Return Of The Big Bang Poem by K.S.Subramanian Subramanian

Return of the Big Bang

In any cityscape the sky remains
pale, only clouds of hues are mobile;
The whimsical mind on its course,
splitting and sifting them to nothing.

Back in the 60s youths rushed out
of campuses flaunting degrees to
build skills on a foothold; They
went to the nearest job counter,
hoping to unlock a treasure chest;
It had the visa for banks, PSUs and
research labs; birth eating its pound
of flesh with merit.

A stampede it was, the leftovers
anxious for another try!

"The ratio of jobs to numbers
was unequal" said the analyst.

Into the 70s with youths cramming
GK for gate tests, some losing
the prize with fumbling gait;
Nay, settled for a consolation
prize and a long conundrum.

"High brow diplomas
(forget diplomatic skills)
are needed" the analyst said.

The door was banged on the face
in the 80s; the prizes few,
the stampede was not worth a fig.
The wind kept sifting the clouds
to newer pastures.

In the 90s the eye was only on
the swaying horizon of the millennium.
Software titillating the ambitious;
All too familiar - the stampede,
leftovers on wayside,
the wind still atop the hill.

"Let us hail the return of the
Big Bang" said the analyst.