my blind spot looks like this

i dodge the blast from the air conditioner and blink.
blink.
my cone of vision includes a hulking computer, about a foot from my nose; a black push button phone which has a shrill, stinging, persistent tone when it rings;
the prominent color i see is a corporate, standard, blue; the saw-dust-hay-board-like cubicle separators block all else.
if i twist my neck or for more ergonomic reasons, swivel my chair all around, I spot the first evidence of any human life.

I work for a corporate oganisation (what was i thinking?!).
the concept of creative freedom still lies undiscovered around these parts. the cubicles are positioned carefully in a way that human interaction is minimum. most of my colleagues prefer to type a long message on skype, when a conversation would only take three steps, or may be just a phone call! the others stuff headphones into their ears, retreating further into their own individual islands… thats what this is, a sweatshop of spatulate fingered, socially inadept creatures!

struggling feebly to add a dash of color, sit my green bottle, red mat, my thesaurus, dictionary and four photographs pinned to the tiny dash of a blue soft board (a corporate, standard,
blue of course).
the photographs are a gift from a friend from his trip to italy.
strange, painted faces, green, dark, mysterious alleyways and blurry lines of movement stare back at me. i stay put. ironic.

venetian blinds cover the large windows. i can see through the slits that it has begun to rain. the smell of wet earth dares to seep in through the concrete and glass.
not too many people take notice.

i can feel the mould of indifference creeping into my skin as well, turning it mottled and grey. why am i here exactly? i just floated in here is the only answer i have… i like to think that this part of the doddering trajectory that my professional life has taken will only
lead me somewhere.
what scares me the most is that i am beginning to get numb to the deep freeze impersonality of the work culture here! this is turning into a blind spot!
i bring myself to work, do as well as I can, and when its done i take myself home.

i miss the raw energy and verve of a debate in class, and the twinkle in the eyes of my students when an idea strikes home or a thought makes sense.
I miss the countless questions that leave me feeling dizzy and totally inadequate and ignorant.
i miss looking at young faces, hearing snippets of ridiculous conversations about growing up, the opposite sex or heated discussions about work, design… life!

i need to put my soul into my work. i need to feel my faculties bend and my knees give, i need to feel inadequate, challenged, exhilarated.
my work has to have a strong sense of meaning and purpose, a notion that it contributes to some larger good (way beyond teaching english to an oily, chauvinistic arab).

what remains to be seen is whether i have the courage to do this?
whether i am willing to find out if i am any good or just empty words?

i am going to change this...