This is just showing off the doughnuts I made for my babe's 6th birthday..The kids all loved it! The first one is the batch with chocolate sauce and coconut sprinkles, the second one with chocolate sauce and colorful sprinkles. Most of my siblings chipped in some effort -my eldest brother made KFC style chicken fry which became the hero of the night, my sister made savory pakoras for the wining session among other things. You see, the love of food runs in the blood! We ordered the monster high cake(vanilla chocolate flavoured) from Art Cafe which albeit a bit pricey was worth every bit of money it cost! I think they are the best in town.

I feel both awed and dismayed at the dynamics and struggle, the back and forth play for power in the battleground of offices. The contention for power, for praises and promotions often saturates the workplace to an extent that it will casually seep onto you even if you just intend to mind your own business at your own desk.

My friends in the civil service has similar things to say – of how office politics is defamed by people with corrupt practices, sycophants who vie for perks at the cost of others' opportunities, because you see, office politics in itself need not necessarily be so bad and manipulative.

A man is born and bred so he can set his own goal for the journey of his life, irrespective of whether he reaches there, because in the end, it is never about the goal..it is all about the journey. A common man's usual goal is either prosperity or happiness. Yet, Buddhist practitioners may see this as mediocre wherein a man is led to revolve in his own circle of Karma. This confusion has led me to write the piece below. Help enlighten me if you please!

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Life’s unending promises drive many
To the illusions of gold and riches
Or the hues of love and happiness
The assumed purposes above mediocrity
For a man to define himself

So on a lifelong journey sets he
Sweat on his brows
Ideal Dirt on his hand
Often beyond redemption
For dreams that crowned his mind

From my sister’s car on our way to town, I could see my car lined up to be washed at the Auto SPA in Babesa. I felt a tinge of utter remorse for temporarily abandoning it and wondered if it was sad and lonely as I imagined it to be. Then I shushed myself for such level of irrational attachment I had assumed with a non-living being.