A Tug on the Sleeve

A Tug on the Sleeve

Felt I a tug on my sleeve

I turned my head to see

A tiny palm outstretched

Alms it wanted to receive.

A little girl I saw

She was no more than eight

With a little kid on her other hand

Adding another quarter to her weight.

The tug that had been on my sleeve

Struck deeper to prick my heart

Gave out the coins in my pocket

Contented I had played my part.

But the truth I knew to myself

Two loaves of bread it would buy

And then to get the next meal

The outstretched palm wouldn't shy.

My station arrived (and was I thankful)

I got down and started walking fast

Not sure if I wanted to reach someplace quickly

Or if I just wanted to leave the place I was last.

Are we any richer?

Are we any richer?

Met me a poor man on the street. He said,

"Sire, a rich suit you wear, good food you eat

Lucky you are indeed, to have your pockets jingling.

Woe is me, I have to live on the street."

"Nay, my good man" said I to him

"Those riches, but for two days I shall keep.

And though under the stars you lie

At least you get a good night's sleep."

One year at IIM Lucknow

One year at IIM Lucknow

dedicated to all the PGP1s...

The days were long 

Yet so short seems the year 

The first day memory so fresh 

Yet the last day is here. 

It's time to sit back  

Let out a small sigh 

And to one super fantastic year 

It's time to bid goodbye.

'Pen'sive

'Pen'sive

"Mightier than the sword he is"

They said this about me

The praise so lavishly showered

My purpose would fill me with glee.

Yet, here I remain inside the folded book

As lecture after lecture I hear

No notes taken, no wisdom passed

The page remains blank as ever.

To the dust, they now crumble

The high-handed dreams that I saw

As the only thing I ever seem to do

Are the senseless doodles I draw.

But once in a while it happens (as now)

A ray of hope emerges

Some words I write, some words I rhyme

And a sense of happiness surges.

Independent? Really?

Just a thought...

I have often wondered about the concept of 'independence' at the level of an individual. What does a person really mean when he or she claims to be 'independent'? Not dependent on others right?

But here is where the catch is. By definition, 'independence' typically necessitates at the very least an acknowledgement of the presence of others.

To make myself more clear - imagine a world where only you exist. You do all your work, survive, exist. Would you ever say you were 'independent'?

The Missing Key

The Missing Key

I keep coming back to this place

A bolted door I see

I slow down and slacken my pace

Can someone give me the key?

I know not what would lie

As I walk to the other side

The path now blocked by the door.

But one thing I do know

Forward I must go

And find out what the place has in store.

I keep coming back to this place

A bolted door I see

How long the truth can I evade

That the key does lie with me.