Coffee had spilled out of one side of his cup in an orderly file, leaving a stain on the white surface of his favorite mug. He stared at this deliberate disharmony. It felt like a rebel streak against the blandness the cup lived and died by. He envied that for a moment. To rebel is to live with a cause, regardless of any phrases you may have heard to the contrary. It’s a passion discovered and pursued, even if you are a few drops of water squeezed out of beans at a very high temperature.” Passive passive”, a colleague had once described him jokingly, referring to his apparent lack of proactiveness, and surprisingly enough, reactiveness too. It’s as if nothing moved him, nothing challenged him, nothing motivated him. He was flotsam in the massive river of corporate progress. A minion among many. Destined to follow, never to be roused. And thus transfixed he spent days and weeks and months at his desk, filing his reports, doing his chores with nary a hint of zest. Now he stared at the coffee and his own inconsequence. Something within him clicked. Inspiration struck him when he least expected it. What magic a brown lining on a white cup won’t do? Twenty minutes of furious work at the keyboard and he was good to go. A quick walk to the server room, some copying of files and a forceful pressing of the enter key later, a sly grin broke out on his face. He walked out of those doors one last time. The next morning the happy lot walked to their sleeping computers only to find their data corrupted, system brought to its knees, the company wiped out and an image of a dancing clown with the message below: A Taste Of Nikhil’s Nihilism!