Once Upon Her Face

Once upon her face, there was always a smile. For me, for her other customers, for her husband, for her happy little baby named Khushi. She smiled through the crew cuts I insisted on. She smiled again, broader, when I finally took her advice and let my hair grow. She smiled with me as she let me peep into the facials room, where her baby, breastfed and burped, slept soundly and peacefully through the drone of hairdryers. I don't remember ever seeing her not smile. They all smiled, smiled a lot.

And now father and child are dead. A road accident and they are gone. And she is lying in hospital. I feel hollow inside. I am a queen with words but there are no words for her. Tomorrow I shall visit her and say nothing. No matter how much I speak, I shall say nothing. Tomorrow my words are useless.

I wonder if she will ever smile again.

Happy Kumar: something doesn't Click.

So Happy Kumar goes about his day oblivious to the megabuck opportunities out there. (Love the jingle, by the way). What I don't get is, what's the problem? Isn't that what the ideal job is? One where you're perfectly happy? Isn't it about the whole "Do what you love" thing?

Happiness ain't the job abroad, the big promotion, the corner office. A lof of happiness is just about being content. You can have all the trimmings, live the capitalist dream and still be miserable. There's a big difference between happy and complacent and hmmm .. perhaps I analyse these ads way too much. Let's just leave Happy Kumar where he is, content and smiling (a good thing, I will restate) and hope that all the miserable buggers out there go to ClickJobs.com and find something that makes them smile too.