Species Rare
Anjuli Jain | 17 Sep 2007

This is a sequel to my previous poem 'What is a Chair' published in clog on 26 March 2007. This is a satire on the Yes wo/men and sycophants that surround the people in power and can directly benefit them. To understand this read the previous poem also.

I am the species rare,
I make the chair, appear a chair;
I am a jewel in its crown,
That is why, I, in its vicinity found.
To keep the chair firm in my grip,
Is my sole mission;
To get my unaccomplished tasks accomplished,
I vest in it, my faith, my devotion.
I keep invigilating around the chair, to see,
If everything is fine and fair,
Also to show the chromosomes in me,
Carry the genes of concern and care.
With the chair, I discuss sensitive issues,
Like, how steep is the decline in moral values,
To it I add Chair’s comments and views
And make the headlines of next day’s news.
 Anjuli Jain
Any witless or trivial issue
Like, Is one and one eleven or only two?
I discuss with a sense of moral rectitude
And make it a matter of great magnitude.
In ‘n’ number of ways, do I appreciate?
The same thing, on different days,
With equal dexterity and equal grace
Like, In white, you look so great;
So calm, so quiet,
Unprejudiced, unbiased,
So serene, so divine
So strict, yet so kind.
I look for opportunities to felicitate the chair,
Pervade its fame and fortune in the air,
How extraordinary is the Chair? I openly declare,
Oh! What a tough job is it? By Chair, I swear.
When things go missing and situation out of control,
I suddenly appear in an angel’s role,
For example, the Guest of Honour is about to light the lamp,
Fire goes missing , I appear with a matchstick in one hand.
Though I carry no arms, no ammunition,
I only influence important decisions,
People suspect my moves, my intentions,
I am perceived as a major threat to fellow-persons.
Odd hours, odd jobs,
Against all odds, I slog,
Harsh criticism, severe opposition,
They level against me several allegations;
Like, no work only pretension,
Impression, impression, impression,
Whether this on Chair or that,
Chances of my success are very fat.
Now you tell me, Where am I wrong?
The song that Chair likes, I sing that song,
As high as it wants, I rock it go,
Up and around, to and fro.