Employee Suggestions - The Seeds of Change

A seed of change, sown in the brain
Shoots from the soil of knowledge
A fledgling steers through the rain
To challenge monotony's courage

All these seeds from all directions
Form a wise and fecund stream
To achieve those arduous perfections
Compiled under a suggestion scheme

Firms then flourish with Glory and awards
Those fertile brains honoured with rewards
Mammoth tasks accomplished at minimal cost
Doubt, agony that once was - is now lost.

-       Ankit Singh

The Rickshaw-Puller

By Ankit Singh

Fresh morning dew - dripping from the leaves

Piercing the thin eyelids - dawn's focus beams

Raise the alarm to wake up for the grind

My muscle is my money, to feed the clan behind

A checkup on the strength, a hunt for rust

Few pats on the cushion swept away the dust

For minutes I gazed at its rustic charm

My old eyes felt the first monsoon of a farm

Trembling, I gripped the handlebar with pride

My muscle is my money, the city is my stride

Maiden halt at the mansion that rose to the skies

Like the ones in dreams from open eyes

A little princess emerged chirping like a dove

Dangling locks harnessed with hair-band above

Little did I know of the contents of her gear

My muscle is my money, hunger my prime fear

On the jute cushion she cuddled herself up

Waved at her mother who sipped her tea cup

Fair as an angel as honest as a mirror

Gentle as a feather was her playful leer

She broke the ice to catch me unaware

My muscle is my money, I may have acted queer

Naively she remarked at my ripped pant

I could barely look at her neat scant

She gazed for long at my tattered shirt

My shirt grudged at her wrinkle-free skirt

I pedalled my envy through the morning breeze

My muscle is my money, despair needs to cease

With only pedals to her school to spare

My heart panted with passion none could dare

Eyes in the freckled face glimmered with cheer

The child-like joy in riding the load clear

A halt in the shade, to set up on another

My muscle is my money, I'm just a Rickshaw-Puller

Introspection

If I wish, I can break the rules
To alter the monotony, I need no tools
If I determine, I can leap over the stars
To crush that that's beyond my powers

If I wish I can kill the evil in me
And let not relationships laugh at me
If I determine, I can diverge the storm
To let my soul take its form

But wish is a wish that I can only wish
Determination will not be served in a dish
Wish that my determination shall not falter
Determined I am to live a glorious life after

The Red Snow

(Part-1)

Slowly, I stripped off the curtains aside

The drape that hindered the white moon light 


White was the colour of the lawn that spread

White was the colour of the Alps ahead.

Laid behind me were the folks from my land

Casual, indolent snoring like a band

Little did they care of the air outside

Neither did they notice that uncanny ride.

I followed a bunch of men, through my gaze

While still trying to wipe off the window haze

Wind that night was hideous and chill

Only when I could see beyond the window sill,

Four men rose to take on two

A girl and a boy with nothing they could do

The boy being bashed; the girl did plead

The cold goons ensured the two must bleed

I ran to the stairs as fast as I could

Watchmen dozed under his night hood

The clamour of the quiet that I then saw

Could have made even the bravest heart thaw

 . . . to be continued