Ph. D., Ph.D, My Ph.D Your Ph.D., Your Mine, Oh, This Business Of Ph.D! Poem by Bijay Kant Dubey

Doctor Saheb without the compounder
And the foolish, illiterate Indian enquiring about
If the Doctor Saheb in the house
Which but he is managing to
Get him sent back.

From the guide's Ph.D., came it out
Several children
And now from that of mine,
A few are to crop up.

It is better, friend to copy, cut and paste
From the database websites
And to remix and confuse
Just for the promotion
Under the Career Advancement Scheme
And to embolden the API score.

The thieves, thugs, goons and dacoits too
Lending the idea,
As to cut and paste is the technique of a thief
Which he does so skilfully
Applying the razor-edge blade.

The guide too a mafia man as does he the business
With the Ph.D. degrees,
A few of his
Clerks, students and roamers
Work as brokers and typists for the thesis;
The xerox centre men.

The guide and the student both of them know it
But they sign it mutually
With the pledge
The thesis is original,
nothing is that in it
That has been copied.