He used to be the concierge,
But when Pandemic took his job,
He couldn’t find a star hotel
To use his twenty work-ex years.
They told him, “Be a Uber guy”,
But he didn’t have the wherewithal
To buy a car, or travel far,
And so he bought a rickshaw from
A friend who knew a friend of friend.
His twenty years as concierge
Had taught him people value care,
And so he spent a little more
Upgrading its upholstery,
Upgrading lighting, music, horns,
And stitched himself some uniforms
Of finest silk and cotton threads.
If ever you are fortunate,
You’ll match with him on Uber too.
And hear him tell, so bloody well,
The stories of Bhubaneswar new.
He’ll steer you down some boulevards
Of kings and kingdoms, old and gone.
He’ll offer you some lemonade,
And premium cookies, free of charge.
Delighting with his little jokes,
He’ll drain the worries draining you,
And by the time you reach your place,
You’ll want him on your smartphone too.
If you have never paid a tip
To any Uber driver yet,
And even if you’ve never planned,
I bet, he’ll be the first to get.