This tiny town of Jaigaon
Is where two countries,
Bhutan and India meet.
Buddha owns the monopoly over the first two
He sells himself in the market place
100 faces masking each other,
Angry, cold, diabolical.
And the monarch presides over the cash counter
And India smiles like a truant boy,
Creeping into you..Seeping into your blood
Like new Found love
Or the first addiction of adolescence.
In a gambling joint,
India plays his cards.
A Kali temple down the road,
A missionary school shining every morning,
Street vendors fluent in foreign policies
Where currencies of a monarchy and a democracy
Are in currency.
Oh! this anarchy on common sense.
Politics, nation, borders, "Mazhab"
The early morning Azaan
Lifts the shrouds of this mountain town
India walks out of the casino
Arrogance of a young gambler
HE has played some of his cards
HE has hid some of them...
Is where two countries,
Bhutan and India meet.
Buddha owns the monopoly over the first two
He sells himself in the market place
100 faces masking each other,
Angry, cold, diabolical.
And the monarch presides over the cash counter
And India smiles like a truant boy,
Creeping into you..Seeping into your blood
Like new Found love
Or the first addiction of adolescence.
In a gambling joint,
India plays his cards.
A Kali temple down the road,
A missionary school shining every morning,
Street vendors fluent in foreign policies
Where currencies of a monarchy and a democracy
Are in currency.
Oh! this anarchy on common sense.
Politics, nation, borders, "Mazhab"
The early morning Azaan
Lifts the shrouds of this mountain town
India walks out of the casino
Arrogance of a young gambler
HE has played some of his cards
HE has hid some of them...
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