Friday, July 24, 2015

Plea of a Banker.

I, son of Adam,
 I, the Common Man.

Just as my predecessor,
I love Nature,
I love Life,
I love Color,
I lust for Love,
I am a Common Man.

I wasn’t politically correct,
Neither was I diplomatic,
I was ME.

I was a common man then.

Donkey’s years back,
Serpentine had Hissed,
Eve was lured,
Had bit the forbidden apple.
Then on,
Mankind transformed,
Intelligent, I became.

I, the not so Common Man,
I, now the diplomat.

Of the transformed,
A few became bankers,
To sell dreams,
To inculcate savings,
To provide for the have-nots.


Have-nots progressed,
To be Bountiful,
Alas, the bankers still count,
Count their days,
To be bountiful.

Six days a week,
With no repose,
Nor
Tranquility,
We run,
To take the Republic,
To newer heights.

I, Voice out,
For a weekend off,
Saturdays to sit with family,
Sundays to munch with Son.

My Voice,
Echoes and thunders,
but,
Fades away
Amidst,
the stormy,
and boisterous
customers.


© 2015 Ajay Pai (Reserved)   Image courtesy: AJ's old Archives.
  

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