Ever wonder what the walls in your office would say if they would talk? Indulge me a minute and imagine the conversations those walls may have observed.

I know in our studio, the wall would talk about spontaneous bursts of singing, featuring incorrect lyrics to songs that make sense only to the people singing them. They would comment on the politics of the day and the deep divisions of love and hate for Justin Bieber. They would consider the analysis of good coffee and war movies, favourite cartoons of collective childhoods, and how simple life once was in youth spent in not-so-far-away dorpies.

If these walls could talk, they would reminisce about the side splitting laughter erupting from tales of the best stand-up comics this world has ever had the pleasure of watching, the funniest cat videos, or the top ten best animations of all time. They would argue that a Gatsby from La Fiesta is way better than one from Zebro’s – it’s all in the source you see – and that Samosas from The Samosa Company will always give the food lady’s samosas a run for their money (the flavour on that potato filling though!).

They would talk of those whose maturity is beyond their years, and repeat friendly banter about quality cat food. The walls would talk about music, art, language, food, life, love, joy, time, and creativity.

They have heard praises sung about the perfect noodles, evenly textured and flavoured; and could, no doubt debate the perfect box and the perfect circle, only to submit, as we’ve often done, that there is no such thing as perfect, there’s always room for improvement. They would delve into the important and unimportant, the unique, innovative and the inspiring and some days, though not often, the banal. They would talk with pride of hard work, loyalty, resilience, kindness, commitment. Like us, these walls would talk endlessly.