Status Syndrome

Status Syndrome spreads in offices and homes the way colds spread in a sleeper coach — quietly, and almost everyone catches it.

It is not an illness, and there is no injection for it. The treatment is older and slower: honest priorities, kept daily, in the presence of people who will tell you the truth.

During the monsoon, one clogged drain teaches the whole lane about the commons. Everyone kept it clean, everyone assumed someone else owned it, everyone waded home together.

Society is a long conversation; the only question is whether you are listening or merely waiting to speak. The idea has done its job if, the next time it happens to you, you smile before you react.