they are way past their threshold so at the very entrance of your residence, you have your own personal Waste Wonderland.

Then we have our transportation to reckon. I’ve forgotten the last time I spoke with a courteous bus conductor. Hmmm… Maybe courtesy was not part of the job profile. Every time I board a bus, I whisper a silent prayer that I have enough change to not be asked to get off the bus or that the conductor be in a good enough mood to return the change without a frown. Maybe that isn’t the BEST way to travel (pun intended). Then the next available suburban mode of transport would be our ubiquitous auto rickshaws. We only wish they were as helpful and reliable. Ever wondered why when you really need one of those yellow and black vehicles, you can’t really get one to take you where you want to go. I’m still waiting for someone to break my record of being rejected, 11 consecutive times, by Rickshaw drivers. And if you do get one, you’d better pray that you do finally reach your desired destination. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve had to walk to office because the rickshaw couldn’t go on the bad roads or the engine was not starting.

Given my Chinese biology, I do find it awkward to eat on the roadside all by myself. On numerous occasions, I’m approached by complete strangers who want to know if I’m from Manipur or Japan. They look in utter astonishment as I relish my vada pav and pani puri and wait with bated breath to see if I’ll pull out a pair of chopsticks from my bag. Also I’m like a beggar magnet. I seem to be able to attract beggars from miles away, but with the middle class Indian upbringing that I have, all they get is disappointment instead of alms. It took one of my friends to verbally disillusion a hopeful with the words, “Yeh China se nahin, India se hai!”

Lastly, I can’t wait for Mumbai to be transformed to Shanghai. That’s about as close as to China as I can hope to be. Then I’d be the one who’d do all the staring and make all the derogatory remarks. I’d possibly even campaign for Chief Minister, as the entire majority would be in my favour. Ah! The joys of aimless dreaming!

Copy test with Ogilvy - A

This is one of the articles I had written as part of my copy test with Ogilvy. No, I didn't take the job due to several reasons; money being the biggest of them. Hope you enjoy reading it...

(Excerpt from the Journal of Shri. Laloo Prasad Yadav. Translated from the original Bihari script.)

May 31, 1974.
I had the weirdest dream last night. I dreamt that father had taken me to meet Pilot Uncle, an old friend of his, in Pondicherry. Pilot Uncle, or Capt. Balasubramanium Venkataraman Muraganathan Swami was a retired Indian Air Force pilot. He had, in his ancestral mansion, several accolades from the time he served in the Air Force. Also as a special honour, to commemorate his long and faithful service, the Government allowed him to keep his decommissioned MiG fighter plane, Khusboo.

Khusboo was a real beauty. Pilot Uncle had taken good care of her. Everything from the paint to the engine was in good condition. Long had it been since Khusboo surfed through the skies, where she truly belonged. She looked sad; sad as that child, punished by her parents and made to stay at home. I wish Rabri were here to see this…

The clock struck 12:00 midnight. Oh no! Rabri! I had forgotten that today was our 1st anniversary! I should have never agreed to join father on this visit! My poor Rabri, all alone on our first wedding anniversary! How could I have misjudged? No, I must get to her as soon as possible… But how?

“Pilot Uncle,” I said, “I have to get back to Patna immediately!” “Calm down, son! What is the matter?” He asked. After I had explained everything, there was a long silence. Pilot Uncle reached into his pockets and pulled out a key. He tossed me the key and I caught it. Our eyes met as he said with a smile, “Go, son! Hurry!”

I raced towards the MiG plane and started the engines… Wait! There was no seatbelt! I couldn’t let this stop me from getting to my beloved… There had to be another way! I prayed to our family goddess to come to my aid. And then it struck me –

My lucky red shoelace! I had forgotten about it! I tied each end to the sides of the seat, secured myself firmly and took off! No distance was too great, no valley too deep and no mountain too tall to keep me away from my beloved. I raced past the clouds with only Rabri on my mind.

I landed the plane effortlessly in our courtyard. Our ever-alert cows and buffaloes began mooing at the ruckus that the plane made. I entered the house and found her asleep. I woke her up gently. She looked at me and smiled. “Oh! It’s you,” she said, as she gingerly pulled her sari over her head. “Come,” I said, “I have something to show you!”

There in the courtyard, instead of the plane, lay a table for two. I took her by the hand and led her to the table. We shared a romantic candle lit dinner underneath our ancestral banyan tree, the cattle melodiously harmonising to our love song. And then I woke up…

I called up Pilot Uncle, the next morning, from the STD booth at the local grocery and describe the entire dream to him. He chuckled, “Laloo Prasad Yadav! You were born for great things, my son! Who knows? Someday you might just become the Chief Minister!”


*The above story includes the following 4 elements required in the copy test – Red lucky shoelace, a decommissioned MiG fighter plane, Laloo Prasad Yadav and a candle lit dinner.

Copy test with Ogilvy - B

This is one of the articles I had written as part of my copy test with Ogilvy. No, I didn't take the job due to several reasons; money being the biggest of them. Hope you enjoy reading it...


*Describe a walk from your house to the grocer around the corner in any 3 styles


1) Arundhati Roy:

“For the last time, Maxim, will you go get the groceries!” yelled my mother.

Grudgingly, I stomp out of the house. Why does she want coriander anyway? I argued with myself. The weather gods were at their worst. The rains charged towards the earth with a vengeance. I pass by the laundry and the Paanwala. It certainly felt silly to go out in this weather for coriander. Couldn’t she just cook without it? Don’t we have a substitute for coriander in the 21st century? My grumbling rivalled the thundering skies.

I never realised how far the grocer was. They really should offer free home delivery! I’d even tip them for getting our groceries in the rain. Dodging auto rickshaws and potholes, I take a left from the dairy. I hope she doesn’t need milk now! What is that tree doing in the middle of the road? What is this city coming to…

SPLASH!

My thoughts are invaded by a resounding spurt of water. The car that caused this apparently believed that it could recreate Jesus’ miracle, of walking over water, by passing over the water-filled pothole at light speed. Sadly the driver only managed Moses’ miracle of parting the sea.

I finally reach the grocer. “Bhaiyya, kotmeer dena, please!”
“Kotmeer nahin hai… ”
“What the hell… ” I swore aloud!


2) 50 Cent (Parental Advisory)

Yo! Yo! Yo! Check it out y’all!
Ma mama, she told me to get coriander
What the –BLEEP– is she thinkin’… it’s no time to meander
The rain it keep messin’ up… Wazza point of dressin’ up?
Goin’ past the laundry and the guy who makes the paan
I wonder why she can’t cook without it, man!

Where the grocer put up? I don’t seem to recall
All the sh*t is so messed up, I shudda given ‘im a call
Damn, these auto rickshaws – Gotta keep ma’ ass safe
Watch out, Dawg! Dun’ let that pothole be ya’ grave
Left from the dairy and now just down the lane
The tree is in middle – what are we – insane?

WHAM! Check the guy playin’ Jesus, man!
To move over water, I think, was his plan…
But instead he did a Moses, as you can see
He drove ova’ the water and parted the sea

So I reach the freakin’ grocer and ask for kotmeer
And he says to me, “Dawg, we ain’t got no kotmeer”
And I say, “-BLEEP-BLEEP-BLEEP-”


3) An illiterate person

OK, so, main kya bol raha tha… Haan… My mother telling to getting… Wo, kotmeer… Coriander! Haan, so she shouting and I going. Rain bad. Big big rain coming! I no want to go for coriander… err… Kisliye she wanting coriander now? Cooking with something else, no? But still I going. I see Istiriwala bhaiyya and paanwala bhaiyya. I no happy.

Baniya man living very far, I not knowing. He not give free home delivery. Very much autos and khaddaas in road, so going slowly. From doodhwala bhaiyya go left… baayein… Haan, left! Big jhaad in road center! Big problem becoming!

Then car putting water on me and I shout! Driver thinking he Jejus or what? Car no go over water! Water… kya bolte hai… Uchcha-ling and going on other peoples.

OK, so I ask Baniya bhaiyya, “Bhaiyya, kotmeer dena!”
And he tell to me “No kotmeer!”
Dhatt tere ki!

In the year 2050...

... Baa, aged 14,576, finally dies. 'Kyunki Saas... ' takes its 87th generation leap.

... After Maxtouch, Orange and Hutch, Vodafone taken over by yet another company. Cloned puppies of the pug still used in their ads.

... Cars cost less than Rs. 1000. Sales dismal as fuel costs Rs. 2,27,403 per litre.

... Mark Burnett officially runs out of ideas for new reality shows.

... Reliance, Tata and Aditya Birla Group capture every possible market. Underwear with the tagline 'isko laga dala to life jhingala' made available.

... Himesh Reshamiya's songs used in the study of moose mating patterns. Himesh asks for royalty. Denied.

... Democracy dies a natural death as people no longer willing to elect officials. Survey reveals that 98.67% of people prefer to die a natural death.

... Mumbai sets a Guinness World Record for 'the City dug up the most times in the past millennia'.

... TV soap producers will finally realise that if a car's brakes fail, they can simply stop accelerating instead of searching for the nearest cliff or tree for an unnecessary accident.

... TV Soaps will also finally find alternatives to plastic surgery as a means of dumping actors they no longer want in their shows!

... Parsis will be considered an endangered species. Vultures will be extinct.

Why Tata should have stuck to Iron and Steel ~OR~ Why Tata should not venture into Broadband Internet

Note to the reader: The reason for this Bi-titled piece will be evident once you read the letter that i has emailed to Tata Communications' Customer Care. FYI - I still don't have any internet connection.

To whomsoever it may concern,

I received a very amusing message from your marketing services a few days ago... It contained information of how i could have my own domain on the internet. It was amusing because i haven't had an active internet connection since April 7, 2008.

After informing you about my problem, with account antiklimax@vsnl.net, on several occasions... I have received no resolution. And just so that you are wondering how i'm able to send you this email - Thankfully we still have cyber cafes.

I called on the 8th of April and your operator assured me that my problem would be resolved within 24 hours. I had learned, from the many times that i had called in the past, that even though we're informed about the 24-hour time frame nothing really happens.

So i called back 72 hours later to inquire about the status of my complaint and the agent i spoke with seemed to think that i was deaf or unable to understand what he was saying. Somehow he answered all my questions with - "Sir, as i have informed you this matter is under investigation and we would not be able to tell you how long it will take." All i could do was hang up because, as always, nothing is ever achieved from talking to your customer care agents.

I called a few days later with the intention of talking with one of your managers to get this resolved. Your agents denied this request, saying that there was no manager available and that they could only get the call connected with a Team Leader. He put the call on hold and the line dropped. I called back... Stated the reason for the call again... Got placed on hold again and the call dropped again. There are only 2 things that i can make of this - 1) Your customer care line is as bad as your broadband connection. 2) Your Agent or Team Leader consciously disconnected my call.


I have been a customer with your company since March last year and i can only say that you are, by far, the most appalling Internet Service Provider i have ever subscribed to. I have to keep my fingers crossed each time i log in because there is no guarantee that i will get instant access. Your customer care is outrageous and your agents are incompetent and lame. You have the audacity to send me a promotions message when i've not had internet connection for nearly a month.

I chose your connection and tariff because i thought it was a good deal and economical, but i have spent more money calling your customer services, performing the same troubleshooters, being placed on hold, taking down complaint numbers for issues that never get resolved or are bound to happen again.

If this is your idea to help me to get used to being without an internet connection... Let me tell you, it's working... And i'd be the biggest fool on earth if i were to ever extend my subscription with you lot again. And if you are thinking - "Oh he's not going to subscribe with us anyways, why bother, we've got his money already!" Think again! I won't hesitate to forward this mail to daily newspapers and tabloids... I'm sure some of them will find this email amusing and fitting enough to be printed for their readers.

I really have no expectations from you and i can't see how you will redeem yourself for your sub-standard service, your incompetence, my wasted time, all my work that was delayed and the money i spent calling your customer services. You have 3 days from today to reinstate my internet connection, failing which, i will make good on my threat. I do not wish to be contact/disturbed on my phone and you'd just prove yourself to be greater fools if you reply to this email... Who knows when i'll get to read it?

I'm sure I'm not asking much when i say - "Give me the service I've paid for".

Frustratedly,

Maxim Wen.

One Night(mare) at the Call Centre.

Special thanks to my cousin Richie for suggesting that I play with Chetan Bhagat's Book's name and use it as the title of my article. You may see this article, in the magazine Yuva, under an annonymous writer's name, but the verbal flamboyance would be proof enough that only a mind like mine would be able to spew something like that. Hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it...

This happened in September last year. I had gone to a concert at the NCPA, Nariman Point. I knew that one of my juniors from college was performing that evening and decided that I would catch up with her after the show. It was a brilliant show, nothing unexpected from a household name like the Stop-Gaps Choral Ensemble, after which I waited outside to catch up with my colleague. Once she came out and we exchanged the usual pleasantries and the conversation went on to the topic of where we were working. She said, “Max, when I came to know that you were working in a call centre, I began crying… Why a call centre of all places?”

What comes to one’s mind when one hear the phrase – “I work in a call centre.” Well, besides the fact that the guy who uttered those words may probably be someone who is good at nothing, you tend to think stuff like ‘party every night’, ‘going home drunk’, ‘easy money’, ‘unscrupulous behaviour’, ‘no value for real hard earned money’ and the list just goes on. My colleague Imran narrates – “My building’s watchman used to stare at me suspiciously when I came home from my gruelling shift at 4:00 am. One day he picked up the courage and asked me – ‘aap har raat party ko jaata hai?’(Do you party every night?). I smiled and replied – yes.”

But behind all the glamour and glitter of this almost always nocturnal employment, lie those sleepless souls who don a headset and speak to people seven seas across. Piece of cake, don’t you think? But as you struggle with your nightmares in your sleep, around the country, thousands of call centre employees gear up to face their nightmares each night.

What could be so cumbersome about just sitting and talking to people? Well that’s the first nightmare; the ever eternal fear that even if it’s close to 23:00 hrs GMT (04:30 hrs IST) you are still bombarded with calls that are either requests or complaints. We can’t bear our own friends and family members ranting on for less than 20 minutes whereas here, no matter how unreasonable or irate your customer is, you cannot get back at them. You fear that the calls will never stop coming. You are continuously staring at the dialler, that has turned red, and you dread the number of calls that are waiting in line for you. It drives you insane.

The next nightmare that you’d possible encounter would be that of the agonizing Team Leader (TL) or reporting manager or the immediate supervisor. You’d say that the grass is always greener on the other side but it’s the same story everywhere. “I was burning with fever one day,” recalls Sharon, “and I called up my TL to tell him that I wouldn’t be able to come to work because I wasn’t well. He listened to what I had to say… Then said – OK you do one thing… You get ready… Come out of your house… Outside your house there’s a bus stop… You catch a bus… Tell the conductor ‘Mindspace’… Get off at Mindspace… Come to office!”

Then there are others that make you lose faith in them by their very actions and examples. I know of a reporting manager who thinks that the call centre runs on his mood swings and then at the end of the shift he would be the one to say, “Guys, we shouldn’t let our mood swings affect our work environment”. Still others think that they are so well versed in management ‘gyaan’ that they use senseless analogies and irrelevant theories to get the team to perform better. “If you go into a restaurant,” explained a TL, “and you order a dish, but that dish is not available… You’d still eat at that restaurant if the service provided to you is good.” But this intelligent TL was never able to explain what that had to do with the products and processes of the company. This certainly counts as one of the greatest nightmares – that of working with a TL whose ignorance is only exceeded by his bloated ego and attitude.

The management makes a large contribution in every call centre employee’s nightmare. There’s this joke told of competition that was held at a bar – The barman squeezed a lemon dry and offered a 1000 bucks to anyone who could squeeze out another drop from that lemon. Many people tired but none succeeded. In the end this frail man comes forward and says that he can win the challenge. He takes the lemon and squeezes it; out come 3 drops more. Everyone is astounded. They asked him whether he was a yogi or a weight lifter. He says, “No… I’m a manager at a call centre!”

Jokes apart; this really is how the agents at the call centre are sucked dry to the very fibre of their being. Can a car mechanic be asked to program software? The answer is an obvious No. In the same way how can someone trained to take a particular type of call, say technical support for mobile phones, be put in a cue for technical support of broadband internet, something that he has no knowledge of at all. It is not only frustrating for the guy taking the call because he doesn’t know what he’s doing but also for the customer who spends 45 minutes talking to someone and still doesn’t get his issue resolved. When this is highlighted to the management, the automated response is – We are aware of the situation and deeply regret any inconvenience caused. The management wishes to thank all its employees for their support and hope to continue receiving your full fledged cooperation.

Or perhaps they feel that for what the employees are being paid, they do not get enough done out of them. Nightmare No. 4 then becomes – Coming in before and staying back after shift at no extra pay. The way call centres work is that they are always trying to perfect their processes and skills. So they come up with innovative (not necessarily effective) ways to get those things done. So now that they have come up with something supposedly useful, the employees have to be trained or informed about it. But who will take the brunt of the calls coming in if the agents are being trained at the same time? Solution: Call them before shift or make them wait after shift. If they complain about anything threaten to mess up their annual appraisal and thus stop their growth in the company (Oh yes! This does happen.).

This article is my attempt at educating all those who think that a job at a call centre is a walk in the park. It’s an excruciating nightmare that one has to practically live each day. It is not just picking up the receiver and chatting. You are doing a million different things on the call and you cannot afford to go wrong anywhere. I’d ideally ended this piece with – Welcome to my worst nightmare. But I thought it’d be too clichéd…

Oh! What the heck… Welcome to my worst nightmare!

A few scraps on Orkut!

Actual transcripts of a conversation (through scraps) that i had with this lame ass punk... It's hilarious! I'm checking my scraps and going through the usual - whazzzzaaasss and the "Hi, how's it goings???" When i come across this -

Harsh: are u asian?

I was like "huh?" Is this guy for real? So i replied -

Maxim: Aren't you?

I thought he'd get the point with that... I don't even know this guy and he goes through my profile and even scraps me the dumbest thing anyone could think of. 48 hours later -

Harsh: im not asian lol just asking, no hard feelings

So i was like -

Maxim: Well, Newsflash! If you are an Indian you are Asian by default!

Guess what i have on my scrapbook three days later (20th March 2008)?

Harsh: no indians are caucaseans
ilike me

What in the name of...??? Is this guy playing stupid or is he truly being himself? OK, now I've been through this guys profile and he's a 19 year old kid... I thought I'd better enlighten him before he gets ridiculed by... well people in general...

Maxim: Errr... Firstly the right spelling for that word is 'Caucasian' and secondly i would advise you to check that word in the dictionary or run it on Google or something before you choose to display your ignorance and have people ridicule you!

And he's like -

Harsh: u chinese shit

At this point i still haven't lost my patience (or have i?) So still smiling, i typed -

Maxim: I'm really sorry! It's hard to discern whether you are angry at me or whether you are teasing me or insulting me without the appropriate punctuation or smiley used in your scrap! I do hope you looked "Caucasian" up before telling someone else that you're one... It would certainly be a huge embarrassment! I mentioned about your ignorance to my friends and they laughed their asses off... Why do you think I've still kept your scraps in my scrapbook? It's hilarious to see someone, reasonably educated, make a fool of himself like that! Narrows down your career options greatly as well!!! LoL :P

Within seconds -

Harsh: oh ffs, plz

I think he's finally found something that i don't understand. I throw in the towel -

Maxim: Never mind!

People like this do exist... I've finally become a believer! I'm surely documenting more of such freaks that i encounter... Well he's still not bright enough to delete his scraps from my scrapbook so feel free to access his account through his scraps if you have nothing better to do... Also readers are requested to light a candle and whisper a little prayer for this person who has lost his mind... It's a terrible loss indeed!

P.S.: I'm such a sarcastic ba$!^#d!

10 tips to celebrate Valentine's Day for Singles

February 14^th creates a spur of festivity and bliss for many couples every year. There’s a buzz of what one will wear and where they’d go and… ahem… what they would do! But is this season of love only restricted to those who have found (or at least think they have found) that significant other? What about those on whom cupid has not smiled as graciously? Do they not deserve to partake in this celebration of Love?

Certainly one wouldn’t want to feel left out at such a joyous occasion. But how can one, not favoured by Aphrodite (Greek Goddess of Love), take part in these festivities? Here are some wacky ideas for what the members of the Lonely Hearts Club could possibly do to celebrate Valentine’s Day –

1. Snuggle up with your favourite bottle of booze… There’s no better companion for the lonely guy or girl than a Johnnie Walker or a Tia Maria.
2. Create an imaginary friend and serenade him/her. Nothing like speaking to yourself under the moonlit sky.
3. Spread out an Ouija Board and summon the spirits of Cleopatra or Casanova or any historic figure that has crossed over to the other side. Take a stroll on the ethereal plains with these immortalised personalities.
4. Take a hike in the woods somewhere. Study the courtship and mating rituals of the Adivasis. It’d be a good idea to participate in their witchcraft and pagan rituals to increase your fertility.
5. Join the Shiv Sainiks for one day and thrash some Valentine’s Day party. You can also choose between the ravaging of a local Archie’s Gallery and the bashing of suspicious couples.
6. Try to establish inter-galactic contact with Extra Terrestrials… Nothing like a budding romance in deep space with your favourite alien.
7. Ambush unsuspecting couples on their date and murder them. Become famous for being the Valentine Serial Killer.
8. Sport a T-shirt says – ‘Single and loving it!’ Your other T-shirt choices could be ‘I’m Single… You’re Scr*wed’, ‘Who needs a Valentine?’ or ‘No thanks, I choose life!’
9. Join one of your friends and his/her boyfriend/girlfriend on their date. Make sure you pretend you are not looking when they’re kissing or talking about mushy stuff.
10. Arrange a ‘Singles Anonymous’ meet and have people share their life stories and how they can turn the whole situation around and emerge stronger in life.

It is important to remember that in most cases you may not be alive to recount your experiences for others. So make sure your actions are filmed for academic as well as entertainment purposes. Lastly, the writer of this article (who is single as well) can neither guarantee the effectiveness of these methods nor vouch that these tips have been tried and tested. These tips are based on the writer’s imagination… I mean… intuition and the results of these have been covered by the government for security reasons. Here’s wishing all you singles out there A Happy Valentine’s Day!

P.S.: I know it's a little off the season, but the only reason i delayed this post was because it was written for my office magazine. Obviously it wasn't used (because the magazine never did launch), but i thought why not post it and make good use of my blog? Hope you liked it! Please inspire me to write more!