Sell Not, O, Bombayan Theatre Men, The Snake-Charmers' Music! Poem by Bijay Kant Dubey

Snake-charmer, play you the wooden 'been' instrument
In the forest deep and dark,
Playing the music of your rhyhtm
And sadhna.

You playing and playing and the music so haunting
That the cobras, grey, blackly and whitish
Start hissing around
After hearing the music of the East,
The music of Asia, I mean India.

But it pains me to see that catch you so tactfully
With the bamboo basket to put into
And making it smell a root
So that the anger can lessen a bit

And earn they the Bombaywallahs, the Bombayan film-makers
Falsely imitating the snake-charmer's music
And giving not anything else to them.

Your risk, none can take to, your playing with the kaal,
The doom
As a bite can be so fatal,
But they collecting your money bundles
And you poorer and poorer,
What you had been in the past!