The Golden Pursuit

I need to rake in the moolah, life is short, 

It'll ensure stability- you gently exhort.

Wealth once accumulated, takes time to diminish,

The race is about survival, from start to finish.

I need to rake in the moolah, life is uncertain,

Without money to flaunt, it's a tad less fun.

I need to up the Joneses, have discretionary spends,

With me on the top, alone, is how I know it ends. 

I need to rake in the moolah, life is unlived,

It's an empty canvas, that with money can be filled.

Untethered from work, I can write sonnets at will,

Do charity, create impact, with a note two birds kill.

Money is not the enemy, it is the reasons we covet it for,

Pursue money all you want, don't let it tarnish your golden core.

Different Lives, Different Masters

To sit on a pile of cash, or bond with someone dear, 

Some aspire to be on the top 10 lists, others leaving no legacy fear.

Some are drawn to how they can drive others, others driven by personal growth,

Some want to attract and be beautiful, though they may get burned in the process like a moth.   

Fame, power, wealth are the anchors, that keep many a people afloat,

That love and service could be a lifeline, they don't know- they never sailed that boat.

All their life spent to earn enough, so they can pay a higher bill,

It costs them health and peace of mind, and increases their chance of being ill. 

You become what you aspire for, you become what you behave,

When goals are not steeped in your soul, even after achieving you crave.

When you are driven by care for others, and want to serve and deepen ties,

You are happy and more satisfied, you can overthrow materialist lies.

On the death bed you never regret, how you could have earned even more,

Only that you could have loved and lived well, and left this world better than before.

Pacing Myself

Suffering from diabetes, I have been advised brisk walk,

I prefer a leisurely stroll, where with friends I can talk.

Chats and gossips done, the walk feels less of a task,

Amidst laughter and tomfoolery, I can let go of my mask.

 

Walking collectively, poses a challenge of sorts, 

That the group mirrors my rhythm, what are the odds?

Some chug along fast, others force me to slow down.

I can't split the group in two, or all around me frown.

So I'm forced to walk, at a slightly unnatural pace,

With the athletes amongst us, I literally run to not lose face.

While with others who are, more carefree and laid back,

I have to goad them into action, lest they be left behind the pack.

In any human endeavor, there's a dynamic at play,

To walk beside the slowest person, I'd prefer any day. 

On Being A Survivor

Fired on an email, or en masse over a Zoom call,

Escorted out of the building, and made to feel small.

The reasons given are pragmatic- you did't perform well, 

We bulk-hired in anticipation, but the services didn't sell. 

There is an economic slowdown, AI has come for your jobs,

We need to label you the bottom 10%, never mind if that dignity robs.

Those of you who are spared, must be grateful, heave a sigh of relief,

That you become mistrustful, is beyond comprehension, what's your beef?

You are the last man standing, why be bitter and hurt?

Rejoice in the dry promotion, stop wondering if it's worth!

Why feel responsible and guilty, for the ones who have been laid off,

Don't even think of leaving the organisation, which has your interests sold off.

Anger, depression, guilt and resentment- it's more severe for those who remain,

We don't just have to support those impacted, but also hide and hoard our pain.

Getting Philosophical

Look inwards, acknowledge your past, inside lurks a shadow self,

For all your well-intentioned vows, self-sabotage you couldn't help.

Enough of curating and licking your wounds; they have almost become an identity,

Take one hard look and let go henceforth; don't keep wallowing in self-pity.

Plans collapse, you lose control, and hit the absurd wall of reality,

Your Sisyphean resolve to shoulder the boulder, neither the world cares, nor the city.

Stop repeating the lies, good wins in the end, the universe doesn't owe you nothing,

Revolt if you must, do what needs to be done, let your existence be by itself a thing.

They say there's no built-in meaning to things- you're not trapped, you can finally break free,

If the river of life has no bridge to walk over, you can create one and a Superman be.

Pour yourself into what gives meaning to you; let naysayers dismiss it as a frivolous fantasy,

Decide once and remain committed for life- life wasn't supposed to be all roses and easy.

Jung helps you drop the mask, Camus unmasks the absurd, Neitzche points what to do next,

I may think that poetry is my only salvation, but it's a daily salve for my soul at best.

Which Way To Go?

Lost in the labyrinth, the only way out is through,

The more I bided my time, the more the creepers grew.

They tightened their grip around, I'm feeling claustrophobic,

The feet are in full-scale panic, only the face is strained, but stoic.

The wiggle room is gone, there's nowhere to maneuver,

The shadow looms large, of the approaching Minotaur.

My hand tugs desperately, at the Ariadne's thread,

Should I retrace the path, or move forward and be dead.

For the Minotaur needs to be killed, but am I up to the task,

Should I risk my life and limb? Is being left alone too much to ask?

Why is greatness thrust upon me, have to either kill or be slain?

Either be a hero or die a martyr, can't from this drama I refrain?

You could have vacillated all you liked, before setting foot in the maze,

Now's the time for action- either burn or go in a blaze.

Not Another Techie-led Platform

Aren't you an IITian by background? How come mental health care?

You don't have the relevant degree, is building in this domain fair?

This space is already crowded, with technologists-founders at large,

Please launch a QComm startup instead, don't make of this field a farce.

There, you can exploit all you want, the gig workers and DPs,

Leverage innovative business models, such as commission-based or platform fees.

We deserve to be paid better; it's not just an hour of talking cure,

It's decades of accumulated wisdom, but you'll not get it for sure.

You may have the entrepreneurial bent, or the business skills;  

And the sad reality is, at the end, we all have to pay the bills,

But therapy work is exhausting; all we need is the human touch,

That you build an ethical product, is that asking too much?

My background disqualifies me; I may not have pockets that are deep,

But what I'm building will help, and not harm, is a promise I can keep.