Summer is the time for
Burnt offerings made to a Sun
That cannot look at you
Without sucking you dry.
That smile, that burns
In its scorching benevolence:
Truly derisive
In it's universal bonhomie-
Its complete impartial indifference.
You are merely another.
And he likes you, well and good.
It is only your folly
If you dry yourself up in vain
Every Summer.
Bharot
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[image: Bharot]
As was Godot; as is India
As it is all the time
Just as Pakistan and just as China,
And no more does anything rhyme.
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