I am Jack’s molar teeth. I get pressed harder every day, on a regular basis, because of various people. The feeling a mop has after a rough cleaning, only to be squeezed dry to get rolling again. I feel like the filter that has been just cleaned to separate cream from hot milk. I also feel like the last puff of a cigarette. Everybody wants to smoke it but then it hurts and they curse it for burning their mouths. I haven’t always felt like this though. Consider what I say further my appeal to the ones that matter. When I entered the fascinating world of advertising, I already saw a mental picture coming to life. The cool creative wing, with interesting people and ideas. The fancy clients and the effort involved in making an ad. What made it more appealing was the fact that it looked like extended college. Folks here wore what they wanted, abused each other relentlessly, hung out with seniors, went out for chai-sutta breaks, played Call of Duty and went on working till late in...