Desperado, why don’t you come to your senses
You’ve been out riding fences…for oh, so long
….Freedom, oh, that’s just some people talking
Your prison is walking through this world all alone.

Its creeping onto to 9pm and I’m still here in office, tapping away on my computer. There’s exactly one other person in the office, who’s presence in my consciousness exists only because of the steady tak-takking on his keyboard too.

This is one of my all-time favorite songs and I’m playing it at a volume that it fills my senses and shuts out all other things I don’t want to hear. Something like the way I keep everything in my line of sight tidy and colourful but just beyond my peripheral vision there’ll be papers spilling out and messes piling up.

It may be raining…but there’s a rainbow above you
You better let somebody love you, before its too late.

I don’t know why I like this song….or why it feels so good right now. I’m enjoying this moment, being alone (or something like it)….a sense of being complete and unshakeable. I could work all night if I had to. I could actually leave right now but I’m not in a tearing hurry. Outside the world is crowded, noisy, bright….and intrusive.

Freedom is really just some people talking. My prison is walking through a world where alonness is so very rare.

It seems to me some fine things have been laid on your table
But you only want the one you can’t have.

5 thoughts on “Alone at office”
  1. After 9 pm, the world outside quietens down a little. A train ride home, standing at the door of an empty train, a policeman at the other door reading a newspaper, yellow city lights passing by in a blur, the wind against your face…

    Although my work ends at five, I enjoy coming home late.

    We work in different environments, different work places, but if we exchanged places, I’d find myself seeking solace in the quiet of an empty office too…

  2. Did I tell you, I always look around for a girl with a tattoo of a male dragon on her arm, reading the relationships column of the Mumbai Mirror, walking with dreamy eyes in a subway?

    I know the world around her, but I don’t know her, and maybe I like it this way, blogger friend…

  3. It really does seem to mirror the tale of many a plodder cooped up in their own sweatshop.
    And yet, the song is so much more. Desperado that I am, I see dragons even when I’m not looking. I really don’t want to come to my senses.

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