As the protagonist walks down the winding pathways that lead up to the Management Development Centre, he feels a sense of calm. Having spent the last five years negotiating traffic, that at times is intent on killing you, yet at others pins you down and lets you marinate your lungs in hydrocarbons and other noxious gases, scrambling to “clock in” and making your grand presence felt at your presumptuously important yet claustrophobic office cubicle (In moments of clarity you can hear the cacophony of keyboard clicks generated by souls such…
