Management Safari

Poem By Subroto Chatterjee

When ideas make a rumble in the jungle,
Wounded icons take a tumble.
Then strategies work full throttle:
Making merry with old wine in new bottles!

Cases carefully and seamlessly constructed;
Common sense integrated and deconstructed;
Wisdom posted at inquiry’s door:
Can students and teachers ask for more?

Goals that fix a moving target,
Goals that cover a mixed-bag market;
Goals that imbibe learning and placements;
Goals that don’t forgive displacements.

While Fayol managed to discipline-
What Taylor nudged later to begin-
Drucker founded the modern brand;
Management seemed in safe hands.

The Gilbreths and Follet streamlined too;
And Bernard was one of the few-
With Prahalad and Handy to canter
In together with Porter and Kanter.

Hammer and Champy, Peter and Waterman:
Offered balms to corporations and also-rans.
And as practices branched in numerous lands,
The jungle predators bared their fangs.

Corporate battles won by joint ventures;
These are management’s new adventures.
Whether hunting for bulls or courting the bears,
Wisdom and folly come down in pairs.

Pathfnders of old and inventors of new,
Have a job to cut and hew;
To sharpen the brain and soften the heart,
It is not for nothing that management’s an art!

Copyright © SC
21st December 2006
Mumbai.

Comments about Management Safari

Being an old MBA student, I loved and enjoyed those references to all our 'gurus' and 'pundits' of Management! Management is a refined art which remains evergreen! Its many innovative measures the world has seen! 10+ -Raj Nandy


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Other poems of CHATTERJEE

Haiku # 2 ‘raining Passion’

Rains can be risky
What with this pouring passion
Can turn one frisky!

An Answer

[I wrote this poem in response to Robert Frost's 'A Question']

Who decides o’er life and death?
And who will tend to our woes?

Dawn

I wake up with a blushing Dawn;
Apollo’s lover in the morn;
The morning sky is painted red;
As she lies recoiled in bed.

And All That's Nice

[I wrote this poem in response to Robert Frost's 'Fire and Ice']

I was told that the cause for our end
(In an inevitable cosmic amend)

House Of God

Gnarled fingers feeling and
Kneading the clay,
Sieving the sand,
And baking to pray.

'Twas Not A Rose

'Twas not a rose,
Though it had thorns.
Was it a pose?
Was it a con?