House

There is a house in the forest.

A poor chap taps on the door; a well-dressed man comes and answers.

"It is freezing outside. Can I stay here for a night ?" "No. You are so weak - look as if you have not eat anything for 3 days. Don't die in my house and spoil it. If you want to stay here for a night, go and have a good dinner, make yourself warm, and then I shall consider."

"But, sir, if I could have some food and warmth, I would not have come and begged your mercy. I'm sure I shall die if I spend my night with the snowman around !"

"That's your problem, but I would allow no death here."

The poor man look up the door of this house. There is a piece of metal hanging on it. A few words, written in Bookman Old Style, go like this: Charity House for the Poor.

This is the first time he realizes that the one whom he is speaking to is not the owner of this house - but merely a security guard. He squeezes up all his remaining strength and speaks up, "But this is a place to help - to prevent us from dying of cold and hunger outside."

"So what. I got to keep this place clean. I am in charge of this house and if you die within this four walls, it would become my responsibility."

*******

KM taps on my shoulder and wakes me up from day-dreaming. I am standing outside the operating theatre and talking to an anesthetist.