Rami's complaints at the magazine office

The new kids in the block they were the worst. They considered themselves the absolute hotshit as if they knew everything about everything so insufferable. It wasn't like they had invented sex or dating but the way they acted it was as if the gods themselves had graced them with the very special and secret gift of human intimacy and they wanted to show it off as much as possible to everyone who was willing to look or not even that they would just force it upon your eyes really. Really was it impossible to walk not holding hands or wrapping your arms around or even for goddsaake and this was the worst offender of everything why did you have to put your goddamn hands inside other people's backpockets when you have so many of them in your own jeans. Rami was quite mad, really, at the younguns that had suddenly showed up at the magazine one day it felt like and sort of taken over it.

The fact was not many people read magazines anymore but the advertisers didn't know that and even if they did they had no other venues to spend their marketing money so while readership numbers, the real real readership numbers that very very few people actually knew not the readership numbers they publicized and sent to the advertisers, were quite low the budget had ballooned by quite a lot so now they were becoming experimental with their ventures. It wasn't like they had any readers to lose after all, so the fashion magazine had turned into art-literary-theater journal. The fucking stupid but honestly quite surprising fact was that they had started taking submissions from abroad and now their small-time fashion magazine had somehow turned into this really well-produced international literary journal of sorts...the international distributors had showed keen interest in their copies in recent months so they were now doing an international print to. And these new kids, many of whom had grown up abroad in Australia Japan America Canada UK Europe and who knows where else acted they weren't even in Nepal they were just abroad. The way they interacted with each other...Rami sighed. It was true, they were hard workers, talented, quite passionate about the craft and they did put in a lot of energy to get the word out. It was as if the magazine had been given a facelift, like one of those idiotic ads for fair-and-lovely where no one cares for the ugly darkskinned girl but she whitens her face by using the cream and everyone is after her. But at what cost. And it wasn't like he was a closedminded person he too had studied abroad after all but there is always the right place and right time for certain things and the youngsters didn't seem to have any sense of that.

Rami was most surprised...and dare he say shocked...he wouldn't say shocked in front of youngsters but he'd freely admit it among the older crowd...by the girls, and how open...they were with each other. He wasn't against anything of that sort, he had walked in parades, he had friends who were married to women had kids and all of that, so he was one of the first wave of people who were actually supportive of things like that but the girls got really comfortable with each other real fast which was honestly quite shocking. It was as if there was something that was hindering their already lax attitude with the men, whom they were a little careful around, but around other women their own age they seemed to let everything lose. It was wild, not that he was a gawker or a weirdo anything like that but just nuzzling and making out on your fourth day at work right inside the workplace...that was not just weird it'd be considered unacceptable anywhere on Earth even in the most progressive places, that was not considered very professional but here they were. Here. They. Were. What a strange time to be alive.

Rami took a big gulp of tea and went back to editing.