Note :- If you’re waiting for the sequel to Mooting for the Professionals :- Part I, I’m terribly sorry but you’ll have to wait just a bit longer. I’m still to finish the second instalment to my satisfaction. All my apologies. As a filler, I’ve tried my hand at verse instead of the usual prose. The usual disclaimers apply - nothing that follows is intended to have more than the most tenuous connection to reality, everything is firmly tongue-in-cheek and greatly distorted for humorous/dramatic effect, and most importantly, I do not in fact hate corporate law. I just greatly enjoy making fun of it. ;)

From Noob to Nariman (and still no wiser..)

I’ve got myself a corporate job,

For the power, the money, the fame;

(But how high can you really rise in a firm

That bears someone else’s last name?)

They put me in a tiny cubicle,

They hand me my diligence file;

I will not let it get me down -

If it kills me, Goddammit, I’ll smile.

Some people dream of wealth, and

Some people of world peace;

I just want a corner office,

And a set of Beemer keys.

The sea is calm and sparkly;

The sky’s the colour of wine;

The horizon is unbroken,

One day that view’ll be mine.

I encourage the right gossip;

I quietly quash the bad;

My bonuses are squirreled away,

To fund my bachelor pad.

I am seen with the right people,

I laugh at all their jokes;

I cultivate an accent -

I replace ‘dudes’ with ‘blokes’.

I read my Legally India,

I cheer for L. Bhasin;

I shudder to think of my bonuses, if

They let them white blokes in.

Silk carpet, rosewood sofa,

My secretary is a MILF;

For these, my life’s little luxuries,

I am thankful to the SILF.

Years pass, they make me Partner,

Those Beemer keys are finally mine;

I let my chauffeur have them..

(Only he has the time.)

My Blackberry takes over my vacations; yet,

I accumulate air-miles;

The stunning sea-view to the right of me,

Is obscured by a pile of files.

I’ve gone from Folly Noob to Nariman,

(Kian knows I earn more than I reveal)

So it’s odd; I still feel like a hamster,

Doomed forever to a corporate wheel.

No doubt, my shoes are shiny;

No doubt, my suit’s bespoke;

Turns out I’m still just a gold-shod buffalo,

In a golden corporate yoke.

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(Edited to Add - A friend tells me ‘Beemer’ refers only to the BMW bikes and not the cars. Oh well, one lives and one learns. Auto-enthusiasts kindly excuse.)