If I were that Waiter...
Brother's Bday Bash, Lucknow: It was one of those not so usual birthday bashes. My cousin brother, the only other HR guy in the family (yes we are a rare breed) was celebrating-ahem, let’s say one of his birthdays. It was one of those rare occasions when all the cousins and second cousins get to be together, divided by the boundaries called "jobs". So all of us were having a gala time- me of course with my infamous PJs, in full flow. It was when the cake was being cut, when my eyes fell upon that waiter- dressed in all black attire, waiting quietly being one of the counters. At first I did not notice much about him, but it was a certain look of disappointment, of pathos, which later caught my attention. He was a man in his early thirties (maybe a bit more, I am never good with numbers), a crooked nose, and black beetle eyes. But that face- that impassive, unrelenting-what's the best word for it- tragic face made me wonder. So this guy was serving everyone