In the land of Gandhi we seek job,
if you have luck you get the job
the qualifications seem futile…
and the recommendations comes handy.

The rich’s son gets the best…
the poor sheds tears on his bio-data…
each day with a new sun he walks with hope
and comes night he curses at the moon…

He takes shelter in a ministers grove,
turns tool in his school, realm happen
now has a car and a roof to live,
but has a barren heart till…

Now he makes jobs, but sees only the recommendation…
the empathy for the poor is not to be seen…
now one thinks, in the land of Gandhi,
why one seek job…