Do you know sir Jaiselmer is a great destination?
The name tells, has beer, dunes, fort, foreign women and men?
Trying to find self in our home,
No one knows what to do them?
We stand in groups and make ourselves lonesome,
offer chai and fried stuff in subjection,
mix of sand duned belly dancing and organic farm irrigation,
to dear friend tourism,
and irritation,
water lines and waste bins leaking it must be adding then,
some nice new smell to the musky environment.
Collector sahib, the man from government,
adds this has nothing to do with taxes or local income,
all we can do is put some local policemen,
put a sign saying force that will give assistance,
because we can never trust our local men,
for there are too many of us them,
also are old men sitting on the lap and shade of good old banyan,
in the fort and the mountain,
with age old stone of sand,
turning desert air into breeze soothing arrogance,
like panchayats let them speak alternate governance,
and allow me to continue the phrase gentlemen,
Time it is to me. Space it’s unto you.
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