As a little child, I had an obsession for new currency notes. The denomination never bothered me. All I cared for was that they be fresh and new, straight out of the currency printers. I never had the heart to use them, so I kept them locked away. Sometimes, my dad would come home with a few new notes and hand them over to me. I would religiously put them along with the tiny stack of new notes in my locker. Years went by, I grew older, met new people, made new friends, fell in love, got married, had a kid of my own, but my obsession stayed. A few more years went by, I got separated. I was heart broken, alone, and remained locked in my apartment. By then, I had forgotten to be happy, I had forgotten most of who I was. One day, as I went through the items in my locker, I found that little stack of notes that remained wasted—just like me. And, I realised these notes were meant to be spent on things that make us happy, without which they lost their purpose. Just like my life that is meant to be spent with and on people who make me happy. No?