I want to sneak into some books in the form of words,
running in pages upon pages – volumes after volumes.
They say I’m an animal of my society I speak a language,
I profess a culture and I’m a forte of my psyche –
I’m Balkanized from all sides.
But my psyche has made me a psycho,
I say I can speak many languages,
I can even exchange ideas through gestures Many cultures have culminated into me, I boast.
I wear a tie among the people who put on loincloth – dhoti and lungi and kurta-pyjama when I’m among the Westerners I’m an Anglophile,
yet I cram many outlandish words into English in imitation of some Gaelic, Irish, and other writers whose works have appeared in Granta and TLS-like magazines which have taken the readers to the world of wonder cracking the meaning of outlandish words and phrases –
and they have impressed the readers much.