The Division Of Labor Poem by Rajaram Ramachandran

If everyone sits in a palanquin,
Wonder, who'll carry it?
If every one sleeps in a train,
To move, who'll drive it?

The Bees have their own
Workers, drone and queen.
The Ants too have a colony
Likewise live as one family.

This division of labor
Does exist every where.
All the work they share
With every mutual care.

A worm too under the soil
Has to dig deep in its toil
To make its search fast,
For its needy breakfast.

Who should do what?
The nature does dictate
To suit the individual
He be a boss or a menial.

Material nature consists
Of three modes, goodness,
Passion and Ignorance,
For a soul conditioned.

Out of the food one eats,
One of these modes shapes
One’s nature to be a worker,
Or a sage, or a powerful ruler.

Each one has to play his part
For the social upkeep in tact,
To promote a nation's welfare,
Or to keep away from warfare.

To keep a vehicle running,
Wheels, break and steering,
Are they not functioning,
As one unit, while moving?