Everyday, I walk or jog past the Thomson Grove guard house and when I pass by, I wave to the guard on duty. Usually it's one of the 2 Indian guys who're on duty at night.

I concocted this story in my head long ago that they're gossiping about me. This is because, every night someone sends me home. Well for a year I had a steady ride, then after that I still had steady rides but from lots of different cars. Lots of times cabs, and most recently, I drive myself out. So every time I wave, I imagine that they're marveling at how spoilt/fortunate I am. And I imagine that their smiles are amused smiles.

Yup, I like to imagine things. A whole lot.