Ash and burn

Wednesday. 9 in the morning. office.

How do automatic ironboxes work? Do they turn themselves off when they hit the tuned heat and switch back on when the heat drops? Can they keep this cycle going, safely, until I get back home in the evening?

I am decently-scared(decent enough to warrant the use of word 'shit-scared', but i am not going to use it), as I take the seat in my office. Not sure if i have turned the ironbox off at home. I have reasoned why I might have done so, all my journey in the morning and through my breakfast. I have rather been a responsible man. My gut says, I pulled the plug. Yet, sometimes, how you are raised keeps you from trusting gut and reasoning. My folks have made me think I goof-up more times than my mother forgets to add salt to saambar. They may have been perfectly well-intentioned. In salt and breeding. But what they failed to foresee was that oneday, I might decide to press my own clothes when I grow up. I am upset imagining the ironbox heating more than, may be today's-high-houseloan-EMI-paying-IT workers' head, eventually burning the whole house down( in each of the cases as it may be. IT guy, I know it's hard)

The good news about it is that the house isn't mine and I may not lose much( I don't make much a month. Therefore all saved was ash. Can fire burn ash?). I get to 'rise from the ashes' and move out of the hellhole, finally. On the flip-side, have you heard of any lady suing her tenant for negligence and winning the damages? In India? My faith in unable judiciary of my country has been unshakeable. Until now.

Am I overshit-scared? Fear misplaced? I guess I could be less paranoid.

I just told my colleague he could enjoy a wrinkle-free shirt all day today. I could use my head and press it. It's hot. Someone pull the plug(or just leave a comment and say my writing's silly)