And Then There Were None ...

My tribute to the best nineteen folks i have worked with till date and the four best spent days of my life here at IIM-A

A cold winter month, a dog-day afternoon

Empty sights galore, silent lies the tune

No mortal awake, the golden sun passes me by

Am I anxious or elated, rather relieved with a sigh !

Standing here today, the 5th of November not forgot

I travel back in time, four days to the dot

And I see – teeming hundreds, thronging the hallowed hall

Three hundred of the bravest, responding to a recruiter’s call

Like Spartans they come, flocking to the Central field

All charged, some steady – a single resume, their naked shield

Closed doors await, a burden of forty minutes to bear

They are for that instant the foci, all that is they care

And the process repeats, but recruiters they all stay the same

The vanquished Spartan his death awaits – he feels it a mockery of the game

When hark, what is this he sees – an offer comes waltzing by

Unexpected, unseen – a windfall from the sky

The jubilation of glory for this one, it pains me to see

I think of the two hundred ninety nine, yet chained – waiting to be free

But then the day wears on, closer the evening draws

I see them all firm and resolute, none yet clutching at the straws

And it strengthens the resolve, like an oak amidst the greens

Of the twenty who lay hidden, working behind the scenes

For tomorrow will be another day, we know it would be great

Unto us the task is set, we carry this burden of fate

So when I wake up, the glaring sun in my eye

One more offer I say to me, I will not give in without a try

Finally this circle of life and death, it draws towards an end

The fourth day sets down, the last mile before the bend

And so it ends for us, victory approacheth nigh

The last Spartan gladly returns, we celebrate Christmas in July

We now know with all delight, that when the sun shall rise

The competition waits on the starting line, while we bag the prize

The heroics of a batch written in gold, adorn the institute shelves

Of 20 silent shrouds – their work done – they say, we did it ourselves

But for us the moments shared, are not too far and few

No person left unplaced, zero the length of the queue

It feels proud, when asked today – how good, the work was done

We started with three hundred, then in the end There Were None …