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Right or Wrong: Enron

Knock, knock.
"Yes, come in."
He enters and stands still.
The silence is eerie, and
trembles in anticipation of a clash.

"Hum, Yes?"

"Sir, err, you had called me."

"Me?" Tring, tring.
The steno enters,
with a notepad in one hand,
and a pencil dangling in the other.


'John, what's the matter?
This fellow; why is he here?'

'Sir, it concerns with the faulty audit.'

'Oh, yes.' Turning to our man,
'Now look man,
you messed up the whole show;
why did you manipulate the numbers?'

"Sir, I just unscrambled the errors."

'That precisely is the point, you fool,
you don't have to use your brains;
our manipulation is for your good,
and your corrections are harmful to all.'

"you better leave; John, see him off."

The fellow, heavy-hearted and
stamp-footed, leaves the office.
And with it the 'culture' in corporate
show-case reveals one more crack.


The red, yellow, and green
postpone accidents till
they blink in harmony;
the ruthless signal symphony.

The violet, blue, and purple
intermingle their fragrance,
as they walk hand in hand
in joyous company.

Shades of emotions manifest
as rainbow of feelings tender;
tears acting as a prism for
dispersing colorful laughter.


The Pink Blush

Did I notice a blush on your cheeks,
a pink glow of the rising sun,
the imminent dawn of new beginning?
Who was the guide, or the friend,
who was the lover that trained
the emotions and feelings
to retrace this vibrant path;
representing expression of inner beauty,
in its most exquisite form?

C S Shah

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