Don’t Come into My Life Again

Don’t come into my life again
For you’d come only to make me cry
Many a gullible man still live, give them a try.
I’m done; known and lived with the pain
And all that for this life is enough
A gentleman has been made rough.

To reach you once again
Never in my wildest dreams shall I try
My eyes are parched, no water
To shed in my eyes do I find
Neither any strength in my fingers to write a letter
Full of world-weary thoughts is my mind.
So, do me a favour, don’t come into my life again
For you’d come only to make me cry.

Copyright © 2018 RAMU DAS

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Some Sympathy

The pain is more in the head
Than it is in the gum
Yet the pain in the head
Is a cause of the swollen gum.

Sleep evades tonight
I toss and turn, sigh and moan, but only in vain
For though the bed is all right, I remain in pain.
So, I switch on the light.

I call up my girlfriend and tell her I can’t sleep
And listen carefully to the modulation of her voice
And I long to hear her weep as I weep.
Alas, weeps she not but only makes some saintly noise.

I call up my mom and dad and tell them about my pain
They seem more considerate than my girlfriend
And they pray for the pain to have an immediate end
But the pain is mine own, with which some sympathy I gain.

Every now and then when I am lonely
I become ill, to gain some sympathy mainly.

Copyright © 2018 RAMU DAS

A Humble CEO

The Digital Content Team, of which I am a part, of the company (one of the Tata companies) where I have recently joined, decided to break for lunch at 1:30 in the afternoon. We went to the cafeteria which was clean and well lighted, and full of people (employees). Some members of the team bring their lunch from their homes, while the rest of us have our lunch in the cafeteria and help in increasing its revenue, for which the south India cafeteria manager, who, I assume, is also the owner, is ever happy (as in all trade, the more the buyer, the merrier the trader).

While I was in the queue placing my order for the food and getting the plate in my hand, my team members had already found a place to sit and, having done so, had begun eating. They were surrounded by members of some other teams. At a glance round the table I saw an empty chair and was ready to sit on it, but a lady said, in a very serious manner, that someone from her team was going to come and sit on it. I moved from there and began looking for an empty chair around the tables (three or four tables connected so as to form one line), near my team members. One chair to the corner had not found an occupier yet, and I could have gone and sat there, but the problem was that a man, middle-aged, wearing spectacles (that made him look rather studious) and whose trimmed beard and moustache could tell their own stories (some being young and, therefore, black; some aged and, therefore, white), sat in between my team members and the corner seat. Two more people (a woman and a man) on the opposite side of the table seemed to be with him, having launch together. On the opposite side there was a chair but the presence of someone’s helmet on it was an indication that it was already reserved.

My movement did not go unnoticed. The man who was between my team members and the corner chair said, “Come, please, you sit here, and I will move to the corner.” He moved. I sat on the relinquished chair and it became easier for me to chitchat and have food with my team. Very soon, the man, who offered me his seat, and the two people who were having launch with him, rose from their chairs, picked up their plates to be taken near the wash basin, but no sooner did the man take a step ahead than two workers of the cafeteria hurriedly came and took the man’s plate and carried it to the wash basin (though the man insisted he would do it). I wondered who the man was. After he was gone, I asked one of my team members who the person was. I was told that the person’s name was Avijit Mitra, the CEO and the MD of the company! (And, oh, to think, because of me, while he was lunching, he had to get up and take a different chair!).

I have seen many CEOs but never have I seen a CEO as humble as he. If he wanted he could have had food brought to him in his cabin, he could have had spent as much money as he wanted and eat the most expensive and the most exotic food every day, but there he was, one among the others, taking delight in having the same food. As he talks to people (which I have seen him doing), he talks with a great deal of respect, and his voice is always low (clearly audible though) and sweet. He is a product of the Tata culture, and it shows. Though I wasn’t aware of who he was, but my first encounter with him made me believe that humility can surely make you rich (rich in many senses) and worthy of respect, from one and all.

Copyright © 2018 RAMU DAS

Beware, My Friends

I am living in the land of nothingness
To the very bottom I have sunk
Happily have I all the poison drunk
For it came from my sweetheart, my princess.

When loving was convenient how madly she loved me
And such rosy pictures painted that at once made me happy
But, unknown to me, alas, the loving had an expiry date
For now in agony I sigh and curse my damnable fate.

Beware, then, my friends
And be careful of those soft little hands
That once would wipe your tears away
Next in your heart with a dagger make way.

Copyright © 2018 RAMU DAS

Keep Your Voice Down!

“Keep your voice down!” a woman in my neighbourhood shouted. She was telling this to some of her family members – husband, son, daughter, or whoever – in her flat.

Once again she cried: “I said lower your voice, stupid!”

But maybe that did not work, for in the next thirty seconds she exclaimed at the top of her voice: “You, I said lower your voice, don’t you understand it, you!”

This went on for a while.  The woman’s voice resounded in the whole building. It was nighttime, around 11:30. Most people were quite. Another neighbour was playing some mournful Hindi song in his/her phone. But, because of the woman’s shouting the sound from the phone died down. The only thing that could be heard for a full ten minute was the woman’s voice asking someone to keep that someone’s voice down. But not even a faint sound came from that someone. All one could hear was “lower your voice” or “keep your voice down” from the woman.

Copyright © 2018 RAMU DAS

 

 

At The Third Instance

I shall be good to you as long as you are.
And once you do me a wrong,
Forgive you I shall and not a word I swear

Again, as if nothing has happened, we shall be jolly good.
And once more when you do me another wrong,
Sad and angry though I’ll be, yet a second time, forgive you, I would!

At the third instance, when another wrong to me is done, I shall know
I am but a magnet that would attract more instances for being wronged
Away then, far away, I shall go, and never again my face to you show.

Copyright © 2018 RAMU DAS