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Three years of hard work
Three years of patience
Three years of dedication
Where are the rewards?
You talk so much about speed
You talk so much about quality
You talk so much about numbers
Where were you
When the salary was delayed
Every alternate month?
Where were you
When the incentives were delayed
By more than a year?

Three years of hard work
Three years of patience
Three years of dedication
There has been so much
I have put up with
But I do expect something in return
Such as timely payment of salary
Timely payment of incentives
And you have failed to deliver
In all of these aspects
Each of which, is so critical
For a healthy relationship
Between employer and employee
But, are you a good employer?
Looking at the evidence so far
I guess the answer is no

Three years of hard work
Three years of patience
Three years of dedication
The wait has been long enough
I have been extremely patient
But at some stage
My patience is bound to snap
And then, you will hopefully understand
That it may be easy
To lose a good employee
But much more difficult
To find a replacement
And, looking at the speed
At which you pay the salary or incentives
The search will go on and on
Until your wretched company shuts shop
Which is something
That we are all eagerly looking forward to!
Poem dedicated to my boss; known for his legendary salary and incentive delays!!
Ashwin Kumar Oct 2019
Are you a human being?
Or are you an agent of Satan?
Do you value human life?
Or do you consider it disposable?
Do you understand love?
Do you understand kindness?
Do you understand empathy?
If not, are you fit to run a company?
Are you fit to be a boss?
Are you fit to be an HR?
Are you fit to work at all?

You have been blinded
By your fanatical zeal for results
By your overpowering greed for money
By your insatiable lust for power
For you, employees are robots
Tailor-made for your animalistic needs
Which cannot be satisfied
By any sane human being
For the sake of your whims and fancies
Which change at the speed of light
Several innocent lives are being ruined
Today, it is the employees who are doomed
Tomorrow, it could be your husband
The day after, it may even be your daughter
And this vicious cycle will go on and on
With no end in sight
Therefore, for the sake of humanity
It is only just
That you are banished from Earth
Down to the all-consuming darkness of Hell
Where you will rot, for eternity
And the world shall be happier for it
The title is fairly self-explanatory!
Ashwin Kumar Sep 2019
Month by month
Week by week
Day by day
Hour by hour
Minute by minute
Second by second
The pressure builds
The stranglehold tightens
Like the monstrous coils
Of a giant anaconda
That is savagely determined
To squeeze its hapless prey
And ruthlessly quell every ounce of resistance
Until the poor rabbit realises
That it's all over bar the shouting
But I am not a rabbit
I am a mongoose
The mere sight of that ugly serpent
Fills me, not with fear
But instead, with rage
A rage so powerful, and so enduring
That I long to rip the snake
Into a thousand slimy pieces
With my shiny claws
As sharp as daggers
Until and unless Justice is served
We employees are accorded
The respect and dignity we deserve
Our dues are paid on time
And you, the employer
Finally show some transparency and accountability
And empower us with that freedom
Which you keep boasting about
But which we all know, is just a sham
Just like the training sessions you promised
The dedicated office setup
The addition of more employees
And of course, most of the incentives
The title is self-explanatory!!
Ashwin Kumar Sep 2019
On a dark, dreary day
Kissed by the Rain Devils
Who launch a monstrous attack
In the form of buckets
Of water so cold
That it sends shivers down your spine
As you keep a brave face
Confronted with a heap of work
As tall as Mount Everest
With every passing minute
Despair creeps in
And penetrates your system
Infecting every nerve and bone
Every artery and vein
Until an epidemic breaks out
As you are about to pass out
An angel stirs inside you
It seems to be saying something
That sounds a lot like gibberish
As you regain some of your senses
You realize that the angel is singing
And, all of a sudden
Your head is filled with music
Music that is so symmetrical
That it is the very antithesis of noise
With every beat
Your foot begins to tap
Your body begins to sway to and fro
A fresh ray of light
Begins to dawn upon you
As it fills your mind and body
Your heart and soul
You begin to realise
That the tide can be turned
However, just as your resurgence is growing
It is brutally thrown off the rails
By a large and ugly boulder
In the form of a Skype message
Delivered by your tormentor-in-chief
The boss, ably supported by his cronies
The clients, reasonably unreasonable, as always
However, though you may have lost the battle
You can still win the war
Because, the flame of Hope, once rekindled
Can never be extinguished
Thanks to music, you can dare to dream
Such is the magic of Harris Jayaraj
My poem tribute to Harris Jayaraj, master musician of South India; and how listening to his music helps me deal with stress - especially at work.
Ashwin Kumar Jun 2019
As every day begins
My heart beats with anticipation
With every call I make
There is a spring in my step
However, all good things come to an end
As the day wears on
The white clouds fade away
And are replaced
By monstrous, jet black clouds
With every call I make
My shoulders droop
My eyes lose their lustre
My hands begin to shake
My voice begins to falter
As the rain of despair begins
My mind loses its focus
I lose all sense of direction
The pile of work on my desk
Grows taller and taller
Until it outgrows Mount Everest
Just when I begin to think
That things can't get any worse
My boss cranks up the pressure
To such a level
That my heart beats faster and faster
I begin to splutter and choke
My mouth begins to foam
My face starts turning blue
With a rapidly shaking hand
I stagger towards my water bottle
Tripping and almost falling on the way
Eventually, with a supreme effort
I manage to prise the bottle cap loose
As I take a gulp of water
I spill a few drops on the floor
Very slowly and steadily
My breathing begins to return to normal
But not before my heart is filled
With a deep desire
To hear the three magic words
"You are fired"
A poem on why Recruitment comes with health (mainly mental health) hazards.
Mark Lecuona Oct 2015
Don’t ask me to wish you luck with all your money
You spent your time pretending but who’s kidding who
Now you walk away into the sunset that you finally noticed
Justified by the praise of people who want to be just like you

What echoes in my mind is rejection of the message
There are shadows upon my future as if it even exists
The weather is not a summer breeze but a still day
There is no reassurance for a man who resists

But what did they learn from your gift of callous focus?
Ruining people’s lives was just something you had to do
It didn’t matter because the enterprise was your mistress
You tried to hide it but she was all that was inside you

I thought it was creating a need where there was none
Or impressing someone who wished they had an office
But the ink that couldn’t be recycled recorded a past I hate
I wonder if the man who threw it away has clinched fists

Who would relish in destroying a working man’s pride
Where are you when he has to tell his family he’s lost
How hard can life be when they laugh at all your jokes
Except the ones who know your warmth will turn to frost

A vacation without rain isn’t too much to ask is it?
But how do rapids form waiting for someone like me
I’m willing to stand under the falling tears of heaven
I won’t ask nature to be something it wasn’t  meant to be

You have to learn to say thank you but not really mean it
Every pleasantry has a price like every dollar paid is a loss
His wife waits for him to come home knowing his mind won’t
But the old wine is the dividend from him being the boss

I wanted to be everything you have ever dreamed about
But you didn’t know you had to live with another man’s ambition
I wonder if we could move to a small town and leave it all behind
I just want you to believe in me and not someone else’s vision

— The End —