Happy Endings

Three weeks ago, I didn’t know any of you,
except by the attributes given to us by a bingo board,
where one called herself “brown eyes,” while another cited “red shoes,”
and I was the self-proclaimed hater of brussel sprouts (or maybe it was broccoli).
When all was said and done, Costner asked me if I had a unique hobby, and all I could muster up was an “I suppose,” and that was all you heard of me (at least for that day).
Since then, scented marker battles have ensued,
as we shielded the flip chart with our bodies,
as intruders tried to make cherry lines atop our mint colored words.
Matching tops and expressive personalities became a common occurrence,
rather than a rare combination, and “hey me” became a not so secret greeting,
even when we were two feet apart, and not supposed to be speaking.
Han Solo vests, matching socks, and polka dot dresses collided
with magic carpet shirts, a magician’s tuxedo, and a referee’s outfit.
Downtown party bus after dinner at the CN Tower,
I switched desserts multiple times to avoid all the song and dance,
only to find myself translating Hindi songs to unsuspecting victims,
and to a bus driver who endangered lives on a daily basis,
and never said “you’re welcome” even when we all said “thank you.”
We had all the world’s stress in the palm of our hands,
and life was an easy button directly at our fingertips (unless it was in French).
We learned to be BOS’es with boxes stacked up with binders,
full of office supplies that we’ll probably never use again,
except for maybe those multi-colored highlighters, or trademarked water bottles.
We were nicknames gone rampant, we misused, and asked too many questions,
like those pesky neighbors dumping all their stuff behind the garbage bin.
We cared about percentages, profit margins, and competing for excellence,
complete with access cards, and repeat lunches,
though we never did get those sandwiches again;
here’s an apt time to shout out to Scottie Bippen (spelled and said with a B not a P).
I’m headed back to work tomorrow, as I’m sure you’ll all do the same,
but I can’t help feeling that I don’t want this to be my new routine,
because I was already at a branded site that I would love to maintain,
if only you could all come along after this last stop before the real world.

Iss musaafir ke saath chalne ke liye shukhriyaa;
For walking alongside this traveler, I thank you for the company;
afsohs keh hum raasteh mein izhaar naa kar sakeh joh baath zubaan par thi. 
regretful I shall remain about those words that I never shared along the way.

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