Cobra gypsies of Rajastan

Where the skies are pink
And purple
Where the bush is sparse and dry
There live a handsome people
Close to nature
We may sigh
To see them under tractors
With their hound
And children too
With their pretty clothes
And jewellery
Every shade of blue
Of red of green a vibrancy
A melodious refrain
These are simple people
With their gait and dance of gain

They love to dance, a frenzy
Such excitement they create
Each a unique splendour
The bodies do vibrate
Capturers of cobra’s
Who uniquely feel compelled
To share their frightening dspostion
Toxicity stilled welled
Up within their being
Withdrawn and shown to be
Utterly partbof gypsy life
And just being free

The kalybeliyida people
Are much closer to the earth
For them hindi is serious
They worship with so much worth
And they so become their master
Able to control
Able to rid the villages
And nullify their role..