Transfer among government servants is common,
I too am such a vulnerable office kind;
I never ever felt anything uncommon,
When I got my transfer to a place as though fined…
I traveled carefree like a poor Indian monk,
Less of baggage and more of people’s love within;
One creature, I’ve been ignoring during such punk,
Was the stray dog I’d been feeding for long as kin.
I’d reached my place, where, with all paraphernalia,
Men and women seemed welcoming me as though glad;
My dog seemed crying like a lost child in a Mela,
Just like awaiting the arrival of her dad.
It’s there I found the true reason for creature love.
The food he might have got, sure, from my successor.
Why did he need to run forty miles or above,
To find me, who’s just a nomadic professor…