Generally

I Generally, the third-classers get well-placed and established Rather than the real and original ones, The deserving ones Walking the footpath edgeways, The footpaths of life, Living in hardships, Earning hand to mouth. To work as clerks and peons difficult, But the third-classers try every sort of Lady Luck To be established, They will come through the peon post And will turn into an officer of some rank. I have seen A throughout third-classer turning into a judge, I have seen one marketing inspector taking bribes But the same as a judge as for the night-classes’ B.L. degree Changing into an honest judge. I have seen a loafer Threatening the fellow sitting next to him And he copied And turned into a junior engineer through the competitive exam. I have seen a Sahitycharya from some Vidyapeeth Asking the qualified M.A.-degree holder As for not taking headmastership of the town area high school And he will be as for his equivalent vernacular B.A. degree. I have seen many specs-laden, olden professors Not telling about their percentage of marks, Whoever they might be now, Just gravity puffs the balloon. I have seen simple students turning into magistrates And then promoted as A.D.Ms., Many collectorate clerks as crooked and screwed proud P.As. to D.Ms, I have seen many clerks Turning into big bankers. I have seen many peons after their H.S., I.A. and B.A. turning into college librarians, Many demonstrators into professors and guides. II I have seen a criminal turning into a professor of English After showing the knife to the invigilator, Yea, the gangman, The rustic rising to be A professor of English, And he will learn English of course After being insulted into the classrooms by good students And by the colleagues and the staff And his subject will turn into naturally But now I want to let it go as he is now a professor And so I should not say about him, the man on chair and in the posting. The chair and the company too teach a man, Culture too refines it, I mean the practice, He too has some sense of prestige to smell or guess from And keeping it in view, he will change into a professor And the bad boy who changes a bit has the prospect of rising. I have seen many simpletons moving out To the north-east as for to be professors easily, They will earn money there And will come back to their native states After offering Puja bonanzas. I have seen many professors Moving out to other university professors’ houses As for asking them To give high marks to their sons and daughters And blessed disciples. The world we live in is a world of Scions and icons, Heirs and followers, Spoons and sycophants in every walk of life, Of brokers and agents, From the footpath men to managers, The insurance company’s motorcycle and car presented to him But running at my white money-bought, hard-earned petrol and diesel And I on foot, a foot soldier sweating so much for all day labour And he a wireless-set-keeping-radar-man flying high into the skies.