Tapan's Flutes which i brought from Pune..

What shall i do with your flutes?
Should i give it to those communists
Whose voices have not been heard anywhere?
Or should i make a whistle blower out of it
For the silent Indian trains
which carry the outlaws, the rapist, the theives?
Or should I take it home to Imphal
Where the Green men rule and make us crawl
Under the Unkind Sun?
Or should I give it to Dr. M Sami
As the last gift from your side
For showing you those Mughal styled Biryani
With flies all over it
In the crowded market of Okhla?
Or should i leave it too a bengali sweet shop
to collect it by a Bong who pretends to love art
And who talks of rabindra sangeet and revolution.
Or should I come to Howrah or Coffe House
To play my distorted tune
Of Pather Panchali (song of the little road)
Tell me before its too late
or you are on the way to take it back
I am leaving this capital soon
This city is dirty and shitty
I hate being dirt
And had too much of flirts
With these north Indian girls
Who have round eyes and pointed nose
Home is calling me
Neither I can wait for the another dawn
Nor i can come to Howrah
Nor i will play anything
I am just going Home!!

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