Life Without Computer Engineers

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Life Without Mechanical Engineers

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Life Without Electronic Engineers

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Life Without Communications Engineers

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Life Without Civil Engineers Civil Engineers

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Life Without Aeronautical Engineers

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Poem on Engineers

Engineer woh hain
jo aksar phasta hain

Interviews ke sawaal mey
Badi companiyon ke jaal mey

Boss aur client ke bawaal mey


Engineer woh hain
jo pak gaya hain
Meetings ki jhelai mey
Submissions ki gehraai mey
Teamwork ki chataai mey


Engineer woh hain
jo laga rehta hain
Schedule ko failane mey
Targets ko khiskaane mey
Roz naye-naye bahaane banane mey


Engineer woh hain
jo lunch time mey Breakfast karta hain
Dinner time mey Lunch karta hain aur
Commutation ke waqt soya karta hain


Engineer woh hain
jo paagal hain
Chai aur samose ke pyaar mey
Cigarette ke khumaar mey
Birdwatching ke vichaar mey


Engineer woh hain
jo khoya hain
Reminders ke jawaab mey
Na milne waale hisaab mey
Behtar Bhavishya ke khwaab mey


Engineer woh hain
jise intezaar hain
Weekend nights par dhoom machaane ka
Boss ke chutti par jaane ka
Increment ki khabar aane ka


Engineer woh hain
jo sochta hain
Kaash padhaai par dhyaan diya hota
Kaash teacher se panga na liya hota
Kaash ishq na kiya hota....

Kaash....

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A dream of life

When I was young--long, long ago--
I dreamed myself among the flowers;
And fancy drew the picture so,
They seemed like Fairies in their bowers.
The rose was still a rose, you know--
But yet a maid. What could I do?
You surely would not have me go,
When rosy maidens seem to woo?
My heart was gay, and 'mid the throng
I sported for an hour or two;
We danced the flowery paths along,
And did as youthful lovers do.
But sports must cease, and so I dreamed
To part with these, my fairy flowers--
But oh, how very hard it seemed
To say good-by 'mid such sweet bowers!
And one fair Maid of modest air
Gazed on me with her eye of blue;
I saw the tear-drop gathering there--
How could I say to her, Adieu!
I fondly gave my hand and heart,
And we were wed. Bright hour of youth!
How little did I think to part
With my sweet bride, whose name was Truth!
But time passed on, and Truth grew gray,
And chided, though with gentlest art:
I loved her, though I went astray,
And almost broke her faithful heart.
And then I left her, and in tears--
These could not move my hardened breast!
I wandered, and for weary years
I sought for bliss, but found no rest.
I sought--yet ever sought in vain--
To find the peace, the joy of youth:
At last, I turned me back again,
And found them with my faithful Truth.
Sam G. Goodrich

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