When will you ever be satisfied?
Work, work and work
That's all you want us to do
Never mind that it's a Saturday
That we have a life of our own
That we have a family
That we've already burned the midnight oil
With no rewards for our hard labour

When will you ever be satisfied?
We all know the famous saying
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy
Do you want us all to be Jacks?
Are we humans or machines?
What ever happened to work-life balance?
We work for hours and hours
In front of a computer screen
Is this fair to our eyes?

When will you ever be satisfied?
We handle multiple roles
We handle multiple clients
We run a huge risk
In upsetting a few clients
In order to satisfy your favourite client
But will that particular client
Justify its enormous price tag?

When will you ever be satisfied?
We never get our incentives on time
Yet we rarely complain
We patiently put in all the hard yards
Waiting for months, in vain
At the huge risk of burnout
You will never be able to replace us
Yet your lust for control is such
That you will never be satisfied

What do you know, really?
About the midnight oil I burn
About the sacrifices I make
About the long waits I endure
As you find numerous excuses
To delay my salary and incentives
About the pain I endure
In order to share resumes on time
Even as my stomach muscles burn

What do you know, really?
About what goes in my work
About the amount of time I spend
With my eyes glued to the screen
Searching every nook and corner
For the ideal candidate
Even as my eyes protest vociferously
About the calls I make
Hoping to convert every one of them
Into a successful lead
But instead ending up in rejections
Even as the pressure mounts on me
To find at least two good resumes
By the end of a long day
A tedious and totally exhausting day

What do you know, really?
About the various situations
I have to deal with in my life
About the efforts I put in
To ensure that work is not affected
At any cost, whatsoever
About my Asperger Syndrome
And the difficulties it puts me in
Whether personal or professional

The list goes on and on
You may be a Founder
And me just a team member
But as far as my ordeals are concerned
What do you know, really?

This is a very important day
A grand and glorious day
The day on which we became a Republic
Thanks to the guiding light
Of Babasaheb Dr. B.R.Ambedkar
The Architect of the Constitution
And the True Father of the Nation
If it were not for the great leader's efforts
In creating such a precious document
Many of us would have been denied
Our basic rights and freedoms
There would have been no equality
Many of us would have been languishing
In the gloomy confines of Tihar Jail
In fact, many of us
Wouldn't even have had the chance to live!

This is a very important day
A grand and glorious day
Or, is it really?
Today is the day
On which we take the pledge
To follow and protect the Constitution
But do we really follow it?
Is there really equality everywhere?
Is everyone getting their basic rights?
Are we really a free country?
Is our human rights record
Really something to be proud of?

This is a very important day
A grand and glorious day
Or, is it really?
If Dr. Ambedkar were alive today
He would have been speechless
With sheer shock and outrage
At the way in which
Our Constitution is being misused
Whether it be innocents languishing in jail
Or the atrocities inflicted by the trigger-happy police
Or arbitrary bills being passed
To benefit the rich and the powerful
Or people being denied a chance to love
Because they belong to different religions
Or an entire state being trapped and besieged
And cut off from any kind of communication whatsoever
And of course, casteism in a myriad variety of forms
At each and every level, whether overt or subtle
The list goes on and on
With no end in sight

This is a very important day
A grand and glorious day
Or rather, supposed to be
In reality, a very sad day
We are cowards at heart
We wear our patriotism on our sleeves
We scream from the rooftops
India! India! India!
But we never question injustice
The sheer injustice perpetrated on a daily basis
On many of our brethren
Especially the marginalised communities
They are also equally patriotic
But we deny them the chance
To even share the stage with us
Till we, the privileged majority
Acknowledge our complicity
In all the injustice and inequality
And start making amends
In action, not mere words
There is no point in celebrating Republic Day

Music is a wonderful healer
It has soothed many a troubled soul
And cheered up many a depressed soul
There is something in music
That endears itself, to one and all
Something irresistible, so much so
That it feels, frankly divine
Something that distinguishes it
From all other forms of art
There is no greater joy
Than watching a master musician at work
Maestros are one of a kind
Around them, is an aura so powerful
That nothing can stop them
From weaving their magic
Slowly, but surely
And leaving us spellbound
At the sheer symmetry of it all
And we cannot speak about maestros
Without speaking about Harris Jayaraj
His music takes us into a whole new world
A world full of hope
A world full of infinite possibilities
And most importantly
A world where we feel liberated
Whether it be the softness of the instruments
Or the extremely catchy tunes
Or the clever choice of singers
There is no doubt
That his music has cast a spell on us all
Of course, there are haters
Some of whom call him a copycat
However, actions speak louder than words
From Minnale to Kaakha Kaakha
From Ghajini to Unnale Unnale
From Vaaranam Aayiram to Ko
From Nanban to Anegan
From Yennai Arindhaal to Kaappaan
Harris has delivered hits time and again
His records speak for themselves
And what's more
We can love or hate Harris
But we can't deny
That his music affects us all
For better or for worse

Dear Ronald Bilius Weasley
No matter what others say
I will always be your fan
You are such a marvellous character
Not perhaps, a perfect one
But a character with flaws
So real, and so beautiful
That we can totally relate to it

In your first year at Hogwarts
You played a game of chess
In such a magnificent manner
That even the Russians of the Muggle world
Could not have done any better

In your second year at Hogwarts
You faced your greatest fears
With a courage and nerve
That Godric Gryffindor would have been proud of
For the sake of your best mates

In your third year at Hogwarts
You almost ruined a friendship
For the sake of a rat and a broomstick
But you made amends for it
By standing up to a notorious murderer
That too with a broken leg
Again, for the sake of your best mate

In your fourth year at Hogwarts
Again, there was a misunderstanding
That threatened to derail a strong friendship
But you were there for Harry
When it truly mattered
There was also some ugly ****** jealousy
As your teenage hormones took centrestage
But at least you got an inkling
That you and Hermione
Were made for each other

In your fifth year at Hogwarts
There was a lot you had to put up with
The constant bullying of the Slytherins
Especially during Quidditch matches
The temper tantrums of your best friend
And finally, the evil Dolores Jane Umbridge
Initially, due to your nerves and insecurities
Your Quidditch performances went from bad to worse
But then, you finally showed us
The stuff you were made of
Saving goals left, right and centre
And to cap it all
You bravely fought a dozen Death Eaters
Yet again, for the sake of your best friend

Finally, we come to the war
Due to your never-ending insecurities
And anxiety for your family
Worsened by a dreadful locket
That contained a part of Voldemort's soul
You briefly deserted your best mates
But returned when it mattered the most
Even saving Harry's life in the process
And then, as you destroyed that darned locket
You finally conquered your fears
And transitioned successfully to manhood
Finally, during the Battle of Hogwarts
You showed us your sensitive side
A side that we had never seen before
As you displayed your concern for the house-elves
Precipitating your first kiss with Hermione
Later on, you lost your dear brother
But continued to soldier on bravely
Even standing up to Voldemort himself
Hence, dear Ronald Bilius Weasley
No matter what others say
I will always be your fan

Every week, every day
Every hour, every minute
You pile on the pressure
The same way a python
Slowly, but surely
Coils itself around its prey
The hapless rabbit struggles hard
But its efforts are entirely in vain
As the python tightens its grip
And chokes the rabbit into submission
The poor prey can only pray
As the serpent opens its mouth wide
And devours the rabbit whole

Every week, every day
Every hour, every minute
You expect us to close roles
At the speed of light
As it were child's play
As they say, ignorance is bless
While a pandemic is raging
And many people are losing their jobs
And many more, their lives even
All that matters to you is money
Money, that you don't pay us on time
And yet expect results from us
After all, you can't have the cake
And eat it too!

Every week, every day
Every hour, every minute
You take us for granted
You expect the impossible from us
But have you ever realised
The pains we go through
In order to satisfy your unreasonable demands?
Have you ever considered the fact
That we are also human beings?
What would you do
If we decided to abandon you?
It is easy to lose good employees
But a herculean task to replace them
Your firm would be finished for good
You would end up bankrupt
And there would be infinite time left
To reflect on what may have been
Had you been a little more understanding
A little more considerate
A little more human

Forty five dark days
Forty five desolate days
Forty five depressing days
With every passing hour
I go from depressed to hopeful
From hopeful to furious
And back to depressed
The vicious circle goes on and on
With no end in sight

Forty five dark days
Forty five desolate days
Forty five depressing days
As the first lockdown is extended
The sense of despair grows stronger
My temper grows shorter
My insecurities, buried till then
In the dark recesses of my mind
Suddenly rise like a tsunami
And flood my brain and heart
Leaving a massive trail of dead cells in their wake

Forty five dark days
Forty five desolate days
Forty five depressing days
As the second lockdown is extended
I become increasingly on edge
Every little frustration comes to the fore
Whether it be the delayed salaries
Or being cooped up in a small house
With five family members
And thus having to endure the sheer cacophony
Of the Mahabharat and Ramayan
Blaring on the TV every day
Or simply the torrid climate of Chennai

Forty five dark days
Forty five desolate days
Forty five depressing days
How long will this go on?
I have been patient till now
But at some stage, I am bound to snap
And then you will find
That when the going gets tough
The tough get going
However, I get dangerous
So, think carefully, dear Prime Minister
Before you announce another nationwide lockdown
Unless you want to land yourself in quarantine