What are you crying about boy?
I looked up and saw myself staring at myself. It was a rare moment that occurs often in my life all the
time occasionally. My Mr Hyde was staring at me with dissecting eyes. He was boring into my deep
recesses. I wanted to run away, scream and hide. But there he was staring at me.
‘Nothing’, was all I could stifle out. I knew he was reading my mind as always. He knew I was thinking
about all the times I had lost. I knew he was laughing at me, laughing at my sordid weak self. Before he
could spit another question in my face, I slowly started narrating the same sad tale that I always had to
Self, individual, time all felt out of place when I juxtaposed me and what I wanted to be. They say
dreamers are achievers. But for my case I had never been able to realize any of my dreams. I had failed
where I wanted to succeed. I had succumbed where I wanted to rise, I had fallen where I should have
achieved. It wasn’t that I was dumb or I was not well provided for with opportunities. But yet I had
failed. What was it that had pulled me back? Was it competition, too many expectations with myself,
hope or over confidence which I thought was confidence. Modern man or should I say man- a poor
victim of all these sad predicaments. Who was to blame? He looked at me with a scowl and I knew
This case is about power dynamics of attracting, retaining and compensating a star performer in a services firm. These are shaped by interdependencies between people and exogenous factors like labor market and competition. In the case Peter Thompson’s informal source of power which resides in his star status and his relational power grows big enough to question Stephen, in whom the formal source ...
obviously his answer was ‘you’ or did he mean ‘me’… in both cases I suffered… ‘I suffered’… I blared
I remember how my mother used to tell me whenever I was sad or blue, that look at the evening star. It
is the first one that comes out in th evening. When no other star would dare to show up challenging the
dark, Venus stands tall and opens the road for the little light merchants to light up the dark. I still lift
my head in th evening to take a look at Venus, to draw inspiration, to feed on some hope on an old story
my mother had told me; Nothing happens, nobody comes, nobody goes, it’s awful.
The absurdity of the situation is almost hilarious yet is always drenched in tears. We start off with such
robust positivity and this world , the time, the people we meet, the situations, the circumstances mar
our existence into a besmirched personification of indifference. Nothing shocks me anymore, nothing
scares me, nothing excites me anymore, nothing inspires me. Is this the eventual truth that man has to
learn? Is this the eventual lesson? Is this inevitability?
He smiled as he ran through the pages of my bereft existence. I could feel him trying to soothe my
aching indifference, but it was of no avail. No Venus, no touch, no Helen, no words could soothe that,
which I had unleashed. My urge to know more and more had eventually led me to realize that it was all
so tasteless. It was all so gossamer like. I missed the vibrance. I missed the joy, I missed the trust… I
missed myself. It was a long journey I had undertaken yet for the most part I had remained motionless.
Growing up, reaching out to the world with open arms, embracing love, breaking hearts, getting
broken, eating, sleeping, asking, accepting… all was a game of the past. The sun and the moon, the
night and the day, time and timelessness… all has lost its meaning. ‘Meaning is another controversial
word boy’, my Mr Hyde gently remarked. I knew he was right. It was all merely interpretations. I
sighed, picked my lousy self and got up to plod on. I had not walked a good too many steps when I
Venus, the second planet from the Sun, is the hottest world in the solar system. It is blanketed by a thick atmosphere that heats its surface like the inside of a greenhouse. But with a surface temperature of almost 900 degrees Fahrenheit (480 C), this place is no garden! Other than its atmosphere, Venus is so similar to Earth that it is sometimes called Earth's sister planet. Its diameter and ...
realized I was exactly where I was. Did it ever end? Did it ever stop? Did it ever start?